Valannor

[!] The following document may only be found within Xannic strongholds across the realm, where’er they may be located. Wrought of crisp parchment and bound in gilded tome, it would be scribed of azure inks - carrying with it an impression of warmth and grace, a sacral weight about its countenance. The Sunlit Path Authored by Tarathiel Asul’onn. 𝄞𝄞𝄞 Tracing their legacy back to the elder days of ancient Sheerok, the doctrines of Light and Order have long been held by the Paladins of Xan as values of utmost sanctity, transcribed from the sacred halls of the Order of the Golden Lance as the interpretation of the Lord of Sunlight’s very words. To follow the Sunlit Path and adhere to the Golden Mandate is to harken to the words uttered upon the sunbroken isles where Order made manifest once proclaimed His dominion, and to gird oneself against the whispers of The Betrayer - to steel the spirit and resolve oneself to withstand the temptations of Ruin that gnaw at the souls of mortalkind. It is a discipline not of personal gain, but of self-sacrifice and abstention from the corruption that runs rampant throughout the world; to bring about Order eternal for the good of all, to walk in the footsteps of the Empyrean, & transcend the caustic din of mortal fallibility. The Sunlit Path has been followed dutifully for centuries, e’er since the first Prophet was elucidated by the Lion’s portent of Order, and His grace touched the sunlit isles. Although most prominent within the Order of the Golden Lance, the philosophy Order bestowed unto Sheerok was woven into the fabric of the land, and its people, intrinsically; for the Lord of Sunlight demanded from the isle’s folk servitude alone - in fealty and faith was this asked, but never that Sheerok’s people would worship the Lion above the maker of all. The Aengul of Order, though sworn to safeguard creation as the maker’s direct hand and shield, is adamant in His insistence that his mantle is not placed before worship and reverence is paid to the Creator. Those who deem themselves adherents of the Sunlit Path are to dutifully abide by this decree, and worship only the Creator as the true king of all, the lord of creation and forger of our reality - for this is the TRUTH, irrefutable and ironclad in its certainty. So it is decreed, and has always been, that the Path of Sunlight is the only path to salvation for mortalkind; to refute the horrors and evils of the hungering maw, foul and profane in malefic and voidal taint. To guard oneself against the influences of mortal tyrants seeking to usurp the throne of all Creation, and proclaim mastery over the mortal realm, and all realms beyond - and to protect your fellow descendants from that which would scourge our land of all life, and strip mortal man of its sovereignty. The intricacies of the Light, the principia of the Sunlit Path, and the Golden Mandate are detailed within this tome - for all who come upon it to learn from, and hopefully, swear like all who have come before never to let the Sun set upon our people. The Principia Serving mainly as the core tenets of the Sunlit Path, the three Principles are the obligations and oaths one makes to themselves when they pledge themselves to the doctrines of the Lion. While every adherent varies in how strictly they apply these values to their day-to-day life, they remain crucial components of Xannic philosophy and worldview. I. Abstinence II. Sacrifice III. Sacrosanctum The Light Both literal and metaphorical, the Light may be interpreted as many a thing; the essence of goodness and divinity, the power of the High Heavens, or merely Virtue incarnate. It is on this first example that we shall focus - the Light not as divinity made manifest, but as philosophical stricture. Often held amongst the servants of the divines as the guiding hand towards a world free of foul and abhorrent taint, it is an ideal that all should strive towards, and give their all for. It is in every unsullied fibre of the world, not merely gestures of grand and awesome power; for it is not only great power that can drive back the coming dark, but the small doings of ordinary folk - mere acts of love, and charity, that combat the influence and whispers of Ruin. To give bread to the poor, to share a tender moment with kith and kin, or to take up arms in defense of the innocent against the will of the hungering maw - this, too, is the Light. It is a subtle influence, not presenting itself tangibly as the forces of Ruin often do, tempting mortals with its offers of power and grandiosity; The Light does not need such tactics, for the true and faithful know it to be with them in even the darkest pits and loneliest mountain peaks. The Light is Warmth. It is Love. It is Compassion, Mercy, and Virtue free of malice or ill-will. The Light is all one needs, to keep the darkness at bay for but a moment longer, be they bound by oath to an Aengul, lofty king, or lowly peasant. All may know the Light, if they but invite it into their hearts. The Golden Mandate The Mandate issued to all who swear fealty to the Lord of Sunlight is a simple thing, in premise; but in execution, more complex than even the most winding labyrinth. A single demand, made with the health of all mortalkind in mind, for the good of all that might fall beneath the sun’s warming rays - beneath the throne of creation itself, and the abjurer of all that is fel and profane. Do not let the Sun set. A single utterance, laden with the weight of the world upon it. To keep the Sun aloft is to strive for the re-establishment and maintenance of Order within the realm at large, no matter how big or small. To refute chaos in all quarters, until all is left within perfect and impermeable Order. Not order as mortal man may understand it in full, but primordial and divine Order within the planes. To silence the incessant ken of chaos, of demonkind and all that is foul, so that the descendants may reside in a world free of calamity. It is by the grace of the Lion that empyrean salvation will be achieved.

