Demented_Delila

((MC name: Demented_Delila)) Name: Dele Seregon Vote for Okarir'nor: ( XX ) Zelios Elibar'acal ( ) Nuala Telperion

5th of Malin's Welcome, 1793 Within silver walls, and eons gone by of our peoples' long lives, I found myself unsatisfied in the way we, as Mali'thill, regarded death. It is a mortal thrall, and anything that bleeds can die for sure. Why is it that our funeral rites are, in a way, deeply impersonal? We "bury" the ones without bodies and care little for the dead who lay before us on their pyre. It baffled me how many times we'd decided that someone was dead, only to find out otherwise. No body, no death. I find this incredibly negative, if not shameful, of us as a people that we assume by default that should someone go missing for a few months, that they are dead. I've done it a few times myself, really, but it's a habit I have broken. With no body to burn, why declare them dead? Have we seen their mortal forms, laid broken at our feet? Every missing 'thill without a body recovered is just one more 'thill we can welcome home one day. It did not seem right to me, to watch the very essences of someone's existence be washed away by the rain. It saddened me as I know that we are a resourceful people. There was use in ash still, for wonderful things that I wish were commonplace in Haelun'or. For paints. For ink. These are ways that we could've been celebrating these lives without such disregard for their death. It was suggested once to me that funeral ash was invaluable; value can be found in almost anything if you possess the knowledge. The use of ash in inks and paints is surprisingly more common than one might realize, with charcoal powder used some of our darker inks. The process of cremation and with further work produces a varying amount of ash, but very little is needed for inks and paint pots. Jars for writing works in dedication, pots for creating masterpieces in reflection, and a particularly industrious Mali may even use them in glass work. The very crux of this practice would reinforce our desire about “living forever”, our Library becoming Eternal in more ways than just name. It seems an awful waste to discard something that could be made into something far precious then it seems. The Valah have their own funeral practices, like keeping their urns, or burying their loved ones if they’ve the land. We don't have such practices in the Silver State, we use the space for the living, although some relatives of the deceased have been known to keep urns as well. We could have something nicer. Something better. Why do we not bury our loved ones in art? In literature? We could add to the culture and let them live on even when they are no longer. It would further enable us to add to the growing collection of the Eternal Library, while honoring the deceased more than we do right now. I have said prior, I am dissatisfied with our approach to death, as I felt it deeply impersonal to host a public pyre then never speak of it again. We’ve been known to tell our younger kin about the people who have passed away; but in a way, books about their lives and their truths would tell the story themselves in ink made from their remains. I would hope such a practice coming into play would actually drive us to be less wasteful with what we have and are given. In part, I also hope that we as a people would begin to find value in recovering our dead when they are lost, rather than jumping to conclusions because we have, in a way, lost hope about them coming home to us. It’s so easy to do so, but then when the declared dead do come home, we have to swallow up our tears and our pride and admit that we thought they were dead. In some cases, they weren’t even looked for. Below, I’ve provided some examples of works I procured from the Eternal Library’s collection with assistance due to the closing. I’ve noticed that they are a touch Distorian in taste, but it’s the closest example I could find to what I picture when I think about painting with ink. [!] A painting taken from a Bestiary Guide [!] One of the paintings from a geographical guide, obtained from nearby Nakamachi. [!] A copy of a colored ink wash portrait from a book on botany. Okarir'hiylun, Laurir

((MC name: Demented_Delila )) Name: Dele Seregon Vote for Aiera Sullas: ( X) For ( ) Against

Luisa looks over the armorial, holding it aloft so that her son Wilheim Ioann could not attempt to eat or grab it. She nods along, finding this to be a well put together and aesthetically pleasing missive... ”Das ist gut.”

The Dark Carnival From the Office of Elokarir’Hiylun 10th of the Amber Cold, 1790 As the days grow longer, the howl of the bitter winds begin to grow, the pumpkins ripe and round in their patches. Hallow’s Eve grows ever nearer and Haelun’or has chosen to celebrate amidst the victories of the descendants against the Inferi. Be you halfling, orc, or man, the High Elves invite you to mask yourselves as something entirely else- within reason, of course. There will be games and treats and merriment enough for all who enter the Silver Bastion to join in our “Dark Carnival”, where the monsters run amok with candy and wine rather than frightful screams. Lareh’thilln plays host to this event and invites her allies and more to join in the revelry of the season, donning costumes or not is up to those who come. A brief list of events to occur through the evening... Assorted Festival Games [Apple Bobbing, Strongman Game, other games to be added] The Pumpkin Carving Contest Witches’ Brew Drinking Contest The Costume Contest [Group and Single] Assorted Booths A gentle reminder; this list of events is not complete, there is possibility for more events and activities through the night as citizens of Haelun’or join in on the festivities. We ask you not to bring genuine weapons to the event and ask that masks be briefly removed when entering the gate processing period. [OOC: Event will be taking place on October 25th, starting at 4pm EST.] [Contact Delila#0510 if you have questions.]

