Mithradites

Maheral Lucion Sullas sits at the back of the procession, and looks around himself quizzically at the shocked and confused faces on the gathered citizens. He leans back on his chair, and comments beneath his breath. "They asked Kalenz Uradir, the least subtle Mali'aheral in all of the land, to lead a wedding. And yet they are shocked by the outcome?"

"Why does this Mali'ker always refer to us as forms of sugary toppings? I am confused and concerned to be referred to as "honey" on a regular basis."

Okarir'tanya: I find none of the applicants to be sufficiently worthy of this position. I will abstain in this instance. Okarir'tir: Mr Thurdan's steadfastness in his duties to the Sillumir have earned him my vote for this position. -L. Sullas

I will drill the teeth of the next person who shows support for Ber'lin. >:I Anyway, I rather like "Y'okarn." It's pleasant!

The accepted members of the Haelun'or Scientific Consortium receive a letter quite unexpectedly outside of their tents. Not that finding tent-mail was a particularly odd venture, an individual having found paper and ink in such little time obviously was. Were they to open the letter, it would read as thus-- To my venerated associates. During the recent arrival to these new lands, I have deemed it an excellent opportunity to send out queries of interest to my new colleagues on the creation of a vessel to study the effects of submersible objects. My previous attempt (the diving 'bell') was successful in that it was capable of diving to the depths of the lake in Lin'evaral. That said, I nearly suffocated in the attempt, and through thorough study during our time within the Tomb research facility, I had managed to divulge a theory behind this issue. Air, that which we breathe, is a finite and tangible substance, that can be compressed and 'stored' much like contemporary physical objects. Though perhaps this may seem obvious to you, lliran, from merely standing in the breeze. Myself, I have never dedicated much thought to such mundane things before. However, as I have spoken myself "Often it is that the things of which we think little become far more fascinating then that which we study for decades." Obviously, any future craft would require a method by which to transplant additional air into the vessel. Original designs based on fire-stokers proved to be far too inefficient for use, and thus a far more useful and reliable machine has since been created. The "air-pump" focuses on pushing the air within a smoothly-bored cylindrical container. Without any gaps, the air cannot escape, and is moved in the direction desired. Though, the method by which to transplant the air into the vessel itself while submerged is still not entirely clear. However, I wish to garner your aid in the construction of this new vessel in the near future. Though I know many of our resources must go towards the construction of the city, I beg that spare some wood, stone, and perhaps some metals towards my latest mechanism. But only if it can truly be spared. Many regards, etc etc, L. Sullas of the Consortium

Dear Mr Almeki. I understand that you are, in fact, quite knowledgeable in the marvels of air pressures. This is something I too take great interest in (as you will soon discover, I am sure). More scholarly entrepreneurs like ourselves are often welcome within our ranks. Regards etc etc, L. Sullas

Once again, Lucion takes hold of another bundle of applications, and places them carefully on his desk. After perusing each one over a cup of herbal tea, he scribes a letter to each individual, and sends it off with an increasingly irate messenger. Dear Mr Tullum. It is good to see such an old colleague take interest in my little consortium. Your expertise is already known, but it is a shame we do not have meteorites to gaze over this time. Perhaps we shall find some minerals worth pouring over in the future. It would be my pleasure to accept you into this organisation. Regards etc etc, L. Sullas Dear Mr Sythaerin. Though I have not always appreciated many of your past 'quirks,' denying a wealth of knowledge such as yours would be a foolish action on my part. You are welcome within this consortium. Regards etc etc, L. Sullas. Dear Mr Salazar. I was surprised to see a name that I do not recognise within these applications. It is good to see some fresh minds take interest in the scholarly arts, being so rare nowadays after all. I am unsure what precisely is so dynamic about 'aero,' but I will be interested in uncovering its meaning and concepts. Please, allow myself to welcome you to this consortium. Regards etc etc, L. Sullas

Children cannot learn magic. That's what it has been. I do not recall an exact age, because it ought not to be necessary. Wait until your character is not a child, and then feel free to learn magic.

Truth is, there was once a requirement to purchase homes within the city with money. They were quite expensive. Some Mali'aheral had to do what they could for the extra dosh. It was a hard time.

