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  1. The elf woke up and turned to look at the calendar, it’s roughly his 100th year on this earth… “Has it really been that long?”He didn't know his real birthday other than he had one. He stretched, soon standing to his full height of 6’1. Moving outside of his cramped space he called his nest. He grabbed his bag, and headed out the door. Moving to the nearby spring he washed his face. Walking the streets of Vortice he made his way to the shop. Lighting the lanterns on the top floor near his flowers, the makeshift alchemy lab. Opening a book, at least 80 years old at this point. His eyes started to shift over the pages. He never believed in god as the man who gave him the book did… Flash powder. “No” Will’o bottle “Already have those” Tanglefoot “Just made that last dragon's day… might not be ready in time if I make another batch…” he carried on looking. Auric Oil, that was something he could work with… If only he had Liquid Essence “Damn it” he flipped the page Smoke wipers “that’s something I can use!” He said moving about running out of the shop to get the needed herbs from his hidden stash in the floorboards of his home. Grabbing what he needed… maybe having yelled around a bit at Gus to see if he could borrow some herbs, only to find what he needed after looking back at what he had again. He was off, a race against the clock. Dresses in an apron, pants, gloves and goggles. He started to make the smoke whispers. Just in time, the people of the city started to gather at the gates. He removed his apron, gloves and goggles soon to get on his armor. Placing his helm on top of his head. He always hated wearing things on his head, his face not so much. However it was either wearing a helmet or risking losing his eye a second time. Something he didn’t wish to go. He was in such a rush to get out of the shop, he had left his tanglefoot bottles and the smoke whipres. So much for that. On the bright side, he was able to pack two other bags with some rope and some rations of dried beef and bread. He saddled his horse Luther, it was time for another escort mission. The gates were opened. Soon as they got on their horses they were off to Balian! He had only been there a few times. Just a handful of times to help out the Vuiller family if they needed an escort to a meeting. He had often worn a different name, over his many years he had grown distrustful of people. The descendants as a whole, still they rode off to the city in the sands. Once in the south, the sky got dark. While his comrades of the city of Vortice were put on the wall to stop a dragon. He joined up with the people of Elvenesse. He was going to the canyons, He handed off both packs, one to a person going with them. The other pack went to a young man as they made out their game plan. No reason to hand off the bag to the young lad,just felt like it. Among the crowds of people he saw a face he recognized. Jarad Munnel, seeing the man without a mount. He was invited onto Luther’s set. Each group made their way over to their wagon. He didn’t pay too much attention to who was at first. His one goal was to keep the cart safe. He was stationed at the left flake of the wagon. Once they started to walk he went to load his crossbow. Jarad, seeing this, offered to take the reins. He allowed such, loading the crossbow. Walking along the road… an arrow head was in the dirt path.. Then another. Not even a breath later arrows rained down on them as Streaks of lightning. A violent scourge of red, black and green light intertwined in the daybreak.. “Shit! It’s an ambush!” he shouted to those around them, as if they couldn’t see with their own eyes. Skeletal archers were lying in wait. They didn’t want the cart to get to the canyon. Some of their horses had been shot down. Thankfully Jarad was able to maneuver Luther in a way to where he didn’t get hit. It also helped that they had the waggon for cover but for how much longer only time could tell. Some of the now dead horses laid onto their riders. They pushed on, the men and women off and some still on their horses started to charge at the undead. Slashing them down where they stood. Unknowing what was going on. The cart was still being pulled. Veluc, paired with Dele Seregon as a defender. Luther with his two riders kept close to the cart. “Keep with the cart!” Luther’s rider called. Auriel “Speed is essential! Quick! QUICK!” The sounds of battle rang out on the path. Adri and Fritjof moved to take down some of the archers, Dele dashed forwards to get the one laying it waiting behind a cactus! Dazen Zantiln crept closer to the tower, knocking an arrow onto his bowstring to prepare himself for a shot. Auro'ra Castington saunters off to stand a little ways behind Dazen, unpigmented mist steaming from their shoulders before coiling around her arms' helix structure - clumping into a sphere in the center of her palm. Naerys Athri'onn and the other rider leap from their horse before they too fell victim to the pitfall trap. Well played indeed. Some of the undead archers reloaded their bows as a fatal mistake was about to be made. Two undead archers were hidden behind a sand dune. Luther was hit in the chest, sending both riders tumbling forwards. Followed the sound of breaking glass. The will’o bottles that he had in his bag broke. Yet somehow didn’t activate, saved by some cosmic being once again. Perhaps they found him still entertaining? Didn’t matter, his horse and longtime companion was hit, dying. Being used for cover by Jarad as other horses and riders started to fall into spike traps “You good?” he called back, running after the cart still being pulled by the escort as he started to run after it, but didn’t hear if he got a response back. They had to keep the cart safe. Jarad exhaled once to steady his aim as a flash of light appeared at the end of his magegold rod, firing out three speedy air projectiles at the two skeletons whooshing through the air as they traveled towards the archers. Jarad turned a poor skeleton into a pincushion, the undead falling over after having been shot with the gat. This caused Auriel's swing to miss however, The momentum of the blow carried straight into the side of their horse's head, knocking the bridle out along with some teeth and causing the horse to buck their rider off, not dead, but panicked and running. . A guttural horn would sound in the distance however over the sounds of battle. Followed by a guttural draconic call echoes from the front of the city, warped by undeath. As the waggon got closer to the canyon, the figures marching from the canyon could be seen clearly even in the night now. The long dead from almaris' past wars come alive again, an elysian shield wall followed up by uruk berserkers, Alongside the elysians in the shield wall former orenian imperial soldiers and harvest confederacy ones mixed in. A last stand guarding the canyon. The cart came to a halt. “Damn it!” Veluc stopped at the sight of the defense in front of the canyon, holding onto his axe in the road. He lowered a free hand to his belt and produced a bottle of grey goop. “TO HELL WITH THEM ALL!” Dele bellowed and at once, set upon the archer, going to spear it in a furious strike aimed to destroy it! Auro'ra Castington furrows her brows whilst the aura sphere within her hold erupts into flame for the second time, she retracts her hand before pushing it forwards - the mound of flame aiming for the undead atop the tower. “ELYSIANS! THE ONES THAT I AND A MENTALLY INSANE PERSON KILLED FIVE OF WITH NOTHING BUT DAGGERS! ORENIANS WHO FELL BY THE DOZEN! ONWARDS! DON'T FEAR THE WEAK!” Kosher Daesmon raise his aurum sword, as he yelled. Jarad smiled at the work on his magic-powered air gun before putting it away and taking out his glowing spear and his medical kit, bending over the still somehow alive horse , wrapping some cloth around the arrow wound, applying frost vine. Stabilizing it for now, deciding to return later in order to treat it properly, running forward in order to catch up to the cart. “Wonder if the undead could only find almaris's worst fighters, the wall will be easy to break.” The elf climbed onto the cart taking up a post with his crossbow. Vicious explosions litter from the canyons, parts of the sludge slowly being burned away as the other descendants move to finish the job. Kosher Daesmon takes out a bottle as he stands his ground “HOLD THE LINE! DO NOT LET THEM TAKE THE CART!” He would circle his horse, attempting to rally as many as possible. “KILL THEM ALL! LEAVE NO DEAD UNQUARTERED AND SLAIN!” Dele once again bellowed, moving to keep up with Kosher, producing a particular vial from her hip. Jarad running