WuHanXianShi14

FMs and GMs, I understand I'm not the single principal nation leader, but I am one of the main leaders, and main people involved in coordinating with all the GMs and the Admin involved in the moderation of this situation. Would appreciate if this post was kept up. Firstly, all of those Casus Bellis were part of the same event, the siege of San Kharak, an event where the wood elves were tertiarily involved as Orenian Vassals. You cannot stretch that out into 11 different casus bellis, that's absurd (let alone ignoring the fact that most if not all of those individual killing you listed were done by Orenians not wood elves). That'd be like if instead of a nation invading another nation being one casus belli, every single soldier and civilian the invading nation killed made up its own, isolated casus belli. You're really stretching logic very thin to accomodate your warped view of the rules. Secondly, all the events you listed (all part of the siege of san kharak) happened 9 months ago, which, as you claim yourself is now invalid as it has been more than 3 months. (it happened last october) Regarding your "Failure to pay reparations" point, actually, we have. See below: A peace treaty has been signed and reparations paid between the two nations since the siege of san kharak, and it can not be re-used as casus belli because of it. As for your claim of disrespecting the spirits and what-not, I don't really see that either. One of the Dominion's principal sub-race leaders is a Shaman (Dakirennis) and one of our main races, the dark elves, worship the Spirits, which we happily encourage. The only thing I can think of being rationalized as "Disrespect of Spirits" is when we killed that one orcish Shaman who was literally helping you raid us, unprovoked. To summarize, you cannot stretch one casus belli to be 11 casus bellis. And the one you have is far older than 3 months, which is the cut-off date, and even if it was not, a treaty and reparations have been paid for it already while ago, rendering it unusable again.

if animals dint wanna be eaten they shouldnt have been made of meat

Hi, resident asian here, I dare you to find me one thing on this server not heavy inspired or directly ripped off of another fantasy world or IRL cultures and mythologies.

It is possible for Mani to come into conflict with one another, yes. However they're more likely to work together. Conflict between Mani is unlikely, as Mani are aware of the concept of natural selection- key word natural. Natural extinction cannot be fought so a Mani whose species was fading away would likely accept his/her fate, but the interference of descendents or unnatural beings is something to fight over. A mani's power is indicative of how prominent his/her species is, so yes, if their species went extinct, they would fade away. Mani in general are like parents, they punish the disrespectful and reward the respectful. So those who leave offerings or show reverence for nature are more likely to receive an audience or blessings from a Mani. Therefore if you were nursing a member of its species it would likely look upon you favourably. Mani will work together with humans to fend off dark creatures (like iblees yes). I hope that answers all your questions. Thanks for your appreciation! Don't worry, they're going to be for events only. I never intended to make them for players.

In that case, this really isn't more lore for druids. In events, the Mani can effect quite literally any playerbase in many different ways. They may be more likely to interact with druids given their shared patron, but druids do not exclusively benefit from this lore. Even if it did, I reflect Jaeden and Sky's comments in that druidism is honestly quite limited, especially in comparison to magics like shamanism and voidal, and can use some extra flavour.

That's what I'm doing here, actually. Also, this is not druid lore. It is possible for these creatures to never have any interactions with druid players in RP.

I would assume given they are demigods that they would have superior souls. They can control the weather simply because the Aspects gave them more powers than druids. The Mani are literally demigods, entrusted as the direct underlings of the Aspects, who interact with them personally. The druids are a step down the rung. Its always hard when you write new lore for creatures or beings that canonically have always existed, and RPly would have been known about, but OOCly weren't written into lore until now. Yes, I think its reasonable that modern day druids and wood elves will know of the Mani's existence and their general purpose, but perhaps memory of specific names and details has faded over time. A druid can call for a Mani, but a Mani will by no means bound to answer. They are completely free in will and druids are unable to control them. Mani decide whether someone is worthy of their blessings. Druids, being the aspects servants, are more likely to see a Mani.

