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  1. The Ashen Realm of Nor'asath The final stone set Nor’asath a home for the formerly scattered cultures of Ker. On a path of a dominant land of Ker those of Velulite faith and the might of the collective clans By the decree of the lands, Primarch Netseth Loa’chil and the High Priestess Irlu Celia’ilum call upon those who wander the world within the new Nor’asath. A place to regain one semblance of their culture: music, art, and combative tradition. To all of those seeking connection, opportunity, family, and history you are welcome within these walls. Should your clan or following require a home you are welcome to bring your strength to a greater hegemony. Under the light of Luara and the accompanying stars, One takes the mantle of Primarch. To guide us further one takes the mantle of High Priestess to embody all that Velulaei stood for. A Sovereign of their mountain-wielding powers bestowed and earned. An ideal of competition is resolved. And faith that blessed Velulaei and her follower's weary bodies to lords of their mountain. Opportunity awaits within the southern hinterlands to build upon its foundation strength and culture for now by Velulaeis mandate by calling upon our people's merit to lay the bricks toward our glorious eternal place upon these lands. Come home lliran Coords are -2624, 1679 cya there.
  2. The Election of Okarir'tir; Result! date: The 5'th of Malin's Welcome, 85 of the SA. 1881 FA. [!] At the entrance of the Eternal Library, the citadel, Bastille and the noticeboard of Haelun'or rests a missive, pinned for all to read. [!] Mali'thill of Haelun'or! Your votes, your voices and choices have been counted and re-counted. And it is with appreciation that none of the votes were illegitimate. And with the majority support of the blessed, the new Master of Law will be: KAELAN ALDIN. Signed: Maheral Seth Calith
  3. Through bitter cold and perilous night. The migration of Nor'asath Everwinter cradled Nor’asath in its usual frigid fingers, coils of icy wind snaking down to the spiraling stone. The occasional flurry of snow blew its way into homes and halls alike; there was rarely warmth here unless one sat close to the burning hearths and braziers to force the chill from their bodies. Though grateful for the space given to them by the Fennfolk, Netseth knew his people could not stay here for the long haul. He dreamed of the sun smiling down upon happy ‘ker faces, they're familiar and beloved features gleeful and bright with joy and color, and decided to take the first step he had been putting off for so long. “We make for fairer lands and a place to call our own!” came his cry at the town meeting, a proclamation of change. “Gather your belongings, pack your wares, and be ready for the caravan; we leave in two Elven days!” A red-eyed ‘ker stood behind him, nodding at his words sagely. The already excited crowd broke out into cheers and frantic chatting, a bittersweet mix of hope for a new life and the sadness of leaving old friends behind. Dutiful mothers and fathers sprung into action immediately, hurrying home to prepare themselves and their children for the long journey ahead. The team of burly builders led by a master stonemason, her face as rugged and determined as the rock of which she sculpted, were already packed and ready to leave. Walls had to be built, after all, to keep her people safe. Two months had passed swiftly, and after one last conversation with the Fennfolk leader whom he had grown fond of, Netseth was ready to lead the caravan on its slow journey. He regarded his people with a gentle eye as they loaded up mules with cargo and preserved food, excited children dashing and weaving in and out of the crowd. Despite the glacial breeze nipping at their exposed faces, the air was one of warmth and excitement so thick that one could cut it with a knife. “We leave today. Though our journey shall be long, the spirit of our people will guide and uplift us,” he states, looking out over the eager faces as they fell silent before his shout. “With me, my kin!” Slowly but surely, the long trail of people and animals left the sparkling everwinter city behind. Stone houses capped with deep purple and dark oaken roofs, thick protective walls, and a moonshine temple were already standing by the time the caravan reached their promised land. The team of builders was already there, mingling with a cheerful group of ‘ker in decorative and vibrant clothing, headed by the red-eyed Prophet herself. Experts at the traveling lifestyle already, these Velulites had tents set up for the newcomers before they even arrived. Fires crackled merrily beneath boar-laden spits, sending heavenly aromas upwards to announce a welcome hot meal for the weary Nor’asath folk. “All that we have left to do is to furnish the houses,” the Prophet says to Netseth, greeting him with a polite nod of her head. “But first, we must make sure your people are rested after their long journey.” The weary male ‘ker simply nodded his head, allowing a kindly Velulite to guide him to an unoccupied tent as their kin did the same for the rest of his people. Finally, they were home. It had been mere months since both Nor’asathians and Velulites had permanently moved out of the tents and into the town, but already it thrived and bubbled with life and happiness. Despite their differing backgrounds, both groups found the merge smooth and without any particularly bad hurdles; Netseth the Leader and Irlu the Prophet gently guided their people towards prosperity, and their combined wisdom made for a pleasant leadership. “My people- Our people,” the Leader stated in one of his first public announcements. “We have traveled far, worked hard, put our faith in those around us, and we have been rewarded for it. I am proud of each and every one of you for your contributions, from the youngest child collecting sticks for the fire to the master stonemason who planned and worked tirelessly on our great settlement. My gratitude cannot be measured in words, but know that all of you are beloved here.” A rousing cheer erupted from the gathered crowd, leaving the Leader and the Prophet satisfied that all would prosper for many years. OOC: Come play a delf :D We have a cool town :D We do delf things :D (( City should be pasted soon big thanks to Belgianfry and British build god BritishPanda for leading the charge on the build)) ((Looking forward to everything Frott and I will accomplish on this one)) ((If anyones interested in joining in send a dm toward ColonelKuehl#6302 or Frott#4491
