Mithradites

Replace mana with prune-juice. Replace void methane with regular methane. Fart conventionally. Look at those around you cringe in disgust, and/or confusion. Profit?

Azorella Coulissante. -L. Sullas

Having listened to another elf discuss the contents of the letter, Lucion answers coolly. "The Mali'aheral threaten only when threatened. Otherwise, we care little for the actions beyond our walls and lands, save for the the obligations of political alignment. As for any such business regarding the 'archaic' nature of the maehr'sae hiylun'ehya, I would point to the society that has thrived, and then to that which has fallen."

Walking around the wood elven and dark elven districts is a gaunt-looking high elf, who appears to speak to all those who would listen. Elves being the vocal and argumentative race that they are, many are inclined to listen to Lucion before batting away his comments. At least, the more pleasant denizens are. "What are these people whom that speaker described? I recall no time when I saw united elves as this one recalls. Not a race of beasts at least, nor ones as an example of prosperity. The days of Aegis are long gone, along with this one's grip on reality. Elves have been transformed by a century of cruelty! A century of hedonism! A century of madness, and mismanagement! Upon the landing in Asulon, we trekked to the Emerald Peninsular and built a new city in the name of purity, learning, and peace. And yet at every opportunity we have been met by hate due to the tiny, misshapen egos of lesser people. And at the same time, Malinor in its isolation devolved from what marvels it once had to mimic the fragile minds of fouler folk. Weep not for Malinor, as it gained its due fate. Weep only for those who suffered for the incompetence of its leaders. It died the death of a plague-ridden man fed on nothing but plague-ridden potatoes. And what of Haelun'or? The motherland remains as it always has. Its people have gone through trials, but their dedication and loyalty remains. And what of those who are not high elves? The many who have taken up silver, and discarded the poisons of the Old Princedom to the wayside? You face trials, yes. As have we all! Their sting is but the precursor to a glorious new age. Another era of stability and peace comes, Mali. And in the name of both Malin and Larihei, they shall be something to be learned from, just as others seek wisdom from the days of old. However, only if you let it be so. All elves untainted by the hedonism of old are welcome to the Silver City. Make your choice."

Notices are placed on the iron voting boxes by a number of sour-faced high elves inside the Mali'fenn district, each one of them fastening them carefully with a smelly adhesive. After this is performed, the same notices are delivered to both Gabriel and Irelia before they quickly depart the district in the same manner they came. The notices are a simple kind, written in black ink on smooth, bone-white parchment. They read as thus-- Attention to all Mali'fenn of Haelun'or Voting in the 'Election.' As you have entered the silver embrace of Haelun'or, so have you embraced the Concordat by which your district bases its existence. This Council reminds you of the seventh agreement. "VII: The Mali'fenn shall not offer refuge to the former Grand Prince Tundrak of the Mali'fenn." Illogical arguments of the degenerate in question not "living" inside the fenn district should he be elected are irrelevant. Alignment to an enemy of the Crimson-Silver Concordat will not be appreciated. As you left the cursed lord of your people, so did you remove yourself from his influence. Therefore, any vote that involves the handful of Mali'fenn still under the command of Tundrak is declared null and void by the Silver Council. Should said vote involve only the district of the Mali'fenn in Haelun'or, this council agrees to observe it. Should it continue to include the former Grand Prince and and his remaining servants, it is advised that the resident Mali'fenn observe the fourth right afforded to them. "The right to depart Haelun'or at any time." However this right will be enforced universally and immediately by the Sillumiran, and the other elven auxilliaries. Maehr'sae hiylun'eyha. Iyathante ito elhaelun'or

"Technically, none of the races or crossbreeds are 'mutants.' A mutant would be a human with two heads. Or perhaps an Uruk without teeth. Or maybe even a beardless dwarf? Something that would physically differentiate it from its parent species. Thus, unless you wish to kill those I listed, or Mori, I would say your statement is incorrect."

"It's supposed to mean "Last thoughts to the motherland," a nosy Maheral would say, after sneaking up behind the quizzical wood-elf. "I always thought it was "Iyatante ito elhaelun'or, but Elven is a dreadfully ambiguous language."