After gathering up the first few of the applications, Lucion carefully places them in a neat stack, and walks them towards the tea-house. Sitting comfortably in his chair, and and sipping of what he hoped was tea (Iatrilemar being the creative sort made it hard to tell) Lucion wrote letters to the applicants, and smiled as he sent them off with a grumbling messenger. Dear Mr Elervathar, My thanks for showing interest in this organisation. It would be my pleasure to welcome a well-spoken individual as yourself into these ranks, even though you appear to sway towards the arcane more than you do scientific pursuits. Even so, your knowledge will be invaluable. Regards, etc etc L. Sullas Dear Mr Calith. My thanks for showing interest in this consortium. Unfortunately, you do not fit the requirements for application, and I must decline it. Mages are not what we seek, but scholars. I am sure there are many other individuals who would gladly seek out your guidance upon matters regarding the arcane, but it is not for this organisation. Regards etc etc, L. Sullas Dear Mr Narnir'sul, Despite my reservations regarding toxins of any kind, I am intrigued by your knowledge of medicine regardless. It will be a pleasure to welcome you as an associate of this consortium. Regards etc etc, L. Sullas

Within the Eternal library of the Mali'aheral, there is a nondescript table resting in a corner covered in papers, along with a single quill and ink-pot. As an individual with considerable spacial-awareness, you would immediately notice this change, and your natural curiosity would push you to investigate. The papers read as thus-- Fellow citizens. Despite the best intentions of singular researchers and scholars, it has become apparent that without the support of fellow scientists, our advancement becomes stunted and slow. Thus I, Lucion Sullas, announce the creation of the Haelun'or Scientific Consortium. This association will be a fertile meeting-ground for like-minded citizens with a desire to discover, understand, and manipulate the nature of the true-world. To ask a rhetorical question in your stead (mostly as they happen to be a pleasant form of breaking the monotony of scribing these notices), 'what advantages specifically does such a society offer?' Partnership: Quick, and direct access to the knowledge of fellow scholars for your research. Organisation: Aid in the building, repairing, testing, and archiving of discoveries/breakthroughs/failures etc. Friendship: I jest. Arbitrary emotional attachments have no basis in science. I inform you, however, that this establishment is not a school. It is an association of intellectuals who excel in their chosen fields. Those desiring simply to learn without having anything useful to offer shall not be accepted. Within this consortium, there shall be rules to which each member must abide. The Regulations I. There shall be no unwilling participants in experiments. We are scholars, and not torturers. Those who kidnap, injure, disable, or gather 'volunteers' in any nefarious manner will be ejected, and their works confiscated. Animals, obviously, do not apply. II. There shall be no revealing research associated with the consortium to those outside of it. This is not for the sake of hoarding knowledge, but to allow the individuals who created such works to receive their rightful praise without the greedy stealing their research. III. There shall be no theft of research. Taking from your fellow scholars is inherently cruel, and will be met with immediate ejection. For those who may join, there are a number of conditions that must be met prior to doing so. For quality of what is offered must always come before quantity. All applicants must have experience in some scholarly/scientific field. Magic, despite the research associated with it, does not count towards this. All applicants must be willing to share their knowledge if requested of it. One must give to receive, and secrecy between fellow members is pointless. All applicants must be willing to publish tomes upon their works and discoveries for use in the Eternal Library when appropriate. At the end of each elven month, members are encouraged to convene a council, and discuss their findings before the whole of the consortium. Sharing both success and failure is equally useful in the continuing march of progress. As the hypothetical head of this organisation, I will be the one to review applications to its ranks. Merely refer to the nearby form, and I will judge your worth to this consortium. Detailed answers are more desirable to short ones. Keep in mind that as for the moment, only pure citizens may apply. Should you be a reasonable individual of another race who has somehow managed to find this through serendipity or otherwise merely state so, and a more practical test of your ability will be arranged. Furthermore, I repeat, that regardless of its scholarly roots magic does not count as an area of expertise. Understanding the nature of the true-world is our goal, and not its manipulation through forces outside of it. A separate pile of papers resides nearby the notice stacked neatly, all with the same words written upon it. Haelun’or Scientific Consortium One’s Name: One’s Area of Expertise: One’s future projects (No time-wasters, please): Will you uphold the regulations of this consortium, knowing fully that disobeying them will lead to you immediate rejection and, should your actions be particularly distasteful, punishment through the law of the Mali’aheral?