Mani - Demigods of the Wild “We’re simple folk here. We eat what we grow and we grow what we eat. But one summer the heat bore down on us. I was sure GOD was punishing us for our sins. Our crops dried up so we took to our ancestor’s life. Hunting in the woods. Them pigs was the best meat. Could gore ya with their tusks but, they was big, easy shot through the eyes. So we kept killing em. More we killed, harder they became to find. Then the rain returned and we went back to our crops… but we didn’t expect the storm. Oh blessed St. Godfrey… hundreds and hundreds of them boars. A sea of fur. They gored us on their tusks and flattened our homes like a roller over dough. At their head… a beast, it weren’t of this world, I tell you. A demon, a demon of vengeance in the form of a great big bloody pig…” ~Yeoman of a hamlet outside Petrus, 1456 Introduction The Mani, at their essense, are guardian spirits created and appointed by the Aspects, gods of the wild, to serve as protectors of a certain niche or species. Their mandate is simple, to protect their species, whatever that species may be. To guide them to green pastures or rich hunting grounds, and to fend off all who would threaten their tribe’s existence. They are born from nature’s many beasts, the most worthy of each species are chosen by the Aspects and granted an eternal lifespan and powers of the divine. These chosen beasts are in essense, reborn as Demigods. The Mani are numerous and take many forms. One for each major niche fulfilling species of the wild. The Ancient Seeds of the wood elves regarded these immortal spirits as beings to be venerated, as princes of their tribe. There were many. A Prince of the Wolves, Prince of the Boars, Prince of the Eagles, Prince of the Elk, among others. These divine beasts are blessed with sapience, intelligence, and wisdom accumulated over potentially thousands of years of living. They use these gifts to shepherd their flocks and ensure the breed they are entrusted to protect is prosperous and thriving. The more powerful of the Mani often take incorporeal forms, drifting from one grouping of their species to another, guiding individual flocks, herds and packs when the machinations of men threaten them. Mani can be generous to the mortal descendants, even to those who hunt their tribe. Elves and men who leave gifts of tribute in the woods, and perform the proper rites of respect when interacting with their breed, may find unexpected blessings bestowed on them by the divine beasts. Inversely, those who overhunt, overfish, or destroy too much of a species habitat may soon find a dark, hulking shadow looming in the night. It is then they know they have invoked the wrath of the wild. Given their nature, there are many that claim the Mani to be the bridge between man and beast. Origin There was a time when the world was young, when the Aspects influence over the mortal world was still new. This was a time before the races of men, elves and dwarves walked the land. It was a more primal world. Far wilder, less order. Then, the descendents arrived. They came into the world stumbling, with no niche to fill. Yet, under the leadership of their forefathers, they carved one for themselves. Men would soon build great cities, leveling the primal elder forests to make farmland to feed their ever growing populations. The Dwarves hollowed out once proud mountains and filled the sky with coal smoke. Only the elves, under Malin’s guidance, carved a life for themselves which coexisted with the wild, but even their presence was dooming to the great leviathans that once roamed the world, now hunted into extinction by the Mali. To the Aspects, the damage had been done. The mark the mortal races of the realm had left on the ecosystem was irreversible. But, could be mitigated. Yet gods could only interfere directly so much in this world. So, they devised a solution. The Aspects made a great call. At the highest mountain in the ancient world, they called upon the single strongest, wisest, most cunning member of each great species of the earth. And so they gathered. The Cheiftains of the Elk, Boar, Eagle, Panther, Wolf, Horse and Snake were the first to heed the call. The Aspects bestowed upon them two gifts. One of sapience, and one of divine etherealism. For in order for nature to counteract the influence of mortal men on this world, it had to fight back with man’s greatest advantage: its intelligence. These newly elevated beasts, the first of the Mani, would hold the powers of the Aspects, a power necessary to protect their tribes- and the ability to roam about the earth in spirit from to keep an eye on all their kin. Yet, the Aspects did not instruct the Mani to wage war. Infact, they were created for an entirely different purpose. To bring balance between mortals and the great wild. In dire situations, the Mani were to protect their tribe from men, elves and dwarves at any cost. Yet, they were also to reward the ones who displayed a respect for the Aspects and nature, to bestow upon them blessings and gifts. Like parents, wrathful in disobedience but rewarding in good behaviour, the Mani would come to embrace their role as enforcers of the new world order. Behaviour “Do you hear the wolves howl, boy? The great packs gather at the edge of this forest, where the mountains meet the sea, it means they have come to see their king. These lands are watched over by mordu ito el’nor. We would do well to leave an offering before we hunt, else our wives will find our carcasses days later, missing our throats.” ~Elder Warrior of an Ancient Mali’ame Seed The Mani are enigmatic beings. The way they act (when they can even be observed by man) is often unexplainable and irrational to those who attempt to make sense of it. Be that as it may, these demigods have a deeper understanding of the machinations of nature’s balance and their respective species’ place in it than any other. Many can employ the powerful gifts that were bestowed upon them to better fulfill their duty. In terms of basic intelligence, Mani have it in abundance. They are capable of speech in the tongues of men and elves, and understanding concepts such as emotion and mental cognition through a human lense. This is a gift bestowed upon them by the Aspects so they can better fulfill their duty as the bridge between descendents and beasts. Despite this, they are a rare sight to man, only appearing before humans to bestow blessings to the rare few who are worthy, and reign vengeance on those who abuse the balance of nature. On that front, the Mani have many powers, many of which you would expect, being patron creations of the Aspects. In their creation into eternal demigods, these creatures were essentially “attuned” much in the same way the gods of nature lend their power to mortals when they become druids. As such, the Mani often display feats that mirror druidic magic, with a wilder, more powerful edge. Some examples of a Mani’s power are as follows. Achieve communion with all life forms around them. Their mastery over this exceeds their druidic counterparts exponentially. They can sense the tiniest things from yards away, making them almost impossible to sneak up on. You do not find a Mani. It finds you. Have mastery over the wilds around them, and direct nearby flora to their will Have limited control over the weather. Usually limited to precipitation (Rain, snow, and hail) Take on non-corporeal forms. The Mani can take on spiritual forms to drift about the world, travelling from one pocket of their species to another. However, they cannot use their other gifts while in a non-physical body. Mental connection with their species. The Prince of Elk could order all of its kind gallop off a cliff, and they would do it. Not that it would never command such a thing. This gift is used by Mani to organize their tribe to defend against a looming threat, or send helpful beasts out to guide or aid descendents that pay respects Weaknesses The Mani are eternal, not immortal. After all, no one but aenguls or daemons ever could be. As such, they can be slain. Powerful enough magics or enough well placed arrows will down the divine beasts, although those who try may find that a demigod does not fall as easily as a normal animal, that they can sustain critical injuries and still fight on before perishing. Ultimately, the greatest Achilles’ heel of the Mani is simple. The hearts of men. There is a reason that the patron beasts avoid contact with the descendent races, choosing only to show themselves to men and women who prove themselves kind-hearted, wise, and respectful to the wild. This is because of the fact that by being given the gift to empathize with human concepts of emotion, they have become extra susceptible to it. Mani can be corrupted by human cruelty and greed. This happens only when these things are enacted upon it, not simply witnessed. When a Mani is wronged directly, such as being attacked directly, or having its home destroyed by man, its vulnerable heart warps, and it becomes a twisted corruption of itself. This demon abandons all its inhibitions and becomes a tool of vengeance, attempting to destroy all in its path, controlled by the very anger exposed to it by mankind. The Great Spirits Not all Mani are created equal. The power of each individual depends on the abundance of their species and said species’ influence upon the great balance. The greatest and most powerful of the Mani are called the ‘Great Spirits’. These are the divine beasts that are best known to men and elves, and thus have been given names and titles. While they are not the only Mani, not by a long shot, they are perhaps the most venerated. Amaethon - Prince of the Cervidae Among the most enigmatic and rarely seen of Mani is Amaethon, Prince of the Cervidae, otherwise known as the Chieftain of Elk, Deer and Moose. Amaethon is quiet and contemplative, as befits the species he guides. He rules with a light touch, patiently guiding his herds to green pastures and often choosing to steer them away from the big cities of men instead of confronting them directly. Amaethon is among the more generous when it comes to interaction with descendents. Albeit, he is hard to find. Those who do manage to get his attention through an appropriate offering, or the right respect shown when hunting and consuming his species, may receive blessings of plentiful crops or cure from sickness, among other things. Sequana - Prince of the Cetacea In ancient times, Wood Elven seeds were spread across the lands. Among the ones who dwelled by the sea-side, a common mantra was spoken: “Beware Sequana, Lord of Whales”. Sequana is a true leviathan, and rules the deep waves. His tribe is relatively few in number, and thus he defends them fiercely, making him one of the more aggressive Mani. Sequana will defend the ocean from overfishing and tainting of the water. However, it is whalers in particular that must be most careful. The ancient mali’ame would often spend days appeasing Sequana through offering and ceremony before setting out with their harpoons to hunt whales and dolphins. To the less prepared, those who hunt the great marine mammals with no respect for their kill may find themselves invoking the wrath of the Leviathan, and finding themselves a deep, watery grave. Morea - Prince of Wolves and Hounds If you keep with you a pet dog, then beware. No matter how tame you think he is, how loyal, how docile, he will leave you if called upon by Morea, Chieftain of Wolves and Hounds. As befits his title and appearance, Morea is the Mani of canines. He holds dominion not over the wild wolfpacks of the wild, but also the domesticated hounds of men, elves and dwarves, and considers himself their protector. A cruel man who beats or starves his loyal pet may have his corpse discovered mysteriously, ripped apart by teeth and claws… Beyond that, Morea is considered by many to be an apex predator, the patron of the hunt. It is said that he who gives him proper offering and shows the right amount of reverence will find a pack of wolves by his side, guiding him in the hunt. Of course, said hunter would have to be willing to share his kill, and perhaps eat it raw. Nemglan - Princess of Eagles Lord of the sky, chieftain of the bird of prey. It is said Nemglan is a Mani that can be in perpetual flight, never needing to land, and only doing so to perform its rare interactions with mankind or other beasts and Mani spirits. Falconers and bird tamers in particular owe a debt to this divine beast of the sky for any success they have in the hunt, for in a simple passing, she can have the feathered predators turn against their human masters. Among all the Mani, it is perhaps Nemglan who has the least concern for the descendent races and their affairs. However, to those dedicated enough, she still has blessings to give. Any who manage to tame a wild bird of prey to their will, be it a hawk, falcon or eagle, gains the respect of Nemglan, and will find themselves given success in the hunt. Any who mistreat their newfound companion, however, or seeks to undermine its nature as a wild animal may end up ripped up by talons instead. Moccus - Prince of Boars Moccus goes by many names. The Prince of Boars, Chieftain of Pigs, and the Warrior Beast. The last one best befits his nature, as Moccus is perhaps the most warlike of the Mani, preferring direct confrontations with humans, elves, dwarves and whatever else threatens his species. Entire villages have been known to be flattened should they overhunt or damage too severely the habitat of the great pigs. But prowess in battle aside, Moccus is not as savage as one may think. Although he prefers direct fighting over lurking in the shadows like other Mani, it does not mean he deliberately seeks out war. War only comes when mankind deliberately threatens his brood. Moccus can be helpful and gentle to descendents. He is known to watch over sacred places of the Aspects, elder trees and groves. Even Cerridwen herself was known to favour the boar god, and take him as a lover. Machana - Princess of Steeds Machana is yet another Mani whose influence holds much weight in the realm of men, elves and dwarves, seeing as much of her kin coexist and serve the descendent races as mounts. Unlike other Mani, Machana has a more passive nature and often refuses to engage in conflict. However, anyone who mistreats their mounts may awake one day to find an organized stampede of horses flattening their stable and galloping their way to freedom. Machana, like all Mani, watches over her flock in nature. All herds of wild horses are her domain, and she dutifully leads them to the greenest pastures and most suitable climates. Men and elves who seek to tame a wild horse will often be blessed by Machana with a strong and loyal steed should they make the right offerings and afford the right respect beforehand. Other Mani There is no set number for how many Mani roam the earth. Theoretically, there could be as many as there are families of animal species in the world. The greater the species in influence, population and geographic spread, the more power a Mani will have. Some lesser known, yet documented Mani are as follows. Prince of Wildcats Prince of Toads Prince of Snakes Prince of Ravens Prince of Bears Conclusion For those who frequent the woods, beware. For nature is like us in many ways, divided by tribes. Tribes have leaders. Leaders like ours, who are benevolent to the loyal and wrathful to the disobedient and disrespectful. Nature has rulers, kings who watch over their people and will do anything to protect them. The wild is a mysterious place ruled by great beasts. The descendent races can seek to appease and respect them, or conquer them, as is the nature of man. But woe be to those who invoke the wrath of kings.