up to the cart spear in hand shouted “Hold the line, Send the undead scum back to their graves!” “Anyone want a fireball?” The elf shouted moving to take aim at the line of undead making their way over. Auriel drew forth her dark blade, anointed in auric oil. The handle of the blade held a spike, letting her douse it in blood. It alit, shedding a chainsawing buzz of lighting and rusted gleam. Onto the back of Veluc's horse, she rode. Veluc moved the cart forward just slightly before he lowered himself from the seat. Still holding the poleaxe in one hand, in the other he shook about the bottle of tanglefoot. “Get ready, everyone!” Others soon started to join in, coming from the dirt path behind the waggon. Pillars of smoke bellow from the city behind them. cloud of smog, to all those that looked at the city… The line of soldiers from wars passed seemed steady, advancing ever onward towards the cart and defenders. Seemingly more toughened through necromantic means. It would likely take a massive force to wheel through the oncoming horde. Those who had potions out started to shake them, activate them. Kosher waved his sword “HOLD!” Jarad ran closer to the cart “Rally on the wagon, we can push through this together” he would yell to the reg-tag group of soldiers. With not much else to do, the elf that was once on top of the cart jumped down. Tapping the blue gem on his gauntlet. Those who then tossed their positions slowed down the undead. Some fell short however. “GET THAT CART IN THE CANYON, YE DUNG-BAGGING GOATHOLES!” Auriel gave excellent advice, shrieking over the buzzing whine of her sawing blade. Veluc joined them back at the cart everyone near started to push it as others just now joining the battle started to run past them… The waggon started to roll. The elf lifted up his gauntlet, the blue gem a glow. “Kin now!!” Jarad yelled “Move out of the way!” Kin, the elf shouted as a fireball the size of a beach ball shot out, lighting the cart up in a big blaze. Anyone unfortunate enough to be caught near the cart as it rolled down the hill into the canyon would suffer from 2-3 degree burns. Those who had run past the cart. Soon I started to retreat! Some dragging the still alive horse. The cart, now flaming, would quickly hurl down the hillside towards the cavern, running over undead and likely descendants alike if they were anywhere in its path. The cart would hurl down with a loud this into the heart of the hoard. As the cart smashed into the canyon however, a sizzle would be heard and a tense moment would pass without change. Until it did. The skies seem to dust the city of Balian with plumes of ash that dig within the crevices of the city. The air seems dry, an omen of something to come. Then from the sands, the horrific beast is shown to surge through the sands. The feller of Cloudbreaker, in full force those still around started to rush back to the city, be it on horseback or foot. Screams could be heard from the crowds….“ABANDON THE CITY.” and so they did. Filing out of the burning city. Off to a nearby keep where those hurt during the battle could be treated. Kin finding one of his new found friends among the hurt. After getting his friend treatment he took him back to Vortice.
  2. The Bloody Fox’s Log Volume 2 104 of the Second Age It has been long overdue that I publish another log. The people of Almaris are due an explanation for all the travesty in the world today and I seek to bring about an element of that explanation. I am no great individual with no gods who have blessed me and no taint to possess me. But Sonnos has taught me how to be cunning and Morea has taught me to be brave. I have been at the venture of fighting what lurks in the dark for nearly my entire adult life. Never have I seen a place so filled with taint and corruption as the Principality of Celia’nor. I returned to Celia’nor after many years of exile to find a place that seemed to be following in the ways that we had set about when we founded the city. A place of peace and unity for those ostracized by The Silver State and the societies of Almaris that cast them out. As I settled there I found myself increasingly noticing the peculiarities with strange visitors in late hours to the castle and the use of violence against those undeserving. I explored the city and found obelisks beneath many homes, rooms filled with blood and gore from Aspects know what beasts. I found people of ill intent consorting with the nobility in every place I looked. I found myself no longer content in the waiting of the Princess to see the error of her ways for inaction leaves her no better than an instrument of violence, the same as a blade on the hip of cruelty. In a social at Starpool I could no longer stand aside and allow the evil that had festered to continue its walking in the sunlight. I felt the need to shove it back into the shadows it had come from. I crossed the ballroom floor and attempted to embed my dagger into the neck of a nephilim that sought to speak his foul tongue among the crowd. Then the Princess herself intervened, she threw her arm in the way of my blade and my thanium dagger laid a cut upon her arm. Simply examine her to know the truth of my words. Her inaction towards the corruption festering in her city now turned into a horrid defense of it. Her actions are inexcusable. Then at this moment a BSK Soldier and an Olog who had been pursuing this nephilim sprung forth to aid me. Brave individuals both, for we were surrounded by those who only sought to protect the beast’s ability to spew his corruption upon the world. Both were mercilessly cut down by a horde of Nephilim and Celia’norian mali despite their attempts to ease the crowd that had been so recklessly whipped up by Abdiel and Zodd. I just managed to escape as the Valah and Olog held them off for me to beseech the people of Almaris. I beg of the kind hearted and fair people of Celia’nor and of all of Almaris, do not allow taint to stain your cities. Fight against it in all of its forms. Signed, [!] A public letter would be sent to all corners of Almaris. Below the letter would be a list attached: Abdiel - A Cursed Being of Red Skin Zodd - A follower of Azdromoth with a forge in Celia’nor Coalskinned Azdrazi with Scales and Horns, Red Eyes - A Nephilim of Azdromoth who frequents Celia’nor
  3. To the Grand Duchy of Balian On 5th of The Deep Cold, SA 84 It has come to my attention that I, Prince Kosher Daesmon of Amaethea, must remind you of what belongs to you and your lands- and consequently what belongs to me. The elf known as Jarad Munnel belongs to me and has belonged to me for quite some time, as he was made a Count and granted a vassal within Amaethea. I find it quite odd why you would not only strip a man of his titles and banish a man who no longer belongs to you- but who also abdicated his titles before departing. To my understanding, and you may have forgotten, but that is alright I will remind you presently. Abdication means one gives up an oath or a position of power, which to my understanding that Laurir Munnel did. I sincerly apologize that the lands of Amaethea prove to be more beneficial to the wellbeing of such a man as Laurir Munnel. Perhaps if you write enough, you can write up a better Empire than the one you fled. Just a thought, since it does seem as though you love to write nonsense about my denizens. All the Best, Prince-Royarch Kosher Daesmon, Prince of Malinor and Amaethea, Hand of Justice, Golden Tiger of the West