Scattered around all sorts of places where people are known to frequent (and not die) another elven notice is posted with all the usual pomp of Haelun'or. If you have bothered to read the notice, being the dreadfully inquisitive fellow that you are, it would read as thus-- Lliran, what is freedom? In the days of the old Princedom, when the Bearded Elf reigned in lands untarnished by war, there was not an elf who would harm another out of malice, or for the desire to keep order. We were an innocent people kept safe from Iblees’ greatest evils, and the brave Wardens would watch our roads and end any monster with a firm shot from their bows. Freedom was simply to live without fear. But time drew on, and without the hand of Native, the Princedom festered. Asulon brought laziness, debauchery and ignorance; with the throw-offs of every foul place slithering into elmalin’or. Normandor, for all its attempts at order, eventually fell into disarray under a number of poor leaders. Haelun’or, thankfully having left the influence of the Princes, remained unaffected. This ‘council of splinters’ is the beginning to a return of the past. Chaos. Sheer debauched disorder. They desire freedom from the influence of Haelun’or, which has done its utmost to shepherd its wayward cousins to discipline and logic, only to have the ways of old return to the fore. These elves, in all their idealistic fervour, certainly expect any ensuing ‘rights’ to ensure the continuance of their egalitarian ways. But these rights will undoubtedly return to precisely what they were before. The Rights of Old The Right to live above the law. To ignore their superiors and disregard common decency. The Right to care nothing for the state. For when the ship is sinking, the rats will board another. The Right to harbour the foulest of beings. Necromancers, Shades, serial-killers, and Uruks are, in their eyes, ‘misunderstood.’ The Right to breed genocide. Mixing of blood curses twice. And without longevity, what is more certain than a lonely death? The Right to die painfully. To be raided, murdered, tossed about and tread upon by any and all who would choose to do so. The Right to be afraid. To fear every passer-by as a killer, a thug, a thief, or a monster. Who are these individuals who would harbour yet another failed state? The cast-offs of every society. Almost all are known to take part in selfish, wasteful relationships for their sake of their own emotional gratification. The creation of Elven children is an obligation that all elves must answer. It is a crime in Haelun’or, but they are punished not for the act, but for the sheer lack of common sense. Add this to their consorting with dark magicians, and some even being enemies of the Valah Temple. Even if they do not outwardly show it, they will always put themselves before the whole. Something that has been stated before, and supported by our own council, was a condition within each concordat that afforded the signatories the right to depart Haelun’or at any time. This was indeed true. And we stopped none who did so. However, a further condition has been violated. “VI: From this day forward pledge to never allow half-breeds of high elven blood, or impure high elves into their ranks, cities, or wherever they call home.” Relgard Sintel -- Osage Village. Banished, impure. Naeri Evangelo -- Talonnii Village. Banished, impure. Elwen Evangelo -- Talonnii Village. Banished, impure. Reported attacks upon our people within the druid grove have further strained our ability to trust in their capability of rational thought. Though with such leaders, can we be surprised? Claimed ‘cruelties’ enacted by the Silver Council could have simply been abated by obedience, and discipline. The pulling of the vilest weeds was a necessity to bring order to our people. But for this horrifying construct, this ‘council of splinters,’ euthanasia is the only option. We of Haelun’or advise, and perhaps even beg, for nations near and far to destroy this Malinor, before its blackened ichors seep back into all of our lands. Iyathante ito elhaelun’or Maehr’sae hiylun’ehya

A concerned expression draws across the Maheral's face as he is informed of the notice, and rubs his chin slowly. Shooing away the messenger, he walks over to his potted tulip, and cuts away an errant leaf upon its stem. "A patch of weeds is worth digging up the whole garden it seems. Very well. If the elven lands of the future must be yet another warzone, I hope they appreciate this small moment of calm."

With a worried expression, Lucion listens to the announcement and grimaces. "I hope this will not afford the other elves too much power in council affairs, knowing their rather terrible history with politics. Though, Uradir is yet to lead us afoul..."

Lucion nods slowly, as he glares at the Mali'aheral with an icy gaze. "It is a shame that my herb garden was lost in our last move. But I suppose this one has earned their return to our society."

Posted in places where elves of any kind frequent, a strangely-worded notice has appeared on many a wall and tavern. It is strange not for being a notice (as they are obviously quite common) but by the fact it is written in the form of a letter. Doubtful, indeed, that any such person has read to this point in the flavour-text, as they will likely only have read the italic's first and last sentence to ascertain the location of this post. However, to those who had the sheer wonderous and delightful disposition to actually bother reading to this point, I give you all one hypothetical Euro. Thank you for being the type of individual who still gives reason for me to write these silly sections, as it means my time has not been wasted on something that has increasingly become a formality, rather than a joy. The notice reads as thus-- "Good tidings to you, my kindred. My name is Garrion Elerei, and I an explorer of history, and writer thereof. I am currently in the process of scribing a tome of elven history. However, I am missing some key features in our earlier days--namely that of Asulon-era elven settlements and individuals. I seek people who will aid me in my quest for knowledge and enlightenment. If you are an individual who knows of such things, please, send me a letter. I am currently residing with the other elves during this strange transitional period. I am mainly interested in the actions and gestures of the leaders of the time, as well as information on a peculiar mainland dark-elven settlement whose name escapes me. I believe it was in quite a kerfuffle with numerous human factions at the time, including an early and infamous White Rose. If nothing else, at least direct me to information upon this subject. I am truly desperate, and willing to learn. With kind, and somewhat excited regards, Garrion Elerei"

