SteppeNomad

"OH to have stood on that bridge! To have been the first through the unlocked door! OH what glory is it to shield my lads with my own board! Hail the sacred and pure! Hail VICTORY! For it is Lady Victory, Larihei herself who has delivered unto us! Let us ne recall how it was the first silver cihi was won! For cruel spear and polished silver shield earns the place of glory!" A beautiful silvered hoplite smiles "And now, we shall deliver progress unto the landss! May we pave their roads, and build their bridges! For the sake of progress! And for the sake of health, may they abandon the ways most impure! Hail Larihei! Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya!"

"May this Lur know TRUE glory. I challenge him to any klomp he wants. For he does ne know the struggle we, who must maintain krugger privilege undergo. And for that, he shall fall, bent at the knee, and call me 'bub'mau'! For if he wishes to harrangue the blessed people, it shall be only to the impure!" A beautiful hoplite replies, throwing his bronze spear into the missive in the city square

"Oh great warriors! My purest ones! My LADS-APLENTY! March! March with me, for we shall ensure the foes of descendants are purged! Struck down from their place, with spear and blade! Oh how cruel it is! To allow the impure the right of existence!"

"Dear friends, be men now. Put courage into your hearts, and act honorable in the sight of your comrades in battle. When men act with honor, more are saved than are killed, but when they take flight, there is neither glory nor refuge." -The Son of Halkyone, when addressing The Great Horde. The day before them was already long, for the song of battle had been sung by lads and broddas alike, but long before then, had the son of Halkyone already gathered his spear and shield, to sharpen and polish respectively. In the time he had been spending there, around the Hyptos villa, it was Fair Haelun'or which had sung the call to war, and already had they mustered lines and lines of beautiful citizen soldiers, in panoplies of sacred silver. Indeed, this was to be a campaigning season, much like the last, which had seen victories in the east and the west. It was clear to him, the son of beautiful Iphigenia, what must next be done, for in the end, it would be by his wile and spike that once more, would he secure the togetherness of the great Pure Peoples. Depiction of The Silver Shields, Larihei's own personal warband, before the silver exodus from the father's kingdom. And indeed, togetherness would come! Though it took feasts, and song, and dance, and a direct battle-challenge against the biggest brudda there at the time, the Anax of Sulianpoli, that tanned sailor had managed to once more secure a noble alliance, for it was the words of wine and honey, that of glory and battle alongside the FIRST of the pure peoples to form the blessed Horde. That which had brought about so much power in the times before. For indeed, who was it that first came to the aid of the Pure Peoples, if not the brothers of the Holy Land, Krugmenistan itself! Upon laying low the champion of the broddas flat, all were eager to hear of the war to come, and the battle to be had. Those few who dissented to the idea, silenced when challenged by that wrestling mali'thilln! And so, the position was set, for when Larihei's servants came before the kruggers, they had already sought to see The Horde united for another great campaign. After all, they had known. It WAS the armies of Haelun'or, of silver and bronze, which had brought them the sought-after destruction of Elysium. It was Pamphilos who had brought them together, for that first great horde. Depiction of Lady Luthriel, most loyal to Larihei, in the maiden's most traditional panoply Indeed, how can it be unknown? That the might of the pure peoples is unmatched. In that time before, great Haelun'or had been betrayed. The shadowy sorority, the blasted Cabal which had sought to usurp the government, had sought to hand off the sacred cihi to the usurper princess, and her following of Fennitians and dragonmen. When all other nations gathered in support behind the usurper, it was by the effort of the Son of Halkyone, and the most noble patriots, who gathered the bronze masks of their patriotic ancestors, and formed that ladly band. By their own merit, they secured eternity, and great privilege by the tip of pointed spike. That by their deeds, they had shown the nobility and the purity of the silvered race, and as such, they built the Horde, partnered together, Blood Pharaoh, Sohaer, and Knög of the North. It was this rise of power, which stood valiantly before all who opposed. That one girly-voiced dwarf-king which sought to write his name on eternity, and those greedy cursed Valah of the realms of Men. They all faced the force which now stood behin the High-walled cihi, and which had brought victories in the west, and the east, and secured the fate of the eternal cihi, blesssed Balian, and of cursed Elysium. "Who are you to wrangle with kings and princesses, you alone?" Words of Ivarielle to Pamphilos, shortly before he arrived with the whole horde "Not a word of retreat. You'll never persuade me. It's not my nature to shrink from battle, cringe