CorweenieTheJedi

The Ballot: ((MC Name: CorweenieTheJedi)) Name: Burt Hassenfort Vote for Elder: James Peregrin (xx) Greta Goodbarrel (x) Filibert Applefoot () Jordan Applebottom () Winter May Gardner ()

Burt reads this in a halfling fashion

@Auswolf it's your time to shine man

Can we remove bans on players who don't get a response about their ban within 72 hours as well?

Sevrel did not know Awaiti too closely, though they did share a love for the mali of Elvenesse, and a passion for it's people. He was saddened to hear of her passing. He went to a secluded section of the woods of Elvenesse, with a small bundle of cactus green. He burned the offering, and mumbled a prayer for the elder 'ame, another one of the eldest lost to the sands of time. "Ker’ayla, ehya ahern'nae Awaiti. Mar’haelun ehya mar’maln, myumier nae lin"

Sevrel reads the missive in a dark elf fashion.

Sevrel stroked his beard in thought as he looked at the fat chickens. "Who has been feeding these chickens I wonder?" he asked himself before wandering off. The image of the fat chickens would be imprinted on his memory. So plump, so round. Almost voluptuous in shape. He sat in his room, sipping some wine by the fire as his children played, and he quietly mumbled to himself. "Who has been feeding them... who..." the elder 'ker lamented, as he gazed into the burning embers, the mystery toying with his head.

Burt nods in a halfling fashion

POG

Sevrel carefully reads the copy of this missive that found it's way into his hands. He sits next to his fire with a glass of wine in his hand, occasionally sipping it. After he finishes reading it, he folds it neatly and places it in his desk. Before retiring for the night, he unties the ponytail that his hair is bound in, and he sits on the edge of the bed. He ponders what he read, and let out a long sigh before lying down and going to sleep, though the words of the pact bounced in his head, preventing him from resting. He had much to think about.

dewit

One of the letters sent out by Velsyni would reach the hands of Sevrel. He sat in his home with a glass of wine, and read the parchment by the fire as his children played. "Norland eh?" He said to himself as he read "They have always been kind and true of heart, not a bad choice... If you had to settle for a Valah city" He muttered sarcastically. A soft smile crested upon his visage and he placed the letter on his table, and took a sip of wine "At least I am not the only one who wants to do right by our kin" He commented with a nod, before finishing his wine. Later that night, he t

This missive would be transcribed many times and sent to any and all groups or individuals of the Mali’ker people As I sit here, sailing on the ships to our new land, I think about my past. Being on this ship reminds me of my time as a sailor in my youth, before I decided to settle down and find a home. First Vira’ker, then Asimu’lei, then Ker’Okarn, and then Aegrothond, and now, who knows. I think about our peoples’ past. I think about the many cities we have built. I think about the stories that have been written, by pen and sword alike. I think about the tales of our ancestors,