The Mindlords Wrath : The Delvers March On Malinor

[Polgrath 215]

((For background music, enjoy here, 

))



 

              Polgrath stands at the balcony of the collapsed Arcane
Delver tower gazing northwards across the inland sea.  Far, beyond the horizon lies Malinor, forest land, and former peaceful and tranquil nation. As he stands at the balcony Polgrath feels an emotion generally foreign to him. Rage. Taking out a quill Polgrath sits down and begins to write. A good while later he hands the parchment to his scribe for copying and then sends out several Mageshield Recruits to distribute the notice to major cities throughout Anthos. Walking back to the balcony Polgrath stares out, to the north with a single word on his mind.


Soon.




~Pamphlet

“To the readers of this notice whoever ye may be. I shall get the point across
post-haste. The Sentinels of Malinor, who answer to the High Council, assaulted
and attempted to slay my men and I while we peacefully looking into Malinor real estate
with no provocation. Outnumbered we fought our way out and escaped
from their compound. But they will not escape us likewise.  The Sentinels have
engaged in an act of war against The Arcane Delvers and so we declare it on them
and the High Council they answer to. Too long have diplomatic means been attempted
and failed. Blood shall be met with blood. To be clear we do not assault the
people of Malinor but the murderous military leadership and the corrupt “High
Council” they answer to. Any Sentinel is welcome to defect to our side as many
have already upon seeing the insanity of their officers.
                 As Oren and Uragan has already declared war upon Malinor's ruling Council and support reform and overthrow of the High Council they are welcome to join in with our
efforts. The High Elves would be appreciated if they aided us as one of their
own Kalenz Uradir, was nearly slain at the hand of the maniacal commander
Benedict. As speaker for the Malinor Reform Movement I strongly suggest
any who hath been trod on and suffered at the hands of the current
leadership and Sentinels take up arms with us to institute a reform of the corrupt system.  In regards to Darkhaven I have not declared war in my capacity as High Chancellor and will permit the Darkhaven Council to vote to decide if they wish to join us in this endeavor.



Our Terms are as Follows:


Item the First: The ENTIRE High Council
will step down immediately transfer leadership to us and be replaced by a democratic government.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Item the Second: The current Sentinel military leadership
will be restructured to our satisfaction. Any current leaders who refuse to
join our cause are to be exiled or if they act in violence, slain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Item the Third: The defeated wench Lywanneth “Bluerobes”’s and the mad Commander Benedict's heads shall be removed for their crimes and presented on a pair of pikes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Our  terms are entirely non-negotiable. If they are not met within two elven days
from  now, we march within the elven week to have our terms met through force. This will be no mere raid, this will be a forceful takeover. 

A hand was extended bearing an olive branch, but it was met with an axe.
Now the time for talk has passed. They shall be met or we march with spell and steel against any tyrants who still oppose us.

* a sentence has appeared on each of the bottoms in ghostly blue transparent text
A single elven day is left to accept the demands.

((The attempted Malinor takeover is planned for next Saturday, will decide on more exact time shortly, anyone who would RPly be involved in the battle is welcome to show up! :)
- No golden apples

- No enchanted weapons (Unless specifically lore approved)

- No potions (Unless specifically lore approved))

[Rayna Star 167]

*Ashley looks at the notice with anger*

"They want to hurt my friends..."

*Her fingers tighten around the hilt of her broadsword*

"Well, they won't get far."

*She walks away in a huff*

 

((Too bad I won't be there. Seems like it'll be some good rp.))

[the GOAT of the craft 606]

Rhazev gets halfway through the pamphlet, stops reading, reaches into his over sized pockets and takes out all the other notes and letters like this. He adds this pamphlet to the pile and remarks;

 

"This is getting boring now."

[Dreek 1633]

*Commander Dreek Ireheart looks at the pamphlet that was delivered to the dwarven city, and rolls it up, before walking over to kjell's office and delivering it to him.*

[Sentlit 108]

*Cyrus peers over the notice with widening eyes.*

"By the Gods..."

*He seems to want to say more, but is stunned by the news. Cyrus turns and swiftly walks back toward Ac'talareh with his hands shaking nervously.*

[Schneebo 1593]

Watches as the courier frantically hands him a note in Salvus and out of shear curiosity opens the note. As Keegan scans over the note he maniacally laughs to himself and thinks "Maybe that worthless Arch Druid, Thudrin, will resist and be executed!" Keegan throws the note in the air to be swiftly carried by the wind.