in fear with the fighting strength still steady in my chest. I shrink from mounting our chariot-- no retreat --on foot as I am, I'll meet them Mali-to-Mali. Larihei would never let me flinch!" -Pamphilos The Patriot when being told to flee the occupied Silver City Larihei of Victory giving her Blessing to Pamphilos on the Bridge, as he held it utterly In this age, to not let the past repeat itself, just as had been prescribed by the son of Halkyone, the council of the high-walled cihi had begun to ready the troops further, a great expansion of the forces of Sillumiran had been made. For after all, it was by the grace of Larihei and the loyalty of her Silver Shields, that she had taken the first silver cihi by tip of bronze spear. the Horde had been turned upon by a past ally. The men of Norland had sought to secure a victory by standing besides the Mali of The Vale, and yet in their arrogance, they had forgotten who had been their most ancient allies. The kruggers. The northern warrior-raiders stood besides the mali this day. They will fall besides them as well. Soon, the Lads of The Band, and the kruggers had begun to march forth to the place decided for battle. The bridge which crossed the River Hesthor from south to north. There, the archers of the wildwood would surely be ensconced. It was there they would make their stand, against the Pure Host. As the warriors of Krugmenistan rattled their spears and the Silvered of Haelun'or marched orderly, the lads stood side by side, their trained and exercised motions kept them next to one another as they too made way for the field of battle. The orders came from the battle's grand commander. Wise words. That we shall not partake in an archery engagement, as is instinct when two forces from rival elven citystates meet. Instead, we shall storm the bridge, and break apart their positions. Yet, as the lines of Mali'thilln readied, their shields and their bows to take position on the banks of the river, and goblinoid and urukhiim skirmishers ducked from cover to cover, it was clear the engagement could swing either way with such an open field of fire upon the invaders! But the lads, glanced between one another, and they knew the true value of staying to the mission. Atemu-ta and Adorellan An'asul, the two lads closest to him gripped their own javelins hard as they took position by the edge of the bridge, yet, courage in his heart, it was boisterous Pamphilos who burst from the lines and charged onto the bridge! Arrows whizzed, each impact from the wood elven longbows rang against his heavy shield, glancing off from its convex form, or embedding deep into the bronzesheeted shield. Pamphilos, holding firm the spear of Victory, which crackled with the electric energy of Larihei's own victories, was a tempting target. For as long as it lasted, he had drawn the fire of most of the enemy archers, so before the commander called the charge, the defenders of Malin had already begun to break under fire. Atemu-ta, and Adorellan continued forth, with their own javelins and darts to backup the son of Halkyone, using his shield as a wall from which to fire upon. With this support, Pamphilos on the bridge was able to march forwards under heavy fire!! Even to the point a defender came forth to meet him, only to be shot and struck back to his defensive line by the biting strike of the Spear of Victory! Which construction cut through his armour as if it was not there. It was at this sign of bravery and duty, that the grand commanders had recalled the initial plan, and reformed the ranks of fighters behind the bridge. It was at the blast of the warhorn did the next truth reveal itself. Pamphilos, first on the bridge, and first over the bridge, leading Grubnakh’s Charge! At the sound of the charge, and the rocking rumble of the feet of the warriors against the bridge, did Pamphilos launch into battle! Leaping DEEP into the enemy's formation! It was this disruption which showed the backs of the viking shield defenders to the advancing soldiers. And after their shield walls met, the defenders began a fighting retreat. And yet, still leading the chase, it was those three lads... Atemu striking down a defender with his khopesh, and the An'asul's blade catching that of the gladeguard, and yet did that spear of victory fly forwards! With the weight of Larihei's purity behind them, did the warriors of the whole host defeat and drive back the defenders! reduced to skirmishers in the woods, was it clear. With the glorious charge completed, and the warriors having stripped the fallen of their weapons and panoplies, it was clear the fate to come. Great Glory! ------------------------------------------ "When the mali leaps in the breach that way no one can blame or disobey him, no Mali'thilln, not when he spurs the troops and gives commands.. That is Larihei's way." -Sillumir Warrior to the Son of Halkyone "You, the bravest of all Mali'thilln--and one with the spine to battle Krug face-to-face!" -Krugs child to the Son "To be first over the bridge, the first to strike, and the last to leave. That is the sign of a loyal soldier, of a son of Larihei who embraces a worthy duty. What you did, was above and beyond the call. Hero of war." -Sillumiran to the Son

