The Denouncement of Terrorism

[Zindran 590]

The Denouncement of Terrorism

5th of The Amber Cold, 259 SA

To the Empire, and Idunia
(( @Tide1@Lenny))

I send this message to give you absolute certainty that what remains of the High Elves do not side with any terrorism that rogue agents of our kin do unto your people, and we ask that you punish them to the full extent of your laws. We disavow any such person that commits such acts against the Empire and Idunia, as we desire not to do unto you as you have done to us. We are better than answering blood with senseless blood.

This is only a short missive from myself to you, and I pray such acts aren't done unto you - we are better than such actions.

 

To my people, it is unwise to answer blood with blood. Our race is long-lived, and our memory is deep. If we answer in this way, we will never survive.

May God guide you all, and Larihei guide my people,
Sohaer Laerean Sylvaeri, Protector of the Eternal Library

[Ferd0207 217]

"They still believe Man can be reasoned with." The sanguine-haired Mali warrior said as he threw the missive in the mud. "Fools. The lot of them." - "Next they will denounce Larihei herself."

[Kirkigar 133]

The young 'aheral is interrupted from his nap. He takes the paper, reads it, and sighs "Until the idiots figured it out" He chuckles as he yawns, "Although that was quick that I expected" 

[Cheeseycereal 829]

"How depressing."

 

The elfess muttered it beneath her breath as she skimmed the missive, fingers pressing into the edge of her chin. A quiet tsk followed

 

"Do not beg at the leg that has kicked you…" she scoffed, furrowing her brows. "For what is the tale of the Mali’thill, if not a people forever eager to disown what they once upheld?"

 

Her gaze dragged down the parchment, unimpressed.

 

"Haelun’or lasted centuries," she murmured, “and yet its children cling to their destroyers like pups scratching at the door."

[Frisket 4543]

“Despicable…”

 

Ember resounds from her home. The ‘asul brimming with a bland vocal. Her features scrunched as she reads a pitiful ploy of pity and mercy.

 

”Where is that High and Mighty gaunt you all walked with when you extorted my people and tried to credit yourselves for the fall of the Ibarellans?”

 

she asked herself

 

”where is the pompous attitude you slipped into, and dared aim swords at other Mali with when they were genocided?”

 

and then she drank her cup, of a golden ale which sat beneath the flames of a candle light

 

”Where is your shouts of victory, of progress and health, how sad they’ve been reduced to nothingness, and watch as they attempt to do the same thing they criticized the ‘Ame for?”