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Evanuri

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About Evanuri

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  1. my mind doesn't know how to comprehend the idea that musin can become heralds of azdromoth but not druids. +1
  2. To sort of piggy-back on this, I'm not the largest fan that aesthetic changes like horns, etc. are obligate when becoming a Soul Tree. This exists in Transcendence already. I enjoy it when it's not compulsory and the Soul Tree/player can choose to take on these more dramatic, physical effects. But that's just a take from someone who focuses heavily on visual aesthetics in a character. I'm always drawn to choice. Making it compulsory between both Transcendence and Soul Tree, while also a part of Epipyhte? (Correct me if I'm wrong, I've seen Epiphytes with horns) just muddies the differences between druidism adjacent feats/CAs, etc. The most interesting thing about Soul Tree is that 'Immortal Soldier of the Wilds' intention, and the mental characteristics of technically not being yourself, that 'yourself' is actually a tree.
  3. [An ornate and tempered scroll contained within a lacquered and polished tube of palm wood. Stained with a dark red, the casing appeared as if it were used as a murder weapon - splotches of crimson splashed against the golden-brown material and soaked into the grains. The tube bore two caps designed after sleeping snakes, curled up to form a disc shape. The first part of the script was written in a twisting scrawl of swirls and dots - a foreign script, untranslatable lest they knew the language, that was then followed by the translation in Common. ] AGARWAEN KYERMË [BLOODSTAINED PRAYER] TO THE BLOOD THAT FLOWS WITHIN MY VEINS, I THANK THAT WHICH BREATHES LIFE INTO MY BODY. TO THE FLESH THAT NOURISHES MY MIND, I THANK THAT WHICH ALLOWS MY FORM TO CONTINUE ANEW. MOTHER, I THANK THEE FOR BIRTHING A BEAUTIFUL SOUL. FATHER, I THANK THEE FOR NURTURING AND TEMPERING A WARRIOR'S SOUL. BLESS THE LIFE THAT HAS BEEN TRIUMPHED, BLESS THE LIFE THAT IT SHALL FUEL. OOC CREDITS:
  4. MC Name: Evanuri Discord: coratosh Image: Description of Image: A mural of the Wild God, Kar'nath Dimensions: 2 wide, 3 high
  5. the law of conservation of matter!!!! matter cannot be created or destroyed!!! what is this!!!!! (jk +1 artificial baby factory)
  6. [To the Ichor Way Creed Hub] To aid in our adherence, and stoke ourselves like the great, burning flames we are. Rites, practices, and deeds that do not dictate who we become- but instead, let us see the power in who we already are. An example of Ichorian Exaltation Markings, featuring red ilmyumier and scarification embellishment. The acts of giving and receiving markings are a pillar of what it is to be Ichorian. The body, especially that of Mali’, is an ageless work of art, and a vessel of great memory and timeless experience. An Ichorian body which is marked, be it through ink, or scar both intentional and not, is a body that understands pain and perseverance which strives for the freedoms of emotion and expression. They are acts of dedication and burden-bearing that the Ichorians revere. Intentional scarification is a part of the Creed Markings, as well as many rituals where adherents anoint themselves in dyes, in scars, permanent tattoos for the passion of their cause. When done intentionally, it is often to depict experiences or emotions felt by the Ichorian. Above all markings, most noted are those of Ichorian Exaltation, given to newbloods upon the completion of their trials as they move forward into the fold. Given from Elder to student, it is a devoted and private process shared between the two. Rather than ceremonial, the Rite of Exaltation is a tender moment between teacher and pupil, where the markings are bestowed with compassion, and appreciation of the student’s strength. An excerpt of the First Tome, as dictated by the Koi Druid (credit to Mitto for the original Ichor Way): Scarification is one of the many practices of the Ichor Way, by the carving of the skin either through natural means, or by ritualistic patterning. The natural ways of scarification can vary, often from pain related trials of endurance and perseverance. The wounds of determination through pain should be cherished, as they also double as a sign of struggles past. Through ritualistic scarification, certain symbols can be engraved into the skin. The lengthy and painstaking process is a true sign of dedication and can even be used over traditional tattooing. An Ichorian can use these to double up their current tattoos or add more over them. It's not an easy or soft process. Ichorian Anointment The Ichorians brand themselves in their blood, and sometimes also the blood of their enemies or last hunt. Depending on the pattern is dependent on the emotions felt, even to mark yourself with a debilitating emotion is a sign of strength, because it shows despite that emotion you show