"Oh my cihi, my lads, my brothers! Always will I heft my spear and shield of polished bronze, always shall I gleam in the sun before you, and never will I shrink, when it is to further the glory of what is good and pure! Hail Larihei! For what is bravery if ne the completion of the noble duty! Hail Larihei! Bless the Eternal Cihi, and praise Purity!"

A beautiful fisherman gazes out over the sacred isles... before tossing his fishing net into the silvery sea. To bring up the blessings for his people

"Hail Larihei! May her light, and the blessed waters cleanse us of the impure!! Hail Larihei! For it is not we who shall have vengeance..." Devoted Pamphilos, high priest of purity clasped his hands within the waters below the great statue of Larihei of Victory.

"Eh? Valindra is still yet in our glorious cihi? I vote HER most needed of a bath! Hopefully in waters so pure they burn! Glad she has yet to allow her smells to harrange the perfumed breeze when it passes by me! May our separation of timezoness be praised!" A PURE High elf, not a kinslayer grins after reading of the great silver victories! "May the wicked be purged! May the impure be dunked in the purest pools, and emerge, immolated in burning flames! Hail Larihei! For it is not we, who shall have vengeance!" Grins a Hyptos! KEENLY aware of the dragon worshiper's dastardly plans to subvert the pure cihi!

"HAIL LADS, HAIL! The blessed Brothers, and the Sacred Cihi have rejoined! May our HORDE strike first, and strike firm!" A beautiful hoplite, a high elf with sculpted form, tanned by the ocean's sun grins a strong toothed smile, placing upon his head, the polished helm of bronze, and grasping in his hand, the Spear of Victory! "Ready your arms, lads! Polish your shields! For glory eternal shall be taken, ONCE more by the tip of a spike! After all! GREAT HAELUN'OR was the first, and the greatest member of the GREAT HORDE!" "HAIL PURITY! HAIL LADY LARIHEI!"

"Fool! Worshippers of worms! Your plight is foolish for the PURE ones have always risen! Hail the maiden! Ay'Larihei!" Beams a beautiful pure sunkissed hoplite. "Though, of course I can see why someone who has been cursed, surrendering their soul, may be jealous of beautiful, pure peoples!" Smiles the beautiful high elf!

Beautiful Pamphilos smiles! He hangs his head dress and puts aside his eyeliner, rejoining the lads in their spearforms upon the field of training! "Hail the pure path! For we have always held what is true! the who seek to subvert and ruin all of the realm shall ne hide, as the light shines in the sky and the waters run below! All the land will churn as they will find but spears when they seek shelter amongst the descendant men, lads, and it is we who shall sharpen those spears!" The beautiful hoplite clad in polished armour of blessed bronze smiles amongst the lads and lasses, sharing watered wine and sparring!

"Sulian! Our Blessed and peoples most sacred, truly all are to understand the enlightenment of the next age of attainment! Toss back the nets and rusty shackles of the age of ferrum! A much more advanced and progressive time has come! Welcome to the Bronze Age!" smiles Pamphilos! Widely appreciative for one of the lads actions. After all, we are individual heroes, and what our assembly ratifies, may it be done!

"Never will the bluster of lessers be taken serious! For it is these lubbites who sought to despoil the most ancient civilizations. It is these Lubbites who have ne sheared themselves from the sins of their past! May the greed of their master lead them down a foolish path to utmost ruin!" The Wanax spoke! Though he then thought. "Perhaps truly though, it is the gladiator pits which will purge some of the weakness" Smiles

Bright and beautiful is Pamphilos, Twin-sun of the Bronzeband, High-Priest of the pure path. He raises his crook before the assembled, guiding them to the waters of the river. "Soon, the milken waters will flow, and flow they shall, from the golden pool of source purity. Lady Hesthor, in her majesty and kindness, has given to us the tools! It is she who has given to us the might of her river, and with it we will carve through the land of the impures, may they know the cleansed path, purged of the unclean. In guiding her river, we are the ferriers of the purest kind!"