Welcome to Lotc, let me know if you need any help with wood elf lore, or finding the wood elven city. :)

Damn you got me

Actually, I'm Taiwanese.

Updated.

Malin was pro-nature and pro-druidism long before I touched elven lore. Everything I'd seen, from the word altar story, to the fact his adopted god-daughter was a druidic dragon (all pre-existing lore before I touched it) to the fact that several accounts paint ancient Malinor to be very in sync with nature, points to this fact. So please take off your tinfoil hat and stop accusing me of deliberately trying to "shape" Malin into anything. The wood elves, if you read the extended lore more carefully, were born of extremist religious fervour. They took Malin and old Malinor's respect for nature and turned it into fierce worship (as a reflex response to the divergence of the high and dark elves). I believe I've made it pretty clear that they believed they were following the "true way" of Malin, but in reality had warped his teachings into something it never truly was, something far more extreme and doctrinal than Malin ever had been, regarding religion. I am not sure how that is me trying to validate my IC views via OOC means when I wrote that my playerbase's culture is a literal bastardization/far divergence of Malin. They went from chill elves who lived in tree palaces and respected the wild, to full on savage tribals. Furthermore I have thoroughly checked in with the prominent members of the high and dark elves when writing their lore and neither had an issue with how Malin and his original kingdom were portrayed. It has ALWAYS been a staple of high elven lore that the original high elves were at odds with the OG elves, culturally and doctrinally. In fact, the original lore had Malin actually go ahead and order the golden pools destroyed. So, I think if anything, I toned it down a little. As for the dark elves, as long as their ancestral worship and shamanism were worked in, they were happy. They knew from the start they were a divergent subrace, and there needed to be an 'original' culture for them to have diverged from. For more information, see the following:

((This lore has no bearing on how current high elves are supposed to RP their characters, but instead serve as a foundation to draw upon for those whose RP heavily depends upon having a culture to sustain them. Additionally, only the main event of each chapter is essential, all other details are open to change and adapt as future lore filters in from other people)) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ibj6Q0YQ20 HISTORY OF THE AHERAL “We are the blessed, one would be delusional to deny it. We did not find the pools, they chose us. They ascended us. We have achieve a state of body and mind that outsiders can only dream of. Our mother tells us we have achieved perfection. I say she is wrong! Perfection is a lie. Will we shackle ourselves in tradition like our savage cousins of the woodlands and caves, or will we harness our true potential? Maehr’sae hiylun’ehya… we could be so much more…” ~Lomal of the Altar Chapter 1 - Iblees’ War Chapter 2 - Magics of Old Malinor Chapter 3 - Rise of Larihei Chapter 4 - elCihi’thilln Chapter 5 - Lomal and the Altar of Tayl Chapter 6 - Trial by Fire: A Schism Forms Chapter 7 - Crimson and Silver Chapter 8 - Portal to a New Beginning Chapter 9 - The Paths Split Chapter 1 - Iblees’ War The history of the mali’aheral, like all elves, begins in a fiery war which consumed the known world. In ancient times, while the four brothers were young, the archdaemon Iblees rose to power and sought to bend the mortal realm to his desire. The elves were a distinct race at this time, lithe and pointy eared, but it would be a long time before they developed any characteristic sub-racial features or even the infertility and long life they were known for today. During the great war, the elves were merely the sons and daughters of Malin, and had the features to prove it. As the war progressed, Iblees attacked on all fronts, isolating the four brothers. Malin and his children were pushed back to a few strongholds on what would become the isles of Axios. Slowly the war turned back into the favour of the elves. Taynei’Hiylu, the green dragon and ward of Malin pushed away much of the archdaemons’ blighted undead army. But Taynei was soon sealed away to prevent any risk of the dragaar being corrupted and turned against the forces of the living. Enter Larihei, trusted advisor of Malin. A veritable beauty, her skin was pale and smooth, her eyes an azure blue and her hair a gleaming silver- a trait very few elves possessed at the time. Yet beauty did not define her. In peace, she had been a scholar, a teacher and a pioneer of knowledge. In war, she had become a master of espionage. She was not a great warrior, but undeniably, her skill in the silver tongue, her innovations and her information behind enemy lines played a crucial role in Malin’s Children pushing back the Ibleesian horde. The Archdaemon’s forces would be driven off of Axios, and Malin would rejoin his brothers on Aegis to end them for good. Though, at a cost. “Malin, I curse you with sterility, you and your kin shall forever lack the children they need. May your forest halls forever be silent, and your hearts heavy with sadness.” The elves had not undergone drastic physical change like the dwarves or the orcs had, but Iblees’ final curse had hit them hard. In the years after the war, many a mother lamented, even took their own life due to having to look into the eyes of their stillborn child. Sorrow ran rampant among the newly long-lived, but infertile elves. However, Malin, forefather of the elves, pushed on. The war had cost him the lives of many of his people, and of many unborn children in the years to come. But he would bring his kin into a golden age. The elves- now a long-lived yet infertile people, were his to lead. In this newfound era of peace, on the lands which would become Axios, he would build his kingdom. Chapter 2 - Magics of Old Malinor The isles of Axios, the lands which had one been a fierce battleground against iblees, became Malin’s kingdom. He had chosen this land to become the home of his kin after the children of his brother Krug became too warlike to coexist with, and Urguan’s spawn too greedy to live among. Malin set to building his kingdom. Marvelous cities which would have been alien to the eyes of men and dwarves, great halls hidden deep in the thickest forests, homes which weaved their ways seamlessly into the trees, built perfectly to co-exist with the wild, not replacing it, but becoming a part of it. The greatest settlement of Malinor was on the isle of Malin itself, an island named by the forefathers’ children as well. The city built upon this center isle of Axios was more magnificent than any other, though its name has been lost to time. It was there Malin’s throne lay, in the trunk of the eldest elder tree. It was there he ruled his people from. Larihei had been bestowed many titles and honours by the Elven Forefather given her role in the bloody war and her part in the foundation of his Kingdom. Yet, she refused them all. Discarding any pomp and ceremony, she quietly returned to the places she loved most. Her laboratory, and her library. Indeed, Larihei dedicated vast amounts of resources and time to accumulating the largest pool of knowledge in all of Old Malinor. Elves would come miles for the chance to browse through the thousands of tomes painstakingly collected and written by the silver elf and her followers. But, only those who brought knowledge of value to the library’s gates in offering would be allowed inside. Things progressed peacefully for years to come. Yet soon, all would not be well in the ancient Kingdom of the Elves. Druidism played a heavy role in elven society. Malin himself was said to convene with the Aspects of nature themselves, and leaned heavily on the counsel given to him by the most elder of elven Archdruids. A faction of these Archdruids, the Taynei’Sil, reported the discovery of a new form of magics. Powers harnessed by words alone, imbued with the power of an altar from the realm of the Fae. An altar which granted its user the power to control all with the true name of all things. Malin approved of this power when it was first presented to him. The war with Iblees was fresh in his memory and fae magics with the power to harness the power of entire ecosystems was an advantage he needed to prevent such a travesty from happening again. Larihei saw it differently. The silver elf saw the potential disaster that artifacts with such power could bring. And thus, she opposed it. Unsuccessfully. Larihei had influence, but not that which matched the venerability of old Malinor’s Archdruids. Her words fell on deaf ears, and her warnings went unheard. That is, until the forest lashed out. True names and the power of the Fae were things that mortals were not meant to tamper with. Natural energies beyond what the Aspects saw fit to bestow on the races of elves and men. This was proven true with the Taynei’Sil, attempting to control the Word Altar they’d discovered, set off a chain of events that went out of control, a chain of events they could not undo. The altar went haywire, and a good chunk of the forests on the isle of Malin turned feral. Plantlife overgrowing rapidly, both flora and fauna becoming vicious and man-eating, then rotting into husks on land, and flotsam in the sea. Malin was horrified, and promptly outlawed the word altars. They would be buried deep beneath the earth in the most isolated of crevices in his Kingdom, wiped from the memories of elven kind. Larihei was not given credit for her warning and foresight. Uncaring as usual, she returned to her library to resume her pursuit of knowledge. Chapter 3 - Rise of Larihei “For all I’ve done for our people, you would censor me, stifle me. Put a gag on my achievements. I ask for no praise, no reward, and no titles. I seek only to better my people, yet you insist on holding us back. For how long, a thousand years, ten thousand?” ~Larihei, Advisor to Malin Old Malinor was stagnant. Tradition and the status quo ruled the day. The elves were content to dwell in their forests, pay respects to the spirit of the wild, and live in peace. But not all were willing to submit themselves to this mundanity. Larihei and her inner circle had been busy. Deep within the depths of her great library they experimented, away from the public eye. It was this time that she and her followers had become enamoured with the Void. The existence of this plain of existence where all was everything and everything was nothing was not new to the elves. However, its potential was largely unused, as Old Malinorians preferred the familiar powers that the spirits of nature granted. Within the bowels of the Library, the first true voidal casters emerged among the elves. First the evocations, harnessing the powers of wind, fire, water and air. Then, the alternationists, and the translocationists. The void was powerful. Yet, Larihei was careful. Science and progress was the word of the day. Advancement was incremental. Always controlled, always watched. She was determined not to repeat the mistakes of the Archdruids who’d tampered so carelessly with powers they didn’t understand. Her efforts would pay off. And within decades, few could match the arcane prowess of her and her supporters. Their innovations brought new modern changes to the elven lifestyle. Enchanted appliances enhanced daily life, translocation made transportation that much easier, and even things as simple as a voidal fireworks show delighted children. Yet, it made many uneasy. The forefather himself was among the concerned. The ability to channel power from another realm of existence was sure to have long-term, unproven effects. As such, he placed an official order down