RyuTheCoolest

"Our great Ancestors, recalled in hymn and legends should have their names and deeds espoused so we too may take lesson from their example and know our place" An elf looks to a rack of bearded and mustachioed silver and bronze ancestor masks, each of legendary figures of prominent Talonnii. "Calith, Hyptos, Visaj, Sullas, Aldin, Elibar'acal... I wonder how different our times truly were, great Anaxagoras, or if it were just the vigor of your deeds and that of your friends..." He gulps in recollection all their ancestors probably knew eachother in that age too

Some young poet, heart torn for his lost love, grips in his hand his sturdy 'aheral flutes. Though his maliyu lost to tainted lands, his heart knows his first love. "Ay'Motherland. Sweet home of my ancestors..."

Heresay doesn't really add much especially if it's some random member of the horde. Most people have must also remember there was also a lot of attempts to get ahold of staff directly for question solving and comments, but little or even no responses, even jeers

"My... So often do the ill-wishes of the 'ata drift past my ears after reading these messages of unity and action for our state... Oh how much winging. So much jealousy from those mali'ata, knowing that they could never be pure, it pours off them, that tarnish, that they see not how it clots their very pores..." Lonesome is the youthful poet. For his Aulos lay unplayed and now his it is his blade that does the singing... "The tarnished, though tossed from our home, as kinslayers they were quite successful in despoiling themselves further... But even still they grasp at small straws seeking to find one that would besmearch high Haelun'or. Instead, failing to levy heavy points against us, the blessed pure isolationists. In their absence they have taken all the Azdrazi and spooks from the land" The youth sighs... Placing upon his face a bronze mask, donning his silver armor. "Though unsuccessful in their goals, that cursed Sorority turned Valwynn, before even that name was so besmerched so thoroughly to warrant yet another change..." That masked youth looks to a locket containing the engraved image of A'eollaja... His thumb run over the golden inlays which made her form "What had they truly accomplished besides the stifling of true progress? Besides the tarnishing of my Maliyu... Like they had so tainted many others, the lesser impures of that movement had managed to do one thing. WInd up foiled by a few lads in togas who are yet, purer than even their 'Most High'"