Bircalin

Posts his own letter to the other multitude, in elegant handwriting. "The Noladrim is not a 'guild' and it would be unwise to regard it as such. It is Malinor's official military and uphold it's laws, enacting a swift punishment upon those that seek to and openly disobey them. The Golden Thorns and their objective have been recognised, and it is to be made clear that they are no more than a rogue band of freelancers unless officially announced otherwise by the High Council. If these recruitment operations continue and any more 'recruits' are to be taken-in, there will be severe consequences as it a blatant act of defiance against Malinor. I personally hope that your gaggle of adventurers find solace elsewhere, should you disagree with the reasoning of these actions as you will comfortably find yourselves in deep trouble. I will reiterate, so as to make it clear to the Golden Thorn and it's associates that the Noladrim are Malinor's primary force, and will uphold their duty as peacekeepers."

(( The Sentinels will all start as recruits, should they even be accepted as that. They will undergo the same process as any Elf would. Also note that even becoming a recruit isn't certain. Nevertheless, we hope to see you soon!

The elegant birds playing on the canopy of Malinor's trees chirped rhythmically to one another as they danced overhead, oblivious to whatever dangers lurked below. But tonight, as was common in Malinor, there was no danger, simply a natural bliss around the lake in which the dock was centered and crowds gathered to commute. Not five minutes away from the dock, a tall, armoured Elf struggles to keep up with a prancing and skipping bundle of clothing no higher than his knees. Sophia had been strolling along on Bircalin's shoulders when she'd realised her "baa" was missing, forcing the two to return back the way they came. Finally, Sophia noticed the unnaturally strong shade of green amongst the grass and snatched her baa up without hesitation. Almost instantaneously, Elene arrived, having come from further out of Malinor. She took up Sophia in her arms and the two exchanged a loving embrace. Brushing Sophia's hair from her eyes, a strange aura of possessiveness clung to Elene, though Bircalin hadn't the perceptiveness to notice it initially. The two held the briefest of conversations before Elene continued on her way down the path with Sophia, ending with a natural "Thank you for looking after her.", already having made her way halfway down the path. Little had Bircalin known what thoughts dwelled within Elene's troubled conscience, little had Bircalin to offer in reconciliation for her loss. How little did he know.

I'm not sure about using Telperion. I'm not necessarily oppossd to it, but it seems iffy.

A daffodil arrives to Huwel, bearing a small note. "Come to Malinor, and you may begin." To Allison, the sapling of a birch tree is delivered, a promise of new life. A note is also attached. "Although it brings me regret to do so, I must decline your entry into our Order. My reasoning is that you are simply too young to experience what would await you. Live your life, and make the most of it whilst you are young. Then perhaps, when you have grown, we may speak once more. Good hunting, Allison."

Bircalin sits with his head buried in his hands. The moving of the nations shook the flow of The Order, sending routines into a frenzy of chaos. Alignments had changed, and he began to lose touch of what was occurring behind Oren's walls. He couldn't procrastinate much longer. The time had come for action. The leaves and vines that so commonly fell upon the shoulders of Malinor's people hung like a pungent stench over Bircalin, swaying to and fro carelessly. He sat planted on the damp, coarse gravel, unmoved from the condition of his now stained robes as he contemplated his next move like a sick board game revolving around life itself. 'Why did Hawk have to leave so damn abruptly?' He thought to himself. Such minor and cynical thoughts had become a part of daily life now, pushing Bircalin's sanity to it's limits as they bore deeper and darker into his conscience, invading every crack and crevice of his mind with visions of doubt and darkness. She was there again. He could feel her presence aching in his skull, coursing through the humid blood in his veins. There was no arguing that the voices he heard were simply his imagination, but no matter how hard he tried to convince himself, she felt all too real. "I'm doing the best I can...This is not what I had planned whatsoever. I need to reply to the applications sent-in, perhaps then I will regain some level of tolerance, having completed one of my duties." The Elves that inhabited the overgrown, luscious green forests of New Malinor bore different response to Bircalin and his mindless muttering as they passed. Most simply delivered a pitiful sigh, shaking their heads and sharply murmuring patronising words beneath their breath as they passed. Others, who recognised Bircalin, rested a comforting hand on his shoulder, briefly checking that he was at least responsive before also moving on. 'Why do these people insist on removing all memory of how they'd come so close to losing everything they have...They can't truly think this is over, surely? If nobody is going to take initiative and protect these people for when the time comes, then I will. The Order, will.' With that final mental-note posted in his mind, he rose to his feet, feeling the dank, steamy air sink into his cheeks. His seemingly soulless eyes briefly scanned the surroundings before his brain sent word to his feet 'Get going, we've got work to do.' (( Will be responding to applications once I have returned from school today. I'm sorry for the delay, everyone. If you are no-longer interested in applying, send me a PM and we can arrange something. All others, feel free to apply. Applications are still open and waiting!))

Larael (Lar-ey-el / La-ray-ul)