  4. The Amaethean Foreign Legion On 18th of Sun's Smile SA 84 With the degrading state of Almaris, combined with the deteriorated state of the Glaiveguard, I, Prince-Royarch Kosher Daesmon, find it absolutely necessary that in this age of Mercenaries and warriors to create an Auxiliary unit based off of the growing need of foreign fighters by the nations of the continent. Thus, with the power vested in me, by my position. I created the Amaethean Foreign Legion (AFL) as a subunit of the Glaive Guard and House Daesmon, directly reporting to thee, Prince Royarch of Amaethea. This will be cemented in perpetuity until another commander is vetted and trained in this position of power. The position in charge of the AFL will be named ceremoniously “Commandant.” The Commandant will hold the title of Lord within Amaethea for as long as the position is held. The ranks will be given as the following: Commandant The commanding officer of the Legion. They create the rules of the Legion under their supervision, in their time in the AFL, they hold ultimate authority over the Legion foreign forces, only such authority is surpassed by the Lord Commander and Prince-Royarch. Their task is to lead the armed forces, and devise plans and strategies amongst their own advisors and their colleagues, they are to listen however to the Lord Commander of the nations army, they are the driving force and the leading charge, anyone who holds this rank has expectations to meet and must directly report to the Prince Royarch and (or) Lord Commander =+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Lieutenant The only position of middle command of the AFL. There can be up to 3 at any given time in the AFL, though it can be less depending on the size of the order at any given time. The task of Lieutenant has always been a change in history, given many cultures and national affairs within different nations, here however the Lieutenant is the overseer of those under him, the Commandant's most trusted advisors during battles, and the best of the best in the battlefield are also given this rank. Furthermore the task of the Lieutenant, is to assist the Commandant, and the other leaders including the Prince Royarch, in in field battle analysis alongside battle plans and training overseeing of former Knights. They would be what most consider the second in command. =+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Knight Lowest rank of the official Legion. Those who have been awarded this rank are seasoned veterans, and have been inaugurated into AFL by the Commandant. These Are the Finest warriors that make up the larger number of the Legion, they’d be renown and widely known among their people. Upon given this rank, the duties of a Knight would be to assist the commadants in missions, as well as furthering the training of their squires and recruits. =+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Squire This rank is given to those who have passed all requirements, and have exceeded the training. Upon being given this rank they will be a member of the Legion, but still have a long road ahead of them. They would be training under all the other higher official members, and would make up most of the Legion forces. =+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= Recruit. Members who have yet to prove themselves worthy to be joined into the ranks of the AFL, a trainee rank. They will be given many harsh and rough tasks, all which must be completed to the exact point. Upon failing these task, or the expectations of the higher ups, the Recruit undergoes an exam, if failed they will be removed from the AFL along being stripped of their rank beforehand. With this, the actions of the AFL do not reflect Amaethea even though they are an auxiliary unit. AFL contracts do not reflect the opinions of the state’s administration or their allies. Ceru’Na Amaethea Signed Kosher Daesmon- Prince of Amaethea and Malinor, Hand of Justice, Golden Tiger of the West
  5. A Prince’s Pondering [!] Artist depiction of Prince Kosher Daesmon writing down his ideas (Circa 81 S.A) =+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= The Prince had been locked away for days in his tower overlooking the shining city of Caras y Tennellar. Hunched over, slaving away over writing decrees and plans to revive his civilization, only to crumple up and throw them to the side like the others. "Garbage." He spat, the piles of parchment laying discarded in the dusty corner. He had faced a dilemma, a challenge he had never had to face before in his over sixty years on the continent. He faced having to govern. The ambition to gain power had stemmed from his youth. After all, being the bastard of an ambitious lizard from the Hollow came with its perks and downsides. After spending a lifetime of being a bandit nobleman, a darkspawn turned knight of light, snaking his way through the politics of Almaris like a mole through tunnels. He put down the quill for a moment, the scratching of the quill on parchment subsiding as silence filled the room. He would quietly get up from his desk, rubbing his eyes as he looked about. The morning sun would blind him, his crimson locks, usually neat, would be rough and stuck together. His clothes would be wrinkled and filthy, though he hadn't left the confines of the study for days prior. He would sigh in relief as he stretched his legs, a yawn escaping the young 'ame as he blinked and adjusted to the brightness of dawn. “Perhaps I should take a walk.” As the Prince walked down from his study, he would glance at the throne that stood high above the seats of the citadel, the carpet below stained red from the blood of the men and women who had been executed there for years. Memories of family, friendship, and betrayal soaked there as a reminder of the hardships of stability. He would sit on the throne, looking at the murals on the walls as memories passed through his mind. For twenty years he had worked to sit on that throne, now that he had it there was no one left to rule. Next thing he knew, he was walking through the city, boots echoing with every step on the cobble as the streets lay bare, begging for any sort of life to come back. Streets once occupied by children, bakers, brave soldiers, artisans, smiths, even Templars of light, now succumbing to the graying of time. Reaching the end of the road to the stairs, he would stop in front of a manor on the cliff. His manor. Their manor. A single tear would roll down his face, thinking of how his wife and eldest daughter left suddenly without a single word to him. The Bastard, The Bandit, The Traitor, The Snake, The Soldier, The Prince. Kosher would sigh, realizing the futility of his situation. Anyone smarter, even him if he was, would've quit trying to help the dying city. He considered letting it rot, succumb to the tests of time. Yet, he shook his head like he had before, disgusted he even conceived the notion of doing so. None of that mattered to him, for the halls of his domain may lay empty and unoccupied for now, but the shining sea glimmering in the sun’s light was enough for the Prince as he climbed onto the sea wall. He stayed there for a long time, pondering the purpose of his existence and why he had chosen to come here with the goal to become Prince. He would look out to the sea, memories of his father nearly killing him in those very walls flooding to him as the sea called to his ears, the salty air reviving him. He had lost many friends in the very city he now led, blood staining the images of the beautiful realm within his mind. Then, it hit him… The beam of light struck him in the eyes, the Prince falling back and hitting his head on the pavement as he fell into the dream. Flashing lights, blood spurting, bodies littering the floor, the city he called home burning once more. He would be a helpless bystander as he saw this vision.. Not a vision, he thought. A Nightmare. Then, he saw himself explode into flames as he led a final charge, shuddering as he saw his soldiers retreat after getting the last survivors out. Then it rewinded. He would see himself burst into flames once more, but this time a beam of light striking the warrior prince as Kosher watched on, awestruck by the sight. He saw a being of pure light emerge, taller than the Prince, stronger, better than him. He watched as the warrior struck down the beings of dark, a merciless rampage ensuing as rage boiled in the being, only stopping after he had severed the life from every last one of the attackers that had harmed his people, his crown, his family. The being of pure light would turn to the young prince, the blinding light subsiding as for the first time the bystander could see who exactly emerged in his place. Kosher would gasp, not able to catch his breath as he saw Himself. As the Sea Prince would open his eyes, he’d wince in pain as he realized what happened. For a while, he would lay there looking at the stars that had risen in his deep slumber that had wasted an entire day’s opportunity. Long after the full moon had risen and lit up the whole city, he finally found the time to begin getting off the hard cobblestone street. He would sit up, reaching his hand up and touching the area of pain on his head. A searing pain would shoot through him as a sudden headache came about, forcing the Prince to halt his recovery in order to process the amount of pain he had been put through from a simple fall. Pulling his hand back, it would be slick with blood seeping through the scabs that had formed between his hairs. None of that mattered to him though, as one name echoed through his head. A name that sounded as though it were sent by the Aenguls to guide him. A word that gave him a reinvigorated hope for the future, and a final goal to attain in order to save not only his people, but maybe even the continent. The one word that rang out like a bell to him as he had seen the being of light, Raphael.
