I shudder at the thought of Malin seeing us now in our shattered, broken state. The eldest subservient to the youngest. It’s quite fitting of the irony of our situation. Every time I think of the King of Oren with elven subjects, I cannot help but let a bitter chuckle escape my tired lips. Then, invariably, I sigh, as if I have become the sigh, the long, painful sigh of history. It all weighs down on my terribly, as I have much to atone for, as do you.
Some of you may wonder how things decayed this far, ignorant of the choices made by those past and present, and how they contributed to our race’s fall. I, unfortunately, am not as blissfully ignorant as you. It began long ago, when exactly could be debated. I’m quite partial to the Incineration of Laurelin marking the start of our most painful era, but it could possibly have been earlier, with the election of High Princess Indelwehn or the attack on Kal’Bryst. Regardless, the elves suffered a mortal wound when the ancient trees of Laurelin crackled under the drakes’ fire, and we have been bleeding ever since. I was a Prince of Malinor then, as I am now, though the title certainly bears a different, more sullen weight than it did during the Golden Age of Aegis.
I was there on the shores of Asulon, a refugee from the cataclysmic destruction of our mother Aegis. Malinor was in total shambles, and we few high elves that had survived Iblees’ rage discovered the college at Haelun’or. It was long abandoned, its inhabitants killed off. We starved plenty those first years, threatened by dull, aching terror of empty stomachs. We were desperate to survive then, and as the Mori’Quessir appeared from their cavernous sanctuary to drive us to the sea, we built strong, thick walls. Originally, we had a small merchant district where any could live, but Dio Astore had another vision for our City-State. He convinced the citizenry that Malinor’s day was past and that Haelun’or needed to strike her own path, and though I disagreed, I had invested too much in my new home to leave immediately. I was traumatized by the destruction of the Jewel of Malinor, and I regret not doing something, anything, to put to stop the madness that consumed Haelun’or from within. Those who are responsible are many: Dio Astore and Ellir’siol at first, then after the coup by Nelecar and his expulsion, Kalenz and Delonna, and the tricky logician Lucion’Sullas, along with several others who pushed the City-State further and further towards “purity.” It was a corruption of the High Elves’ very souls, and this same corruption drives their insanity to this day.
I left before Nelecar’s reign of terror, of which the Mali’Aheral nary speak, and rejoined the High Elves in Elysium. There were still moderates among them then, and the difficult circumstances of Elysium brought the elves back together for a time. Certain members of the Mali’Aheral had other plans, however, and permanently shattered our relations with the Dwarves of Urguan, who had given us refuge, by stealing a Golemancy Anvil, one of the dwarves’ most prized possessions. Kalenz was one of those responsible, and though he alone does not share the blame, his intent was to destabilized Malinor, and it worked. During the panic caused by the breaking off of diplomatic relations with the dwarves and the threat of invasion by Oren, the sojourning High Prince Bravepaw was removed from office and replaced by a Mali’Aheral, Kolyat. He and Lucion joined the High Council, and thus would begin the eternally painful drawn out End of Malinor.
Those of us in the government under Kolyat struggled in vain against his dictatorial tendencies, and many of us were forced to flee Malinor for our lives. I sought refuge with House Valois in Salvus, but others were not so fortunate. I began a campaign of letters against Kolyat, and eventually, through the effort of many brave elves, he was pressured into resigning and departing for distant shores. I returned to Malinor to publish my newspaper, the Flagship, but it had become apparent that things had radically changed in my absence. The military had been allowed to rot away to almost nothing, and the nation was broke. The White Rose was preying on elven civilians outside the Capital, and there was little we could do to stop this. I was brought back on as Treasurer at this time, but it was increasingly clear that those of us left in Malinor were fighting against entropy. The Scourge was eating at our territory from the North, and the humans went through cycles of chaos and conquest that destabilized all the nations. We rekindled our alliance with the Uruks for a time, but mistrust and miscommunications combined with very poor decisions in Malinor lead to the collapse of relations with them. Eventually, Titania Hawkson was elevated to High Princess, and though she worked tirelessly for Malinor, little could be done prevent the coming collapse. I now see that it was inevitable, from the time that Kalenz and the Silver State of Haelun’or struck an insidious plot with the Emperor of Oren to usurp Malinor for his own benefit.