Sitting in the Lin'ame district, Lucion nods his head as he patiently listens to the letter being read by one of his associates. He leans back on his bench as the letter is finished, and remains silent for a few moments. "I have heard," he begins in his usual monotonous drawl, "that there are those who refer to the elven people as "tools" in one scheme or another. Be they tools under Oren as Haelun'or, tools under Urguan as the Conclave, or tools under the Krugistan Bloc as the "Grand" Princedom. Though it is blatantly untrue of Haelun'or and the elves therein being tools of any sort, for the sake of my coming analogy let us all presume that we are." The Maheral joins his hands together as he prepares to speak further. "A saw is placed in the hands of a man who uses it to trim errant branches. He prefers his tool to be properly cared for, as rust can form on metal of any sort, so he cleans it after its use and places it somewhere safe and dry for storage. When its teeth grow dull through use, he scrapes it upon a grindstone. Though sharpening the blade is an arduous task, he does so regardless to ensure it remains in the condition it ought to be. Now through some means or another, the saw comes into the hands of a second man. This one, however, is less inclined towards keeping his tools maintained. He cares little where it is kept, so long as it is within arms reach. When its teeth grow dull, he does not put it to the grindstone. He instead accepts its condition as it is, and continues to use it until the blade is so dull it finds trouble cutting through parchment. Accepting its condition as before, even in its worthless state, he instead uses it to plug a hole in his roof. He proclaims thereafter "were I to sharpen it, how would I stop the rain from coming in?" Fatefully, the saw is lost once more and is left on its own in the middle of a grassy hillock. It is a picturesque place. The saw is never used; its blade is kept from any sharpening or cutting, and it remains on that hillock for some time. But days pass. Then weeks. The rain rusts its metal and rots the wooden handle. The grass overgrows it and covers it with filth. All manners of creatures walk over it, knock it about, and damage it before the tool finally gives in to the pressures and collapses into pieces. Though who would expect otherwise, given its situation?" Lucion gestures outwardly towards his associates one by one, before inclining his head respectfully. "Think of that what you will. I am, after all, merely your oppressor."

This thread probably should not have been made, Leo. OOC stuff ignites the angry-juices and is more trouble than it's worth. As for you Areon, please don't think this. What security issues? A closed gate? Who enters is ultimately their decision, and we haven't done anything to tell them otherwise. Or do you mean removal of impure elves from the districts? That's an IC issue. We don't care about independent elves, so long as they're not causing trouble for us. Fenn was attacked because they had attacked us in the past, which the elves considered unjust. Places like Alras which have a relatively high impure/independent population are not touched by us for IC reasons. tl;dr Please don't be silly on the forums.

Sullas "​Diligence in the face of ignorance." The Origins Traits

The Eternal Library of the Mali'aheral stands stark and silent as you delve deeper into its more obscure crevices. The nigh-infinite pages, some centuries in age, are stacked as neatly as possible. Some books are arranged by subject, or perhaps in alphabetical order. Yet many others are simply placed pell-mell inside the shelves, where some poor, beleagured librarian simply gave up. As you pass by the shelves of books one by one, you spot one particularly old tome standing out from the others. Unlike the mad organisation of the books around it, this one sits on its own upon a finely-decorated wooden podium. The cover of the book is made of a worn leather, upon it a faded picture of a stony-faced high elf gesturing outwardly at those who would look upon it. There is no title upon the spine, nor cover. High elves, after all, do not tend to explain that which should be obvious. Whoever would come to view this book obviously already knew what its contents contained. Being unable to suppress your curiosity, you pull open the tome to examine the contents. The first page, arguably the most faded and yet still the most ornate, would be hard to read for the untrained eye. Yet were you to struggle through the cursive and beautiful lettering, it would read as thus-- The Bloodline Archive, the written record of pure families within Haelun'or. The purpose of the Mali'aheral is within the maehr'sae hiylun'ehya. Our philosophy stems both from our minds, and our blood. Silver elves take heed: for the recording of one's family ensures the continuance of our people's health. Scribe your lineage for all to know, and ensure our prosperity for all eternity. As you turn the first page, the lettering is almost immediately different than the original. Multiple family lines are shown on each page, and there is plenty of room for more additions. Shall you add to it? ((Important stuff you might want))