  6. The Elvenesse NFT Auction! With the new rebuild in place, we need more mina to do cool things. So today I'll be auctioning off NFTs of Elvenesse characters! (This does not mean you own the characters except for Amaesil. Zilldude has given consent. I wish Chase did.) All auctions will start off at 500 mina. Just remember that these are RARE NFTs. All raisings of bids need to be of increments of 50. OOC Name: ____ ING: ____ IRP Name: ____ Bid: ______ ULTRA RARE NFT: Evar'tir in the dark Epic NFT: Amaesil McZilldude Rare NFT: Medli Raining Rare NFT: Inconspicuous Elf
  7. [!] Before you is a beautifully written missive, graced with simple yet hauntingly delicate drawings of flowers that look real but also have a surreal feel to them, giving the reader a sense of magic in the simple art of drawing plants. (ooc: Image from the Voynich manuscript) Greetings, my Mali brothers and sisters around Almaris! I want to remind you all of a very special phrase to me, one that I believe ought to serve to unite us all rather than divide us. Health and Progress. Under the guise of following this phrase, many individuals have been unjustly killed, but the ideas of health and progress are not responsible for this. In fact, when one meditates on the meaning of the words health and progress, one finds that they condemn the actions of racial purists just as much as they condemn the actions of religious zealots and anyone who prefers feeling over logic, opinions over fact. These words serve as a rallying cry for all beings to push for progress: To progress the world to the point of minimal suffering as quickly as possible. I know not any reason why one should reject this call. The thing that can unite the vast majority of peoples, cultures, and religions across the world is that we all want a word where people are healthier and happier. And thus, I want to invite you all to discover just one of the many ways we can bring about this progress! Many people look at mages and wonder, "What would it be like to be able to do such magical things?!" but they are discouraged from becoming mages themselves. For me, it was the characteristic loss of strength that goes with learning voidal magic that drove me away from the arcane arts. Yet even the simplest looking of plants can posses the most magical powers! Some plants help to muffle, or lower body heat to the point of hypothermia. Other plants help wounds to heal quickly or decades old scars to heal. These simple plants deserve our attention and respect, as they can do things that even our strongest warriors cannot. I believe botany is the key towards progressing our world towards health and happiness! And so, I would like to invite all my Mali brothers and sisters to study botany with me this Mali Saturday, or Saint's Saturday as they might say in a Cannonist area (ooc: ok idk how else to tell u when its gonna be. Don't judge!). I am not a professional botanist by any means, only an individual who has newly discovered the beauty of plants! Hopefully we can inspire some people to study weeds! Signed, Luthriel Paleth -let out of prison with out trial due to government corruption, don't mind me snooping around Haelunor instead of rotting away in a cell while i wait for my purity trial-
  8. “Take from this bowl and write what you fight for on the stag” The elf prince said to the young ranger he nodded to the prince and dipped his hand into the bowl coating his hand in the ashes with in walking up to the statue of the giant stag he brought his finger to the smooth material of the statue writing ‘family’ as he stepped back from the statue he looked at the writing of so many other around him, he knew they were in for a fight they would know if they would win..but he was going to fight for his home and what he held dear His family Cypress sat there awake, his father and mother fast asleep with his two younger siblings and twin brother also in rest at the little room within the owl’s perch. however he was unable to rest easy, his family was safe but something nagged at the back of his mind. The young ranger stepped out of the room being quiet so as not to wake any others within the tavern, so many people who in one day lost their home just like him. Once outside he took a long breath. He could smell some smoke but it was distant but he could still remember the smoke that invaded his lungs only hours ago, the sound of swords clashing and the yells of people in panic and some yelling orders. It was all fresh in his mind and it all had been too real he felt horrible as he let something cloud his mind during all that fighting as much as he didn't want to admit. The fear of death and loss He had many conversations about it before with the man he long considered his mentor, john. The hours he spent training and talking with him, he was as much of a parental figure to him as the brylynn who took him and his brother in so long ago yet in the moments of terror and chaos in the fight he felt he failed not only the brylynns but also john, as he had barley helped fight and spent more time running in fear like a coward. He had been unable to even speak to his fellow rangers after they came back, looking at all the people tired and burned, during that time and even now he couldn’t shake how these people fought hard and all he had been able to do was run, even his own father who he had seen sitting in the room earlier in extreme pain with scorch marks barley even able to stand let alone stay awake. The young ranger sighed as he continued towards where he left his steed, carefully untying the horse and hopping on its back “come on let's go” he commanded the horse as they took down the path towards elvenesse or what was left.. The young ranger came to near the burning city stopping as his horse did not dare to go any closer, the smell of ash and smog he had smelled before once again infesting his lungs as he coughed but nonetheless he stayed there the same words ringing in his mind over and over like a broken record that wouldn’t leave his mind. Coward, failure, weak His eyes welled up with tears as he clenched tightly to the reins of his horse to the point his knuckles turned white under his gloves, as he just began sobbing as he hunched over as he couldn't hold them back anymore and at least there was no one there with him to see such, he wasn’t sure how long he stayed there for before he finally just couldn't cry anymore, he managed to muster himself up to get his horse to move once more as he headed back. OOC
