Dakirennis

I mean, that’s my main concern as well. Let me have my dope again mods.

“That mine shaft was terrifying.” Dak comments as he smacks a few lizards on the ass to get his caravan going.

((No we used regular run of the mill fireworks to blast some gravel.

((This was a joke as Leonie (Darksainthood) was the wonderful host of our event this evening.

Their intentions were simple that night as far as the others were aware. Despite the overhanging frustration felt among the ashen kin they picked up at the idea of a hunt to let the frustrations free. Tonight they would work together as they always did. Freeing their minds of the outside. They steeled their hearts as they embarked on their hunt. The rise of the hungering swarms were beginning to worry Dak’ir. He’d known of his kins previous attempts to cull their numbers. But every night it seemed as though the dancing blue lights grew in greater number each and every night. At the very least they would root out what was closest to them and buy themselves a little breathing room. Upon a lengthy trek south through the hollow they rediscovered the abandoned mine shaft. It had seemed as though the insects had moved their discarded gravel closer to the old entrance. Clan Jusima had worked quickly to create a small blast, though underestimated the potency of Hou-zi explosives and whether by miracle or chance it seemed to ignite the entire inner chamber at once. Turning the nest into a screaming, writhing mass of pain and chitin. Thousands of the awful, different sized things exploded forth in anger and fear, trying to both save themselves and lash out at the ashen kin as they passed. Engaged in a defensive fallback, they ‘Ker struck at the Lurkers closest and that dared approach. Though oddly enough the very earth would rumble around them. Great boulders and stones falling from the roof that threatened to split the ceiling wide and spill the light of Aztran into the Under-Realm. They fell in great avalanches, sweeping the swarming tides from the walls and driving south from the dark elves’ path. Truly his calls had been heard… As they rallied once more and pushed free from the swarm the cavern would churn and rise behind them. The great avenue now sealed off under layers of stone, chitin, and fury. Dak’ir and his kin would head home in a hurry. Knowing full well that what was unleashed was far greater than what a handful of ‘Ker could achieve. The prayers to Freygoth and Bregthar were answered with a catastrophic symphony...

Hail, King of Dwed and fellow councilmen. These past few nights of deliberation between my kin, my fellow shaman, and even the Spirits have been draining upon both my mind and soul. We are a nomadic people, though not by choice. Strife is common among our kin and my goal within this hollow was ever pure to their safety and reverence to their Ancestors and the Spirits. I had surveyed this land, north of the border colonies and the eyes of those I’d feared may try to use us. Though I did not expect it would be from your kind, so far south that I had assumed we’d be free from even your reach, would threaten us in our barren tube of stone that we’d slowly bloomed into a den of life. Even upon greater heights than the Under-Realm. I look down even now to the small pits of lava as they churn, I hear the skitter of the things of the deep as they gather and writhe, and I hear the worried whispers of my people from the home they’d spend these last elven months making. We had offered to try and sate your greed and give you our word to never encroach south or into the lower depths to where your ruins lay. But it is dominion you seek, to remove our sites of worship to the Spirits from our halls, and They only know what other greedy terms your hearts will. But as I try to preach to my kin I shall so preach to you now. We may have greed in our mortal hearts but Theirs is always greater. The will of the Spirits can be dangerous when meddled with. But I digress. If still truly seek to root us from this hollow you are welcome to. Behind our gates your will find our halls free of my kin but something more terrifying than I would wish upon few people. The tread of your war efforts are too easily known to our kind and we’ve acquainted ourselves with this mountain enough to ensure our safety no matter the outcome. I apologize for this not being the outcome you sought, but I will ensure my people’s safety and freedom of worship. I do so hope that after tonight your kin may reconsider leaving us alone in our little realm now that the ceiling falls horrid things that swarm the lower halls. The Spirit of Earth and the Spirit of the Wilds watch over us. Our hearts are Onyx, not our home. Ufur Ilzgul Lup Ilzgul, Dak’ir Des’Nox, Primarch of the Onyx Sanctum and Motsham of the Dark Elves.

Holla

Dak’ir recalls the old elven calls to harvest crotch fruit. He knew he’d have to buckle down and do some honest work.

These mad lads must be stopped

((Sorry for gettin in the way there boyos.