Upon the various poster-boards, where many a poster is righteously scoffed at by the denizens, a new, un-scoffed poster now resides there. As a particularly scoffey denizen, you decide to scuff your scoffs slowly so to accent the suspense of your superior scoffing skills. You also find yourself placing alliteration in your descriptive sentences if for no other reason than to make the doldrums of writing descriptive sentences more pleasant. Anyway, despite this pointless preamble, you begin to read the poster. Attention, District-Dwellers of Blessed Haelun'or The council has taken note of number of issues being brought up by our denizens. We have been informed of many issues previously, but in light of the most fresh discontent, this council has taken the time to push forward this announcement. The accepted Tilruir of the districts have the authority to form local governing bodies beneath the auspices of the Silver Council. The districts are free to legislate their own local laws, as long as they do not conflict with Silver Law, and are accepted by the Silver Council. The accepted Tilruir and leader of the local guard have the authority to remove chaotic/unpleasant entities from their district regardless of race or creed. They may not remove any members of the Silver Council, Sillumir, or E.T.H.I.C. unless they prove to be of unsound mind, or work directly against Silver or local law. Should any dispute this ruling, a signed document of Authority will be given for direct referral. Members of the E.T.H.I.C. must have identification upon them at all times, written and signed by the Sohaer and the leader of the E.T.H.I.C. Those that do not will be considered impersonating important civic officials, and may be taken to the Silver Council for due punishment. As a final reminder to the citizenry of the districts: Remember that you may exercise your right to leave Haelun'or at any time. Maehr'sae hiylun'ehya. Iyatante ito elhaelun'or

This should really be in the "Ideas" section to be honest. If an FM could move it, that'd be delightful!

So hey! How about that war? Pretty nifty! You know what I love about war? When neither side is willing to concede over anything, or allow a warclaim to pass! That sounds pretty crazy right? No? Would you agree if I wrote another rhetorical question? So I've been thinking, as I am known to do. Neither side of this conflict is willing to bend on the whole 'war' thing, and with this newest addition of the droods, I think we can safely say we've exhausted every level this war can take. So while peace is not possible due to reasons, lets do a little thing and stop fighting for a bit when 4.0 hits. You don't need to have a treaty, or stop hating each-other or anything, we just ease up for a bit. Take this hypothetical situation: So, when we leave the fringe, I theorise we'll all go through the same way again (I know I should know as a loremaster, but I haven't been keeping up with the stuff surrounding the departure). When this occurs, everyone'll be rubbing shoulders--friends with enemies, enemies against their myriad of other enemies, and everyone will stack into their own little squares of the boats/carts/whatever and the main thing that will be going through their heads is "gosh, this is really awkward, isn't it?" So for the days and weeks they travel, they all sort of chat amongst themselves, eat together, presumably bathe together, and amble throughout the whole ordeal, all that can pierce their thoughts is "Holy butts, this is absurdly awkward." After they land and they say their gruff goodbyes and rub the back of their heads, they meet up with the other members of their nations, cities, etc etc and they all say to one-another "Did you feel as awkward as I did? I felt pretty bloody awkward." They all then go their separate ways and build their walls and cities and armies, but everyone is too embarrassed to go and raid or attack people. "I owe that Dwarven feller 120 minas for beating me in poker! I can't show my face there!" "I can't go and burn the dark elves today! I touched bums with one in the showers! We have a special connection!" tl'dr, just stop warring for a while after 4.0 hits due to reasons. We can do that, right? C'mon! (Also, this thread is not about babbling over who did what IC/OOC. )

(Bloody good idea to change that title, eh, Spamshock? :P I'll give this a throw.) Name: Lucion Sullas Age: Currently 200-ish Race: High Elf Character Allegiance: Haelun'or. Short Physical Description: (I presume you want a current description rather than a fictionalised one for the story) Lucion stands around 6'6" with a thin, gaunt appearance. He has silvery hair and green eyes, while his face is pallid and set in a near permanent scowl. Short Personality Description: Lucion Sullas is the stuffy cultural leader (Maheral) of Haelun'or. A loyalist, moderate, radical of the maehr'sae hiylun'ehya, lay philosopher, prominent scientist, sorcerer, and a self-taught surgeon, he has a wide range of skills that he offers to his people for those willing to learn. Excessively polite, excessively passive, and excessively logical, Lucion is a gem of Haelun'or ethics and values. And he is very aware of it. Despite being utterly loyal to his city, and people, he has no desire or interest in violent conflict, and will avoid it when possible.