for Larihei and her followers to cease and desist. She refused. Larihei had served for centuries under Malin and his Kingdom. She had asked for no praise, nor reward. In return, her counsel had been ignored and her progress had been stifled. Disobeying the orders of her king, she continued, changing only to lead her people deep into caverns beneath the earth to continue their studies. It was in these caverns that she found something extraordinary. Some would call it destiny. That it was no coincidence she was drawn to it. Some would say that her affinity to the void created a natural connection between her and it, which led her to it. Either way, what Larihei discovered deep under the earth of Old Malinor were none other than the fabled golden pools of old. Intoxicating, addicting and above all else, soothing. Larihei began to bathe. It took years before she noticed any discernible change. Soon enough though, she realized she was altering. Her ears grew longer. Her body taller. Her eyes bluer. Her hair, though always had been silver, had begun to gleam. Her followers would notice the same happening to them. Furthermore, their arcane prowess seemed only to increase with exposure to the mysterious cavernous pools. Bit by bit, and piece by piece, Larihei’s grand library and it's contents were moved into the caves. For now, they were out of the public eye. And with their influence no longer so heavy on the meat of old Malinorian society, Malin cast a blind eye to their goings on. In hindsight, likely a mistake. As the following years would lead to the birth of a race- the Mali’aheral. Chapter 4 - elCihi’thilln As centuries passed, more and more were caught in the allure of the silver maiden living in exile in caves of golden ichor. Rumour spread fast from the forest floor to the high canopies of Malinor. Soon, what began as only a few became many who sought a better life for themselves. Who sought beauty and enhancement, who became estranged with Malin’s traditions and enamoured with the prospect of arcane and scientific power, as well as the hidden knowledge of the world kept from them out of fear. These elves searched far and wide for Larihei’s coven. Many found her. Each one who appeared at the gates of the golden pools, Larihei welcomed, and granted them the right to bathe. This did not bode well for many. The Elves of old Malinor noticed many of their brothers, sisters and friends returning paler, fairer, and taller. A rift grew between those who bathed and dabbled in the arcane, and those who stuck to the old way. In isolated cases, ethnic violence erupted. The homes of mali’aheral were torched, and in return the followers of Larihei would equal acts of vandalism. Tensions had reached a boiling point. The elven world looked to Malin, the forefather, to put out the flames. But Malin disappeared. Larihei knew that now was the time to act, for if she didn’t, bloodshed would come to the elves. For the first time in many years, she emerged publicly out of her caves. Attended by a large contingent of silver haired mages and scholars, she marched right into the center of the heart of Malinor and declared her intent: an exodus of the Thilln. Almost immediately, all the mali’aheral who had spent the last centuries bathing and perfecting their themselves in the golden pools answered the call. The old kingdom was dead, Malin’s dissapearance was the last straw. They had fulfilled their destiny and followed Larihei’s blessed leadership to achieve the purest form elfkind could achieve. Now it was time to leave, and create an ideal elven nation. One not afraid of progress, of the unknown, of maehr’sae hiylun’ehya. Larihei led her followers into the frontier of the far west. On the seaswept cliffs of western Tahn, elCihi’thilln was founded. The Silver City. Capital of the newly christened Haelun’or. The motherland, named in part after the Silver Maiden who had led them to this promised land, Larihei- the mother of all Mali’thilln. Elcihi’Thilln came to be a jewel that elfkind had never seen before. Its name was apt. Its most notable feature was its skyline. Towering silver spires competed with one another in height as they reached for the sky. Buildings made of crystal with curved roofs shaped like a fairy’s wings. The mali’aheral believed in beauty, and as such their home was carved so delicately you could even assume a gentle breeze could blow it all away. Not so, however, as the greatest arcanists of the silver elves would keep their city protected with powerful wards. The tallest of spires hosted one of two things. Memorials for honoured dead- usually in the form of murals and busts to which the living could pay their respects, and private collections of knowledge, owned by the most venerated of aristocrats. Indeed, Haelun’or was a meritocracy. Larihei herself stood at the top of the pyramid as the most venerated, a Maheral. Below her were a court of mages, scholars and scientists. Their position and influence within Elcihi’thilln depended in the wealth of knowledge they could offer to the state, and the innovations they provided. During this time, the forefathers of long lasting family lines established themselves- known names such as Sullas, Izalith, Thar, and Acal’aelor. Larihei herself was content to let her court argue and bicker among themselves over who was the most prodigious inventor or greatest mage, intervening occasionally to maintain the peace or give an executive order. She was still more scholar than leader. To say that ancient mali’aheral society could be chaotic and dysfunctional was something of an understatement. But despite their pride and their feverish desire for advancement and scholarly recognition, an order kept their society together: maehr’sae hiylun’ehya. Health and progress. All silver elves knew that the state must survive in order for their way of life to survive, and that all their powers and innovations must go to the community. Many ancient historians would deem the centuries following the founding of Elcihi’thilln to be the mali’aheral’s first and only true golden age. They would perhaps be right, as after centuries of flourishing, trouble would soon brew within the picturesque silver towers. Chapter 5 - Lomal and the Altar of Tayl The meritocracy of ancient Haelun’or could be harsh and unforgiving. As one Lomal Naeri’onn would soon learn. The young mali’aheral was barely past his first century, and like his father before him, aspired to be a powerful arcanist and a scholar, to leave his mark on the maehr’sae hiylun’ehya. Lomal had trained in the arcane arts, history and sciences from a very young age. He’d proven himself a capable enchanter and become a learned man. Considering himself easily the equal of any other in his field, he sought out to rise up in the ranks of the court of the silver city. Yet, the found the reality to be different than what he’d expected. The Elders and the highest standing advisors and servants of Larihei saw Lomal as little more than a child. Unproven, and worse yet, arrogant to assume he could stand in their shadow. Frustrated, Lomal returned to his laboratory. As the years went by, he would create more and more outrageous inventions. Each one more desperate than the last to gain him the recognition he needed to rise in Larihei’s court. Each one failed, and after each encounter the elder Scholars looked down upon him, more and more, as a laughing stock. It was only when his brash experiments led to the death of two that his failures came to a head. What was meant to be an enhanced ward against basic evocations, when presented to the court of advisors, went haywire. Two elders were killed. Accidents like this were rare, and the entirety of Elcihi’thilln was shocked. Larihei herself descended down from her private tower to issue a personal exile upon the young Lomal, for surely such carelessness had no place in the maehr’sae hiylun’ehya. The young exile left the silver city in disgrace, nursing his smoldering hatred and his wounded pride. His setback had not dampened his drive, only changed his goal. He would learn patience, and in time, take vengeance on Larihei and her pompous followers, who had done nothing but scorn him since the day he was born. For a year, Lomal wandered, seeking the key to his success. It was on the first day of the Deep Cold, sleuthing through the timeless ancient forests of Malin’s old heartlands, that he found it. Deep beneath the earth, an ancient altar long hidden away by the elven forefather. Guarding the forbidden word altar was an ancient Ent. A tree lord, created long ago by druidic followers of Malin to ensure that none would dare attempt reawaken the altar’s cursed power. The fight that ensued was fierce, and perilous. But in the end, the roaring flames of the void, channeled with power that only wounded youth could manage, won the day. The ancient guardian of the wild collapsed in pain, smoldering, then burnt away. Lomal placed his hands upon the altar, he felt power surging through it. Yet, it was alien to him, beyond his control. The words whispered to him when he connected himself to the stony surface were so familiar, yet alien. In despair, the vengeful young mali’thilln knew that he alone would never have the power to channel the magics of the ancients. Enter the intervention of the divine. Daemons were observant and omnipresent beings, always seeking for opportunities to increase their influence in the mortal realm in competition with the many other deities they shared this plain with. One such Daemon was Tayl, a trickster of a deity and one who desired mortals to do his will. As such, he took the form of a ghost and appeared before Lomal. But, not just any ghost- the ghost of the elven forefather