The Wayward Branch

[MrSyth 636]

 

The Wayward Branch

 

 

Issued by the

MAHERAL

3rd of The Amber Cold, 261 S.A.

 

---

Educate these Mali’Aheral the correct way. The only way.

 

-Malaurir Lelien Lazul

 

---

 

To friends, colleagues, allies, but most importantly to a confused prince: I write this missive to restore your grasp on reality. It warms our heart that you vow to restore the city of Siraminde. Its story is far from over, and to let a few puddles and some scorched marble sign its fate would be an injustice to its architects. Know, however, that it is no longer elHaelun’or. For Haelun’or is not a place, but a people. A people that those who would grant you this land attempted to exterminate, be it children or elderly. A people that now roam the continent, be it bare or disguised. A culture that the Valah would like to see eradicated, now spreading to more ears than ever before as Mali’Aheral mingle with any who would bless us with their hospitality.  As such, elHaelun’or will find its place again, as it has done so many times before.

Thus, Autumn Prince, Lord, Tir’sair, we wish you the best of luck. But ruler of Haelun’or, you are not.

 

-S 

 

 

Spoiler

@Aeus

 

[Arianthe22 242]

A pale elf picked up the missive, reading through its words, the news more ridiculous than anything he had ever heard. “Confused indeed if they think they can take our name, our culture and identity.” A rare chuckle escaped his lips in amusement. “For all that acid and hate, they sure seem eager to be us.”.
 

[Samler 1564]

Seth Calith smiled from behind his mask upon receiving the missive from his dear friend. "I wonder how long it takes for them to claim ownership of Larihei as if she was an object." The elf leaned back in his chair, within his secret base in 'totally-not-in-Alba' as he then ordered his atronachs about to read it. "Please remember this, weapons. We will never worship nor praise Malin, the terrible king, a disgrace to even my former cousins, even more so to his daughter, Larihei"

[Mynto 107]

Carried by a rotund bee who'd softly thunk against his office window, this missive would have found itself in the hands of one reclusive and slightly buzzed mali'aheral. "... I suppose t'hen dae still consider mae one o' em?" he'd mumble with a gruff slur, setting the missive aside his patients files as he organized the shelves "Ah' wonder how long et'd take fer em teh ferget' mae hospitality again..."

[JoshBright 3014]

"ooo more fire starter." An elf would say picking up the missive and mixing it with trigs and sap of a pine tree. "Braincells they sorely lack, Important these do lack." he said with a hum "perhaps the new rulers of Haelun'or's land will do better then those who came before them... and with less xionists." Jarad would say to ember while in the forest on a hunt "History, great teacher it is, such a shame that haelun'or did not review its study material."

 

@Frisket

[Frisket 4538]

“Take your medicine old man, stop beating the dead horse…”

 

Ember responds as she does her nightly hair routine in the living room.

[Lumipire 110]

“Ah, finally! ElMaheral! Words of reason are being spoken.” Beamed the flower-crowned elf, a bright and true smile returning to light his face. “A rare sight to behold these days - I was starting to think reason and good decisions had been hunted alongside us also.”

[Laeonathan 5889]

"Well he rules Haelun'or, doesn't he?" 

Commented Oliver Sarkozic, grinned wickedly as he comicly threw the missive INTO THE FIRE.

[Asutto 2452]

31 minutes ago, Laeonathan said:

"Well he rules Haelun'or, doesn't he?" 

Commented Oliver Sarkozic, grinned wickedly as he comicly threw the missive INTO THE FIRE.

 

Sometime a week later, a wayward 'thill, unaware of any quips made by a certain Sarkozic, sat down by the great hearth, flipping idly through dusty history books detailing the Empire's past. She eventually came across a title that read "THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE HOLY ORENIAN EMPIRE". It was a hefty book, large enough to end a Halfling's life with. As she flipped through it, her fingers paused amid the eighth chapter: the reign of Philip II. A comical Emperor, surely. One, she heard of all too much from the ramblings of her former Idunian overlords, who crowed about how awful Imperialism is.  Despite his short and idiotic reign, he had perhaps one success - tightening his control over the Duchy of Adria despite the Carrion-spawns' best attempt to reclaim it at the Second Dumapalooza.

Other accounts she had read detailed how much Carrions despised Fat Philip, but after all, once he ennobled his son with the title, and afforded him land, he ruled Adria didn't he? A sad legacy for such a tainted Duchy to still stagger around with.
 

[Amuletic 926]

A figure cloaked in silk and dripping in silver stood alone near the water's edge. Veralya Wynasul held the missive loosely in her hand, the tide breaking where she waited, the wind pulling at her sleeves.

 

“Haelun’or will return in its full glory soon enough,” she foretold, looking out to the empty shore before her.

 

“Maehr’sae hiylun’ehya.”