A recently returned Elven Hero gazes upon this missive with an turned up lip, finding it incredulous. After all, how can it be that so many of those of impure mind have come before us? Perhaps to call for lack of progress, but this?" "Oh what folly, for it is Blessed Seth, our great Maheral who stands tall. I would expect the recently returned, or perhaps the new oem'ii to ne recognize the recent history of the past hundred or so years. Seth has proven more often than I can recall that it is he who is fit for Maheral! After all, we canne blame him for the allowance of the impure into el'cihi, for it was done when he was absent. To assuage the fears of others, we must recall it is ne we who shall take our vengeance upon the impure. Hail Larihei! Hail the voice of the prophetess! For her vision must be carried forth."

"Could it be? The Acal'anti have returned? Though their ships are ne of painted sails, and I see ne cihis of gold... We shall see if the dream of lost Acal'anti ring true. Sleeping prophet! Bring us your vision! May these, champions of Ankruz know the mystery well!" The piratical elven hoplite awaits on his caravel with the lads, just in case!

Pamphilos smiles! Though in the distant high elven colonies the loyal silver elf toils in the name of his bright society, he takes time out of his day to offer words of brilliance out towards the isles of the blessed. "Great progress can be made, when the one who takes into their hand, the rod of power, and ring of totality. May FINE Kolvar, elevated in his time, show to the blessed folk, what is real! Oh, to follow the politic of the great race, even so far from the motherland reminds me of home." He sighs. a placid smile upon his face. He spends most days near the aviary, for the time that dove returns to him baring word of his return

Pamphilos received some of his cousins mail by mistake, but he read it anyways as they were delivered to the walls of Krugmenistan "My kin, my sacred and blessed kin... Worthy of only the highest. Once more do they seek to engage in the most well respected tradition of the blessed race... Our ancient practice, dialogue and debate. I would seek but to only add my pure philosophy, as I have written in my tomes, in such worthy discussion as the purity of red hair, and the nature of emotional outbursts... Having been on the receiving end of such beastly outbursts, I am in a bit of a fine position to call upon it. For in such tense situations, it was ne I who had lost composure, but the likes of Valazaer and the similarly and currently named impures from such situation. One can only imagine what rapture must overtake someone to throw fireballs in Larihei's sacred Temple of Law!" He thought back upon the memory, somewhat whispily. It has been dozens of years since that time... He sighs. Though in his thoughtful moment, a dreary cloud came over the normally sunny elf. His stoic practice unable to fully contain his countenance. Or perhaps it was he who expressed his truer feelings. "Oh Haelun'or! My grateful mother. How long has it been since I have gazed upon your resplendent beauty? How long has it been, since my ears were graced by the echoes of debate off your forums columns. How long has it been, since I have been able to embrace my kin, my cousins, my neighbors and my beloved maheral? How long, dear Mother. How long must I be apart from you? Truly. To be away from dear Haelun'or is to be absent the embrace of my very own haelun... Long do I, for those heady days of comradeship, of those beautiful sunblessed folk, whos blessed blood know not the life of toil, or of war, and in the cantour of the lyre and maidensong singing... My beautiful people of the silver isles. Long do I sing your praises. Long do I, to share once more, in the depths of the Blessed Life. To share a beaker of wine and water, and to taste the sweetest honey. Silver Mother... Hold your son in comfort. He weeps... Longing for the love of his blessed mother..." Longingly does Pamphilos gaze into the postcard given to him. A small memento of those heady days, and of the sacred lands. Holding it close, he longs towards the isle, as the sun bathes the mount in its silvery golds.

