SteppeNomad

Once again, openly in the streets filled with refuse, but also garbage, the beautiful elves of the citystates laugh in agreeances. Sharing points from the missive with the invaders and kinslayers that hover around, hopping wordlessly in the city. 

"Oh dear Lliran, know these words and know them well. The PEOPLE. The TRUE people, not murderous daemonworshippers could never be enslaved. Though, amongst your numbers it's quite clear you take to it as natural as a beelot to the flower. ALL CITIZENS seek to decide their own fate. Not have it decided for them by shadowy cabal."

"

Yet again a Mali'thill plays his 'Aheral Kithara in the streets!

"Bring forth your puppet peoples, let them be known who has stolen the blood of our noble families; and who has taken forth great pains to exterminate the very citizenry they say they will govern! Know yourselves, slaves of worms! Know how you look as you bend."

"Ay' The Blessed Republic shall RISE. It is through the strengths of our brave citizens that we all rise to occasion! After all, we are ancient! We must NEVER forget! Our great privileges? WORTH protecting! The Citizens are tHaelun'or! We shall not be replaced, No Kings, No Tyrants!" shouts an anonymous elf from the group gathered in the forums

*Though the 'Peacekeepers' openly damage public property, their refuse is turned useful, Words painted on clay shards, easily found, left in street corners read as follows*

"Ye, ye subversive snelf, know we know where you are from, surprising I know, for who could forget the dreary tribe of fenn? With culture soaked in blood sacrifice to fiendish gods of cruel war. YE, ye subversive snelf, know one can sniff you out not for the clothes you bare or the color of your hair, but for the slavish way of speech and countenance! You BEND before princes as though they were IDOLS. You feel warm inside do you not? When you kill a brother for your master? For even in those forlorn armors and nameless guises you reek. Ye, ye subversive snelf, why is it those you wish to slay cling so hard to their ideals? Because we have some!"

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"Ye, ye! Tools of the sorority! To build the princedoms of others is to enslave yourself! You WILLINGLY Bend! To quote the valah. 'Whys'theou bendeth so?' Must be pleasurable! To know your mistresses take from you your very privileges! Though one can only hope such devout obedience rewards well. After all, the pockets of the usurper is lined with gold-a-plenty from the last nation she subverted. OH GREAT SUTICA, THE LOST LANDS OF OUR YOUTH. GONE, BUT NOT FORGOTTEN IN IN ANY UNSUNG DREAM. (Besides the dreams of the silver lubba, who personally profiteered from great Sutica's downfall, enraptured by the usurper[lovers?!]) Know all, know all. THEY are the ones who KILLED SUTICA. And they have addresses."

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"YE, ye forgotten ye downtrodden know ye know that I know. Ye seek not to earn the wealth, not to take it by the tip of your spear like sweet wine from the vine, but to instead resort to subversions and trickeries to achieve your ends. Know you are not king, but despot and dictator. You snuck into the walls of el'cihi'thillin like rats(mice) on a ship. You believe that to slay your opposition where they stand is fair and just when even approached for conversation? Know now your ways are forlorn, know now your ways are accursed. The letting of sacred blood is an act despised. So despised you forever shall be. Yeye 'Kin'slayers. Yeye Despots. Yeye Snelves."

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*Citizens brazen with blessing laugh openly at slavish snelves! Oh how they seethe at truth!*

A handsome sailor plays his lyre openly in the streets! Noticing the fennites seething over the various privileges and rights given to them the blessed citizens, and coping at how they must serve to build the kingdoms of others instead of their own. "Hear thee, slaves of worms! Though you expect your overwhelming force to be met by ours, you must first know that the blessed republicans are the blessed citizenry, and the blessed citizenry is the blessed Republic! Chide not the truth, for you all know it! You build not the kingdom of yourself, but that of another! You find yourself, with every turn showing truer and true your colors! Inducting tyrants? Bah! It's as if you try hiding you wish to ENSLAVE US! To bow before TYRANTS!"

A brazen elf, reading this missive polishes his leafbladed spear after 'removing' one of those barbarious elves from his beautiful citystate "'Lo, those newcomers, as willing to spill blood as lose it for their masters. How can it be such cuckheld elves would wish to be ruled over by betters instead of be the betters themselves? Why build the princedoms of others when you could advance your own position yourself? The folly of those outlanders, those 'ata, is they willingly bow before these villains and seek to bend. However, those who clad themselves in second skin of polished bronze and with their spike take sweet wine from the vine? Those great individuals, heroes, never abandon their wills and individuality. Something those nameless faceless Mali'ata would only understand on their deathbed. May those who stand against our democracy continue to name themselves. So they and their kind may be taken."