Epistle on the Firstborn 11th of the Grand Harvest, 1789 In recent times, a thought has weighed heavy on my conscience. Why is it that we, as Mali’thill, and Descendants in general refer to Azdromoth, The Firstborn, by a secondary term; Arch Drakaar? Does Drakaar not imply a darker, more vile substance to this ancient being? I do not purpose to instead call him Dragaar, as that implies holy light. Azdromoth, I believe, is somewhere in between, just as perhaps we should have seen from the start based alone on his stance on how he views both sides of the coin. I recall early on within Haelun’or’s Pact with the Firstborn that he wished for a purging of all that was holy and dark from within the city. The darkness, like Ibleesian ilk, lingered but did not return after he was notified of it seeping into the walls of the Silver City. Would a Drakaar not tolerate this darkness? Then, on the other hand, would a Dragaar not in turn tolerate the Paladins and all that was holy? Azdromoth simply just is what he is; The Firstborn, a Titan, Azdromoth. We call him Drakaar and the more I learn and understand, this is purely a Descendant label, the same as how we label humans between Heartlander and Highlander, or the ‘berun from the regular ‘ame. We must look at the definition of Drakaar for what it implies; corruption, betrayal, and a great deal of violent nature. Azdromoth is a far cry from either side, and in most cases, we do not have a label to fit what he has become. He seems to radiate darker tones to his actions, but I have not but once seen him properly drawn to ire so much that he does something himself. When we have seen draconic violence, it is typically an Azdrazi, acting within their free will of what they believe will please their Father. The very concept of free will is present within Azdromoth, and by extension his brood of Azdrazi. The Drakaar, so I’ve heard it said, did not have this gift. While they are not descendants, we must recognize that every creature with free will is capable of morality. The term Drakaar alone, I believe, has caused quite a few angry feelings and stirred up fear. It references daemonic entities, but if the Azdrazi were born of a truly daemonic being, would they not always be called Azdrazi even when they cast aside their Father’s blessing to become Daemonic Azdrazi? There is still no word for this type of betrayal, mind you, so they are just called by this. The history of the Firstborn is peculiar and while I do not have all of it documented, I believe it best to view him for what he has become now. He is grey in morality, neither quite a Dragaar or Drakaar, but something entirely within himself as I have said before. He is still an Arch-something, but the question is what? That is my question, in fact. Having asked a Herald of the Titan what the Draan word for grey was, I believe the term Dra-Kifel may be best fit. Though in some cases, the elvish word Diraar, meaning Guard, may be the better option based on the Firstborn’s desire to protect the Eos. Penned by

“And yet they offer no apology for slander. This simply just does not sound like an ‘apology’, it sounds like a list of excuses. Does not have political views but openly seeks to damage the reputation of Okariran, writing the words of the people to afraid to speak? We’re not Diarchists. Nobody’s been punished for speaking up or out since- well. I can’t remember, it’s been a terribly long time...”

Dele quietly reviews the missive after finally having a breakdown; her expression only remains that of anger as this blatant lie sat before her. She recalls her journey into the Firelands, letting herself part with a mourning locket made from her husband’s armor- though it was returned she’d not worn it since; it’d been ultimately the “let go” motion she’d needed. She didn’t seek power, nor fame, or knowledge when she sat within the halls of the Black Ziggurat, forced to her knees before a power she would not see. She sought to protect her own. ”My pact and ‘worship’ of the Arch Drakaar is none of your concern, wordsmith because they are done for my own reasons. It is no secret that my pact is not of heraldry or ascension through flames, I’m quite open about my lack of draconic markings on my body... I sold my soul to protect my son; what can say for yourself, Wordsmith? If you are too afraid to face those in charge with your questions then truly you’re nothing but a Diarchist at heart. Maybe you ought to **** right off to whatever rock you crawled from under?” She was embittered, knowing truths to those who had been responsible for these writings, Anethra had discussed with her; and yet she was betrayed. She was hurt. What point was there to make in trying to make them seem like villains? If the writer wanted a monster, then she’d not find one here.

The elf would learn some days later of her former student passing. She might’ve cried had it been unexpected. Yet, at the end of it, it was expected and she’d braced herself for the inevitable. Off she went, fetching her own pipe and smoking blend, lighting it up and sitting on the steps of the clinic, a place she’d grown to know the halfling during his midlife years. She stares on quietly, exhaling the sickly sweet smoke and recounting to herself the years that had come before.

[!] Multiple missives have been posted around Haelun’or, and a few sent to Helena. 12th of the First Seed, 1786 As the calm has returned, the paperwork set forth, and the tune of diplomacy heavy on the air, it is with great amount of relief the travel ban into the Orenian city of Helena is lifted. While I understand that a great deal of concern had come up on this subject, as to why such a ban was issued in the first place, I can offer some answers. It was in safety’s interest for the ban to be issued until a Sohaer could be instituted and paperwork be drafted by which the Office of the Okarir’hiylun could begin to draft identification papers for mali’thill with the wish to travel out of the city. While these are not enforced, they are encouraged for those within Haelun’or who wish to travel beyond our Silver Bastion. Similar to the years of the AIS vs ISA war, the world is a bit uncertain, and one can never be too safe. Thank you for your time and patience while these times ahead of us are sorted out. The identification papers being issued will be good until the year 1796. The forms for these are below. Signed, ElOkarir’hiylun

Dele lights her pipe as she settled in her chair, feet up on the desk as she reviews the missive. She maintains a bored expression, blowing smoke rings, before crumpling it up and tossing it. “He’s been dead to this city for years, don’t know why he decided to keep the name.”

”Ich am being to notice a pattern in these poems....” The Barclay comments to her hedgehog after finding the newest selection of poems from darling Ruben. The woman simply tucks the page back to wherever she’d uncovered it from. She was mildly concerned, once again, about how drunk the man had been.

Luisa would find this poem, eventually, squinting as she reads it once. Then twice. Then thrice, just for god measure. She isn’t quite sure what to make of it, truly, beyond that Ruben was probably high on frostvine or something, or maybe very drunk. “Ich do niet understand this, at all. Oh, ich guess he listened to me talking about pastel gems the other night...”

THE BALLOT ((MC name:Demented_Delila )) Name: Dele Seregon Vote for Sohaer: (X) Anethra Uradir (X) Eredael Rhenaer

Let the catmen live, please?