"It has been long since I have heard my mali'thilln kin dare speak of the bodily health, in relation to Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya. Most 'Tower-Elves' those who care ne for their health, often interpret the saying Health and Progress in a very liberal sense..." He confirms with a nod, the philosopher strokes his hyptosian beard. "Great kin, blessed and true. By the very nature of our silver souls, we are blessed, we may raise ourselves high and may, as any moment arises, be able to take in, calculate, and react purely in every moment. From moment to moment, the aware Mali'thilln may act properly and purely without suppression of emotions, but acting purely in line with them upon their very being. We are pure beings, peak of creation. Our souls are manyfaceted, and because of that, for as long as an individual blessed elf maintains the Pure Covenant undertaken by our progenitors, then we will forever be blessed, as the Prophetess had spoken. She, the pure, will be the font from which the source pours. We are beings of emotion, and to suppress our pure existence is ne the same as acting, moment to moment, in the purest light"

The Heavy Stone Sat There, Before the Bonfire The high priest gazed upon the shrine and he could not bare weep, and drip his pure tears into the tainted waters of the shrine. With not but his crook, he climbed the great mount, and brought forth the stone carrying this message. His words. "COME FORTH! SONS, DAUGHTERS OF THE SOURCE! COME FORTH! GATHER AND SEEK! BRING FORTH YOUR WORTHY, FOR WE MUST ANSWER!" Those FOES of Scorthuz MOST HIGH, Source Refined, The Purifier, The Great Waters, The Endless Font, in their hubris dare strike upon the most righteous. As the waters of the sea crash the heavy stone, or the wave carves sheer the face of the mountain, we must break upon the enemies of the PURE. Do not FALTER from your ways, Knowers of what is True, What is pure cannot be tainted, as what is tainted is washed pure. Gadhm, High-Goblin philosopher had much warning for such rashness by those who seek The End. For the pure wave would wash away filth like so much mud from a statue of polished white stone." Words of The Shining One, Son of The Sun, High-Priest of Scorthuz, Priest of Hesthor, Seer of Pure Paths THOSE WHO BREAK THE PURE COVENANT ARE TO BE WASHED IN PURIFYING WATERS THOSE WHO DEFILE WHAT IS PURE SHALL BE PUT TO THE PURIFYING FLAME THOSE WHO SEEK PURITY, WILL BE WELCOMED, WASHED, MARKED, AND GIVEN THE PURE PATH, AND CLEANSED AGAIN ______________________________________________ DEFILER, COME FORTH, WILL YOU TAKE THE WATER, OR THE FIRE, OR WILL YOU COWER BEFORE THE PUREST HERD MAY THE DEFILER KNOW PURITY