  4. 𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒓'𝒔 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒆𝒍 Hola! It’s been a while but I am back with yet another skin auction! I know it's been a year since my previous one, but I'm back with another one. All the bids will be in USD, because I am need funding. I am moving into a new apartment so all this money will be going to that! All bids will be starting at 11$ USD copy and paste this for the bidding format. DISCORD NAME: SKIN IM BIDDING ON: MY BID Rules ☼ Make sure the person you're trying to outbid is aware! ☼ ALSO! No reposting on PMC, please! Just because you bought the clothing doesn't mean you get to claim credit for making it; I still did! ☼ please contact me via PM. My discord is doreebear#3218 if you have any questions. ☼ I have the right to refuse to sell a skin to anyone. If they are a notorious skin thief, splice-er, post without attribution, or simply a toxic and terrible person, I will refuse to give them my skins. My skins, I feel, should go to individuals who value my work, others, and myself as a person. ☼ Unless I give you permission, you may not resell or put my skins up for sale/auction somewhere else. Auction will close On Friday the 13th at 4pm CST MALE Gray Gothic Blue-Pilled All for One and One for All Always Pay Their Debts You Know Nothing The Mad Prince Prospero FEMALE Adventures and Furs I would always rather be happy than dignified. You Poor Wretched Souls Nordic Goddess I and my Annabel Lee She's From the North
  5. Celia’nor Commission of Foreign Affairs Commissioned by Lady A’eollaja Ello’janna-Valwynn, the CCFA Is an international commission for the pursuit of improved foreign ties with other nations and economic prosperity through traders guilds and merchant organizations. ARTICLE 1) DIPLOMATIC BRANCH Made up of delegates under the leadership of a commissioner, delegates work between the lead nations of joint states. All actions by envoys and ambassadors require the approval of their lead commissioner, and incidents of crimes committed by delegates are to be treated as breaches of law, and to be sorted as seen fit by the Commissioner as to which court of law they are held responsible. ENVOYS) Envoys work specifically under Celia’nor, assigned sectors in which they are responsible for diplomatic relations, renewal programs for treaties, and keeping close relations with specific sectors. They are expected to report to the Commissioner regularly on their sector affairs, and are expected to get the Commissioner's approval for treaty renewal, or term changes. AMBASSADORS) Ambassadors are foreign diplomats who act as figures for foreign powers in Celia’nor. They are to be treated kindly within Celia’nors borders, and meetings about treaties, trade, and other affairs are to be held with the Commissioner, or Royal Family exclusively. MILITARY ATTACHES) A subposition both envoys and ambassadors can hold, attaches are military experts assigned to diplomatic outreaches. They are assigned to sectors or individual embassies, and expected to coordinate military efforts between nations, share military tactics, train military officers, and represent foreign militaries. An assigned sector is not to be diverted from, and an Envoy may only work with that sector and sector alone .They report directly to the commissioner, and are expected to follow orders. Engaging in criminal activity, breaking from one's post, or ignoring/manipulating orders can see an Envoy being removed or reassigned from their post to another. The commissioner is allowed to work in all assigned sectors, rule out Envoy’s and Attaches, and represent both the military and government of Celia’nor, but ambassadors are to be treated as sovereign officials of their representative nation, meaning they cannot be imprisoned, attacked, harmed, or injured by the State of Celia’nor or her territories. Envoys are expected to work on both outreach programs, such as medical outreach, educational outreach, book acquisition, trade support, and event support as part of public interest for Celia’nor. Current positions of the Diplomatic Branch) Commisioner: A’eollaja Ello’janna Sector North Envoy: UNFILLED Sector West Envoy: UNFILLED Sector East Envoy: UNFILLED Sector South Envoy: Mythradir Wynasul (@VoxyNoir) ARTICLE 2) MERCANTILE BRANCH Made of mercantile groups to increase trade between constituent states or independent groups for the purpose of trade and prosperity, the Commissioner signs off on matters of providing stalls with forteign business, relations between stewards and businesses to provide stalls, and supporting merchant groups in Celia’nor, and outside. Working closely with stewards of Celia’nor, the mercantile branch works towards PR relations and public sanctions for business, including sourcing small businesses for events, financially supporting ‘in-need’ businesses through grants or tax-exemptions, for qualifying businesses. During times of war and duress, all businesses however are expected and or required to abide by wartime economy, meaning they are expected to help produce war materiel. However, these businesses are to be funded by the state to help with mass production, and supply the state with rapidly created goods for incentivized funding. Foreign businesses are to be treated on a case by case incentivization, with promoting tax cuts and investment on a merit based case, seeking for more allocation of public affairs funding seen for more active and merited businesses to be entrusted with government funding. Businesses are allowed to form ‘industrial’ guilds, meaning similar trades are allowed to formalize connecting unions and guilds to allow for inner business trade, centralization, or other affairs between businesses. Businesses in Celia’nor reserve these rights: Businesses reserve the right to turn away customers. Businesses reserve the right to ban certain customers, except for those of noble privilege. Businesses reserve the right to create guilds. Businesses reserve the right to establish their own pay rates. Businesses reserve the right to protect against thievery, or therefore unlawful seizure of property by non-government officials. Businesses reserve the right to own multiple properties, but are required to show proof of usage of them. Businesses reserve the right to copyright and identity preservation of naming in Celia’nor Foreign investment is non-taxable on a businesses’ earning outside his or her state owed tax. Businesses are provided with a public forum in Celia’nor to post jobs, business advertisements, and event notifications. Businesses in Celia’nor are held to these standards: Businesses are expected to submit proof of contract of workers under their employment if they are not compensating workers. Only the bank of Celia’nor may exist in Celia’nor. Property taxes must be upheld, and if unpaid without alerting the government after warning, will lose any boons of funding by the government or have their property seized if not paying taxes within a reasonable time. Government officials are allowed to investigate, and if need be, seize unlawful items found inside businesses. Committing criminal acts including but not limited to: Fraud, Tax evasion, Tax evasion through offshore accounting, or other criminalized acts. Businesses are to hold their own job posting, and responsible for their own hiring. *(HOW TO APPLY)* [Message the commissioner through Forum PM’s with your IGN, Discord ID, and what position or role you are interested in filling!]