determination and commitment through it. Two lines from the eyes This marking is synonymous with mourning or sadness, often when someone has suffered loss yet is still challenged with a great task they will display their sadness this way. The markings themselves aren't reserved strictly for combative scenarios, some may even choose to bear this mark at memorials. Hand on face A bloody hand is a literal translation to feeling suffocated, which has become a symbol of fear. Some can wear it on their face, others on their neck. Fear has become known as weakness, however Ichorians know that fear can breed greatness, so they show their fear with pride. Two horizontal lines These markings show someone’s calmness, sometimes in the grueling experience of certain struggles, someone becomes completely desensitized to them. This can be a sign of someone’s dominance in a certain aspect, but to wear it falsely can mark anyone a fool. Two lines under cheekbones Lines starting from the ear under the cheekbone and sometimes straight down to the jawline is a sign of determination, bravery and loosely happiness. Someone's unwavering solidarity can be displayed through them, and in vast numbers it's a sign of camaraderie and perseverance. One line from bottom lip to chin To bring a line from either over the lip or under the lip down to the chin is a sign of a personal vendetta. If someone has a message to send, or a problem to settle. The wearer will often don this until such a time when the vendetta has ended, be it a score to settle with another, or they possess something to prove to themselves or others. Sacrifice is vital in many things, and especially integral to the practice of the Ichor Way. It is a Rite that can be employed in any circumstance, for any reason. As simple as one’s daily offering, to great ceremonies cloistered around the carcass of a grand hunt. Sacrifice is a tool utilized in all of Aspectism, not solely our path. But our path has elevated the concept of Sacrifice, and turned the very act into something to be revered. Pain is to be worshiped, as much as love and mirth. Revering the Body of the Beast is a rite performed after its’ hunting, or before a great hunt or battle. However, the rite can be employed as a facet of any Ichorian ceremony or Aspectist teaching. To exalt the flesh of the beast is to dedicate your heart and soul to the wild itself. It is a rite that can and should be performed for any beast and respectful game, as small as the hare or as large as the buffalo. The carcasses of larger game, however, go on to be used in further ceremony, to be crafted into art pieces as gifts and offerings, even totems for sites of worship. The ceremony begins as the beast is cut into. The ceremonial head, being the beast’s hunter, will be anointed in the warmth of its blood, either done by their own hand or that of a Herald presiding over the event at large. Following that, the heart of the creature will be excised first of all, keeping care to maintain the wholeness of the carcass until the heart is removed from the body and ultimately eaten raw by the ceremonial head as the ichor will stain their face and be swept into markings. After which the head is severed, cleaned in and out of hide, flesh, and excess. The rest of the carcass body is treated as normal, the pelts are moved on for use in clothing, some pelts are often worn around the shoulders for the rest of the ceremony to be repurposed later. The meat is divided for a feast, the inedible is used as fertilizer as aforementioned. Bones and skulls are used for a specific purpose known as bone raiments, and token-hewing. An example of a Herald’s raiment. The raiment is a piece worn by every initiated Ichorian, hewn by their own hand soon after their marking rites. As extravagant as a head-dress and spaulders, or as simple as a collar of bones. Each piece is sacred and symbolic to the Ichorian that crafts them, worn either day-to-day, or during sacred moments. Those moments of ceremony, during battle, prayer, the Ichorian will anoint their raiment in dyes, inks, and blood- their own, and the ichor of the enemies after a victory. The raiment consists of a bone token, but is of the Ichorian’s making otherwise. When an Ichorian dies, their raiment will be placed upon a site of relevance, either willed by the Ichorian before their death, or at the choosing of a Herald. Typically, it will be placed at the site of their dedication Totem, and left with an offering of fresh spider lilies, bone tokens, fruit, and freshly-hunted game. The proof of an honored hunt and a source of Ichorian pride, bone tokens are an essential part of Ichorian culture. More often than not, bones obtained in hunts will be transformed into art dedicated to the Aspects, as well as to the creature it was sourced from, to show respect for the life taken. Individual tokens themselves are often carved and embedded with intricate designs to represent Cerridwen’s beauty and grace while bones such