himself, Malin. ‘Malin’s Ghost’ shocked Lomal, who appeared stunned beyond belief. But only until the spectral presence explained his desire. Lomal would serve him, the spirit of his people’s king, and in return he would be granted full control over the Word Altar. The power to bend nature to his will. Furthermore, the powers of the word altar would be enhanced. Not only would he know the true names of flora and fauna, but the altar would also give him the true names of descendents- elves. Naturally, the prideful youth, desperate for the power he needed to take his revenge, and completely taken in by the deceitful Daemon’s disguise, accepted this devil’s bargain. Lomal returned to the great gates of Elcihi’thilln. Immediately he was received by a platoon of elite Sillumir, mali’aheral soldiers who guarded the silver city from the many monsters, plagues and savage wood elven seeds which roamed the primal wilds of Ancient Axios. Lomal knew he had to be smart. His newfound powers made him very formidable, but a full frontal assault upon the silver city was still too much to handle, given the old master scholars and their great magics. No, force was not the way to win. To do that, he would destroy Larihei by manipulating the very system she had created. Lomal spread his arms before the platoon, and his body began to glow. Ancient elven runes appearing in the forms of wisps of light began to circle around his body. One of the Sillumir gasped, then fell to his knees. His body began to wither, his skin shriveling up like a grape in the sun. He cocooned, and with a last ragged gasp, became a husk. The magic imbued upon Lomal by the word altar that Tayl had altered was fierce, and he now had the capacity to channel it to assume full control over plant, animal, and elf. He knew the true names of all. Lomal stared down the horrified Sillumir, and made a simple, calm request: Grant me an audience with Larihei. Chapter 6 - Trial by Fire: A Schism Forms “Many of you do not know me, I am Lomal. I am the shepherd of our people’s destiny. The spirit of our great father spoke to me. He bestowed upon me great gifts, you see the power I wield now. It is a power all of you can own, can be. Join me, and we can right the wrongs of Larihei and unlock our people’s true potential.” “You are a fraud, Lomal Naeri’onn, and foolish to believe yourself to be a prophet. You have been taken in by a trickster, a daemon. Nothing more. We are not slaves to the whims of deities. We are mali’thilln. We forge our own destiny. Leave this place, and let your newfound curse consume you.” “If you call me a liar, then I submit myself to trial by fire. Let the flames consume me, and when I emerged unburnt, let the whole world know that I am the one who will light our path.” ~Exchange Between Lomal and Larihei in the Great Silver Court They stood in the great silver court. Larihei upon her upon a high seat she loathed to call a throne, and Lomal in the center of the room, staring up at the mother of his people, someone he had once considered larger than life. Everyone who was anyone was watching. The highest standing advisors, the wisest scholars and the greatest mages. All staring down the young high elf with passion in his eyes, who not long ago they had exiled. Lomal told the truth, as he knew it. The ghost of Malin had spoken to him. The forefather himself. The King’s Spirit had ascended to godhood, had given him a great power, and bestowed upon him a destiny. That destiny was to bring the high elven people back under the rule of their one true king, the one true ruler of all of elfkind. In return, they would ascend further than they ever had before, achieving physical and mental prowess beyond their dreams. Larihei and many of the court would immediately dismiss these claims. And thus, Lomal demanded a trial by fire to prove himself. First, he demanded the great wizards of the Silver Hall examine his body for any arcane wards, charms or any other protections. There were none. In terms of protection, he was entirely bare. Then, he invited the most powerful pyromancers present to summon the hottest voidal flame they could possibly conjure, and insisted they incinerate him to a crisp. And thus, they tried. A great pillar of flame erupted around Lomal, and entirely consumed his body. The flames scorched with such intense heat that even the hardiest of metals could be melted. Yet when they subsided, Lomal stood there, still as a rock. Unburnt. Unwavering. He spoke his ultimatum to the stunned crowd. All those who sought to enhance themselves and ascend unto powers previously undreamed of could follow him. He would go to the highest spire in Elcihi’thilln, and await any new followers there. An uproar erupted in the court. Lomal was a criminal, a murderer. He could not get away with his crimes, let alone invite the entire Silver Council to treason. But then, something extraordinary happened. Slowly, a few stood. Among them, great sorcerers, researchers and scientists. They emerged from their high perches from which they had once looked down at the young Lomal, and descended down, following him out of the court. Their intention was clear. They would answer the shepherd’s call. Lomal now had a following, one with which he could orchestrate his revenge on Larihei and fulfill his destiny, his influence was growing. A schism had formed in Elcihi’thilln. Chapter 7 - Crimson and Silver The city was divided. From district to district. Street to street. Tower to tower. Some supported Lomal, who had taken the title of Elannil’Ilum - the guiding light. His followers referred to themselves as Elsil’Parir. The sword of the harbinger. Some stayed true to their Maheral, Larihei, mother of mali’thilln. A great wall was erected in the west wing of the city by Elsil’Parir, where only those loyal to Lomal could enter. There, they conducted their mutations. The Altar had since been moved into Elcihi’thilln. It was now settled within the top of the high spire that Lomal had turned into his base of operations. Each day, a single elf was chosen to ascend to the top to receive an audience with Lomal. Upon meeting, the Elannil’Ilum would speak the elf’s true name, revealed to him by the cursed magics of the altar imbued with the power of Tayl, bestowing upon them bodily alterations. Some received the power to breath under the water. Some sprouted feathers and learned to glide. Some, like Lomal, learned to resist the hottest of flames. Larihei’s followers had shored up as well. They prepared their defenses, utilizing the best of their best when it came to voidal masters and enchanters. The lion’s share of Elcihi’thilln still belonged to them, and they were prepared to defend their way of life if need be from these usurpers. Given the circumstance, one would think that a long and bloody war was soon to break out. Yet, this was not the case. The nature of the Mali’thilln, whether beset by the power of the word altar or a loyal follower of Larihei, was not warlike. And thus, the conflict stagnated. For years, little happened. At least on the surface of things. Anyone looking deeper could see a war, but not one of swords and battlefields, but one of intrigue and subtle sorcery. Lines were drawn in the proverbial sand. The families of Acal’Alor, Thar, Sullas and many others threw their support behind Larihei and began seeking to undermine the influence of Lomal. What followed was a constant back and forth of seductions, power-plays, speeches, songs and daring escapades of espionage conducted on both sides, across either side of the great wall which divided elCihi’thilln. Many incidents occured, although only a few were well recorded: el’lenniel lae kheliyat - The Song that Shattered an Image Musicians and those who followed the bardic rite were common among the ancient Haelun’orians, who considered music to be one of the patron arts of the maehr’sae hiylun’ehya. However, during the great stand-off between Larihei and Lomal, bards developed a much more sinister role. One such bard was Larebel Ikurnamon, known as the best. A meister of the harp, violin and vocals. Tasked by Larihei herself, she proceeded to pour her best work into composing a melody that would break hearts and bring the most stoic of mali’aheral to tears. More importantly, this song viciously debased and slandered Lomal. It worked. The tune, titled el’lenniel lae kheliyah (The Melody of His Inner Darkness) was a masterpiece of both prose and verse. It told a tale of Lomal’s failed inventions. His arrogance and his woe. It embellished details of his personal life, sexual habits and alleged degeneracy, and called upon those loyal to the maehr’sae hiylun’ehya to return to the right side of the wall. Many influential archmages and dignitaries under Lomal’s thumb would cross back over, abandoning his cause. Of course, the poet Larebel would soon be embroiled in a scandal of her own as her affair with a minor of only thirty years was exposed. A female minor. Of course, some reported that a well known illusionist had been skulking about her home days prior to this. An illusionist baring scales on his flesh, the kind that could only be granted to him by Lomal’s word altar… The Ball of the Century Lomal had certainly proved his ability to win over a crowd with showmanship. And thus, recovering from the scandal of el’lenniel kae kheliyat, decided he would strike back not with more slander, but with the grandest display of his lavishness and power that he could possibly conjure: a great party. A grand hall was built for the sake of this upcoming ball. A huge, ornate court embellished with towering spirals and great impressionist statues, designed to gleam in an otherworldly manner in the moonlight. All were given