  6. THE ELVEN MASSACRE A large Warband set out to the forests of the Elveneese, the orcs with the company of the Ferrymen strode without opposition into the elven lands, passing by the elven gates with no guard to be seen. As the Orcs entered the elven lands they halted a simple elven citizen, fear filled his eyes as they surrounded him and bound him, taking him to the bridge connecting to the front gates of the Elveneese. As the Warband waited for the Elven guards to defend their citizens, they captured more elves, tying their bonds and displaying them before the gate, but the elven guards were nowhere to be seen as their citizens were rounded up. An Elven Lord stood within the limited safety of their gatehouse as they watched the Ferrymen round up more citizens, finding a group of female elves in the forest around a campfire. 50 Elves stood before the Elven gates, the Warband drawing their blades as they placed them against the soft necks of the elves, cries and pleas filled with air as everyone knew what was about to happen. In pure desperation the Elf Lord finally spoke going to propose a deal “I will pay you 300 minas to let my people go” The Warband laughed among themselves as Korgahk’Gorkil spoke “It is concerning you value your citizens so lowly” Korgahk then raised the axe above his head and so did the rest of the Warband “Raise! FLAT!” Korgahk yelled as he brought down the axe upon the neck of the elf infront of him, the rest of the Warband followed suite going to decapitate the elves before them, soon blood and dead bodies covered the bridge before the gate. An Olog picked one remaining elf and broke them in half over their knee yelling “WAAAGH!” Korgahk looked up towards the guard who stood watch as he saw his people get massacred, he raised his axe and pointed towards him before leaving the carnage they had unleashed.
  7. The Visionary Ooc: Time.. Time had always been a curious thought in Mèlawen’s mind. Since elves often didn't worry about time, they lived far too long to care. When.. .When had she stopped caring as the days passed by, already fifty four. Two children and a net of safety. How long until the net was cut? [!] Mèlawen sauntered around, with her mind full of worry, for her sister with child, for her son’s and daughter and the nation. Carefully she slowed to a near stop, gazing out at the window as a small voice whispered out into her ears.. The ‘ame lady turned around frightened at the sudden noise as she lifted her hand wildly gazing about the room Nothing was there Tic.. tic.. Tic.. tic.. The noise of an old grandfather clock chimed into her mind. Pleasant almost reminiscing as the smell of vanilla filled the air and continued to drift around the large Taliame’onn manor. “Aher’akel ome’ii, asimulum arche hae maehr synalli a’o taeleh” The voice echoed in the halls. Leaving a dead silence almost as soon as the last word had left the ominous voice’s tone. Mèlawen looked to be in pure shock. Standing straight as her emerald gaze widened. “Haelun?..” she paused, shaking her head as almost instantly her eyes turned a bright golden hue, light outlining her form and igniting small embarks of power from her frame. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ [!] The night was too quiet, Mèlawen’s feet landed bare in the grass, in the middle of an unfamiliar forest, surrounding her small stones with inscribed words. Every step the mali’ame took closer to the stones, the harder the words became to decipher. The wind blew by, a gentle breeze.. However, the grass didn't move and the trees didn't ache as the wind brushed their leaves. A single flower, drifted into the wind as almost on command the flower tucked itself into Mèlawen’s hair, a bright white flower with pink imprints to the petals. “Aspects?” she asked while her voice appeared to grow stronger in tone “Aspects?” she called out once more. Her calls were met with silence, simply the night sky and the landscape to comfort the strange experience she’d been jostled into “Fear not ome’ii of flowers.” The voice sounded different, softer, a more melodic tone even “She shall be strong, she shall grow what you have started. She is the future.” Mèlawen frowned, deeply confused however seeming to be unable to speak, it didn't feel right.. It simply didn't work anymore as if her voice had been removed completely. “Chaos will settle in the storm. Light will carve a path in the cobbled streets. Everything will be gone. .Gone.. Gone.. Gone. Time will move along. The tree’s you remember will grow again. Stronger, and better.” The two voices began to speak as one as the final dreaded line hardened growing louder and louder until the voice’s tone was unbearable. “Time will not quake until you find it. Time will continue. It will not slow for your incompetence. Grow up Mèlawen” Mèlawen woke up. Staring up at the ceiling as she leaned over, peering at her husband Kosher, who was still asleep. The room was dim, nothing had changed, there wasn't a smell and the sound of frogs filled the bedroom. The ocean breeze along the widow's peak. Slowly, Melawen reached up pulling the flower from behind her ear.. It was still there in a white and pink beauty. “Clematis.” Ooc: For reference, here is the Clematis Flower
  8. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Sounds of Beasts Drown out my Thoughts We march onward, the clear sky marks it as a good day The clamor of bronze strikes our souls For they march, the beast's eyes upon us now ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The firelands, long known as a source of danger for those who dwell in the ashy valleys below. These lands, native to the various beastmen who roam across its rugged county know only freedom to do as they will, to live their natural way. In their blood is the instinct to congregate, to move forwards to fresher pastures. First, only a few trickled in, seemingly singular individuals looking for lairs, for sustenance. Slaves and gladiators were sent, removing such beasts Yet, not singular in number. These lone beasts weak and unarmored were but only the advanced scouts of a larger more devastating herd. Seeking to add to their territory. Already they had taken their number up to the GREAT RAM FORTRESS, her forges churning and smokestacks pouring, as the beasts labored to cast the metal they needed for their warmachine. Forging weapons and Panoplies for their elite. THE BRAVE BAND, GLORIOUS Heroes! Hoplites clad in second skins of polished bronze, and heavy