-Larihei Is Watching

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Muses of Larihei who give glory through song, come hither, tell of your sons and daughters and chant their praise. Through her mortal 'Thill are famed or unfamed, sung or unsung alike, as great Larihei wills. For easily she makes strong, and easily she brings the strong low; easily she humbles the proud and raises the obscure, and easily she straightens the crooked and blasts the proud,—Venerated, who thunders aloft and has his dwelling most high. Attend thou with eye and ear, and make judgements straight with righteousness. And, Lliran I would tell of true things.

o, after all, there was not one kind of Strife alone, but all over the world there are two. As for the one, a man would praise her when he came to understand her; but that one other, is one most full of blame, impure by design: and they are wholly different in nature. For one fosters evil war and battle, being cruel: her no man loves; but perforce, through the will of the deathless Daemonic gods, 'Ata pay harsh Strife her honor due. But the other is the elder daughter of tarnished night, and the son of brazen sky and polished silver who sits above and dwells in the aether, set her in the roots of the earth: and she is far kinder to men. She stirs up even the shiftless to toil; for a man grows eager to work when he considers his neighbor, a rich man who hastens to plough and plant and put his marbled house in good order; and neighbor vies with his neighbor as he hurries after wealth, envious of his privileges. This Strife is wholesome for men; and potter is angry with potter, and craftsman with craftsman, and beggar is jealous of beggar, and minstrel of minstrel. Lliran, lay up these things in your heart, and do not let that Strife who delights in mischief hold your heart back from work, while you peep and peer and listen to the wrangles of the court-house. Little concern has he with quarrels and courts who has not a year's victuals laid up betimes in his land far off, even that which the earth bears, Dimaethor's grain. When you have got plenty of that, and fine salt a blessing paid in full, you can raise disputes and strive to get another's goods. But, now that these truest of colors have been shown you shall have no second chance to deal so again: nay, let us settle our dispute here with true judgement which is of Larihei and is perfect. For we had already divided our inheritance, but you seized the greater share and carried it off, greatly swelling the glory of our bribe-swallowing lords who love to judge such a cause as this. Fools! They know not how much more the half is than the whole, nor what great advantage there is in mallow and silvered asphodel.

A weightlifting sailor hefts a large bag of sardines onto the docks. He looks upon this after seeing Ayliana flee the citystate.

"Huh! How could she transfer power that was not legitimately passed on by the beautiful citizenry? Perhaps she is right, a strong power should rise, but to the will of silver, not that of falsely claimed politicians! To openly deny our democracies while just previously saying they were enforced? A shame. True patriots would see this and turn their head.:

Another missive is posted below this one

PROGRESS is DEMOCRACY

AND DENIED DEMOCRACY WE HAVE BEEN. SO MANY TIMES in such a small period have we gone with this great struggle! This great emptiness! As my period for the ASCENT to role of Okarir'Mali has come to an end several times over, and the council has been STAGNANT to this plea, I will call forth the BLESSED POPULACE of El'cihi'thilin to vote. To cast my name upon a shard of pottery, upon a piece of parchment, upon the wind, whatever have you, and we shall call this ascent TRUE and PROPER. Based upon the facets of our naturalized DEMOCRACY! Not the whims of the Deepstate!

Now in this time of trouble, such our games will fit exceedingly! It MUST be a time to come TOGETHER, as comrades, as a city, and as patriots! May our fine democracy truly show herself in the wills of our BLESSED  Citizens who vote!

Ahernan Lliran!

Maehr'Sae Hiylun'Ehya!

-Pamphilos Callidora of The Hyptos

"I do not recognize this change and therefore I will not even heed it. I recommend all patriots who defend our most venerable institutions act the same." A toga'd elf actively crushes notices he finds.

A beautiful bronzed elf's face tilted with an upturned eyebrow. "So the conspiracy revealed plainly. Here it was, discussed in shadow for fear the deepstate may act upon those who went against their will, and now truly one seeks to turn about our most glorious democracy to a simple dictatorship. This is most plainly a sham. One that has been foretold by the ides. May those who cannot achieve great privilege no longer be HELD back by those who seek to pick amongst their own clique. To SUBVERT us."

Looking upon the missive as he carries heavy blocks and equipment to repair a busted gym, the athlete doesnt stop as he ponders openly. "Oh to disregard the actions of our most pure fellows, and to be torn from ancient tradition is a step most painful." He grits his teeth as he climbs the steps to that Iron Temple.

Krugmar. Every Krugmenistani is a hero who takes as he needs when he needs.

