Captain Jester

As a former active roleplayer providing an ooc point, no, I don't think a nobility and hierarchy would fit the Vale especially with how their role play usually goes: a group of leaders that turn to their community for whatever topic's brought up through a moot, voting, etc- as Wizry said: a democracy. There are a lot of problems that I see instilling a noble heirarchy in the Vale that Dragonoftaters already pointed out: anarchists (Eat the rich), democracy (everyone's equal), long elven/non-elven lives (Scenario example: Hey Queen/Princess Dyonne, when are you going to die/step down so I can be ruler?) where LOTC's timespan is where a real life year = 50 years for an elf and that's where they are IC culturally an adult- point being that's a lot waiting where I don't think a lot of people are willing to do, potential toxicity and ooc/rp classism (there's IC racism already in the Vale). If your character has reason to believe that the Vale should have a noble hierarchy, bring it up in role play, in a moot as Floral Hedgehog suggested. It could bring potential character growth and conflicts in role play if that's what you're looking for. Terry's pretty right on getting organic nevaehlen responses, you're better off that way in getting something more interesting out of it.

GIVE THIS MAN REP

"Damn the darkspawn." An elfess would utter within the confines of her sisters laboratory, sharpening the blade of her war-axe. What blood will her weapon spill, the world may know soon enough. The heroic story of her aunt still fresh in the elfesses' mind. "Damn the dragonkin. Damn Azdromoth. Where's a spear when you need one?"

LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO LETS GO!!!!

Reporting this for misinformation, you deserve to be on the bingo card too 🔫

Gamma and Free space is Josey, easy, Bingo

Elanor gives a thumbs up after reading the invitation. Now her main problem is finding a nice dress for a momentous occasion.

Elanor sat on the bed of her room, reading it. She tilts her head down and her eyes widen, "Woah... Sure, why not, **** it." Elanor shrugs then, deciding that this is where she'll probably meet Vallei's child for the first time.

"Maehr'sae hiylun'ehya." Celadon nods his head at Elarhil within the Sullas manor. Good job, that'll do, that'll do. He even... gives him a thumbs up.@riorr

Celadon Sullas relaxed within the comforts of his own home; relaxing after a long day doing whatever. Today was a fine day to read the Haelun'or gazette too. He drank his tea with the pamphlet in hand... and chokes. "What?" He continued to read on with furrowed brows... There came a long, deep sigh. Now his night became even longer.

"uell ito maruthiron." muttered out a white haired elfess as she writes furiously onto sheets of paper.

"Celia'nors completely gone mad." A mali'aheral with blonde curls would mutter to himself with the missive in his hand, he frowns initially, "Attempting to kill Idril? " Then he lets out a chuckle of his own, "They're afraid of her. Truly. They're ******* afraid of what she can do."

A man with locks akin to the sand's golden hues would hum out a solemn melody, furiously hammering away against a bright hot end of metal that would soon turn into a sword. Then there was a moment of pause. He thought back to Elias, the human that stuck out to him the most out of everyone within the land of elves, aside from the Everwinter druid. He recalled the aging blonde with tired eyes in fondness, the laughs they shared. Hell, Elias is the reason why Evar'lae's able to smith today. There was a moment where he, Daerine, and Elias were at his old home and laughed about the trauma they endured in their own lives. An elf's lifetime may continue on, but that cannot be said the same for the rest, especially humans. A hard lesson Evar'lae had learned early on in his first century. As expected, Evar'lae and Elias grew apart and focused more important things in their lives. They weren't close per say, but Elias was still a good man to Evar'lae. He respected the paladin, the paladin with tired eyes that roared on with golden fire. Wherever Elias roamed, all Evar'lae could hope for his friend is that Elias is satisfied with his limited time. That he remembers everything with fondness and fulfillment.

Evar'lae would be resting in a hammock right at his home, far from the bustling cities and villages, reading over the flier he had picked up from his last visit to Idril. His lilac eyes scanned over the letters, a solemn look on his face. There was a mutter, then a grumble, before his gaze softens. "Best of luck to you, my dearest friend." He'd murmur out, his lips curling into a faint smile now. Finally, the blonde elf makes preparations to travel once again. Meanwhile, Elanor Sylvaeri remained in the living room of the manor with a book in her hand. She had already picked out a dress and a necklace for her mother's coronation, there really wasn't much for her to do but to nurse her own wounds while she waits for the day to arrive. The grown woman blows a snowy white strand of hair from her face, pouting her lips, maybe she should go ask her mother for the 40th time if the outfit she chose is good.