shield, paid well, each a hero each an individual looking to prove his worth in salt strode forth to meet this foe gathering on the borders of great Krugmenistan. Their forces commanded by the Indomitable Rex, and lead in the field by the Bronze Goliath himself, Ulagula'Ugluk. These heroes, came upon a shipment of fresh metals and arms from the fortress, their forces met by a great threat. The beastmen poured from the plains and the hills, and their great Champions announced challenge. And with Challenge they were met! The battle raged, and the Heros, strength of Leyd in their arms, drove those beastmen from the borders, though not before they took their bronze and their arms with them into the depths of the Firelands. Dedicating their victories to the Pantheon, the Phalanx, mustered in their strength brought the captured of the Minotaurs before the great Qarkah. Reeling in their weakness, Qarkah gave these beasts a new purpose. To redeem their weakness by culling that of others. And locked them away in the depths of Qarkah's Labyrinth. To guard the treasures it holds. The hero's bathing in the Adulation of the GREAT Krugmensitan, and SILVERED Sulianpoli knew, that the Herd will come once more. They are on the Moove... And now that the Labyrinth is complete, New Heros may prove themselves GREAT. And earn the vast treasures within. Undying is the KLEOS, this DIVINE GLORY we win! 'LO MAY THOSE WHO HAVE DONE THEIR DUTY RECEIVE THEIR JUST REWARD! And those who fell, find theirs. Rest now, Heroes, take your spoils, cast new bronze, nurse your wounds, mourn your dead, prepare thyselves. The Herd Cometh --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Come lads TELL US YOUR TALES OF BATTLE, SO YOUR IMMORTAL KLEOS MAY BE SUNG THROUGH ALL TIME! [[[Welcome to our new Storyline! One thematic and full of great struggles and great dramas sure to bring about the HERO inside you! Its hosted in Sulianpoli! The Silver Colony in great Krugmenistan! This eventline not only has large events and consequences and rewards for actions, but also static nodes, extra resources, trade, and a few CHALLENGES and DUNGEONS for even foreigners to TEST THEIR SALT! Come and test yourself in our Labyrinth! Come prove your STRENGTH in the TEMPLE OF IRON and receive great 'Boons' and many blessings!)) Tell your legends here!
  9. THE ERA OF OBSIDIAN A Promise from a Prince Amongst the Mali’ker, both near and far within the realm of Almaris and beyond, it is a people of strength and unity despite their splintering. We have become a fractured people with our paths taken to separate regions of the world, yet it has come for our ways to be united once more as we stand besides all of our people no matter the distance they are away. Nor’Asath shall remain as a home for all of the obsidian blood. With a great change within the halls of Nor’Asath, it leads us into great ambitions. While the fears of standing together linger within the minds of the clans, it is the unification of the clans that has brought us together at our strongest in generations past. This is not a call to change your path but to move forwards as one into an era in which we may all thrive. It is a call to the ways of our Ancestors, our generations that have walked the lands high and low before us. Within this era shall be one of welcoming champions of the mali’ker into the light that Velulaei had cast upon our people. The promise of this Prince is to awaken our people to their potential, to prove ourselves worthy of the light once more. Within this era for Nor’Asath, new reformations are to be set within the city regarding the structures of the clans, government, and a new push for revitalization of the city functions. During the past, instability tore the Clans apart, leaving each to only feel a faux sense of importance. The presence and contribution of the clans are to increase in their functionality to prevent stagnation. For it is not just I who leads our people, we are far too diverse for that, but it is the best of us that come together for a better home for the people of obsidian. What makes the Ker what they are, is versatility, the clans are fundamentally diverse and should know full well this will be the strength to forge our future to prove ourselves worthy once more of the light. It is the light that shines within each of us we harness to display our individuality to bring our strength forwards once more, today, tomorrow, and the next we shall prove ourselves. SIGNED, Netseth Loa’chil Prince of Nor’asath
  10. The government of Nor’asath is composed of a higher and lower council that oversees various diplomatic, internal, cultural, and matters of law within the Principality. The High Council handles issues with the Principality, while the Lower Council is composed of the heads of clans and guilds. The Prince of Nor’asath The Prince is a role that holds the burdens of overseeing the government and leading the Ker as the primary ruler, having the highest power. Is the Prince a position not inherited by blood but elected through a worthy process. A Prince can only run within an election after being appointed to the Heial’tahu. The Clan Lords of the Heial’uell then elect the favored candidate to ascend the throne. Heial'tahu The High Council The Heial’tahu acts as a city's ruling body to rule over various elements with swift judgment or manage lower bodies with executive power. Heial’tahu are appointed by the authority of the Prince and the Halerir. Halerir- Second to the Prince and aids in advising the Prince in managing city affairs, be it financial or cultural. The Halerir typically takes on a leadership role among the High Council and generally is hand-picked by the Prince to handle internal affairs. The Halerir in practice acts as a representative of the Clan lords and the people of Nor’Asath remaining open to presenting their collective desires. Onyx Chief- Is the Military leader and head of the Silan’siol and primary city defender. The Oynx Chief holds the authority to make immediate decisions amidst times of crisis, appointing warriors to stand against all that threatens the city. Arbiter- Head of the Temple, and authority on all matters spiritually meant to lead and guide the efforts of the Ancestral temple and the guidance of Priest, Shamans, and Acolytes. Despite acting as a spiritual mediator to the Prince, the Arbiter's duty may go beyond their city walls to teach the Mali’ker as a whole. *New temple heads are elected independently by temple staff though the