The Maheral Lucion Sullas stands in the centre of the teahouse, looking towards the gathered members of elven districts. He scowls momentarily at the presence of Jiub, before regaining his composure. In his usual monotonous drawl, he begins to speak. "It has come to the attention of the Sohaer and Silver Council that there are currently issues of tension in and around the districts. Now is the opportune time to voice them. Speak clearly, and without fear." He narrows his eyes briefly, glaring coldly at the gathered elves. "So long as your words do not conflict with the blessed laws."

"I prefer "spawn" personally. It makes me think of frogs--slimy, sticky little creatures that jump on everything. But I suppose children are the only method of creating truly pure citizens." At the end of his sentence, Lucion sighs with sunken shoulders. "Time to woo. Again."

Standing amongst a few elven gawkers, the Maheral Lucion Sullas raises his eyebrow incredulously before speaking to some of his associates nearby. "Let us examine the claims of this individual point by point. In the first statement, the individual claims we wage war similar to that of the old Conclave. I suspect she therefore means that we do not wage war at all. I cannot remember an instance where the Conclave was officially at war, or took violent actions against those outside of it. Perhaps they refer to defending against raiding parties? I suppose that would make us similar to the Conclave in that respect, as well as everyone during this fetid war. Next she claims that we are "owned by humans" and that "the elves of Tahn'siol are human." Alliances are not declarations of vassalage. Frankly, the humans have made no overbearing demands of us, or any demands at all, save for requesting military assistance from time-to-time; as is stipulated within our alliance. I will assume by referring to us as "human" she implies that we have human tendencies. Such as defending ourselves from attacks, not allowing unknown and untrustworthy individuals into the city-proper and the districts, not having our gates open for any unscrupulous wanderer to enter and burn things down, or perhaps because we do not care for the presence of impure, belligerent lechers that so many of our fallen kindred idolise? An unfortunate thing. I suppose we shall forever be considered "humans" by her. The third and longest statement appears to be a wishful desire to return as Malin was. I would suppose this was a noble sentiment, were I to know precisely what that entails. What do we know of Malin? What, precisely, were his ways? Living amongst trees? Being "nice?" Accepting whatever cross-bred mutt that walked into his home, only to have them curse multiple generations of his pure-born elves? I should hope that our Father Malin would be wiser than this. Even so, would not his "ways," whatever they may have been, be hopelessly outdated after the millennia of his passing? We are now using solid forms of governance and philosophy. There is not a single entity in this world that does not, in some way, strive for "peace and progression." The circumstances of the Mali take us down different paths than Malin. And these different paths require different methods. He would understand, as I feel he was an intelligent fellow. And, at last, we come to the final statement. "Why can we not be elves?" Indeed. I suppose this statement would be poignant, were the districts under the Enclave's control not entirely for the purpose of solidifying the differing elven cultures. We Mali'aheral did so quite entirely out of kindness. We saw an opportunity to end the diaspora of the Mali, and bring them under one state; Motherland. Our Haelun'or. We are all of us elves of pure blood, and many now seek to find their place in the world without the fear of oppression. I propose that the writer of this letter, this "Alirya," is more human than she claims herself to be. Possibly because she considers "elven" to be only one's capacity for "niceness", and one's desire to hug a tree." Taking one final look at the parchment, Lucion cracks a small smile. "You know, were this the early days of Asulon, whole legions of elves would yell and scorn in disbelief were I to tell them breeding with non-elves was a terrible thing. Nowadays, even the mindless note-leaving outsiders accept it as truth. Perhaps in another century or two, they will understand entirely, and come to us in both body and mind." As Lucion finishes, he is offered a cup of tea with two district elves, and some of his high-elven compatriots. He declines politely, and returns instead to the Tahn'siol Teahouse, where he has tea alone with a pleasant book.

With a cool expression, Lucion glares outwards from the walls. "And hopefully, it may give me a chance to disprove that ridiculous "parasite" theory."

Lucion narrows his eyes at Kalenz as the gate raises with a shuddering lurch. "We're doing this again, are we? You are lucky there are more pressing matters to be concerned with."