The Onyx Sanctum ‘Ker of the Old Ways _______________________________________________________________________________________ Founded in faith and reverence. The ‘Ker Onyx Sanctum find themselves here to be free in their spiritual worship, free from the yoke of their pale skin cousins and the wars they would seek to use them in, free from the prying eyes of humanity. To forsake the outside world as their Ancestors did. Some clans as old as the times of Malinor and some as young as the strifes of Vira’ker. Some united in their will to purge heretics and their unclean kin, others simply staying to learn their lost history and wander once more, all together in faith under the Moon’s vigil and the Spirit’s will. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Locations The Common Hollow The epicenter of the Sanctum, this is where ‘Ker congregate most for the general day. Moving to and from their dens or shrines, to the craftsmen hut or forge, to the ever famous Uuthlini tavern, you’ll find most of the spiritual kin here living their day to day lives. Luara’s Rise Atop the Onyx Sanctum is the great Totem of Luara, built in blessed reverence to symbolize Veluleai’s hallowed prayer that was first recognized by Luara, it features a plateau with a great crescent shrine for various rituals and celebrations in the Moon Mother’s and Primess’ names. The stone pond around the totem bleached white by Her glow shines bright with the silvered offerings that sit at it’s bed. The Lower Sanctum Home to the Temple of the Ancestors as well as a host of fungal growth. The Lower Sanctum is both a place of harvest and tranquility. An untouched bio-luminescent oasis in the darkened void created by the ashen kin. Clans of the Sanctum _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Des’Nox Elder and deepened within the Spiritual Plane and history of their kin, the elder clan continues its work to its people. Uncovering the lost knowledge of the ashen folk’s Ancestors to return to their people though tales for guidance. Or to in turn lead the mortal ‘Ker to their Ancestors for open reverence or. Their patron Spirits are Luara and Kor and their current clan elder is Dak’ir Des’Nox. Uuthlini As jovial as they are timeless, the old Uuthlini clan continue to brew their famous ales and spin their songs alongside their people. The clan is quite famous for their fixation upon the color blue to the point they almost seem to revere it. Some wearing it upon themselves or even dying their hair the deep blue of a midnight sky. Whatever the cause, it has affectionately given rise to the nickname blueberries, not only for their clan colors but their delightful brews as well. Their patron Spirit is Betharuz and the current Blue Father is Maladem Uuthlini. Isilioleth Wayward and Spiritual. The ‘Ker of the Isilioleth clan keep elder ways alive and well. Steeped in centuries of honored clan traditions used to pay homage to both the Spirits and their Ancestors through every aspect of their lives. Through the colors they wear and the makings they place upon themselves the Isilioeth ever display their faith. Swaying between their kin to the uruks over the years, they have amassed much knowledge of the Spirits as a whole and work to diligently to spread these beliefs and ideals to their Onyx kin. Their patron Spirits are Kor and Jevex and their current clan head is Tedyn Isilioeth. Jusima Few traces of the pure Mali'ker blood of Jusmia linger onward. With the biggest of the gatherings coming forth. Daichia Jusmia takes the mantle of Clan Leader. Determined to place the name Jusmia down within the eternal halls of the ancestral cities. This clan places great value on familial ties as well as the bonds of the forge. It’s clan Patriarch leading the way for reviving elder dark elven smithing techniques. Their patron Spirits are Gentharuz and Kulthark and their current clan head is Daichia Jusima.

The small outpost of Onyx had sat still over the warm summer months. The tall, sturdy cabins and warm dens in the earth covered in moss housed the few humble ‘Ker of clans Des’Nox, Uuthlini, Isilioleth, and Jusima. They had gathered here under Aztran’s warmth, taking in Freygoth’s bounty. Though as always the cold winds of the harvest season had slowly begun to creep into their wayward encampment. The heavy fog that rolled around their ankles each morning soon made way for the brisk frost. Their tufts of wheat that clung to their creek now tall and golden fell beneath crescent scythes polished to a bright sheen akin to the silver of the Moon Mother’s glow. Only to be tarnished red by the throats of their fattened livestock, soaking the earth in a crimson blessing that would bring the Spirits favor for a harvest just a bountiful next year. Dak’ir as well as Daichia and the bulk of his clan Jusima had gone ahead of the rest of their spiritual kin to build what would be an everlasting sanctum of worship and safety to those who’d tread their Ancestors’ path. At the foothills of the northern end of the great mountain range the Primarch had led the fledgling clan to the abyss of their new home. Within this hollow they would cut their teeth as their Ancestors of old. Stone spires soon rose, warm and welcoming, and their dedication to the Spirits did as well. Shines to those they favored and to those they were thankful for. To the great Moon Mother they would they would make up their lost worship to. To the Gatekeeper they would pay their thanks for everlasting peace. And to their Ancestors they would always honor and remember. Soon other clans would follow and here on their Onyx Pilgrimage they would make a land most holy to tread upon.

“Heresy...”