Prince has the right to decline their spiritual mediator. The position, needing to be filled, another candidate will be chosen. Once a candidate is rejected, they cannot be chosen again in the same election. High Iylanhir - In charge of the infrastructure of housing and taxation and manages the steward within the city. The Iylanhir can also appoint others to take on the responsibilities of the stewards. High Venure- Authority on city events, festivities, and tournaments. The high Venures duty is simply to enable activities within the city. High Terhir- Manages income and looks after the guilds, managing the interests and existence of the various guilds. High Puerir - Duty of the Diplomat manages external matters and desired relations between nations, trade, or military. It is a position worked alongside other diplomats of the Duel Principalities. Heial'uell The Council of Many The Council of Many is a council that is represented best by the dark elven people. The positions within the Heial'uell revolve around Clan Heads, Guild Leaders, and minor roles that the High Council oversees. These positions are of the more independent variables. Clan Lords- Leaders of significant families and bloodlines and heads with businesses' interests within the cities. For the recognized, more significant clans they will make up the central authority of the Council of Many. Craftmaster- Head of smithing guilds, typically running events based on blacksmithing lessons, perhaps providing for shops and craft rarer materials for the potential defense of the city or mercantile use. Merchant Guild Lead - Leads the various traveling merchants and handles trade matters between nations. The Merchant guild lead is in charge of the employment of various merchants and leading in growing interest within the various merchants and stocking stalls in cities. The High Maeher- Embodying the roots of Ker's history in following in the footsteps of Velulaei. The Maeher is to brave the lands and preserve and document knowledge. The high Maeher also has ownership of the library. Heial'tahu Halerir -(Vacant) Onyx Chief - Lavi Igne’Sae Arbiter - Ardreth Des’nox High Iylanhir - Veris Velulaei'onn High Venure- Marzoss Devione High Terhir-(Vacant) High Puerir-(Vacant) Heial'uell Clan Lords Ri’karth- Zirath R’ikarth Loa’Chil- Netseth Loa’chil Devione- Leilatha Devione Velulaei'onn- Veris Velulaei'onn (More openings available for more bloodlines) Guilds Craft-master (Vacant) Merchant guild lead (Vacant) The High Maeher (Vacant)
  11. A Legacy in Need of Fulfillment Remember our fallen and do better in their honor. As the tilruir’tir to the former okarir’tir, and current acting okarir’tir, I feel as though it would only do the position justice for me to continue as the official okarir’tir, head of the haelun’orian militia. I’ve worked closely with the Okarir’tir for many years, and I am one of the few who can fInish the jobs he had the unfortunate fate of never completing. A list of my accomplishments thus far: The installation of new ranks The creation of a proper, working merit system Encouraged more active recruitment Weekly training and biweekly formations ((OOC: PVP events and Skirms)) Internal organization I have only been with elSillumiran a short time, this I am aware of. Although, it was in Sixty-One’s dying wishes that I take care of the SIllumir, and I intend to do so. Without me, elSillumiran would not only lack proper organization, but also the proper skills needed to fight. I want to honor the former head, and also create a military that Haelun’or can rely on to protect its citizens. I wish to bring about a home for those who choose to serve. It is our duty as Sillumir to ensure that Haelun’or does not fall to petty banditry, internal conflict, and raiding. Immediate Plans for Sillumir: Fighting for proper payment/Compensation for Sillumir in conjunction with okarir’akaln Promote Steady recruitment, as there will now be a quota for the number of new recruits each elven month Citizen combat lessons, free of charge. New and improved armour. Long Term Plans for Sillumir: The creation of a navy Improve our National Relations with other militaries and smaller mercenary groups in conjunction with okarir’san Establishing more leadership within the ranks in order to properly divert power and workload Thank you, for your time and consideration. I wish a bright future for Haelun’or, where we do not live in fear for what the coming times will bring. Fear, it tears us apart- but our sense of community, that will never waver. Maehr’sae Hiylun’eyha.
  12. Casting for the Play of “Oh, Mirror-” Directed and presented by Irelia Ni’leya, and Iphys Catullus Valwynn As the auditions draw to a close, with both Irelia Ni’leya and Iphys Catullus Valwynn satisfied with the contenders- missives would be sent out to those who managed to land a role, while also being hung outside the tavern for all to see! “Have it be heard that those listed below are to be casted in ‘Oh, Mirror-’ Estelle (Female protagonist)- Ayliana Vawynn (OOC: KiwiiFruiit) Mirror (Main antagonist)- Irelia Ni’leya (OOC: XoxoMinnieXoxo) Alvar (Father/Warrior)- Stelios Hyptos (OOC: RyuTheCoolest) Nylian(Male love interest)- Aerendyl Lor’demar (OOC: Kenzo74_) Claudia (Best friend/ Woman cheater)- Usamea an’asul (OOC: LariheiMinaj) Mort Treasure hunter 1- Leithedit An’asul (OOC: Crevel) Tarron Treasure hunter 2- Elarhil Sullas (OOC: Rioling) Narrator- Iphys Catullus Valwynn (OOC: TwistChunky) ( OOC: Congratulations to all who landed a role! Everyone did such a great job) ( OOC: I would like to thank everyone who came out today, whether it was to participate or to simply just watch! I look forward to seeing all of you at the final production! Sunday February 6th at 3pm EST/8pm GMT)