invitations to the great ceremony that was to come. All except Larihei. The Maheral was infuriated, yet her hands were tied. If she ordered her councillors not to attend she would appear petty and overbaring, and perhaps incite open conflict. She had no choice but to watch her own people attend a display of Lomal’s power. The ball was all it had been marketed to be. It lasted for seven days and seven nights. An endless display of voidal mastery, fireworks of colours that many had never even heard of. Countless displays of the magically altered prowess of those who Lomal had ‘enhanced’ with the word altar’s power. Many of Larihei’s followers were swayed that day, opting to stay on Lomal’s side of the wall and submit themselves to his modification. The Great Debate That Never Was Finally, things came to a head. Trying to bring an end to this conflict once and for all, Larihei called upon Lomal to neutral territory, atop the elCihi’thilln wall itself, for a grand debate. There they would finally meet each other head to head and debate on their views, face to face. The event was made known to all, and on the last day of the deep cold, at the cusp of the turning point, the two met. On top of the wall. Hundreds of thousands of followers from either side attending to support the Maheral, or the Shepherd of the Altar. Only the debate would never begin. An arrow inlaid with silver pierced through Larihei’s rib, dangerously close to her heart. She fell off the edge of the wall, into a crowd of her horrified supporters. Pandemonium broke out. Some of Larihei’s faithful would quickly carry off the dying Maheral as the rest would charge the wall, ancient Haelun’ors many mages charging up their spells to bring back the warded surface which divided them from the usurpers of the word altar. Lomal himself had retreated into the safety of his own crowd. Hundred died on both sides in the ensuing skirmish. Chapter 8 - Portal to a New Beginning Larihei was safe. Medicine and healing was among the many wondrous advances of the mali’thilln. Yet the question remained, who had shot the Maheral? And why with such a basic and conventional method as an arrow? Many didn’t care. Many wanted vengeance, to end the war with the usurper and his mutants once and for all, and put things back to the way they were. They did not expect Lomal to make the first strike. The wards of the great wall had been broken. Scores of mutant elves poured through from Lomal’s section of Elcihi’thilln, finally in their full forms. Screeching like hawks and hissing like snakes, they channeled their almost grotesque modifications and stormed the homes of any influential mali’thilln loyal to Larihei, slaughtering whoever they could find. It caught the loyalists entirely by surprise, and left them reeling. Larihei ordered a retreat. The Sillumir fought bravely, stalwart in their defense against the hordes of Lomal and their power infused by the Daemon and the Altar. Street by street, block by block, tower to tower they were slowly driven back. Although many more would have died if not for their brave defense. Eventually, those loyal to Larihei were pushed out of the very city itself. They fled, through the plains of western Tahn and into the deep woods. It was there they sought the counsel of their Maheral. But Larihei was nowhere to be found. It seemed the mother of thilln had disappeared into the woods. No voidal tracking could pin her location nor could any other method. She was gone. Well and truly, to the despair of her followers, of whom Lomal’s mutants were quickly encroaching on. So, they continued to flee. Deeper and deeper into the primal and untamed ancient wilderness, until they found something extraordinary. A gateway to another world. Erected in the middle of the wild with no explanation as to how it got there, it stood tall. A pillar of marble with a beam of light shooting far into the sky, pulsing with intense magics that none could explain. To Larihei’s followers, the explanation was simple. This was Larihei’s doing. She had not run, she had left this here for her people to escape to a new promised land. And so, they leapt through the portal, thousands upon thousands of elves making a mass exodus. A land they had lived in for millenia, gone in mere moments. When Lomal and his mutants arrived upon the scene, they found the portal dead. Deactivated. Larihei, and what was left of the pure, untarnished Mali’thilln were gone from this world. Yet, some had stayed. A scant few, the bravest of battlemages and Sillumir warriors, determined to leave their family and friends behind forever, for one purpose- to enact revenge. They called themselves the Vihai. For Lomal, it seemed he had everything he wanted. Elcihi’thilln was in ruins, devastated by the fighting. Larihei and her court were gone. He had won. And now he had all the power in the world. Or, so he thought. A devil’s bargain is one that never ends well, and as such, the very one who struck it with him reappeared. This time, with no disguise. Tayl manifested before Lomal, who ever since his victory had spent all his days up in his tower with his beloved word altar, never eating or sleeping. The Daemon revealed himself for who he truly was, and now that he had fulfilled his end of the bargain, he demanded to reap his end of the agreement. Lomal was to submit himself. Lomal refused. What had once been a youthful, ambitious mali’thilln with passion in his eyes was now a husk. The altar had given him the power to change himself, and others, but had torn out his soul. He was no longer the elf he was. But what he had not forgotten was his pride. He had all the power in the world. He owed this Daemon nothing. He was Lomal, the shepherd of the thilln. He was destiny. He was wrong. Tayl realized the defiance of the arrogant mortal he had struck a bargain with, and made his choice. The power he imbued into the word altar was erased away. Lomal’s connection to it severed. And with that, the Daemon left the mortal plane to let all Lomal had built crumble. Without the daemon’s power infused into the altar, the mutated elves who had depended on it lost control of their minds. Some turned on others, going feral. Some simply isolated themselves deeply and descended into madness. Thus, the Vihai struck. They poured back into the city that had once been theirs. They blasted the mutants on the streets where they saw them raving like madmen. They snuck into the homes where they hid, and slit their throats. They purged the land clean, and when their job was done, they left. It is unknown if they were ever capable of rejoining their brothers and sisters through the portal they’d escaped through. Lomal himself was never found. His fate remains unknown to this day. Chapter 9 - The Paths are Split For those who’d made the mass exodus through the dimensional portal, all was not well. A disturbance had ripped through the connection, and the mali’aheral flying through the space between worlds were torn in two. It is unknown why this happened. Some claim that the magics Larihei had used to prepare the portal for her people had failed her. Some claimed that a malicious Daemon had interfered. Whatever the cause, the result was the same. Half of the mali’thilln rematerialized in a strange new world, an untamed world. Half of the mali’thilln were thrown violently unto the beaches of Aegis. A land familiar to their forefather Malin. Larihei herself was in neither. She was nowhere to be found. Those who landed in Aegis would consolidate themselves and travel far. For years they wandered as nationless refugees, until they came upon Laurelin. Laurelin was a city built in the style of the elves of old, capital of a nation named after the first Kingdom of the forefather himself, Malinor. These wayward high elves would be welcomed into Laurelin, and find for themselves a new life there. They would lend their philosophy and magics into the culture of the new Malinor, and in time, merge and assimilate. Those who landed in the other, strange and wild land would remain closer to their heritage. They soon came to realize they were pioneers in this world. They would erect a new city, and christen it Elcihi’thilln, just like the old one they had lost in old Axios. These mali’thilln remained true to Larihei’s memory. They remembered the horrors of Lomal and the word altar, and enforced the maehr’sae hiylun’ehya fervently. Enforcing strict purity of body and mind. Centuries later, their civilization would collapse. No one knows how or why, but it was likely fated as destiny. For when the Elves of Aegis fled from their homes following Iblees’ resurrection, they came to this land. A land they called Asulon. And they found nothing but silver ruins. It was then that the Aegisian high elves, the descendents of those few mali’thilln that had been separated from their kin during their escape from the portal many years ago, rediscovered their ancestral culture and way of life. They would inhabit the ruins of their ill-fated kin that they’d been separated from. After so long, the mali’aheral were back. For silver will rise and silver will fall, but nothing is gone forever. OOC: This lore was written in conjuction with many high elven RPers and also designed to fit the already pre-existing (but fairly open-ended) high elven lore. It is not a static thing, and is completely open to changes and additions as suggested to me by high elven RPers. This lore will not be pushed into implementation if there are any major issues the high elven playerbase itself has with the lore, although it has been written to accomodate them to the best of my ability. Credits to all who aided with information/suggestions: Yuln BrandNewKitten Parion Mithradites Delmodan