  9. The Heists of The Elvenesse Athenaeum “Dammit!” The Fox cursed to himself as the dingeys the thieves had rowed in could not breach the walls of Elvenesse-they were just out of reach. He looked behind him to the four others in the boats, with the short Guildmaster saying with a calm and determined demeanor “we shall find ah weh in. To the front.” The Sphinx and The Panther lead the rowing as those of the Master Thieves Guild broke the waves and grounded at the next coast, tying their dinghies to the shores of the worn roads leading to the Seat of Elvenesse. Through silent movements did those in greedy green go through the lush brush leading up to Elvenesse, and then through the gates-as if left open just for them. A group of five rush through, right towards The Elvenesse Athenaeum, and then stop to catch their breaths in the deathly quiet of the empty library. “Yeah, whole city probably heard us” The Raven jabs in a snarky tone, fixing their jostled mask. “Panther thinks that is no issue if we are fast” the ‘Pantera adds, as their short leader leads them past by dusty tomes and newly printed script alike, to take a lift down into the bowels of the earth. As they entered the bottom floor of the Library, the band of thieves made their way into an equally quiet room, which held many things before them; though their eyes were set on a singular ring. Laying before them on a red velvet pillow was the Ring of Edrahil, Elven Lord of yore. With a quick swipe, The Raven relinquished the Library of their burden of the ring, and presented it to The Guildmaster. “To yer Greediness” spoken with that same snarky tone, which garners a smirk from The Untiring Man. “Leave our message” he orders as he gives a hard gaze at the entrance. A bit more pilfering the crew did, and then a failed attempt by Raven to enter the Vault of the Library, and then the thieves took their leave. As they rounded the corner of the property, masks and garb still worn with stolen ring in hand, Evar’tir the Sea Prince stood in between them and the exit. With a lightning-fast about-face the crew hightailed it out to the docks just like had been planned in case of such, the thieves always willing to adapt. Diving into the bay the thieves had made their daring escape, jostling each other by the shoulders with exuberant laughter that rocked the dinghies they rowed in, back to sea, to do the same in 2 years time. After two years had passed, it was time for the thieves to convene again. Leaving from their keep, and taking the same method of travel, those of greedy disposition made haste through the front gates once more, as if they were citizens of Elvenesse. Under the spotted light that poured from the canopies overhead did the crew weave and thread themselves through to enter the Library once more. Descending just the same, this time the Helm of the Bard was stolen, and with the accompaniment of Master Thief The Virtuous Man the Vault was no match for Raven’s second attempt. Into the vault of immeasurable riches the thieves poured and grinned greedy grins, running their hands through gems and gold before their Guildmaster reminded them of why they were there. “Take as maneh books as ye can hold, and let us depart.” Or so he said, before going to run his hand through gems himself, mesmerized as the thieves pilfered books of untold worth from the vault. Then, the sounds of footsteps, to which was none of theirs, was heard beyond the door of the Vault. “We’ve been had!” exclaims The Raven, as The Untiring Man gathers the rest of the thieves to make a quick departure before the guards found them in a corner! They speedily ascend the lift, yanking fiercely on the rope to hasten their ascent, when suddenly it dawned on them: they had left the Master Thief Virtuous behind! “He’ll be foine” Fox says confidently, "He's a Master Thief right? Let's hope he's a Master of Escape as well." Untiring hides behind a wall at the entrance of the lift, sickly blade drawn “We cannae wait for him here, he’ll be able ta make et out himself. Let’s go.” And with that, they speed out, helm and books in tow this second time, as an elven lady follows their trail, but is eventually outran, as the thieves make a second successful Heist. As they make it back to their Den of Thieves, the helm and ring are set on marble pillars, openly, for all the thieves of the Master Thieves Guild to known and be reminded; the reach of Greed has no bounds.
  10. THE START OF THE LONG DISPUTE [!] A well drawn picture of a few rustlers outside of the gates of Elvenesse. Just over two years had passed since the last attack on the Woodland Realm. The elves of Elvenesse had thought they were safe... But everything changed when the Rustlers attacked. Today is a day of triumph. The Wardens- cowards. Sitting high up in their towers, useless to the onslaught the Rustlers brought upon them. Arrows flying through the air- falling upon rock and dirt, only to be picked up and loaded into the crossbows of the very Rustlers they were shooting at. No iron clashed upon any soldier, no blood was spilt. - The citizens took their place. Massacred, robbed from, forced into hiding during the slaughter. No Wardens on horses rode through the city. Instead, they hid in their tower in an act of cowardice. Time and time again, Elvenesse has lied - coming up with continuous nonsense about winning raids, killing people, and the ‘might’ of their cowardly army. No more shall it continue. They shall be brought to light for their chants of ‘victory’ over the likes of the Orcs, Rustlers, and Ferrymen. This marks the start of the long dispute. [!] A well drawn picture of the rustlers after they stole a painting of an elven warrior. [!] A well drawn picture of the rustlers.
  11. “To Safeguard Happiness” The Elvenesse Revelry Guild The Aegis Adventurers Seen typically within fine taverns or wandering the beautiful streets of Elvenesse, those within the Wyn’okar are not out-going adventurers or mercenaries but morerather fun-loving individuals or seasoned veterans of whom seek to improve the homelife and participate in different activities Elvenesse has to offer. They are the homefront guild, those who wish to see the city prosper. Those within the revelry guild are those who enjoy the warm moonlit nights in festivals or the hot summers in the forest racing against their friends in competitive games. The Revelry guild also promotes the ideal that all citizens should have basic training and are ready to fight, as to protect the homefront in times of danger. For who better to match steel with steel in raids than those who are passionate for their country? Guild structure and role The Wyn’okar is based mainly around event organisers and simple members who associate with the guild, apart from that there is no ranking. The revelry guild is a guild designed around event organisation within Elvenesse and its lands and for that reason activities will typically remain within such limits. The guild prospers around promoting cultural teaching, homeland defence, drinking, sports and living life to it’s best capabilities. “Yallrn’eyha bida!” - “Live and Drink!” Application and Upon joining The Wyn’okar application process is simple, sign up and attend its activities. There’s no uniform and there’s no enforcement to attend - though it is best advised - the main purpose of the guild is to promote community activities, allow individuals to create new friends during such activities and improve the homeland of Elvenesse tenfold. Many within the Wyn’okar are taught light history in both Sea and Wood elven culture which further allows them to teach and welcome newcomers to Elvenesse, especially those who are from estranged Sea or Wood elven backgrounds. Application For those wishing to come join the land of Elvenesse and take part in it’s activities there is a small letter pre-written and attached at the bottom of the poster, allowing for one to send a message to a designated location via avian. (Send a forum message or message within the Elvenesse Discord) IC: Name Race Age Citizen of Elvenesse? OOC: Username: Discord: - Out Of Character Description - The Wyn’okar is an event organising guild, this is a prime place for those who wish to get involved in roleplay within Elvenesse to find a group to get engaged with. I plan on holding a wide variety of events, from fun stuff like races down rivers, constant parties and culture learning rp. You’ll also get a little bit of PvP training, CRP training and so forth, meaning it’s a well rounded guild for those who wish to join a society to roleplay with inside of Elvenesse whilst also developing themselves.