  13. A missive is spread throughout Almaris, fine parchment rolled and wrapped with a black ribbon tied and closed by two seals - a purple one carrying the coat of arms of Nor’Asath and a golden one carrying the crest of the R’ikarth Clan. “To all Mali’ker, and all Mali of Almaris From Prince Zirath Talhoffer R’Ikarth The Birth of our New Roots Karin’ayla, kae lliran. For decades, our Dark Elven people have been scattered across the land, with few elven homelands to refer to, subjugated under the rule of non-Elven descendants. Lamentably few have tried to restore our unity, and even less have endeavored to keep it. Others, driven by pride, have seen to our people’s undoing. With the establishment of the Principality of Nor’Asath, we have at last seen progress in this mission; not in centuries have so many of Velulaei’s sons and daughters come together in unity. Descendants of Renelia, Vira’ker, the Onyx Sanctum and even the Warhawkes now walk our halls. It is the best, last hope for the Mali’ker people to forge their rightful place among the other lineages of Malin. It is thus that we call for Dark Elves of all walks of life, all strains of thought, all forms of worship, and from all corners of Almaris to come to Nor’Asath - that the Dark Elven people might at last come home. It is further that we note that in many ways, the state of all Elves has recently mirrored the historical fragmentation of our Dark Elven people. It is thus that we also call for all Elves of Almaris to journey to the Dual Principalities of Fenn and Nor’Asath, there to mingle amidst the largest collection of Elves since the early days of Almaris. It is our hope that, in time, we shall find unity among Mali’ker, Mali’fenn, Mali’aheral, and Mali’ame - for while we have greatly changed since the days of Malin, we are still his children, and it would still be his desire that we reach accord. I, Prince Zirath Talhoffer R’Ikarth, write on behalf of my kin and invite you, the remaining Dark Elven people, to join our efforts. I ask to bring your stories, your cultures, your knowledge and your dreams here to let our newly born community thrive and grow. It is long past time that Velulaei’s people were restored. As of now, we have never been closer. It is my sincere hope that we shall all, at last, be together. Let us make our ancestors proud, and nurture a bright future for the Mali’ker people." Signed, Zirath Talhoffer R’Ikarth Prince of Nor’Asath, Prince of the Dark Elves
  14. (Part 1 of a couple part mythic epic about truly ancient times) Na Yallir Na Prenu Talar'Asul -------------------- The scene is set, A silver moon rides the sky, straddling a sublime city of purest marble and finest construction. The beautiful Mali'aheral, with their poets-a-canter, and maiden song singing, living their lives of plenty. Blessed are they, who dance amongst her white columns, sweet smells rise, and great friendships struck. In this scene, a symposium of comrades. The brothers few, who share with each other boasts and beratements, laughter, and love, gifts offered freely to one another. Together they strike out and make the night their own. Gathered they did, as the blessings flowed freely as gifts of their splendid lives. Salt and Fish from the sea, Fruits and Nuts from the hills, Sweet, sparkling Wine from the Vine. The Symposiasts gathered together for great intent, as these were the times where tongue is tempered in the ring of philosophy and debate. "What is the way to live?" The bronze-haired 'Aheral asked, his hand grasping only the juiciest grapes. "To be free of worry, far from battle, and the prater of lessers, where you have chance to cultivate" An 'aheral responds, his feet hiked as he drinks watered wine from the amphorae Another interjects, drizzling his comrade and himself with oil "That may be part of it, but truly one lives best when he is challenged" His wrestling partner returns as they lock together in a grapple. "I must not be living to the fullest then!" she exclaims before pinning her opponent. As the others drank their water and wine, the young 'Aheral, Son of a beautiful mother, bronzed by the blessed rays of the sun, his body molded by honor-heft in The Iron Temple, and mind enforced by the great teachings of venerated Mali'aheral scholars drank from his own cup of sparkling wine; then spoke again. "Why aren't you, then?" Crossing his legs as the Symposiasts gathered there in the sauna listened on with furrowed brows. "You all gather here almost every night, we eat from our fine plates, we sup from silver chalices and bronzed mugs. We heft big weight, and we clash many lyres, and orate many poems. Our slaves toil for all our needs, and we simply take as we please, bounty from the sea and isle. You say to be challenged is good, but at the same time wish to be free from harm? What is challenge with no risk? With no reward? Mere homework!" Enraged, the 'aheral symposiasts assaulted him with insult after insult, each one her curtailed, like knives off a shield. They all had the same core. "Well then mister bronze elf, why don't you go do something challenging then?" "Well lets go then" He laughed, the symposiasts, drunk on pure wine, did not think they would need to be proving the weight of their words, but they still accepted the challenge anyway, as these sorts of friends do. But when the morning rose, splaying itself out beyond that silver horizon and the waves were perfect to cast away, only him greeted that dawn, his shield of bronze polished, and his cuirass lined with silver laurels. He went about the silver city, and every chance he could, he reminded his friends about their weak word, and wimpish sensibility. Enraged again, the insults flew, but finally, the comrades relented, knowing that he was right. There is a saying in the islands of the Mali'aheral "I hate the symposiast with a good memory" Each of these Mali'aheral were obviously members of esteemed bloodlines of Haelun'or, and as such, benefited from the privileges of that. Obtaining quite easily what they wished, and gathered what was necessary. From polished shields, and arms so beautiful they would make a dwarf cry, even the food for the journey was a thing that not only nourished body, but soul as well. Oh, to be provided for my the fruits of your bounty, the labor of no labor, and to wear it proud, as we are blessed men. Each of them, clad in their heavy bronze with tied and filigreed with silver, and the blues of their crested helms. Each one a champion of mind and body, pure blood and pure spirit. The girls smiled finally having the saunas to themselves again, and then, the comrades set out on a ship of painted sails away from their mother island, yet it was good. One of the key features that distinguishes an 'Aheral sailor from lessers is their patience and ability in long journey Together, through these vast and silvery seas, the comrades knew many great songs and tale, they spoke legends of stars and light, but the lights ahead a manner of elf weeks into the voyage spoke more to them in that moment ((Heres the first post of an 'Aheral Mythic Epic of a great Warrior-Poet and one-day Hero-King! If you wanna read more check out my other posts on The Hyptos, a bloodline of heroes.))