[Lord_Sauron_ 43]

Vanir reads it, his brow furrowed. Not disregarding this one, as a result of the fact that he has a friend in the Delvers, he shrugs.

'Maybe this time something will actually happen,' he thinks as he continues to read.

When he reaches the part about Lyweneth and the nickname of bluerobes, a laugh builds inside him as he recognizes the origin. Failing at keeping it in, he chuckles and grins at the name.

Shaking his head slightly, he bears a small smile as he smooths up the corner of the notice. Satisfied, he nods whistles as he walks off. His kestrel, Narn'sul, dives from the canopy and lands upon his offered shoulder, claws scraping the tough leather pad. Vanir pulls out a little piece of paper and begins to write a note, taking only a little time to do so before he whispers a name to Narn'sul and gently ties the note to the falcon's leg. Once the letter is secure via a little green ribbon, he jerks his shoulder upwards and watches as the bird flies south.

[meg 1994]

The Courier stands at a stall in Salvus, debating on the price of some tea Elene had requested, he finally negotiates a fair price, tucking it carefully into his basket, he beings to head back to the Manor. He stops, curtly, turning to see a crowd gathered, people walking away with pamphlets. He nods, taking one, and opening it. His eyes scan over it, opening wide, as he rushes back to the manor. 

 

Elene sits up, watching him enter the room, he falls down, exhausted, before handing her the pamphlet. She scans through it, sighing deeply, before reading over it one last time. She sets it upon the table with other notes and letters about Malinor. She speaks, lowly...

 

 

"So much to do, such little energy..."

 

She looks back to the paper, focusing on the part about Lyweneth, before giggling slightly.

[CraftPrime 35]

*Smoke grows excited after peering at the notice, he unsheathes his one-sided blade and looks at it.*

 

"It has been forever since Kageshini got the chance to reap in a war. I guess, it's only a matter of time..."

[Pato 82]

Oz reads the notice, frowning slightly. 

He mutters to himself, repeating what he read. 

 

"The entire High Council will step down... transfer leadership... be replaced by a democratic governement of 'our choosing'? Surely seems 'democratic'. Not to mention of the High Council has left already..."

Oz continues reading, tsking.

"A seize of power by those who promise democracy without negotiations... The world is truly a relentless place."

 

Oz sighs as he glimpses around the area. He walks off, perhaps in search of a few friends to discuss with or maybe for a simple drink.

[Blundermore 2741]

*Apon reading the notice he sags slightly... mulling over what to do. Returning to his tower he opens an old and dusted trunk, to reveal an older set of Robes within.*

 

"Strange... I never thought I would need to wear this again..."

 

*Putting on the robe, he pulls the hood over the top of his head. With but a tap of his staff, he vanishes from the tower. The intent, unknown.*

[thewhiteknights(rarethorn) 27]

*reads the note and thinks of artimec as a mage shield he pins it on his board and sharpens his weapons. He goes back to a mage shield with a note and says "take it to your leader"* 

 

Dear leader of the mage shield, 

 I see your concerns and view your ideas as great. I would like you to know you have my support and my help may be measly but if I can bring down the council I shall not pass the opportunity. I will be clad in phoenix armor of oren if you see me and wish to talk. I will also assist if harm comes to any of your men. Reading of this slaughter of your men enclosed in this letter is 2 bandages for you. 

 

Good luck. 

 

-Phoenix Medic Rarethorn of House Bronte. ((thewhiteknights))

 

*he then returns home thinking of war and begins to slice heads off dummys and pack medical supplies.*

[Princeton 396]

Aelor glances through the pamphlet rather quickly, muttering "Perhaps..." in a cold and unforgiving voice.

[Igneberr 46]

Igneberr looks at the note and laughs and thinks to himself "So these people claim to be helping when they put it clearly they just want to put themselves upon the High Council, and killing any warrior that doesn't join them? Even more barbaric."

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

Artimec stands out in the back courtyard of Ac'talareh, concentrating all his focus on the composition of a Pumpkin headed dummy...a dummy mounted with the helmet of a sentinel. His bow gripped tightly in his palm.

 

He gracefully slides out an arrow, fitting it unto the string. He pauses for a moment, savouring the moment before the shot. And the arrow flies.

 

Art grins as he watches his arrow sail into the dummy's chest, watching it sway back and forth with the force. Subconsciously drawing another arrow, he fires another shot at the dummy, this time an arrow piercing the pumpkin head, the plant splatters, seeds flying in every which way, the Helmet of the sentinel lying drooped over the remaining wooden portions of the dummy. 

 

Art slings his bow back over his back. He grins, and walks back into the fort.