  12. The Maehr’evar Order The Guardians of Knowledge Overview The long lives of the Elves tend to draw them to scholarly pursuits, either to fill a want for adventure, so they may improve their own knowledge and wisdom, or so they can protect knowledge and the world for future generations. The Maehr’evar seeks to be a place for the Elves who seek to learn, research, write, teach, and explore. Their duties are as varied as they are important. Headquartered in the Great Athenaeum of Elvenesse, this group of scholars and adventurers are always seeking new recruits to improve both the nation of Elvenesse and the world at large. Structure The Maehr’evar are organized in a loose but effective structure, which tends to serve their purposes well. The ranks of the order are as follows: Grandmaster The Grandmaster of the Maehr’evar has the duty of keeping tabs on those below him in the order and allotting resources to different projects. It is he who organizes meetings of members, calls major expeditions, maintains the library and its collection, and who deals with both foreign scholarly guilds and the Council of Elvenesse. The position is currently held by Elros Silma. Masters of the Order Masters of the Order are those who are experienced at their craft and can serve as a bridge between the Grandmaster and the Ordermen. Generally, there is to be a Lorekeeper, who is to coordinate the librarians, writers, and teachers of the order, and the Scoutmaster, who focuses more on expeditions, adventurers, and cartographers. Ordermen The Ordermen of the Maehr’evar is the rank and file position of the guild. They are all considered equal scholars and adventurers of repute. They may lead their own projects, write their own books, and teach their own lessons as they will, and they may help each other on larger projects when needed. Journeymen The Journeymen are those who just joined the Order and seek to become Ordermen. They are to hold an apprenticeship under a current member of the Order, preferably one with similar interests, in order to learn our ways, tenets, and procedures. Once deemed ready to start their own projects by the one whom they are shadowing, they are inducted into the order as full Ordermen. Duties The members of the Maehr’evar can be anything they want within the wider category of scholars, and may determine their own projects. They may freely move between any field they have interest in. However, many projects will tend towards a few areas, broadly categorized as writing, research, teaching, and exploration. Writing An imperative part of preserving knowledge and enhancing culture is to create new works, both artistic and educational in nature. The Maehr’evar will encourage and sponsor works of create and non-fiction writing among the people of Elvenesse, in order to expand our collection and enhance our peoples culture and knowledge. Research In order to learn and to record knowledge, one must seek it out. This may be through visiting other libraries to read or purchase copies of new books, by looking at ruins found by explorers, or by looking into the powers and effects of the less dangerous artifacts within our possession. Teaching It is no use to horde knowledge if you do not pass it on to future generations. Hence, teachers and librarians who organize lessons and help people find the books and knowledge they seek are another important facet of the order. Exploration The final major task of the Maehr’evar is the exploration of the world to find ruins to explore, monsters to fight, and dark cults and covens to exterminate. We seek to map the world, note where places of interest are, and deal with them as necessary, independently or with the help of other, more combat focused groups. The Maehr’evar Code The Ordermen swear to uphold this code upon entry to the guild, the four rules of the Maehr’evar Order. Breaking these rules bring you under the mercy of the Grandmaster, and can warrant anything from a warning to expulsion from the order. I. Unwarranted Harm Or Death Should Be Avoided At All Costs. We’re here to codify the world, not turn it into a pile of ash and bones. II. The Sovereignty Of Nations Shall Be Respected At All Times. While it pains us to allow knowledge to go unrecorded, or worse, for dangerous knowledge to run amuck, it is not our place to supercede any nation. It is best to not become criminals in the eyes of the world. III. Knowledge Should Be Treated With Respect And Care. It is difficult to index burnt books, or to categorize a destroyed relic. Obviously not everything we attempt to collect will survive it’s travel to the guildhall, but try to not willingly break things. Nothing is worse than lost knowledge. IV. Power Merits Respect. Along with the mundane, we may often collect pieces of extraordinary danger. Proper respect should be given to such things, and they should never be trifled with. Understand that pieces that have been deemed ‘restricted’ are not toys we horde for ourselves, but are items we guard the world from. The Great Seals The Maehr’evar Order grades every piece of knowledge in their possession with a seal. The seals are red-wax, and the individual stamps are in the possession of the Grandmaster. Each Seal is stamped with a piece of parchment which gives a brief detail of the object, and any needed information. There are four seals in total: Mundane, Guarded, Prohibited, & B.C. The Mundane Seal is the most common, and identifies this piece as typical knowledge, giving it the lowest rating of danger/power. All pieces which are open for public viewing, such as the books in the public library, are stamped with Mundane Seals. Mundane seals are given the mark ‘M’. An item with a Guarded Seal means that this item is normally only to be handled by Ordermen. These items are considered a bit too dangerous to be shown to the public, but on request may be taken from the reliquary to be studied or used by outside forces. This seal is marked with a ‘III’ symbol. The Prohibited Seal signifies that this item is of immense power or otherwise value, and should never leave the reliquary under any circumstances. These are pieces which are kept away from the world due to high risk of abuse. Even Ordermen are disallowed from viewing these pieces, and need the express permission, as well as chaperoneship of, the Grandmaster. The mark of this charm seal is a bolded ‘X’. Finally, the B.C. Seal is the most important of all the graded seals, and is given independent of the others. This means a piece can have both the B.C. Seal as well as one of three previous seals.. Standing for ‘Black Contingency’, any item with this seal is to be destroyed if at risk of falling into outside hands. Obviously, only items which are deemed as near cataclysmic are ever given this charm seal. The B.C. Seal is the only time any piece of Knowledge is marked for destruction, and holds a rather powerful and somber place in the Order’s culture. It’s mark is a ‘Skull’ symbol. How to Join In order to join the Maehr’evar, a candidate should seek out the Grandmaster in person or start a correspondence via bird. The Grandmaster will then set up a short interview with potential candidates to gauge their interests and disposition so he can match them with an Orderman to study under. Once deemed ready, the Grandmaster will give the Journeyman the Oath, at which point they will become a full Ordermen of the Maehr’evar. As a note, those seeking to join must be citizens of Elvenesse, or at least able to enter the city. OOC Notes