as skulls are often turned into ornamental adornments of shrines, representing Cernunnos’ watch. The decorated bones are often taken care of wherever they end up, representing and celebrating the beast’s new life within the Eternal Forest. Smaller bones are turned into decorative chips and pieces to be used within necklaces or other crafts of importance by the Ichorian who created them. Commonly laced with old elven and other ornate designs, these crafts are considered sacred symbols which can signify concepts such as luck, bravery, vitality, etc. While these accessories are mostly worn by the Ichorian responsible for them, they are occasionally given out as gifts or used as offerings in ceremonies or to the deceased. Rite of Bone-Hewing An ancient tradition of the Ichorians, totems are symbolic, and act as a physical representation of the respect and reverence given to every animal killed in the wilds at the end of a hunt. Carved by hand and created with care, these totems use a variety of resources mainly gathered from nature, including but not limited to rocks, branches, twigs, bark, flora matter such as fiber, and most importantly bones. The totems represent the ancient tradition of passing on stories, each one possessing a tale of its own behind its creation. These totems act as beacons of hope as well as representing the perseverance one must have to become strong and disciplined. Bone totems also serve as a core part of an Ichorian Aspirant’s trials within the Ichor Path. All aspirants are tasked with creating a totem of their own, which is then adorned by their first bone tokens. These totems are then anointed in the blood of an Aspirant in order to represent dedication and vigor, proof that one’s will and vigor is one with the hunt they partake in. Ichorians often find themselves before the totems of their creation when they are lost in defeat. The totems revitalize their confidence, reminding them that they are always capable of growing and that surviving defeat is nothing more than a call to become stronger. By Raphael Lacoste Sensefasting Sensefasting is the practice in which Ichorians willingly strip themselves of their senses on a consistent basis to ensure they never lose touch with what they pride themselves on. Utilizing various tactics, most commonly a blindfold, Ichorians revel in the basics of nature as they hone themselves day and night even amongst everyday life. Childbirth Ceremonies To celebrate and bless the birth of a new child to an Ichorian, one to several members of the Creed will gather around the prospective mother and mark her stomach. This is done typically a month or two before the expected arrival date. During this marking, the Ichorians will use a dye made of vervain and spiderlily to anoint the mother’s stomach. Designs can fall to the interpretation of the artists, but a circle is most common, followed by a bear. Upon the safe birth of the baby, the Ichorians will anoint them in similar designs and spend a night in revelry, adorning the newborn and mother in wreaths of flowers, bramble, bone, and wicker. Heartbeat Drums In festivities and some rituals, Ichorians are inclined toward the use of chanting and the beat of drums, to symbolize the harmonious heartbeat of the collective. Rarely is this practice used when an Ichorian is alone, though it has been seen when an Ichorian is honoring a fallen creed member on their own, or wishes to perform a deeply personal ceremony or ritual. Feast of Bones Before the frosts creep upon us and bring chills to the bark of our bones, the passionate Ichorians may gather for a potluck feast, each member or invitee tasked to bring something gathered of their own hands, prepared by their own selves. During the feast of bones, each member will be adorned in colorful paints and dyes of their desire while feasting with their own hands. We are creatures hungering for survival, let us thrive as the gluttonous lion. The day before the feast is to take place, the main course is to be hunted. A local predator of great renown large enough to accommodate the hungry. Their meat will be served at the feast, their bones used for broth and table adornments. Rite of Red Tears At the core of the Creed is trust, love, and freedom among Creedsiblings. Our bond is thicker than blood, hewn of sentimental ties and the expression of our burdens. We find lightness and emotional strength in togetherness. An Ichorian does not burden themselves with emotion, as our passions are our strength. Gathering around a smoking bowl, inhaling the herbs and fungi, we divulge our secrets and burdens to one another. We find solace in the comfort of our Creed siblings, and build one another up. Pain is never to be forgotten, but appreciated as necessary. Our pains become the burden and blessing of the group, so that we might foster a greater strength in one another. Oftentimes, we may burn possessions tied to these weighing memories, and free ourselves from negative sentiment.