A Leal Wyrmstalker, and Herald of the Lion, would deeply frown as such a missive reached publication - making the rounds within the Underkingdom in which she dwelled, and circulating throughout the realm. "Two wars we are embroiled in, called by the Lion to stand against the Titan and the Dread Armadas of the south, and a 'Xannic' nation chooses to join a war against the realms of mortal men- for what?" She scoffed, shaking her head - the only companion to her ramblings being some impossibly pristine blade, awash in starmoon. "This violates our covenant on so many damned levels- to say nothing of falling prey to Ruin's machinations, and willingly indulging in them! What in the blazes are they thinking?!"

A Leal Wyrmstalker gives this notice the Xannic stamp of approval.

No... My ancient ally... He choked on his gogurt?!

[!] The ballots would be deposited by means of a clockwork shrike, singing a melodic song - a clockwork sun branded upon its chest. How strange that its signatory didn't do the deed themselves. ((Minecraft Name: Valannor) Name: Eavêlien Canathar Age: 170 Vote 1: Alaion Miravaris Vote 2: Alaion Miravaris

[!] Within and around the Silver City of Karinah’siol, leaflets would fall, delivered by great birds of snow-white plumage - scribed of silver inks, and wrought of scholar’s parchment, they seemed written by a stately hand. Maehr'sae hiylun'ehya The foundation of Mali’thill society - of our Silver City. Progress, and health. It was these two values that the doctrine of Larihei Lohmanih was built upon, that each brick of marble was laid in accordance with, and that our great people thrive upon. It is our Purity that has guided us, and has cradled us for so many years, even through trial and adversity. We are above the taint of the ‘ata, of those who would sully our blessed state of Silver, and cast aside the values of Larihei herself. We are mali’thill; Pure beyond reproach, as the blood that runs in our veins would so decree. In unity, we have stood tall, and stand we shall again… However, a problem has manifested - a parasite, seeking only to undermine the state. The streets, once white and candescent, now run red with the blood of Mali’thill. Silver has been tarnished, our Purity cast aside by the pretender Ivarielle. So it was that the Republic cast off the shackles of the Titan - Servant of the Betrayer himself, for his protection proved only to our bane- and yet, this claimant ‘Princess’ would invite the children of the Arch-Drakaar back into our homes, to feast upon our food and empty our coffers until left bare - for she is supported, and backed, by the Dragonkin. Those who swore to treaties against this scourge such as Amaesil Vuln’miruel and the Orenian state willingly aid and abet her, and her false claims upon our proud nation, going directly against the word of their treaties; she only threatens the State by the grace of ‘ata who only wish to see Silver undone ad infinitum. For if she is to take the yoke of the state in hand, what prosperity there is to be experienced shall be finite and temporary, as all ‘ata constructs are; a few Elven weeks of providence, perhaps months, before ruin is brought upon our people, and our great city - leaving us destitute and bereaved of Larihei's grace as we are left but a shell of a nation, after the Pretender and the 'ata have had their moment of glory. It is fitting that her folk walk in the Betrayer’s shadow, for though they speak much of trust, prosperity, and unity, it is by their own admission that they come only to deceive, harm, and lie to a people that had only ever wished our sacred values upon them. They do not come to fix Haelun’or, they come only to ruin us in a vain bid of self-importance, that their names might be praised for a blink of an eye in our lifetime before they are crushed into irrelevancy. Larihei Lohmanih, the progenitor of our Silver State, would rebuke these sins upon ‘thill decency, and suffer not the Draconic Pretender that seeks the perversion of all that is good and pure within our walls of elven-white. So it is that the voice of Silver, the voice of Purity, the voice of Reason, HER voice, calls out to all Mali’thill who still believe in el’maehr'sae hiylun'ehya of our proud people, our rich culture, and our boundless potential of the Arcane arts; Cast aside this tyrant, and the Golden Pools shall be reborn by my grace, and the will of Larihei’s people, within the walls of Karinah’siol. Cast aside the cowards, liars, and ael’mali that would see our glorious state undone. Trust in the guidance of those who would steer you unto the right path and set the state aright, and know that the Voice of Lohmanih lives on in her people, through the words of elMalauriran, and the progress & health of our nation.