  13. THE LEGION OF PURITY Issued from The Publications of The Legion of Purity 10th of The Grand Harvest, Year 13 of The Second Age Long since have We pure bloods been tainted by the perversions and lustful nature of the people of Elvenesse. Time and time again, Mali’thill who travel to the tainted lands of the Tree Demons fall under the despicable spell which tarnishes the purity of their very blood. The cause? The Mali’ame of Elvenesse, as well as the Druids and the faux ‘pure’ elven race who reign over the common folk there. Perversions of the idea and fact of Purity. Lustful demonic spells that corrupt the minds of even Our own blessed and untainted blood. And thus, a new generation of Mali’thill are born to defend and protect our principals. A new age for Haelun’or and a new initiative. The revolution has begun to reclaim what was lost, to prevent future damage and tarnish. We are the Legion of Purity, those who fight for the cause Larihei left behind, those who wish to see a world where Mali’thill appreciate purity more than lust and worldly desire. This is the Legion, and long may We live. This is the revolution, this is the time to make a difference in our state and abroad. So hear Us, you have a place in this Legion. In this mission, and in this concept. No longer will We stand to watch our Mal’onn and Lari’onn’s goodwill and faith be destroyed by those who are below them. Those who live in dirt holes and share wives. It is time for Us Mali’thill to stand up, grab our pens or swords, and make a difference. So We the Legion declare all Mali’thill capable of joining our cause. And thus, rewards will be granted for those who work the most, for those whose passion to destroy that which makes us bleed. Our mission is to confront Elvenesse, to confront Mali’thill… to bring us back to the old ways and to give everyone a position worthy of their name and their ability. You may work as a writer, you may join as a blade, you may sell items to fund the cause. Whatever you can think of you can do in this Legion, so long as it helps the influence of Our name around the world. So hear Us, and be Us. CHAIN OF COMMAND Chairman - Silvyr Uradir Deputy Chairman - Kiljarys an Iarwain General Secretary - Kolvar Uradir Party Executive - Maeve Elibar’acal Publications - Illyara Valarieth Publications - Lleinde Tillun’sae Publications - Amberleigh Uradir JOBS: WRITER- For publications ARTIST- For publications TRADER- Funds the cause COLLECTION EXPERT- Collects on our enemies MEDIC- Heals the wounded TAILOR - Makes red articles of clothing DISTINCTION: A member of the Legion of Purity always wears some article of red clothing to show their solidarity with Our movement. It can be a scarf, robes, capes, or full outfits. OUR PURPOSE: The establishment of the Grand Constitution provided us the foundation upon which to raise the mali’thill to new heights of greatness. In order to properly utilise our blessed new system of governance we require a unified vision and a shared unbreakable will to bring forth our goals to their fullest potential. This is why the Legion of Purity was formed: to raise a unifying banner under which the pure Mali'thill - those dedicated to combating both Mali'ata and the degeneracy that threatens our lliran and pure oem'iian - may rally. To be a member is to declare yourself as ideologically committed to the cause of defending the Motherland whatever the cost, to believe in the strength of a vigilant society,to not cower from conflict and to both denounce and actively work to oppose the Mali’ata which plague our realm. Larihei beckons you, lliran - join the Legion of Purity today! LONG LIVE THE LEGION! On behalf of the Legion of Purity Command, Medi'ir and Chairman Silvyr Uradir
  14. Ajax Frostbeard in his usual stint of writing has composed a new song! Posting it quickly in the tavern hall in Urguan's mountain holme he returns to his home to make additional copies, wishing to send them out to the other nations of the world. His hopes are this song can become popular enough and be enjoyed outside the kingdom as well. The Indomitable Cavalryman I'm Haenseti, I'm Norlan Im a Holy Oren son Charging Khazadmar across the plain I'm the lancer on a dun I'm an Uruk on the run I'm a Horseman here to bring you pain. Was with Verthaik and the 7th 16-06 or was it 7? Countless Urguan footmen i did hew And the tears and tribulation Of that proud dwardmari nation Them I know because I was riding with them too And I ate rations on the run, Riding with the Uruk hun In the distant redrock steppe while in their prime Whether coalition, or sedition, in these wars' painful attrition I had burned down your village in the night And I knew the Fierce Sultan, and rode their swift arabians Harassing heavy northmen upon their heavy drafts. And yet I rode the Pereshan against the Federal Suitican And once again blood in sand was cast. (well) I'm Haenseti, I'm Norlan Im a Holy Oren son Charging Khazadmar across the plain I'm the lancer on a dun I'm an Uruk on the run I'm a Horseman here to bring you pain. Well I've worn the Talon's Crimson If you're quiet and you'll listen You'll know that It was with him that I stood When along the ports kids cried as their mounted constable died Cut down by highwaymen's cold blood. Well I's the prancing heavy lancer when I fought beside Ruskan dancers Suffrage of Haenseti's Oren Raids. And mine was not to question why Mine was but to do or die In Elvenesse, with their Charging Light Brigade On mountain high in Rocky eden Be me Urguan be me Heathen The Traitor to the hammer I will put With A Crack Flanking Maneuver I'm a Norlan mounted trooper Striking Terror into Landsknecht men on foot. (well) I'm Haenseti, I'm Norlan Im a Holy Oren son Charging Khazadmar across the plain I'm the lancer on a dun I'm an Uruk on the run I'm a Horseman here to bring you pain. Well I knew my days are numbered As all the fortresses lumber More modern innovations then again No match for arcane fire, or Dorimnur's Cannon-shot With a swift rear guard action i retreat. No Match for Pikeman's Ire, or Hefty Golems fought Reluctant, I retire and take my leave. These days I ride as special forces On those wild Druidic horses To those southerners we give our thanks And no matter which side deployed on If you want this battle won, You'll always need me to strike at their flanks. (well) I'm Haenseti, I'm Norlan I'm a Holy Oren son Charging Khazadmar across the plain I'm the lancer on a dun I'm an Uruk on the run I'm a Horseman here to bring you pain. I'm a horseman here to bring you pain. Was with the Greenskins as they pleaded To find the wells so badly needed And The Kahazad War rams charging Oren ranks Saw high elves mount struck down in a haenseti town The Night We charged the empire down As we piled them both up like cordwood planks
  15. 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, laying the foundations for everything we take for granted. And then, I think about our future. However, I am not sure what to think. I am afraid. I am afraid that once again, the ‘ker will be forced to wander, not having the luxury of having a long term home. One that they can depend on to raise their children in, and give them a sense of belonging. Many places have done this in the past, but with things the way they are now, the future is uncertain at best. Some time ago, I spoke to my friends in the Royal Sylvaen family, and we discussed this. We spoke about how the ‘ker deserve a home. One that will last through time. But, after the discussion, I thought not much more of it. It wasn’t until the Inferi war where I was gravely wounded, where I had some time to rest and think about what I could do to help my people. I realized that what my people needed, was something that I could provide. After much thought, and with the blessing of my friends here in the Elvenesse council, I have decided to give birth to a new community of Mali’ker. A humble home, where we can express our culture, and be around our own kin. One where the needs of all ‘ker are met, and we can live in harmony. This new home will be named the Evarsae’ker, and it will be open to all and any Mali’ker who wish to work together for a brighter tomorrow; and I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make this more then a piece of land, this will be a home. A home where we can grow old, and leave a legacy for the next generation to follow, one that we can all be proud of looking back on at the end of our days. This, is my dream. And as I sail towards these new lands, where our future is unclear, I know one thing. Though I know we are facing down challenging times... I have hope. Signed, Sevrel Valin’dar Each missive would be signed by Sevrel, before they would be sent out to the 'ker that now wander in search of a home. [OOC]: if this sounds like something you are interested in, please feel free to shoot me a message on discord, Cherry Blossom 🌸⛄#9001 and ask any questions you might have. More will follow this post in the coming days, so do keep an eye out 😉 Meme RP encouraged
