HOLY PROTECTORATE OF MALIN

[TaraJess 2848]

In an Imperial home, a small ward did listen as the missive was read. She'd patter up to her room after supper to write a letter, the tinkering sound of a music box playing in the background. Sloppy childish hand writing... but slowly it was starting to improve.

Little butterfly doodles dotted the edges of the pages...

"I do net want you to fight a war anymore Pa... I do net think anyone died over this... can we do it..? I want you and Mama to be okay..."

[Frisket 4538]

Vivien is throwing a grand fit. Within the collage, someone would think she’s a void stalker as her day has been ruined immensely 

 

“THESE STUPID F*** CAUROSIANS RAHHHHH!!!”

 

meanwhile

 

Ember was finding it hard to come to terms how there were no more elven nations. 
 

“Malins kind truly lost their spines with Elvenesse….”

[Koodini 854]

"How.. pathetic." Mumbled Noruidor, revulsion palpable. He'd never been of the Princedom yet found himself twined in disappointment all the same. A sanctuary for his kind stripped of its dignity, forced to kneel before an Emperor. Dark was the day. Dark as could be.

[Echo_42069 386]

[Tav 4336]

Such news gladdened Túrin, an allyship was the best means of securing their Princedom. It wasn’t like there were any solid allies left on the map, burning their copy of missives and all.

 

[Javert 9615]

"Da Sons of Krug stand alone." Declared the Rex of the Horde as the missive was given to him by a faithful goblin of his Clan. He pondered the new developments for a long while before setting the missive aside (He still collects them, as he finds the format beautiful) and sitting on his throne with a loud hum. After a time, he finally spoke; "...So be it."

[MatronMaeve 170]

Morwen Callaghan stared at the missive in hand, reading the words out slowly as her semi illiterate-self could. "Just look at them two signatures. Ay think Hadrian n' Argelion should just get married at this point. . .save us all bunch of war. But now this is messy, love triangle with Galahad n' the mix." With that she went home to dig through her stash of booze. For what else was there to do when the world was filled with so little hope?

[Cheeseycereal 829]

"Oh, okay!" An elfess shrugs, then takes a long sip of alcohol before burning the missive. Heh.

[Hungy 66]

"You cannot be serious. . ."  Was Learza's initial reaction to this news as she paid mind to recent decisions she's made, before an annoyed and tired sigh escaped her. The mali'aheral rolled up the missive and added it to the others she's collected, all of which carry the same form of news.
". . . Seems i've lost count. . ." 

[JoshBright 3014]

56 minutes ago, Frisket said:

Ember was finding it hard to come to terms how there were no more elven nations. 
 

“Malins kind truly lost their spines with Elvenesse….”

"I told you this would happen, elvendom was divided in differences they could never reconcile. The high elves of Haelun'or would never accept Caurost's rulership, and Caurost would accept nothing less then conquest of the other elven states. The vale would never accept either as an ally, nor would either accept them. Arrogance, Isolation, Delusion. The three great mistakes of elvendom, they could not even put their own dogma's aside to speak to one another." he said with a hum, having expected an outcome like this. 

[Laeonathan 5889]

"How did we go from twenty independent Petty Kingdoms to... Urguan, the Horde, Koyo-Kuni and the Empire of Azuras so quickly? Has it not only been 50 years since the Trade-States were annexed by the Pontifical states?" Godric of Adria wondered.

 

"Malin and Horen, united at last. As GOD intended, I suppose. Ave Imperium."

[Cryothane 809]

FOR THE SAKE OF THE SONS.

 

───────────────────────────────✦───────────────────────────────

A soft rustle disturbed the quiet of the Swornsword's room, as the missive slid from her hands. 

As crimson visage lingered upon the parchment for a long, unmoving moment. Not of shock. Not of fury.

 

A strange, settling stillness. A sort that shows when truth long avoided kneels before you, and there is not else you can do but look.

 

She understood the worry. An elven nation, in human's hands. For as many elves who knew the camaraderie humans had to offer, there were just as many who did not.

 

Yet, as the elfess' head rose - eyes gazing to the distant figure of her son, sat in the room beside. Brows knit with the tension of youth. The missive was softly folded, and settled down again. 

 

One could not be so foolish to drag themselves, their city, their kin and kind in general alike - to death. For naught, but pride.

For some it would be an uncomfortable change.

 

Yet for one elfess, she would take uncomfortable change, over watching her son join in a needless march for death.

Glory to the Holy Protectorate of Malin.

 

Glory to Elvenkind.

───────────────────────────────✦───────────────────────────────

[_xMika 284]

From within the safety of his own abode one of the many de Senna lingers a gaze at the missive written, with a gentle hum he pounders though a smile does form on those burnt features of his "Good, best bend a knee then fall i wonder who will be next" He states his voice filled with a sense of pride and loyalty, gently does he set the paper upon a wooden table leaving it there for the time being.

 

Spoiler

Werew0lf is your Savior

AVE IMPERIUM

Werew0lf is your Savior

AVE IMPERIUM

Long live the Empire

AVE IMPERIUM

 

[Metamancy 1759]

"Shibal." said An Cheong-Won.

[Medvekoma 2073]

In the half-furnished, shady copse of a tower at the base of the grand tree in Cauróst, now the Protectorate of Malin, a Maehr perched over the notice, reading every word, taking in every detail.

Her eyes skimmed over the details. Guaranteed to enact the law of Cauróst as it had been. She was guaranteed the right to worship her ancestors and the Mother-Moon to her bidding. There really wasn't anything in the treaty that'd impact her, beyond the chance she wouldn't have to pay the "Non-human visitor tax" if she visited the imperial capital again.

 

Then, as she sat there, the room almost lit up, a candle right above her head magically springing ablaze. An idea, or as ancient elvish would prescribe, an Eu'reka.

 

"We're now part of the Imperium ... I could access /all their mines/. I could sell my wares in /all their markets/."

 

The realisation left the Mali'ker's crimson eyes briefly reflect a cascade, a waterfall of minae falling into her lap, piling into a glistening mound of gold around her.