Courland was a kingdom in Lithuania Metz is a city in France and Lorraine a region in France Savoie is also a region in France that borders Italy in the Alps Johannesburg is the capital of South Africa although it's naming scheme was drawn directly from HRE influences The Rurics of norland probably come from the ruricid dynasty that founded the kievan rus Haria is a clear fantasy variant of the Islamic golden age Everything is based off of something in the real world, or from another medium of fantasy, whether it be Asian or Western

I was unaware there were mythical Shinobi and Yokai monsters preying on people in Japan. It's not Japan. If it was, it would be called Japan and the land would be shaped like Japan IRL. By what other standards do you judge it? The fact that the people there look like, wear similar clothes and have similar titles to what existed in Feudal Japan? By that logic, most major fantasy worlds are direct copies of Europe, and we rarely criticize people for creating a setting like that.

You'd have a hard time finding any form of fictional world that isn't based off of the mythology and culture of some form of real world equivalent. Human beings relate to what is familiar to them, and nothing is truly 100% original

Hidden Kingdom of Magara’lin Context Lore The mountains of Ceru are a cold, inhospitable place. The peaks compete amongst themselves to see which jagged, snow-capped rock face can reach closest to the moon. Little can grow on these towering mounds, and time has eroded away what once revealed the gateway of the secret world that resides in deep cavern halls beneath them… Origin The city was once known as Magara’lin, the land of caves. Founded by Veluluai after her exile to the cold wastes of Ceru, it flourished for millenia during the ancient history of Axios as the homeland and refuge of the Dark Elven people. Over the centuries, the Mali’ker expanded deeper and deeper into the mountains, discovering vast underground lakes and caverns in which they built their subterranean homes. Grand arenas were built to house lavish spectacles involving wild cave beasts and austere temples were erected, dedicated to Luara- the spirit of the moon. However, this age of prosperity was not to last. Alienated by the policies of servitude his mother held towards the Moon Spirit, Azul, the firstborn son of Luara poisoned the Dark Elven Matriarch. This began a war that spanned decades and tore Magara’lin asunder. Thousands upon thousands died in the brutal house-to-house fighting that occured hundreds of feet below where the sun could shine. The Vindicators of Veluluai would eventually capture Azul and hammer and his followers into submission. Azul was presented to the moon spirit Luara, who cursed him with eternal life and beast-like insanity. He was chained deep in the core of the mountains, where he still is, screaming and foaming at the mouth as he attempts to escape his bonds as he has done for a thousand years. All who followed Azul were exiled from Magara’lin. Those who remained decided that the land was cursed, in falling out of favour with the Moon, and with Veluluai no longer there to guide them, the Mali’ker led an exodus from the cavern kingdom to join their woodland kin above-ground in far off Aegis. Magara’lin was abandoned, and soon all memory of it faded away. It is a ruin now, hidden away deep beneath the earth where none of Axio’s current inhabitants know of its existence. Locations Once the voices of haggling merchants echoed across the great halls and lamps of moonlight essense illuminated even the most remote corners of the subterranean kingdom. No longer. Magara’lin has fallen into disrepair, but in doing so has taken on a quieter, eerie beauty. Some areas remain as they were before the fall, as beautiful as ever. Lake of Luara This body of water is the largest of its kind beneath the surface. A huge subterranean lake with several tributary cavern valley rivers that empty out in its basin. For all of Veluluai’s reign, this reservoir served as the main source of water for the many mali’ker inhabitants of Magara’lin. Towering aqueducts that stretched for miles upon miles were built to carry water from Luara’s lake to the homes of dark elves throughout the land. Naturally, with the caverns abandoned, those aqueducts have fallen into disrepair and have been consumed by the overgrowth of fungi and vegetation. Nature has reclaimed the lake, its shorelines have become blanketed in a vibrant moss that blooms in deep reds, golds and oranges. When reflected off the water, it can be the closest thing the deep underground knows to a sunset. Sulsiru Fields Fungi grows rapidly and frequently inside caves, and within the realm of Magara’lin there existed many different species of them. When the mali’ker first began to settle the deep, they began cultivate the land and selectively plant the mushroom species that bore the most consuming, among other uses. The result were huge fields of fungi farms, with Mushrooms as big as trees or small as bugs blooming for miles in the cavernous depths, dark elven farmers tending to them meticulously. In the centuries following the exodus, with no farmers left to tend to them, the fungi have grown wilder and untamed. Some species have mutated wildly, and the result are vast fields filled with vibrant and alien-like fungal overgrowth. The Sulsiru fields can be found all over what was once Magara’lin, in all bewildering shapes and sizes. Some mushrooms emit a bright eerie glow, lighting the way for any would-be explorers. Palace of Veluluai Deep in the cliffside of a chasm in the heart of Magara’lins wide, winding caves, the Palace of Veluluai lies nestled. In its heyday, the grand palace was the centre of governance for all of Magara’lin and dark elf kind, as well as the home of Veluluai and her family. From atop the moonlit throne, Veluluai ruled her people wisely, ensuring her nation grew, and that the many ancient clans did not consume one another in their squabbles. The palace’s Austere beauty has not been affected by centuries of abandonment, and although its halls are overgrown or flooded, and some pillars crumbled, the palace still stands strong, stubbornly refusing to erode away with time. A testament to the will of the dark elven people, and the glory that was once their homeland. Temple of the Moon Magara’lin was indeed deep underneath the mountains. However, there were still pockets in which light could filter in from the surface. Specifically, moonlight. It was here that the mali’ker built their grand temple, a house of prayer dedicated to Luara, the spirit of the moon. For the dark elves were a race that had been cursed with instability of the mind, and it was only their service to the moon spirit and her blessing in return that staved this off. The temple was built directly under a hole in the cavern roof which revealed a glimpse of the surface. It had an open roof, so moonlight could filter directly onto the central dias built in the middle of the building’s grand courtyard. Here mali’ker would kneel and pray to Luara while basking in the glow of the moon, its light cleansing the dark elves from the plagues of insanity. Like everything else, it has been long abandoned. The temple is in disrepair, and the hole to the surface above has been caved in and blocked. Moonlight has not shone its rays on Luara’s faithful for a millenia now. Flora and Fauna The era of Mali’ker dominance inside the cavern depths is over, and the torch has been passed back to nature. Many different forms of life inhabit the abandoned halls and mossy caves of the ancient dark elven homeland. From apex predators to plant life to the smallest of insect, these are what make up the circle of life within the deep. The Talar’onn The Talar’onn are reptilian hunters that prowl mainly in the more open areas of Magara’lin. As hinted at by their name in the ancient tongue, which means ‘born of stone’, the Talar’onn have a thick hide which is nearly impossible to penetrate. They are mainly herbivores, feeding on the moss and algae around Magara’lins subterranean lakes. Before the exodus, they were commonly tamed and used as mounts by the dark elves. The Dry Octopus The Dry Octopus is a predatory creature that inhabit the deepest crevices and darkest burrows. This beast hunts larger prey such as the Talar’onn, among others, and sucks out their blood and moisture. These creatures were feared by the Dark Elves, who called them el’Ullran- the monsters. Even armed parties of trained vindicators had a hard time smoking out their nests, and now the mali’ker are gone, the dry octopus is the apex predator of the caves The Lurker Lurkers inhabit only the largest cavern opening and widest valleys in Magara’lin, and given their size, it is easy to see why. These arthropod/centipede hybrids can grow up to sixty feet long. Before the exodus, the dark elves achieved partial success in domesticating these colossal insects, herding them with the use of mirrors and flashing lights. Their thick hide, when tempered correctly, was perfect for bonemold armour, and the flesh of their underbelly, while toxic, could be a powerful medicine if prepare correctly. The Lurkers roam free now, across the abandoned ruins. The Silu Fungi come in all shapes and sizes in the caverns under the Ceru mountains were used for many purposes by the mali’ker before their exodus from the lands. Now nothing keeps them cultivated, they grow wild, and have overtaken many cave openings and valleys. The Remnant Not all mali’ker left. Some clung to the memory of Veluluai, refusing to exodus with the rest. Naturally, the decision to abandon a home that their people had lived in for a thousand years was not one that was made with unanimous support. Even after Veluluai was gone, and Luara turned her favour away from the dark elven people, some clung to Magara’lin, refusing to make the exodus with their brothers and sisters to greener pastures above ground. These mali’ker and their children became known to themselves as the Remnant. The Remnant are few and far between. Once there were close to a million mali’ker deep under the mountains. But now, post exodus, a couple thousand remain at most. They live in small tribal bands of a few hundred at most, wandering nomadically amongst the colossal husks of subterranean city ruins made by their forefathers. In better days, the mali’ker were merchants, artisans, musicians and guildsmen. Now with so few left, their society has devolved into a tribal affair. Hunting, gathering and rudimentary farming now make up their lifestyle, as bands of the remnant subsist by hunting the animals their ancestors domesticated, and foraging for the fungi their ancestors cultivated. Despite this, these mali’ker remain very conscious of their past and ancestral ties to Veluluai and Luara, the moon spirit. They consider themselves the last true dark elves and fiercely worship both. Any outsiders who find themselves in the ruins of Magara’lin are swiftly terminated. A Remnant warrior clad in the tempered carapace of a lurker. One may wonder why the Remnant refuse any discovery and kill all who find the ancient derelict kingdom they call home. Perhaps they are simply trying to keep people out out of a desire to live in isolation. Or, perhaps they are trying to keep something in… The Cursed One’s Prison Azul and his followers, a thousand years before the present day. Azul, the firstborn of Veluluai, poisoned his mother under the light of the moon, and proceeded to lead a rebellion against her world order. Fighting a bloody war against his father, the vengeance driven widower of Veluluai, he was eventually captured. Azul was brought before Luara, spirit of the moon, and cursed with eternal life and beast-like insanity. Before the dark elves made their exodus out of Magara’lin, Azul was chained in the deepest pit of the caverns, to suffer for eternity. Even the Remnant mali’ker of the current day, fierce as they are, don’t venture that deep. No fungi grow so far down, and the fiercest of octopii and largest of lurkers stay away. Any foolish enough to venture down the winding cavern paths to the darkest depths of Magara’lin will hear howling. Howling of a withered mummy of a man with the mind of a beast. A man bound to the stone with a hundred chains. With the dangers of the darkness, and the tribal remnant fiercely guarding the ruins of Magara’lin, it is unlikely an outsider will ever get close. But, one can only try to avoid wondering what would happen if such an immortal, deranged prisoner were freed... FOOTNOTES: Magara’lin is already accepted lore in the form of the origin history of the dark elves. But everything other than the confirmation of its existence still needs to be judged/passed. Possible location for a Magara’lin build on Ceru.

Their 'civilization' isnt as we know it. Their architecture is the nature itself, homes hidden/weaved into the flora. They have a complex hierarchy, but even a wolf pack has that. Eternal balance doesn't mean that everyone is happy and sings kumbaya together, the nature of well, nature, is that things are hunted and killed. Animals defend their territory, et cetera. The Aspects would likely step in if a creature was being hunted to extinction (even then, maybe it deserves extinction?) but other than that, conflict isnt some outlying issue to them but just a core part of a wild world. It's a darwinian plane of existence. Dryads are wood elves though, and elves are a descendent race so have to have been birthed in the mortal realm. Its possible the whole magic/amber seed thing that they go through is because of some innate wood elf connection to the fae realm or something. I'll brainstorm, but if you have ideas let me know. i put in a race of giant spider people and a land of eternal night. read between the lines you schmuck As of now its just druids, as that seems to be what the pre-existing lores for the Eternal Forest claim. This can change though given willingness/ideas. That's kind of the point, they're meant to be deceiving. I'm gonna read grims lore and im always happy to add on other people's work to mine in collaboration, but the Imps are most likely here to stay. I wrote them based off the general idea of OG "elves" from germanic mythology Otherwise, thanks for your feedback. Its appreciated. And as a general statement to everyone, I wanna remind people that none of my lore is static. It's designed to be built upon, collaborated with, etc. so if you have any ideas or lore of your own which is similar to this, I encourage you to reach out to me. I actually mulled over the idea of adding a leprechaun race in, I like this and I'll give it some thought. shoot me ideas on how to implement them into Fae Realm lore if you have any