Through Haelun’or at this time, it continued to develop in isolation, its more unflattering policies of culling impures taking shape deliberately under Kalenz, who invariably would win election to whatever office he sought. Some attempted to moderate Haelun’or, but the Mali’Aheral in their blind bigotry were complacent in the genocide being carried out under their preferred ruler. In my view, all of the citizens of Haelun’or are guilty of the genocide against their fellow elves, and they should all be punished without mercy, drawn without quarter given, less their sickness reemerge in the next generation. There is no way for the Mali’Aheral to find redemption, in this plane or the next.
I know now that the leaders of the Conclave, primarily the Knight Lion(also known as Prince Darius) and the fool Kalameet were unwitting tools of Kalenz and the Emperor. In the place of Malinor, which they betrayed at the first opportunity, they erected a corrupt and malevolent state that terrorized all elves. It masqueraded as a Republic, but none were fooled. Power was controlled by an elite that had taken it upon themselves to fill their pockets with plunder from the elves, and they set about it with abandon. They shattered the elven identity completely, and their rule became so intolerable that the wood and dark elves, in their desperation, turned to Haelun’or to deliver them. The crimes committed by the so called leaders of the two subraces are understandable if not forgivable, as collaboration with the enemy is the highest and most insidious of crimes. They, including Artimec, Phaedrus, and Dak’ir, turned over dozens of so called “impures” in order to gain a pittance in terms of special treatment and protection. The rights of the elves living in Haelun’or were routinely trampled on in the name of order and security, and the new united elven nation, if you could really call it that, did not last long. Kalenz abused his power over the lives of those beneath him to make them glorified subjects, and stole from the elves the one thing we had left, our dignity. The fractures and splinters never ceased or disappeared, though Kalenz campaigned vigorously to unite all the elves under his fascist state. Most were powerless to resist, as any who did were terrorized by High Elven death squads that were dispatched throughout The Fringe and Thales. Those within Haelun’or, the pure few who were lucky enough to be born with fair skin and platinum hair were given privileged lives while those elves that sought refuge with Haelun’or were needlessly crowded into ghettos. Invariably, whenever the Descendants were forced to move due to some cataclysm or another, the Mali’Aheral would conscript help from their so called cousins until their walls were built and roofs secured, leaving the mali’ame and mali’ker outside the walls, easy to be preyed upon by raiding orcs and humans. Many elves needlessly died to orcish axes and human blades because of the Mali’Aheral’s treachery, and for this still some clung to the mali’aheral as the true leaders of the elves. It mattered not the wretched poverty and despair our people, my people lived in. Malinor had been bad and corrupt and evil and this was better. The willful ignorance and treachery of some of the mali’ame and mali’ker doomed the rest of subservience and indignity.
Now, the mali’aheral’s madness has brought both ruin and salvation onto the elven people. The humans of Oren have delivered you from your despair at the hands of Mali’Aheral and those that collaborated with them. Yes, Malin has forsaken us all. His grace is no longer with us, and we are but shadows of our former selves, pathetic imitations of what a real elf once was. Perhaps there is still room in my heart to forgive those that brought us here, who committed heinous crimes for their own temporary benefit at the expense of our people. Look around you fools, at the lost generations who have abandoned you. See you any left from the days when High Prince Native gracefully ruled from the shade of the ancient forests of Laurelin? The noble families and humble miners of Ravenhold, the brave homesteaders of Serpent’s Ridge? Who among you fought in the North against the great Undead invasion, fighting and dying for our brothers and sisters in Oren and beyond? Who among you witnessed the Sages fall to the Undead hordes, those who sacrificed themselves so you could be here today? We are disgraces to their memory, and all the elves should be ashamed that they have been bystanders as our once great people fell into a deep, dark pit, left to suffocate in a brutal brew of ignorance and bigotry. If Malin were still with us today, he could not help but turn away from our ugliness, and we are unworthy of the love he has for all his children. I know many of you will pay me no heed, but we are all responsible for what happened here, and we all have sins we must atone for. Go now and remember how you destroyed a once great people, and serve your new masters, as they are truly superior to us.
Ebs Telrunya,
Last Prince of Malinor