A Leal Wyrmstalker blinked a few times as a courier delivered such news unto her person, her gauntleted fingers tepidly clasping the parchment - a look of disbelief on her face. "What the bloody hell do you mean, 'they're back'? I thought they'd gone into retirement- oh bollocks, 'tis the way of things. I just hope this war wraps up sooner rather than later, so we can all focus on the real threats at hand."

The Voice of Covenant resounded then in fear, and rejoiced with trembling. Shaking hands clasped the shovels haft, and so uttered he; "Leviathan wakes..."

"The end of an Era." Commented a peddler of medicinal wares, sat upon a stool in her shop. "Another shall come - but now, the world rejoices, both in fear, and in gladness."

A Leal Wyrmstalker raised a glass for the new Grand King of the Underrealms. Perhaps it was fortuitous, and a gift of the divine, that the newest leader of Urguan's sons came from a family of renowned dragonslayers?

FINALLY MYSTICISM SHALL BE WHOLE, FIXED, AND INTACT NOTHING CAN STOP THE BLACK CRUSADE NOW EXCEPT OUR OWN LAZINESS, DEPRESSION, AND BEAURACRACY

A Leal Wyrmstalker stared upon the artefact she bore - ironglass alight in azure static, teeming with power beyond reproach by even her kindred. A work of artifice not to be repeated for an aeon's passing. "Unity is Salvation. Salvation is our Liturgy. With our sacrifice, this world will be free of the shadow's taint - and the whispers of Ruin which gnaw at the minds of mortal men."

[!] The following document may only be found within Xannic strongholds across the realm, where’er they may be located. Wrought of fine parchment, hale and sturdy, it would be scribed of silvered inks - carrying with it a border of glowing blue, gleaming in the sunlight. Originally written by the Brotherhood of the Golden Lion, now inherited and adapted for modern times by the Order of the Golden Lion. Enshrined within this text are the Creeds of Old, from the times of Vailor over three hundred years ago - sacred oaths we all once took, dwindled until we were left with only six, stripping away much of the spirit of our duty and the depth behind the vows we uphold. Once more, however, are we held to our covenant - and yet again, the Creeds of the Wingless Lion are made known to us in totality. Likewise are the oaths of old revealed - those once taken by the lines of Cross and Windsor, of the Greenward and Seawind, and of the Seekers who ensured our continued survival. Let it be known that we are held to the standard of our forebears and the laws of our predecessor Order. Let the past never be forgotten - and our vows to remain upheld, in utmost servitude to the Lord of Sunlight. Unity is Salvation, Salvation is our Liturgy. The Sacred Creeds & Covenants of Xan To be adhered to by all of Xan’s servants. Creed of the Patron May Xan protect us And in turn we protect others Let him be our shield, So we may in turn be His sword, ridding this world of darkness. Creed of the Brothers He who stands with me shall be my brother. And so, may we carry the light of Xan into the darkness, swords in our hands and brothers at our side. Creed of the Lion As we give of ourselves to the Lion, The Lion gives of himself unto us. We swear these vows, clad in sunlight eternal, So that we may never again forget our covenant. Creed of the Realms As we serve Xan, we serve Order, not the men of law. Creed of the Light Into the darkness we humbly carry this torch. With its light, we banish corruption and fear, With its warmth we comfort the worn and weary With this gift we purify ourselves and others. The Oathed Creeds of the Order To be adhered to by all who are sworn into them upon their Sunlit Path by their Mentor or Teacher. This list may be expanded upon in the future, as additional credos are adopted. Creed of the Mentor Xan has allowed me this gift, so may I in turn give it to others, spreading the light and banishing the dark. The Creed that all who take upon the mantle of Mentor are sworn to, not to be confused with those gifted with the practice of Ordainment. It is their duty to find and train the next generation of Xan’s Chosen. Creed of the Hunter As the darkness encroaches into mortal lands, It is our duty to oppose it in all quarters. We carry a lonesome light into the endless abyss, to fight and die where none dare tread. The Oath taken by all Wyrmstalkers upon their ordination, harkening to the legacy of their namesake Apostle, and his sobriquet’s circumstances. Creed of the Guardian And so, may we carry the light of Xan into the darkness, swords in our hands and brothers at our side. One unbreakable shield against the coming darkness. One last blade, forged in defiance of fate. The Oath taken by all Vindicators upon their ordination, enshrined in the legacy of Marian Cross - the First Vindicator. Creed of the Seeker We guide the Lost, as Xan guides us. We lead in his name. A Vow taken by a select few, chosen to carry the torch of the Lion’s everflame until their final breath, to ensure the survival of the Order. An honored title, held only by those the Lion’s Pride place absolute trust and faith in. Creed of the Vestal Through the salvation of others we save ourselves. With faith in our hearts, We grant all the warmth of the Lion. The vow of the priestly folk of Xan’s servants, tasked with remediation and the spread of His doctrines and Sunlit Path.