Wiping some of the grime off his face, Lucion grumbles at Seth sternly. "Firstly, I would like to say that leaving one as-of-yet unaffected by the plague outside with the plague gives them an excellent chance of catching the plague. Not that I should have to tell you that of course, as it would imply that your lack of action makes you mentally deficient. Secondly, I -am- the Sohaer, and I do not recall giving such an order. Now, lift this gate, before some dreg decides to spit on me."

Up the stairs stomped a high elf in significantly dirty, and tattered robes. He had taken some time to check the area, and remain out of sight of any infected within the area. Stepping carefully around the various liquids, pus, filth, and dirt that languished on the city steps, he shook his head with a furrowed brow, and scowled in disgust. It was not proper for such things on their city steps, and he certainly did not approve. Standing straight, and stiff, he glowered deeply at the wary Sillumir who requested his name. Tired from his journey, and desiring a bath, he gave the poor guardsman a very unimpressed look. "One is Sullas, and I have come to aid in the proper quarantine efforts. I currently display no symptoms of infection, and I highly recommend that you allow me entrance. Unless you plan to shoot me down like a savage." He remains outside, and looks behind himself every few moments to watch for intruders.

A small, leather-bound book is delivered to the resident librarian ghost by a citizen snooping around the property of the disappeared Sohaer Lucion Sullas. Being as you are undoubtedly a high elf/city resident, and have access to the library, you are curious about this new tome, and decide to have a short read. Of course, were you not in fact a resident, or an intruder who would randomly open and read this particular book in the enormous high-elven library, then you should also remember that 99% of sentient beings are incapable of telepathy and any thoughts you may have are unlikely to be heard, despite how hard you think. Furthermore, being as a book delivery tends to be a mundane thing, hearing about it second-hand may be considered utterly ridiculous unless you too are also considerably mundane. Any-who, it reads as thus-- A Guide to Proper Social Etiquette by L. Sullas I have been asked on a number of occasions upon the "proper" way of acting when in the presence of fellow citizens. Not that I wish to presume my compatriots have terribly poor manners (though many could perhaps use some advice) I shall regardless outline the proper etiquette taught to me by my family. Should the citizenry be interested in such things, then do please read on. I shall not offer explanation for "why" to do such. Merely that I find it pleasant, as should anyone. ~One's Attire~ A Mali'aheral's outfit should be clean, devoid of creases, and be of a fine quality. Avoid garish, bright colours that would attract pointless attention. Be a beacon through your words and mind, rather than the hue of your under-shirt. Always wear an outfit that is tasteful to the eye. Though there are outfits with smaller amounts of material that compliment its wearer's natural perfection, showing unnecessary skin speaks poorly of your character, and may mark you as one of ill-repute. When wearing a long-coat, always be sure to position the bottom hems carefully when sitting down upon a chair, a stool, or the ground. The material can become easily crushed, and create dreadful creases. When dressed in full robes, be sure to sit straight on your chair. The cloth located upon one's sternum is highly likely to crush when leaning forward, so take special care to smooth the material whilst sitting for long periods. ~One's Posture~ Never slouch under any circumstance in public. Slouching implies weariness, and looking weary around others may give them the impression that you find their presence tiring. Should I have to explain why such a thing tends to reflect poorly on your reputation, I feel you should simply close this book now. ~One's Voice~ Always speak clearly with precise annunciation. A fiercely exaggerated "r" does nothing to endear yourself to you compatriots. There is nothing more dismal than a Mali'aheral who mumbles. Worse still, one who speaks with awful colloquialisms (Example, "Aye," "Nay," "Milord," "Milady,") is similar to that of a dove braying like a donkey. Refrain from filthy languages as often as possible. The Uruk tongue, though it may have its uses in communication with those beasts, should be avoided during social gatherings. So too, should any foul words native to the common tongue (I shall not write them here, as it is a public book, after all) Speaking as a brute is but the first step to being a brute. ~One's Habits~ Do not pick at your features when in the presence of your fellows. An itch upon ones ear may be scratched, certainly, but an irritation in the nose must wait until privacy may be found. Always cough or sneeze into a handkerchief, or if one is not available, away from the table/direction of your colleagues. Illness spreads in the air, as well as the body, and others may avoid you should you not have a way of keeping your expulsions contained. Should you feel the need for flatulence, excuse yourself from the vicinity. Never smoke or chew tobacco; it dirties the lungs, fouls the air, and stains the robes. Those who do such are naturally filthy, and their stench is deplorable. Be mindful of your fellow citizens, and respect their nostrils. One should always carry a handkerchief, or at least a clean length of cloth, to wipe away any grime that should get upon your clothes. Better yet, carry a second to offer a compatriot who is otherwise handkerchief-impaired. ~One's Courtesy~ Should a citizen be walking towards a gate behind you, be sure to open it for them if they intend to go forth themselves. The same idea extends to that of doorways, however, one should offer entrance to the one behind first. Should you observe fellow residents caught in the rain, it is polite to offer them sanctuary from the elements until they pass over. You yourself would not wish to be sodden, and thus extending that courtesy is polite. When you have a guest within your home, be sure to first offer them a refreshment of some sort. If none is to be had, then offer food. If there is a lack of both, be sure to apologise for your poor housekeeping. Always ask permission to sit at another's table. As a guest in a home, you should never presume that you have any right to be seated in the presence of another. Furthermore, always request permission to leave, once conversation or purpose has been exhausted. Should you be seated at a public table, then consider the ones seated at it before you the "owners" of the space and the rules may be applied appropriately. ~One's Pleasantries~ When greeting a fellow citizen, a simple "karin'ayla" is sufficiently polite for strangers. However, those closer to you, or those worthy of praise, should be entitled to more elaborate forms of greetings. A short bow towards a respectable fellow is reasonable enough, as well as a quick arm gesture (example, touching one's chest, and extending your arm outwards) would be sufficient still. Combining all three is polite in all situations without any chance of insult. When retiring from conversation, a simple "Van'ayla" combined with the bow and gesture is excellent indeed. Addressing your fellow citizens by name is tasteful, and it is always best to seek out their name at the beginning of every conversation. Should you not recall another's name, inquire of it quickly to avoid further embarrassment. The statement "maehr'sae hiylun'ehya" is in itself a blessing, and may be used as both a delightful "hello," or "goodbye." However, to not return this blessing upon receiving it is -extremely- rude. How could you not return such a sentiment? Are you truly so devoid of eloquence that you dare not embarrass others with your foul pronunciation? It is truly outrageous. Know these words, and use their advice. The people of this city will be far better for it. Maehr'sae hiylun'ehya.