Hyptos Long gone are those days of the great Exodus, when the chosen families followed the prophetess out of the old woods, and built the first walls of the first city, yet even before that tale, there had always been those loyal to the great maiden Larihei and her beliefs. Amongst the loyal of the silver brotherhood who had set out with her to colonize the great world, was Aryalas, bearer of the silver shield and fine commander in the struggles that came. A beautiful elf of vast energy and a philosophical mind, who would later come to take lands for the Blessed Race from those lessers who us they scorned, by tip of cruel spike. Be that a pen, or edge of polished spear. He would be known as ‘Lord of The Assembly’. Anaxagoras, first of the Hyptos. Since ancient times there have always been the beautiful Sun-kissed sailors of island colonies of the Mali'aheral, Sailing with great ease from land to land with their impressive ships and painted sails. Their lifestyle, one of abundance and plenty leads the Mali'thill of The Hyptos more free time to pursue their personal passions. Glorious illuminating art of all sorts, musics and skills. Everything of the higher-art is seen as something that can be perfected and improved. From body and mind and their relationship to that ocean, and plying of their natural arts of life and philosophy to which the Mali'thill of the Hyptos are well known. Through great Odyssey the Hyptos tell they gain inspiration, and through these inspirations, they are able to trace mythic ancestry to the greatest heroes in the depths of time Physical Traits and Personality Blonde and Beautiful are most Hyptos, with eyes of bronzes, blues and greens, like the colors of seafoam, the sea and sky, and the sun. Most men, and many women of the Hyptos are kissed by the sun, from spending their lives in open air buildings or out below in their moderate climates and delightful beaches. They almost universally are well built and shapely, as it is seen as beautiful to perfect your body. Their diets of seafood and milk and legumes give them strong teeth and healthy complexion. Their hair tends to be from the lighter shades of blonde to white, to bronzed blonde Hyptos are nearly universally joyful carefree people. Completely secure in their beauty and growing perfections, they see much beauty in the world, and seek to make it more beautiful. Be it through arts, poetries and epics, or the power of their self! Well versed in those ancient perceptions of purity as laid by the prophetess, Their dress and toga goes to accentuate their forms, and none feel shame in their form which is in effort of being maintained and sculpted. It is better to be wise and strong than one or the other. They retain these cultures from the ancient times as the Hyptos praise the examples of their ancestors and in following the mythic legends, one becomes like them! Hail Larihei and those days most ancient! Hail the ancestors and the great ones before! May our deeds be known to the great legend! Recent History Hyptos has once again risen to prominence after a number of the sons of colonists arrived from the silvered colonies abroad, and quickly they brought about a wealth of song and poetry and vitality to an otherwise slowly decaying citystate. Though great Haelun'or remained high and mighty even in this short period of decline, it was brought about by pressure from outside, and insurrection brewing from within. A conspiracy noted by a young poet, where a cursed sorority sought to rise and take power unjustly to give to their conspirators abroad. Knowing the climate required careful civility, the Hyptos, like their ancestor in those ages before the exodus, met with the truly pure in their sacred baths in secret, where they may debate action amongst the other truly loyal of the great Tallonnii, Calith, Sullas, An'asul, Miraviras, and from the youthful vital elves of this generation, together they put up a great and firm resistance, even when all the forces of the mainland came to tear down the walls of High-Walled Haelun'or, they rose as great lads! Loyal to one another! Through stalwart activism, and the pursuit of great privilege in lands abroad, the Hyptos were able to secure a great allegence for Haelun'or. Forming the first ever Great Horde, amongst their newfound allies, the Men of Norland, and the Steppe, and the Holy Lands of Krugmenistan. It was in this age of friendship and power projected by the horde, Haelun'or dispatched the lads to go forth and create an embassy, like the ancestors most pure before, Pamphilos of the Hyptos, along with Edgars An'asul, Elarhil Sullas, Valazaer Calith, and Luthriel Xenophon, had founded a colony at that age. During the defense of the high walled cihi, the Hyptos served important roles as citizen soldiers, hoplites of the Sillumiran, ensuring the peace even with the occupiers, as fishermen proteting supplylines, and as patriots, protesting in the streets. Their action and demonstrations of loyalty to all that is silver had been enough to land Hyptos into good standing as Ahtalonnii when the capital of Haelun'or switched to one of her colonies in the southern lands. It was from there, that many more hyptos from abroad had begun to flock. Back to the motherland which had spawned them and the Blessed Race. In the modern age, Hyptos dwells yet still in the great Motherland, individuals seeking to increase their privilege and standing, and therefore add to the kleos of their talonnii

"What can one say, of one slain by the twin horns of dominance and fury? Oh Rune. Your beauty unmatched. May you gaze upon us from larihei's celestial cihi. May you be spared the fate of those men of Xan, consumed to fuel their demiurge. Hail Rune! Hail! Your deeds unforgotten!"

"HAIL The PROPHETESS! Hail The Bringer of Purity! Hail! Larihei, Lady of Silver! Our Maid most PURE!" Calls Devoted Pamphilos, a lad most close to such a plight as described here. "Our Kin will know truly of the blessings, once what mars them is polished free. We are silver, incorruptible. Yet we must routinely be polished, so tarnish may be made gleaming once more." "Return us! The Most Privileged! To that sacred place! Hail Larihei! Hail Haelun'or! Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya!"

*The ancient Wizardking rode his deathbarge over the river of souls. Having defeated the Lunar Sorcererking, and once more parlayed with death, he returned... The stolen gravel infused with the soulstuff of countless bugmen halfsoul slaves. "Long eternal is DU-LOC! Long eternal reign the Pharaoh! Our Cabal knows only the tightest wizbiz..."

Beautiful Lads March in procession, tanned from the desert sun. Hail, that sun, that great feathery serpent, and the grand lady of the purest. Hail the machines of war, and curse the tarnished, may they drown in her waters, pierced by her arrows, burned by his light. The lad strokes his beard and dons his head dress. Applying his eyeliner. "Hail Heka!"