A Radiant Renaissance

[Damnit_Delmar 1152]

A Radiant Renaissance

13th of the First Seed, Year 178 SA

 

Dear Denizens of Aevos

 

As many of you have come to know, we of Murkwater are a folk who value coin and clear cut deal over religion. For greed bears its merits, it brings a common honor, and understanding of personal want and growth. Yet there are other paths, other ideals that share this model. 

 

Take for example, the Path of Umbrage. The Sacred way of the Old Dark, that for near half a century now, has come to be spread in a diminished setting. Its words not made manifest, its ideals of expansion and magical renaissance. Not made manifest, for its herald lays languishing. Idle as one can be, and without proper vision for the future.

 

The title of Herald of Umbrage, has been left destitute and lacking. Those who practice such, and those who learn from its teachings, left lost or worse. Doing nothing. It is why I, a wanderer who sees not through the lenses of zealotry, but through the gaze of an artisan. It is as an artisan, and wielder of the Darkened Art. That I take back that, which has been left in the hands of the Mystics. Whereby the title, Herald of Umbrage, returns to those who innovate and expand that very original art. 

 

It is with such, that I challenge you, Aranur. For the very title you bear, that which is the Herald of Umbrage. I give you a single Grave Week to respond to this challenge, otherwise I shall take this title, and use it to forge a more radiant future for my craft and kin. 

 

Let our Renaissance begin

 

Signed 

 

Reynard Pharamir Delmar, The Lord of Crows

Spoiler

@Acostrob

 

[Morigung-oog 2434]

The newly ordained Herald of Strife found the missive entering their iron grasp. They needed only peer over it for a few seconds before a nod followed, one of approval.

 

"It has been too long. The Four Heralds must rise anew to spread the Primeval ways once more, lest we fade into further obscurity through the inaction of generations. As Maleficar are a threat to us, so too is stagnation. We only hope Delmar is versed enough in our ways.."

 

[christman 2320]

Spoiler

 

[glassyskies 241]

An elder follower of the faith cast a pair of furious, blazing sights over the script. A taloned digit ran 'cross the name of the challenged, 'Aranur,' 'fore returning to the challenger scribed at the bottom. The prince garnered their typical grimace. 

With crackle and sizzle, the parchment was immolated by a sudden plume of dragonsfire, and the titan rose. A gauntleted fist coiled about the bleak glaive resting beside them, risen to fondly peer over the rayless sun crowning its design. 

The devout Neare marched elsewhere, seeking this trader...

[Acostrob 257]

Within the deep reaches of the South, a gambeson-clad figure held the missive within its' grasp.

 

A strap went loose, a helmet falling onto the hardened dirt, revealing a face; a gaunt, ancient 'ker.

 

A nod was given, seemingly to no one, and a piece of blank parchment was withdrawn from a bag fastened to a horse's saddle. The 'ker began writing.

 

Spoiler

Reynard,

 

It seems a lot has changed since my last trek North; for my latest visit at the sacred cathedral revealed that the entire Holy City had still laid in ruins, pillaged and defiled by the masses of Canonists, Templars and Dragon-folk.

 

Before our ruination I fought tooth and nail to restore our Faith to its old glory. I stood guard day and night over our gates, awaiting the Anathema hordes. I prayed. I delivered sermons. I taught and schooled many, not just in our Faith, but in the art of war aswell, so they may carry the torch when my mind finally gives way to the endless centuries that it bears. Creator Almighty, I used my own, old hands to lay the bricks that were meant to separate us from the hordes, I built houses for our faithful, and I made the long trek South and back for supplies whenever there was need, when I could've commisioned the Xi'tharii to do it for me.

 

Alas, before my time came, my faith had been shattered.

 

I saw with my very own eyes as the Aengul-slaves broke down our walls. I fought as they stole our relics. I watched as my mentor and our leader, Lord Melandrach ran, tail between his legs.

 

We agree on one thing, Reynard. Blind faith leads nowhere. It is coin that governs this world, and it is our dedication as mortals towards gaining it that deserves true reverence. I will not be taking the road North to fight you, for there is little coin to be gained among the desolate, frozen peaks, and I agree that I had been Herald only in title for far too long. You are free to keep anything I may have left in Lumbridge for yourself, along with my old duties.

 

Signed,

 

Malag, the Reborn.