Hearing the news from abroad, a beautiful tanned sailor ponders. "Foreigners to the Elysian citystate took matters of Elysian and Krugmenistani diplomacy into their own hands? How can the Elysians accept Elvenesse's affronts to their sovereignty?" He considers the troubles of mainland politics before he shrugs, pushing the thoughts from his mind as he returns to bringing up nets of his catch for his beautiful comrades

"So another beautiful 'Thill driven away by happenstance beyond their control... Such is the fate of those who cannot see the benefit of those who worked in the shadows long to further their vision of the state, no matter the opposition." He shakes his head at the news of her stepping off the council seat. He Sighs, the sailor thinks about the use of disunity now more than ever

"Ah! What great selections! Our vast unending library carries forth our great traditions. I am particularly fond of the mythical section!" A philosopher carves some words into a slab of marble, a prose to bring forth for the poetry slam!

-Inspiration is always ready to strike

Oh Sweet, the fragrance in the air

The gentle sun, the splendid space

Life can be so fair;

In this most ancient sacred place

To all those of our blessed Haelun’or, and those abroad who may be reading

We stand together here in our sacred lands, not a song unsung, or a dream left undreampt by the beautiful Mali’thill; and each lives a life most blessed. Through these blessings, we can derive great inspirations for works of art, knowledge, and philosophy! From the stride of the Tahu’faesu iyul naere taliame’wehn, and the gentle buzzing of our loyal Beelots as they go from bright flower to bright flower on their endless toil, even the seemingly most mundane facet of our lives are lived in blessing, and a source of these inspirations which help guide us forth!

So those writers, aspiring or veteran, with their minds aflutter, and quills ready, are invited to express themselves in the most praised of ways. To fill countless tomes, scrolls, and clay tablets  through the expression of Poetry and writing most creative! An invitation of challenge. Our venerable institution, the Eternal Library, though filled with countless tomes, still yet she has space to share!

In the coming days there will be posted prompts for the additional inspirations to your written works, yet you may write of what strikes your fancy. Laments, Odes, Power Ballads, even the styles of the enlightened peoples of abroad are welcome, as each is a vessel for your own expression. 

 Rewards to the most well received shall take the form of gifts of Salt and Silver, and the great honor of a prominent display in our most venerable institutions!

Come and share your soul! We urge we forth to share greatly!

From The Tablet of Tilruir’Mali

-Beautiful elves sharing power ballads

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A handsome tanned sailor clad in a fine Himation calls out over the open forums!

FROM THE DESK OF THE GREAT OKARIR'TIR, A FINE OFFICE COMES THE FIRST PROMPT!

WRITING PROMPT: since today, or yesterday for some, marks the first day of spring, write a letter or a poem to spring! I am offering a reward of ten grams of fine Ibar'Thillin

The beautiful Elven Hoplites of Haelun'or raised their polished shields, hefted their spears, and acted. Bravely they strode forth to defend their citystate, and with great heroics, they tried as they could. Canonfire, speartosses, even jumping upon the beast's back to strike it with their Xiphos', all of this for little ground. At the urging terroristic command of the seven foot tall daemoness of a woman, clad in her armor of iron caused, the beast turned to turn about from it's flightpath to return in kind, and though the line of hoplites quickly broke to find another canon, when they reformed, they counted amongst their number... finding only the silver ancestor mask of one of theirs near the site of molten stone and metal... Denied even a beautiful corpse to be interred in Pyramid... What filled their minds was the realities of the worst death that could be imagined for a high elf... Immolation.

Rest well, Hero

Reading the missive taped to his door, a bronzed elf ponders. "So it is revealed the scheming of The Valwynn. True is she, when she speaks of progress unstifled, promoted by dusk and the goings about of those with intent... 'Lo! The sun as it rises over our silvered state. If only those of us knew what ideologies are held by them. Those who now call the council their seats. That it is only now after all such acts that were hidden are promoted by law, does it show who is rewarded." He thinks for a minute. Looking back to polish his greaves before he leaves. "Perhaps now that clandestine acts are more acceptable now in this age, can a measure of progress truly commence...

A Bright Missive is Posted Below!

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Those of our most gracious silvered motherland, upon which the sun never sets, and the oceans always provide. Our beautiful, and just citystate. I come before you to offer not just my own hand for this position, but my spirit as well! My Silver Soul, polished by our blessed ways and life seeks not just to act to progress forward, but for the benefit and blessing of all of us so we may truly represent our credence better!

Maehr'Sae Hiylun'Ehya!

Health And Progress!

It is by this creed, by this mantra and faith I seek to promote a great happenstance. Should I be elected for this most illustrious position, not only will the blessings of this eternal isle flood the streets, and joyous song singing, but with the support of the council, I, Pamphilos Callidora of the Hyptos, wish to call forth and declare the first 'Blessed Games!'

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A series of exciting 'Aheral games that serve not just to celebrate our freedoms, liberties, victories, but to entertain our beautiful populace; and also to help give those who seek to participate greater in our citystate, something to strive forward and aspire to! To become an honored athlete, a famous tactician, or great player of games! All offer fantastic fame and prizes.