  7. All images used for Ichorian posts are made by me, unless stated otherwise. [Rites of the Ichor Way] Music for thought [Contains Lyrics] Traditions which stifle, but do not temper. Rites which only draw blood, yet never bring it to boil. The true meaning of Ichor has been lost, and the message has strayed from what the Koi intended. Though I did not know him, it brings me great mirth to continue his work as his Caerme’onn seed brother. We are creatures of Ichor, of material most divine; We are of flesh, of blood, of power. Ichor is not simply what we bleed. But like blood, it is the passion that courses within us and fuels us. It is the pain, sorrow, rage, and joy that has tempered us into the creatures we are. Without passion, we can never truly be bound to duty. It is ever the way of nature that the strongest should be poised to rule. Strength is no mere feat of brawn, nor the apex of intellect. While these are tools that you may employ, and I encourage you to do so, to thrive amongst the ebb of nature is to follow in the footsteps of those who call it home; Beasts. It is the instinct and impulse of a beast that is honed, most, above all else. A great adaptability and passion for that which they stand by. The wilds are a realm of constant strife, a battle of longevity under the weight of nature; each creature suffering so it may survive. Only those that adapt live, and those who stop at nothing thrive. Hear me, auld Ichorians. Your Herald, The Ichor Druid, is naught but a loveless crone. She does a disservice to her people, her Creed, by teaching them through senselessness. Pain inflicted only for pain’s sake, as if to say that nature itself is nonsensical. Nature’s chaos is its sense, an orderly chaos hand-hewn by the Aspects. Nothing is taught by pain without purpose, experience without meaning. Nature is cruel, true, but never without reason and cause to be. Sacrifice has no meaning if it lies in vain. Passivity is the greatest sin to the Ichorian, causing little surprise to know that this dogma festered in the hands it does now. Red Herald The Herald is a valuable role, tasked with the upbringing of Aspirants and maintenance of the Ichor Way. It is a Herald that is looked to, when the time comes to profess the Creed, and lead its sacred rites. Heralds are chosen, for they exemplify the passions an Ichorian strives to embody. They alone are tasked with erecting new tomes and epithets of the Ichor Way, and the appointment of Heralds. Ichorian A Creedbrother who has undergone all requisite trials, and completed their rite of marking. They understand and have performed the rites well, and join the fold to profess and uphold the tenets of our creed. They may hold rites as needed, and profess the tenets to the public. To teach the Aspirant seedlings, and guide them as they do their trials under a Herald. Aspirant The veritable life of the Ichor Way comes in the great spirit of new blood and faces. The Aspirant undergoes the trials to learn wholly of our path, and the care we take as it relates towards our goals and veneration. They are students first, but even they may shed light on mysteries not yet revealed even to Heralds themselves. To find their stride as a Creed-sibling, a newblood must partake in the Rite of Expression before they are exalted into the state of an Aspirant and begin their trials to join the faith. The point of such a rite is to foster kinship between pupil and teacher. Permutations on the rite depend on the wills of the Ichorian Elder, but always contain a binding of the eyes and nature-walk with student and teacher. During the Rite, the pupil will speak their truths to the Elder, professing their life’s strifes, its woes, and great happinesses: from where the student’s fervor derives itself. At the end of the memory-walk, the student and teacher will join one another in a great release. This may take the form of screaming at the exalted sky, crying, but the student must be able to expunge themselves of the passion they have bottled and allowed to well. To forever remove the levee of their mind and begin the constant flow and churn of their emotions. All the experiences should be used by the instructing Herald to inform their trials therein, tailored to the pupil’s needs while teaching them of our Creed’s rites and practices. The Tome of First Blood, as dictated by the Koi Druid; Reimagined by the Buzzard Druid. “Harmony doesn’t exist, there is only the rage of survival, a never-ending chaos for supremacy.” To live towards your true self is what it means to walk perfectly alongside nature, not until you have suffered like nature shall you understand what it means to walk like it. Nature is a never-ending fight for survival, and the pain and chaos it continuously lives in can be echoed in yourself. Only then when you look past the serene nature of a forest, or a grove and look deeper at some plants struggling for sunlight, or a fly’s final flight will you understand that even if you cannot see it, or choose to ignore it, nature is always wrought with survival and chaos. Harmony is a simple word that we use to describe things that we do not truly understand, for there is never peace nor harmony in nature. We are always hungry, always tired, always emotional. We act often out of someone else's expense. To try to live your life passively, to hide from the extremities of nature is pure cowardice. A simple sign that you lack the fortitude to accept how nature truly behaves, and what our instinct brings us to achieve. “In the passion of nature, my emotions bring me strength, to go beyond convention.” We mustn’t ever stagnate, for our passiveness can lead us to rest upon our laurels. To stop striving for greater. We should always be prepared to evolve, adapt and overcome. There