  15. The Circle of Crows Followers of the Divine Unknown Founded on the 23rd of Malin’s Welcome, Year 1844 of the Second Age _______________________________________ To the denizens of Almaris, We are the Circle of Crows. We are those who have lurked in the shadows for countless years, moving between the lands, doing our duties alone and without fail. With the troublesome creation of the Voidal Hollow and other untold imbalances that threaten our realm, we as a Circle have come to an agreement. Many of our members have thought it best to make ourselves known in the realm, to those who follow the same path, and to those who wish to join us in our endeavors. We are here to serve a new purpose in this world, to stay present in the development of things that might affect the balance, and to actively protect that balance no matter the cost. In short, we may pursue things differently from that of the current Circles. Henceforth, we have found a home in the lands of the Elvendom, previously known as Elvenesse. We urge that those who wish to join our ranks, simply reach out by letter or in person. Signed,
  16. In what was but a blink of an eye, they looked upon the sky. Ruin was all anyone could describe such a night. Prince Vival, the young heir of clan Velulaei’onn, stood valiantly upon the frontlines of the evacuation of Elvenese many of elven kind having looked to the skies toward their doom. The Young Ker found himself, brought to an abrupt end by a single slash of a hellish construct. In an attempt to fight for his life, the Prince found himself in the company of Elven lords. His life ended in the company of Sevrel Valindar, who took the honor of delivering the young Lord to his beloved home of the Stygian Hollow. Vival lived as the reclusive young son of the Velulaei’onn line of Renelia born to the first lord of the lands Aroen; Vival was a solitary boy having shared blood and practice within the clan Ravexi, having been raised upon the ideals of the Ironfist of the Ker. His time would have proven a brief one for the young reclusive scholarly warrior as the end brought only exodus. Having been separated by his kin, Vival found himself alone. As was true for many Ker at the time, survival turned into a priority, many integrating into other communities and many more turning toward ill reputable criminal acts. Vival, as he grew up, remained within the criminal underworld, having taken part in piracy at a young age following a less than a prestigious career in thievery. Within time the young Ker, having been forced to live under an alias and disguise based upon his heritage, after an untimely end to his criminal career, Vival lived among scholars in Sutica. Vival spent much time learning about more peculiar elements of the world. Through his knowledge, he earned a grander perspective. As Vival hungered for more, his studies had found an end with the sudden loss of the academy; Vival moved from place to place, continuing his studies and moving from place to place until the destruction of Arcas where old passions reignited though were cut short. Having lived and helped found the city of Freeport, Vival would find himself in a moment of conflict. He had learned some of his family had yet lived in the Holy Orenian Empire. From there, Vivals path became one of walking among a pack, a growing horde of Ker tribes seeking a dream preached by his predecessor of a new Renelia. In hindsight, the goal was perhaps a fool's dream; what he wanted may not have been the best for his people, yet perhaps not one whose ends proved without merit. Vival was not meant to lead, yet upon the stagnation of his predecessor, he was the one left to find a home for his people. During a moment of desperation, Vival led his people toward various potential homes, his sight inevitably falling upon the mountainous ravines in Urguan after his dealings with the Grand King. Through what seemed to be a strenuous effort, the lands of Stygian Hollow formed. Despite the struggles, many found within the city, the Prince grew accustomed to a family, friends, and the trials that even a smaller city may provide. The Young Prince in his final moments fulfilled with his life. ”Aelia, Pardek, and my youngest Ahzekk and the rest of my kin do not weep for eternity simply be better than I.” “To those who remain in the Hollow, our new dream shall not end with me. Carry on for all of our sakes.” “However I may be remembered, I only hope ill be remembered as a llir to all of you; we will meet again among the Ancestors.” “Velulaei, watch over each of you as I now go to join her.”
  17. “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
  18. Prelude. [!] Far and across every realm - to all Descendant kind, the following message would be delivered. To some, it will be stamped with a self-devouring serpent. To others, a single, baleful eye wreathed with flame. To some still, an assembly of seven stars above an Elven crown. The meaning, regardless is the same. I have walked into the den of the Titan, expecting death, and instead am given this charge. This warning I extend to Almaris and all its peoples. “Mark this hour’s passing. Amathea’s doom is certain. I will come upon it as a great and terrible malice of the like that this world has only just forgotten. It will begin at the city’s heart, which will blacken and burn. A poison will flow through the woodland realm’s veins, and when it has been made grey, I will reap all that I have sown and feast upon its lifeforce. Black metal will fall from the sky and mar every monument to elvenkind, every altar to your gods, and every grove in which you celebrate life. I will do this without pause. And when I have finished my work I will look to the East.” For Azdromoth is his name Calamity, his domain Amaethea is next. @Bhased @Panashea @Iverach @_pr0fit @Xarkly @Terry @[email protected] @BenevolentManacles @WestCarolina @Formenost @Malaise @Valannor @Abeam @[email protected] @Suicidium
  19. elnarnsae’ame ilmyumier (Tattoos of the Wild Faith) As mali, we are blessed with the ability to experience centuries of history first hand, rather than be party to the realm of dusty tomes. And as ancient beings, the history we experience forms into stories which, either literally or metaphorically, mark and scar us. I believe that we should honor the skin, as mali. Some, like the blessed elves, believe that we should be maintained in the image of purity. I believe to honor the skin is to turn the mali form itself into art. Tell the story of your life's history, belief, and duty through the expression of shape and color in the art of Elven ilmyumier. Here I detail my process, tools, and the designs I have created for my own expression of my faith for the benefit of our people, the mali who employ the ilmyumier and follow our Wild Faith and Aspects. iller'ilmyumier (Application of Tattoos) To bestow, and have bestowed ilmyumier is a sacred process, one that should be sought to be carried out by a trusted and trained individual. It is for this reason that I have a certain disposition towards the notion of a tattoo parlor, where markings of the skin are