[!] The following missive is made available only to the Paladins of Xan, particularly those unaffiliated with any established Order or Chapter. Please do not metagame its contents. Travelling kindred upon our Sunlit Path - Brothers in leal servitude to the Lord of Sunlight, hear this call to arms; The time to fulfill your oaths has come. So it was that we have received mandate from the heavens - from the Lion’s hand and most favored disciple, the Herald of the Lance, Hilan Athna. With the blessing of the Wingless Lion, he spoke to us of harrowing things; Ruin, and it’s servants, march upon our mortal plane. The Heavens cry out for a grand crusade - a crusade greater than all before it. The Lion calls for us all to unite under one banner under the Heavens to carry out our duties without delay, as brothers in arms and kindred spirits upon our Sunlit Path. Make haste to the mountains of Urguan’s sons, to renew your oaths and take up arms against the Dark! So it was spoken by the First that unity is to be our salvation against the forces of Ruin, and his lieutenants upon this plane, and indeed it shall. So long as we stand together, even the swelling darkness shall not survive our Light. Unity is Salvation, Salvation is our Liturgy. Tarathiel Asul’onn, Chaptermaster of the Order of the Golden Lion.

Succeed where I stopped trying to, my boy. Make Malch's Angry Boyz based.

It must have been the will of Xan that Crumena not go down with his ship that day - and thus escape the hell that is everyday life on Almaris. The Lord of Sunlight was truly a cruel being.

The Seeker’s Ark at the end of the Raid of Tor'Sjorvath, 1862 “Let them know the wrath of the Horned Lord, and the radiant fury of the Impassive Eye!” Guided by holy portent, the servants of the Sun and the furious Gladeguard of the Wilds gathered on the Ark. Battle was nigh - the tempest obscuring the sight of all in the harbor, the crew of the massive battleship straining their eyes to catch even the slightest hint of prey. They sought dragons, this night. Not one of them would have expected pirates of the Dark to be their foes. Long into the night and as the moon hung high, they fought, and they bled. Three galleons bombarded the Ark, and boarding party after boarding party was sent to seize command of the vessel. Five times attacked. Five times repelled. The Gladeguard of the Vale knew ballistae well, and the batteries upon the Ark were manned with deadly efficiency - the aim of ‘ame and the work of Dwedmar siege engines allowing them to butcher the first of the Galleons. They fired until they could fire no more, until their ballistae were rent asunder and the auxiliary bridge was a pile of rubble descending into the belowdecks, stifling the flames that had been set. And even then, they took the single remaining ballista on the deck, using it to fire soldier after soldier onto the vessel which was engaged in a deadly duel with the Queen’s Dawn Revenge, disrupting their operations. The Knights of the Golden Lion and Sunlit Spear were not idle during this time. Vindicators, heirs to Marian Cross’s legacy, conjured shield walls of auric mist upon the side of the mighty vessel as it danced in close quarters with its foes, blocking innumerable cannon shots and saving the metal beast from an early grave in the fathoms below - over eight thousand tons of steel, wood, and Xannic fury fighting back with tooth, nail, sword and shield for dear life. The Paladins took to repelling those sent to board, working in deadly tandem as the command was called; “Leave none alive!” Roared the Wyrmstalkers, taking to combat with fishman and pirate alike and driving them off with all the grace and wrath afforded to them by their mantle. In the end, the Seeker’s Ark sank to the waves below, saturated by fire and beyond the repair of even its dedicated teams conducting damage control. And even as it slipped below the waves, battle cries were heard, the Druii and Paladins nearly going down with the ship as they continued their rancorous hunt for blood - until eventually, they were forced to retreat, limping to shore on clumps of driftwood and damaged canoes. Even in defeat, they had found victory. Let it forever be known that the Ark broke before the will of mortal men ever did.

A Leal Wyrmstalker rests upon the shore, frowning as she observed the burning hulk through her spyglass - but as the memory of what it had endured rushed back to her, a smile crossed her face.

A Leal Wyrmstalker held within her hands the mandate of the heavens - Purpose, bestowed unto all of her kindred. She knelt before the shrine, dozens of candles lit around her to illuminate the sullen nox that fell across the world before the radiant dawn crested o'erhead. "O' Impassive Eye; would you guide our path this night?"