is no end, for if we slow down eventually we will be overtaken. No matter the title you hold, it will mean nothing in chaos, or to nature. Passion is what keeps creatures alive, to continue to strive for survival. Should they ever begin to slow down marks the end of their life. To believe that as descendants we are without the need of our simple passions and conventions alongside the creatures we live amongst is a lie. What you have achieved, what you have done will mean nothing in time. Those of the future will forget, or they will not care. Never stop, continue to drive. It’s our passion that will keep us on top. “I will continue to stack my victories, until nature and I are free from this burden.” The vices of civilization make us weak, soft. Many burden themselves behind walls, with a keyhole look to the world around them. While the mass production of voidal witches continues to grow, whilst atrocities go untested. The haven of the walls around you make you weak, we used to fight for our survival yet no we no longer need to. We've lost our touch with nature. Many druian look at the strife of nature from their high horse, it’s one thing to recognize the true face of nature, but do you live among it? I forfeit the vice of civility, I do not need a weapon to hunt. I do not need to rely on my eyes to see. As I have shown my students, you rely on the things most precious to you too much. The constructs of civilization, they have made you weak. You are used to the read supply of food, these comforts keep you from experiencing nature. It’s only when you break away from your old comforts can you really be free, to walk among nature as if it were your own. He who has achieved victory whilst shattering all restrictions has walked closest with perfection. “I am taught of Nature; Guided by Wild Hands.” When we, Children of Malin, departed from our first father’s gilded halls, the ‘ame forged their own paths and gathered in great kinships. These olden tribes lived in great accordance with the wilds, and adopted the reverence of the Wild Gods; Aspects and Mani to guide them. We have always called Mother and Father; Sanctuary and Hunt, the wisdom behind our cause. However, I believe, in this new age of Ichor, that our eyes ought to fall upon the guidance of creatures who are more kin to the wild than we. The Mani exemplify the ideals that the ‘ame can strive for. Bolomormaa is the matron of clan-kinship, and ferocious motherhood; as Amaethon is the stalwart patron of guidance. We are fools to ignore them as they are, and fools-more not to emulate them in service to the balance. As long as you have blood to spill, you will find your strength. This is the belief of the Ichor Way, and those who follow it. The path is difficult to walk, but those who do can hold themselves in high regard. That which is difficult is not always bad, and that which is easy is not always best. I pledge myself to these tenets and my blood to this oath, for I am Ichorian. Passivity is a sign of cowardice. To refuse to act is a refusal to perform your duties. Refusing violence is an ultimate sign of cowardice, not all things can be resolved in words, nor should they be. Always be prepared to fight for what’s just. Allowing yourself to stagnate is allowing yourself to fall victim to the cycle of redundancy. Regardless of your old achievements, you will be forgotten. As Mali, as I assume the majority of Aspirants will be, we should not allow a long life to delude us into believing we must succumb to futile patience and idleness. A life, however long, should be spent moving upward. Allowing fear to control your actions, or preventing you from making a decision is cowardice, let fear make you stronger. Release yourself from your passivity. Civilization breeds weakness in the hearts of our kin. Learn what it means to survive. Always be prepared to give up your vices, what is closest to you. To become dependent is weakness. If you want something, always be prepared to fight for it. To not be able to hunt or fight is pure weakness, these are completely necessary in finding strength. If you need weapons and armour to fight or hunt, then learn to act without them. Always be prepared at the worst of times. To rely on only one of your senses is naive, learn to act with your ears, with your smell. Utilize what the Aspects have given you fully. Strive for greatness, never let yourself fall off. Regardless of your titles and achievements, you can always continue to press yourself towards greater. As they can mean nothing in time. Never allow yourself to become passive, don’t let fear or your position stop you from gaining more. Regardless of the beliefs of others, you can take what you deserve with a heavy hand. But always be prepared to face the consequences. Protect and teach, but teach those to stand on their own. The young ones among us are impressionable, but must eventually rise as you have. Give them the teachings they need, protect them while they are still being honed, and teach them to fight their own battles. Make your kin strong, only by inciting these teachings can we as a nation, seed, family, begin to show true excellence. Learn from your history, your ancestors. Honor tradition, for they walked closer to nature. Examine the legends of the past, the Oracles and ancestors who shaped your kin to how they are. There are many lessons to be learned from them. Inherit their strength, for they survived in strife for you, do not pass on your weakness, pass on the strength that flows through you. Keep good to your oaths. There’s no greater sign of weakness than unloyalty. Whether to the Aspects, clan, or Seed; Your oaths are binding, to disregard them is an absolute sign of failure. Bring greatness and victory to them, you have the