The Sohaer's Duty

[PolarLoLs 984]

 

ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱɪʟᴠᴇʀ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴡ ᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴏʟɪꜱʜ

 

You were offered mercy even by our most cruel, your walls quickly crumbled beneath our might, Yet you still fought, that is admirable. Every shield crumbles beneath the right weight..

 

Haelun'or was raided in search for failed Sohaer and foolish xionist ACALMAEHR CALITH and thus they denied our request, they fought and defended him to the death, Even as their current Sohaer warned them not- it is not new for those of high elven to give up the chance to save themselves, in exchange for more detriment and suffering.

 

Never again should you beg to tread into our halls and brag of conquest, It will be returned.

 

Do not make the same mistake Veralya Wynasul. Do not forget the Sohaer’s duty.

 

Aucte, Her Unholy Eminence,

Ra’vor Ozorr

The Black Bishop, Prophet of the Usurpent, Shepherd of the Lost

 

[Rig 17580]

Within the halls of the Demon King, there echoed the laughter of Vriza and Skulltaker.

[Random 1690]

“Darkspawn on Darkspawn violence.” was the single comment made at the table of the royal Arthalionath of Idunia as news of the slaughter spread north.

[BoneChive 365]

Somewhere within the frost-choked hollow of the Rimeglen, 'neath vaults of stone,

The Great Warlord Maziik's laughter rumbled out like an avalanche.

 

"BAHAH!! Perhaps-" it began, voice grinding as if tectonic plates shifted underneath "I judged this lot too swiftly."

The echoes of its voice lingered long after merriment and joy had curdled into something colder.

[Venomous_Pup 2978]

A Witch cackles, everything going exactly as it was meant to, after all, it was only the day prior they had found out about the former Sohaer's foolish words. The world would be purged of men like him.

[Air 912]

"These fools and their pride. . ."

Murmured a former Sohaer as he stepped over the corpses of the fallen.

His day now disturbed and wrought with worry for his wife.

[ProcaPro 557]

A Leper tends her injuries in a dark hall, still chuckling about the close calls of the day. Clearly, she's quite pleased with the outcome of the day.

[Morigung-oog 5697]

Valithael’s lips curled slightly as she read the missive, though her expression held little in terms of warmth. Perhaps it manifested as the result of some form of grim amusement, as though she'd born witness intriguing play amidst a largely dull and uneventful game.

 

“Curious,” hummed the ancient general to nobody in particular, folding the parchment betwixt slender fingers. Her amusement was interrupted by the soft, grating sound of befuddlement that came from a hulking golem butler that stood a previously silent sentinel in the corner of the room. 

 

"Haelun’or had been offered a choice only in the most superficial sense." Sighed she, as though curiosity and confusion were utterly intolerable sins within her household, "Should Verayla give the order to have Acal’maehr surrendered, the silver city would stand revealed as one willing to deliver into the hands of Ibleesian zealots. Refuse, and they would be painted as protectors of a Xionist harbourers of the very corruption they so often claimed to scourge from their city."

 

Once more did she permit that all-too-telling smirk to curl at the corners of her lips. A palmed hand snapped to a shut like a wicked vice, crumpling the parchment into a small ball now entrapped within her iron fist.

 

"A snare with two prongs, each closing in the moment the other is moved. No easy decision, no correct answer."

 

She permitted herself a quiet huff of breath, something seemingly somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. Disgust and amusement came together in a paradoxical marriage.

 

"In truth, it verges on artful," Valithael remarked coolly, more to herself than the construct who had fallen dormant once more. It had clearly been trained to do that which irritated the elf, to question so that she might refine logic and explanation. "No matter the path chosen, Haelun’or would appear diminished, weak, corrupt. They present to the wider realm as either collaborators with the servants of Iblees, or hypocrites shielding the very thing that saw them condemned just a few years prior."

 

Her pale gaze drifted across the room to a small vessel, a once likely valuable brazier pilfered from the ruins of Haelun'or, prior to the Autumn prince's claiming of the once isolated bastion, now repurposed as a receptacle for that which was unused and discarded; ironic, really.

 

"One might almost admire the craftsmanship of the trap, had it not been employed by the dregs of Darkspawn society."

 

In one deft motion, the crumpled notice was discarded, finding its mark among the various other notices set within the recycled brazier-bin. With a flare of her hues, and the snap of her fingers, it was consumed in teal flame, rendered to mere ash. With a further subtle gesture-- a curling of the digits--, the automated servant rose from its position, carrying the smouldering brazier out of the manor to discard the contents.

 

"Still, I suppose it is fitting. A nation so obsessed with purity should, eventually, find itself tested by a dilemma where no answer leaves them truly unblemished, untarnished."

 

She paused, a glimmer of inspiration taking to her otherwise dormant gaze.

 

"I might add this example as a scenario to my offsprings' curriculum, to teach them the weight of decision and the unforgiving nature of consequence."

 

Valithael tilted her head slightly, and turned to her board, covered with a map of Azuras, and settlements marked increasingly in the deep burgundy-purple of the Imperium.

 

"Your move, Sohaer."