To help me in such endeavors, I seek to appoint beautiful Mali'thill to positions such as our most illustrious Tavern so she may always be stocked with tea, and a company of organizers, so always there is something to look forwards to in our silvered state, and our efforts of promoting our ways to those outsiders and illustrious guests who come to be graced by our homelands well, and welcoming them with arms open! Truly blessed are we who are polished silver by the efforts of ourselves and our great unified peoples!

Know now, I seek to represent our great citystate well, and promote her culture, her ways for all to see! In such effort, I will be collecting not just the opinions and ideas of others, but will be actively seeking to implement them in our duties carried forth!

Know our ways, know our glories and our learning. May it be promoted, and progress secured! Evergrowing!

Ahernan, lliran

-Pamphilos Callidora Hyptos, Your Tilruir'Mali

Reading the missive once more, a toga'd elf hefts his eyebrow high. Noticing the names of all the new councilmembers... "Valwynn?" He suddenly drops his missive in shock. He affixes his laurel over his head and grimaces before he leaves his home. "Such a... 'close sisterly community' all suddenly together on the council..." He clears his throat, adjusting his himation over his shoulder

Looking curiously upon the names over the missive, a beautiful sailor returning from a fateful voyage acknowledges the choices in government. "While a step towards greater privileges for our blessed citizens, Still our representative democracy seems to still represent specific interest groups. I wish our most true guardians to represent US well! If only so we may return soon to our true democracies" 

He looked out towards the horizon, having thought his debate was quite good though! 

"Perhaps it's more of the domain of individual heroes to end this most twisted mind" a beautiful masked elf dons polished greaves. 

A great grin spreads across the Hyptos' face as he hears first his opponent. His hand upon his sharp jaw, audibly smirking in acknowledgement of her dumbfounded expression. He steps forward to announce his rebuttal 

"Yes." 

His gesture indicates as if he were saying 'need I say more?' and indeed. He need not. Elves HAVE been getting more beautiful around him. 

Satisfied with this exchange, and hearing the speech of the moderator, a great excitement creeps into his cheeks, it brightens his eyes and begins to speak again

"As it so happens such an occurrence is one I wish to explore more widely! After all, for many years has the tradition of our great Talonnii houses have drawn the eyes of less well-off Talonnii. To be able to fill suck manor homes with your own blood is a privilege not reserved for all less fortunate 'thill! 

To take the opportunity from other large or prominent Talonnii to inhabit them, instead to house the likes of other citizenry instead of your Talonnii detracts from the sanctity of such honors as a large home in our cihi. Leading to a long waiting list for such homes! One even my Talonnii suffers in.

However there is such opportunity for many of our citizenry when amongst such manner homes in the company of others of the smaller Talonnii. In acknowledgement of this, and In order to straighten such difficulties, I wish to re-etablish our most sacred communal and fraternal culture. If community housing and comradery is what our citizenry wishes? Then let us establish sorority once more. I have great faith in the BLESSED of our citizenry to not even conceive of breaking our sacred articles, and will therefore enter sacred oaths and initiation before admittance, and in such, I believe in keeping our communal housing to such establishments, to retain the sanctity and meaning of Talonnii house gatherings."

Beams the Hyptos! He scans about the crowd, looking for such characters that would be befitting of elven sorority homes 

Blinking, he accepts her spoken word. Mindful of his eyes drifting during the speech. 

"You speak truly when you speak of the desire for more. It is a feeling known deeply by not only I, but all in attendance. We all seek great progression forward! I plainly believe open comradeship and fluidity between the Okarir positions, great responsibilities they are, communications should be held by all! From taxation and payments, to the reclimation of this isle! For truly the beautification does not just mean to make what we have pretty, but effective! To reclaim it from foul void is but one step of an ever progressing quest for perfecting health!"

Grinning, he speaks, a simple turn of the hand continues. 

"You speak as if I am an unlearned, unproven 'Thill... Though I ask you and all in attendance! Was it not I, who returned to this island the love for our most ancient tradition of The Iron Temple? A place of philosophical learning; Where healthy form is sculpted ever-perfect and silver-tongue tempered. Not once, not twice, but THRICE have I returned with the great bounty of our most loyal Beelots. They who grant us many blessing, and it is I, who has already secured us valuable and productive territory in far off lands, and promoted the tradition of artisan crafts within the city-state, and spread desire for those crafts all through the realm, bringing in many visitors to our culture! Oh to share freely with our citizenry! Yet, humble as I am, I wish not to go on all day... You speak as I wish to neglect the wild expanses of our isle, when in truth... I wish to use it's resources to bring great wealth to our isle! From the tide pools which provide us with our silver salt, and our flora, fauna, and aquaculture, we derive great bounty. Through effective allocation of resource, ever increasing blessing is received!"