potential to bring greatness to your kin in the name of the Aspects, use it well. Making an oath is not a passive task, always make them with a clear conscience, don’t forget what you stand for. Achieve what you must by any means necessary. Never be afraid of extreme actions, but do not take them lightly. Many big extremes have caused our kin greatness. You may be disparaged by those near to you, even your own kin, by the decisiveness you employ. Do not let it stifle your resolve. Teach those who doubt that action, above all, is most important. Always bear purpose. Partaking in senselessness is tantamount to idleness. To act in any way without cause is to admit your ambition has died, and passions run dry. Pain is sacred only when it bears purpose. Nature is in constant bloodshed for necessity and survival. Blood spilled through torture is wasteful. You are a being of raw, powerful fervor. Never stifle yourself. Our emotions and experiences provide us with power beyond our own understanding. Do not be afraid to be fueled by hatred, rage, passion, sorrow, or pleasure. Calmness is not clarity. Fear is a tool, cause it as you see fit and use your own to foster survival. It is wasteful to pin your emotions. Scream when the desire overcomes you. Cry when you are cleaved by sorrow or joy. Be true: never silent, and seldom stoic. Credit goes solely to the original author of the Ichor Way, mitto. All writing is based off of original texts and threads. Extra thanks to frankdh, 248pengin, and rathat for their help. The Ichor Way (Original by mitto) Ichorian Practices (by mitto)
  8. [!] A depiction of the voidal fallout, of the twi-lit landscape, ravaged by the scars of Ando Alur. It stands a twisted version of what was, drawn intentionally as beautiful in its own wrongness. A portmanteau of themes, among what is depicted and what transpired. When the earth cried for an answer from choking walls and gluttonous expansion, this is not what she pleaded for. Never before has grass felt unfamiliar to my soles, the whispers of the wind itself a stranger to ears who have heard it for four centuries. Great cacophonous voices, one singing their delight now deliver only choking, silent, and dead peace. Once a Buzzard delighted in the scraps of ruination, but never had a bounty been so spoiled and festered of rot, un-salvageable even to carrion. Now in the wake of this destruction, rivers and oceans have fled from the home of my trust. Once the wellsprings of life, now they house unimaginable horror lurking beneath the surface. Scions of utter wrongness, heralded from the Nothingness. They are beasts, purposeless in carnage, writhing in pits of acidic ichor once known to hold the key to life itself. Oftentimes we speak of the give and take of the cycle, of life end death, but even in the chaotic peace of the natural world, sometimes there is more take than give. The Void is a beast that only knows to take, consume into its nothingness, and spit corruption in turn. Our earth has fire, it has stones, water, air. Why must we curse the elements themselves with conjuring? Why do we seek to create that which the world provides? Days in wandering, unknowing if succor or suffering was closer at hand. When life I found again, it was as if air entered my lungs for the first time since my entrance into that scarred land. A breath held, though I knew not I was holding it as chaos returned to my ears and dead peace had fallen to the background. Through my time in the wastes, I prayed not for my survival. But for the salvation of my world. [OOC] important:
  9. On heavy legs, a Mali’ame very nearly crawled from the precipice of once fertile, green earth now ravaged by colorful; hex-maddening taint. Fingers stained in pricked carmine; both of trickling sanguine and carmine-red ilmyumier which embellished his dusky skin. Though now ravaged by battle, several of his markings held desire to be retouched and repaired in the wake of their damage. Folly for later. Now grass again was green, and earth brown in wet, luscious mud. Rain showered upon him, who fell to his knees and exalted the heavens in the pain of his failure. A quarry, stolen from him a second time; eviscerated and snapped away before his eyes where he once stood on success’ threshold. The final mantlepiece could have been his, and wild victory resting upon strong shoulders. Now the zealot was broken, and sick from the blight he traipsed on. A guffawing crowish laugh was heard from on high, as the Mali’ame stared atop a tree, leaves decayed. A vulture watched him and made its noises, nearly ridiculing the elf for his missteps. It boiled him, stained veins bulging in their rage. He was one to throw fits, lifting an old stone from the earth to throw at the buzzard. It was as if fortune flew on the wind, then, the sharpened rock twisting through the air to meet its mark. He threw it, he thought, in futile protest of the laughing. Yet, somehow, by the grace of creation itself, the cast stone struck the carrion bird in the head, sending it to the earth below. Desperate, the Mali’ame ran towards the creature, gouging his blade into its neck and filling an empty skin of its blood before clawing hands tore feathers and stuffed them away; in pouches, pockets, cases, quiver, anywhere a feather might go. The sounds of desperate, hungry carving would squelch through the night. A hunger crying not for a meal, but for victory, as meat was flayed from bone and carcass of bone, skull, was mounted upon wood. Sharpened ribs made a mantle that the Mali’ame donned with broken pride, as a limp took him back towards his Enclave.
  10. [!] A particularly ilmyumier-stained Mali'ame tacks an addendum to the large, personal treatise on the art.
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