It's a beta, and essentially a crappier version of League of Legends using Dead Island characters. Does this tickle your fancy still? It's for your own good!

Alrighty-highty-hooty! Well, it's the moment you have all been waiting for! I shall announce the winners of my silly contest! I was going to do this whole thread comparing one art-piece to another, but in the end, I decided that people might misinterpret it as insulting, or something. So, I'll just announce the winners. All of whom may PM me with their Steam-name, so that I may send them their fabulous prize! I shan't contact you personally, though (unless you've totally forgotten and I feel guilty). Not all games were claimed, sadly, and some folks had to pull out, but I think it is enough art to satisfy my ego. At least for today! The winner of XCOM: Enemy Unknown is the fabulous Shorty794! The winner of Chivalry: Medieval Warfare is the fabulous Trips! The winners of Civilisation IV are the fabulous SkyyoBee and Desires! The winner of Dead Island: Epidemic is no-one, because that game is a piece of ******* ****! The winner of Dragon Age: Origins Ultimate Edition is the fabulous CrayfishChris via the wonderful power of default! The winner of Guns of Icarus Online is... no-one! The winner of The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion Ultimate Edition Deluxe is the fabulous Firestar .3.! The winner of System Shock 2 is the fabulous BrandNewKitten for his own damn good. And finally, the winner of Half Life 2 (as well as being the hardest decision of all) is the fabulous Kitten! Congrats to the winners of my fabulous prizes! However, there are innumerable people who, through the kindness of their own, selfless hearts, gave free art to me. Since they asked for nothing, I have taken it upon myself to give them one Euro. This Euro. Thanks you all very much for drawing! :)

Tomorrow's the last day, boys and girls! After I get back from the day's nonsense, the contest is over! You have 12 hours from this post!

Sorry dude! I still feel it falls under the "butt-painting" category. Gotta be good to earn the goods!

Elf would note that Bowman is probably right in many ways!