  16. = The Crown of Elvenesse = The Government of the Realm of Elvenesse, sometimes known simply as “the Crown” or as “His/Her Majesty’s Government”, is a hereditary constitutional monarchy which employs a broad-form ministerial Council of Lords to administer the united lands of the Elder Folk. It may be considered a restoration of the rightful Sylvaeri Princeship of Old Malinor, but is perhaps better characterized as the successor of Aegrothond and Siramenor which preceded it. The realm can trace its establishment to the year 1685, when forces loyal to Belestram and his House of Sylvaen founded a government-in-exile upon the island of Aegrothond, and raised their banners in opposition to the Gladewynnite usurpation of the Dominion. Over time, despite cycles of great tragedy and tribulation, the nation grew and expanded its breadth with treaties such as the Compact of Lathadlen (1712) among others, cementing its legitimacy until it stood as the sole descendant-state of the fallen Princedom. Efforts to achieve the glories of the elder days were halting, until the return of the Matriarch Awaiti Sirame to the fold. Together with Sea Prince Feanor, she established a lasting partnership between the Almenodrim of Aegrothond and the Wood Elves of Siramenor- a partnership which would slowly lead to a truly reinstated unity among the Elven folk who had once inhabited Caras Eldar. As the Elven People look forward to a new dawn in a new land, they do so not as Aegrothond and Siramenor but as Elvenesse the Great, under a united and representative government. This united Government consists of several constituent parts, affixed with the Crown itself (the High Prince, his family and Guard), and including the bicameral Council, wherein sit the delegated Lords-Minister who oversee vital operations on behalf of the nation. = The Crown = The High Prince Feanor Flameborn, of the House of Sylvaen (wandiferous) The High Prince is Lord of the Citadel and bearer of the Crown of Malinor, the standing heir of Sylvaen Everflame. He maintains a ceremonial and legal status as leader of the united Realm of Elvenesse, and oversees the Council. The High Prince traces descent from Malin himself, through the line of his first son; as such, the position is hereditary (though tanistry is sometimes used to determine an heir, see below.) The Royal Family The Royal Family is the assembled menage of all Elves in the immediate kin of the High Prince. They serve primarily to support the High Prince in various matters and to act as the tanistry pool from whence a successor may be chosen should the need arise. Many of these Elves are extremely active in the Realm, holding prominent advisory positions. The Honour Guard Also called the Oathblades, the Honour Guard serve as the backbone of Almenodrim culture in Elvenesse, and as the personal guards of the Royal Family. Any aspiring Elf may apply to join this organization, though they must apprentice under an existing Oathblade first and be willing to undertake a binding blood-oath. The Honour Guard has a reputation as being the right hand of House Sylvaeri, sometimes partaking in secretive and/or dangerous projects directly on behalf of the Crown. They tend to serve as military auxiliaries in times of war, subservient to their peers in the Sentinels. = The Crown Council = The Lords Exarch The Exarchs are the lawspeakers and judicial authority in Elvenesse, serving in the capacity of judges and interpreters of the law. They primarily ensure that the Law is maintained to reflect the betterment of the Elven People, and that it is not flaunted within the bounds of the Elven Domain. Peacekeeping and conflict resolution are among their main duties, as is presiding over court-cases based on the Codex. Evar’tir, of the Family Oranor (Bhased) Cullas, of the House of Sylvaen (KaiserThoren) The Lord Diplomat The Lord Diplomat is charged with the maintenance of international relations and the outreach on behalf of the Realm of Elvenesse to potential allies and friends of the Elven people. They work via brief granted by the Crown itself and maintain a small team of Ambassadorial Staff in order to ensure an efficient discharge of their duties. Olorin, of the House Telemnar (GildedDuke) The Lord Marshal The paramount master of military forces in Elvendom, leader of the Sentinels and overall commander of the White Fleet as well as any other auxiliary units that come under the auspices of military action on behalf of the Crown. Sits at the head of a triumvirate of Officers who manage the rank and file of the Sentinels. Aesilnoth, of the Tundrak Bloodline (ABruhhMoment) = The Domestic Council = The Head Steward The Citizen’s Warden, also known as the Head Steward, is tasked with ensuring the smooth operation of the housing and upkeep of the population of Elvenesse. The assembled Stewardry consists of individual stewards operating within the guidelines provided to them by the Head Steward. Evar’lae, of the Family Amayril (Cmmder_Jester) The Faith The Green Faith of Elvenesse, and its united priesthood, is represented upon the Inner Council by an individual known as the High Priest of Elvenesse. The Faith is responsible for the spiritual health and education of the united Elven people, for the upkeep of shrines and for the holding of Aspectist Festivals within the bounds of the Elven Lands. Sonna (Junoix) The Father Circle As the official Druidic Circle of Elvenesse, the Father Circle enjoys a Grove and protected status under the auspices of the Crown. It is led by example in the form of four seasonal Raitheans, one of whom sits upon the Domestic Council as their representative and liaison to the Crown. Miven, of the Seed Caerme’onn (WestCarolina) = The Omentahu = In times of strife or deliberation, the Government may call together the Chieftans and Lords of the great Seeds and Houses of Elvenesse in a People’s Council, colloquially known as the “Omentahu” after the Ame ritual of the same purpose. This allows the People to have their say on an issue, and make an indicative vote on the issue in order that the Crown may more accurately gauge their will. By this mechanism more seats and positions may be added to the Council, changes can be made to the law, and broad issues may be laid to rest. This ritual is called and overseen by the erstwhile Matriarch of the Ame. Awaiti, of the Seed Sirame (Irrin)
  17. [!] To the supply lines of the Firewatch and its allies, letters are stowed among the rations, addressed to no particular man or woman. It bears the royal insignia of Aegrothond and its whole. Further contextual reading allows the reader to grasp the purpose of the letter – an address to the common man, to those at the front, and those who prepare for war. To You, I write to inform you that the naval front gathers and proceeds as planned. I shall not elaborate on the details, but know that I am thankful. Without the help of you, this would not be so. What is a city, my friend? Perhaps it is a flame, and a leader is its keeper. To tend to the flames is to offer light and hope to kith and kin. By the fire may a candle be rekindled, and the cold be warmed. Fire perhaps is one of our greatest gifts. I write to you to tell you of the False Flame. These Inferi are forever doomed to a cycle of treachery. They live with meat-sweet hunger, craving all that they are denied, and readily betray each other for a grasp at power. All that they are is stolen from another, and so they can hold no power, and never truly create anything. They do not truly understand how to keep fire, for they cannot learn to keep anything - only take. I have been to their realm, and I have fought against them before. To the many, Aegrothond and its lands are known as a place of Sea Elves. Our mastery hails from the shipwright Eleron Sylvaeri - the last true High Prince of Malinor, and my ancestor. It is a legacy few grasp: the legacy of The Firstborn. Now it is a legacy of far many more Elves. It is a great Flame, to which many lives seek respite, and it is known not as Aegrothond, nor as Siramenor. It is now and forever only Elvenesse - and much as the Flame, Elvenesse prevails. Once I was a child of Light and Soulflame. Once I was a soldier, Praetor, Annilir, Prince - but in this moment now I am a keeper of fire. I have learned to forge the fallen star. I have uncovered the meaning of our soul’s flame, and the secret was never in its taking. Ride to the shores of Almenor, to the Elven South, for the woodlands will welcome your steeds. Sail to the bay, for your vessels are welcome. Take up your blade and flint. Champion not the flame of the Beast, but the flame in your soul. As for those who seek me - call me Flameborne. -Before the Gods of Wood and Stone: Fëanor Sylvaeri [!] A simpler notice, attached, but not addressed to any Descendant, distributed only to Korvassa. Judging by its contents, it is suited not to any prince or leader, but to any Inferi. You who bear False Flame, I tell you now. You know not the meaning of Fire, nor the Sword, yet you chase both. I know the secret of the Hammer, and I know the secret of the First Blade, and so I say that you are doomed to serpentine consumption: an ouroboros, the self devouring serpent, for you cannot understand anything but internal strife. I know that many of you were once Descendants, and I say you cannot fool anyone. Wear as many trinkets as you like. Every single ‘prince’ which rises from your ranks is doomed to be usurped, for that is the logic by which you live. Not a single prince among you was original, and every single one is similarly doomed to be felled. Send as many chained things as you wish. I will break them all. Long live the Free. Long live the Descendants of Man. Sea Prince of Caras Aegrothond, Prince of the Crown of Elvenesse. Bearer of the Crown of Storms, Keeper of the Arm of Aeriel. Descendant of the Firstborn Son of Malin. Flameborne.
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