applied as a cold transaction of business. One giving ilmyumier should do so in exchange for nothing. If you find an exchange is necessary, I believe a friendly and thankful gift is appropriate; typically equal to the amount of supplies spent on the ilmyumier you received. As any sacred practice, the application of ilmyumier should be treated as a ritual. To sit through the process, especially for large pieces, is a test of endurance and respect should be given in equal parts to the artist and recipient as they undergo a process which I believe in itself to be holy. Customarily, a prayer is said by the artist to Sha'maidan, calling upon Her strength and endurance as the recipient readies to bear the burden of pain. In turn, the mali getting tattooed will speak a prayer to Kwakwani to guide their artistic hand. As such, it is typically appropriate for an ilmyumier artist to have a token in the image of both Demidogs, or tools carved to depict them among the artist mali's equipment. fer'ilmyumier (Tools of the Trade) An example of fer'ilmyumier and the accompanied rod. (center) To use this tool, the needling ends of it are dipped generously within the ink, while the back of the instrument is repeatedly, rapidly, gently tapped with the rod as it makes quick impressions and inks the flesh. The process of using this tool is bloody, but effective. These tools are commonly hewn in the images of Kwakwani (left) and Sha'Maidan (right). Several of these tools, each with differently-sized needling heads, are often found in a kit. Many variations of these tools include a simple wooden rod with the honed needling points sticking from it at a right angle. These typically have little embellishment, and are used in training until an ilmyumier artist comes into their own. The art of ilmyumier uses an array of different tools and supplies required for the application, each with a unique use and function. These tools may alter the level of detail at which you work, or make the process itself pass quicker. All methods, unfortunately, carry the sacred pain of application, but there are certain methods that assuage some of that burden at the request of the recipient, or the compassion of the artist. A normal set of tools includes a single thin needle, common amongst all tattoo artist. In my own practice, this is used for thin details and outlines, as well as filling in sharp corners within my designs. However, the majority of my work is with a tool I call the fer'ilmyumier. Wooden rods with an angled and pointed handle, at the end of which is a series of sharp points. This piece is often made of honed flint, or stone. Making this out of wood leads to wear, and a flimsy, broken tool from the moisture of ink. As one might expect, the tool used by every artist of tattoos is ink, whose stains come from any number of sources. For the most common, black ink, one can typically make these out of ash or charcoal depending on the darkness they like. More colorful inks I source from nature, either from berries with bright, pigmented juices and flesh, or from the petals of flowers. An interesting, subtle art to using ink made from the pigments of petals is the implementation of Tiva into one's craft; making inks from particular flowers to convey a message known typically only to the artist and recipient. As with anything, caution is recommended when using berries or flowers to mark the flesh. Nature is vicious, angry, and you may end up marking your skin in poison. Finally, the knife. This is rarely used in practice safe for particular applications of ink, and scarification. Scarification is an honorable variation of ilmyumier, each story it represents carries with it the spirit of endurance. Nearly every design to be featured can be done with scars instead of inks, and I encourage those willing, especially those of the Ichor Way, to immortalize their patrons in pain. Ilmyumyer Designs of the Wild Faith While ilmyumier can denote standing, seed, and clan, my greatly favorited way of using it is through the expression of my faith in representing not only the Aspects, but the Demigods of the Wild Faith. These are designs I have created honoring them, and I encourage those reading to find inspiration in my designs and the motifs used for each one. Each design represented is easily done with scars, as well, for those desiring. Valmir'ilmyumier Rites Most anyone can apply ink to the flesh. But Elven ilmyumier is more than tattoos alone; they are a honed and sacred practice which carries weight, and fosters a connection between those that would create it, and the others that would receive it. To set one's self down this path is easy, and begins only with the desire to not only put markings on skin, but to create the designs yourself. Many of the old markings are lost, but new traditions can be forged, as they should be. Once the desire is cemented, the artist will have another valmir'ilmyumier mark their dominant hand in the markings of the craft while they both recite a joint prayer, to their choice of the Mother and Father, or to Kwakwani and Sha'Maidan. After the rite of application is complete, the newly arisen valmir'ilmyumier allows their markings to heal before they begin constructing their sacred kit, hand carving fer'ilmyumier in the image of their preference, typically of the Mani they venerate. The mark of a valmir'ilmyumier is done on the dominant, working hand, in the preferred/favorite color of the artist. Typically only one color is done, but as the mali'ame are a colorful people, several vibrant pigments are hardly out of the question. Stylistically, the mark can change, but the staining of fingertips and fading lines along the knuckled to the wrist remain mainstays of the mark. Above depicts the author's own mark, featured on his left working hand. - Gilliaen Alhanavir [!] All depictions of tattoos, and tools are drawn by me.
  20. [!] as the wind blew on Stygian Hollow and Thunders roared in the rainy sky, a golden figure glanced over the dark elven city with eyes full of bitterness and rage, burning the trees with its fiery gaze. In the air some energy and tension could be felt building up as the rain consumed the stone under its feet. [!] "may the ones yond consum'd pow'r decayeth and roteth with these poisonous roots yond hath grown with those folk!" ???, ???pm EST, Stygian Hollow, Urguan LOTC event note: the animation is not the best and the voices are even worse but i did my best :) enjoy
  21. MISSING PERSON Darina Sarosa Last seen in Elysium. If found, please take her back SAFELY to the rangers of Elysium 150+ MINA BOUNTY TO BRING HER BACK ALIVE! Description: 4'11", wood elf, dark skin, green eyes, light brown hair in braids usually, sometimes dirty PORTRAIT:
  22. Despite the tense expressions of the four present, the Hinterlands hummed with their usual naturesong. The Warden keep rose over the treetops like a great obelisk, the eyes of those within peering out into the emerald ocean of canopy with regret held in their eyes. “You’re certain of this?” The ashen elf murmurs. The snowy locks over his brow dance in the firelight of the keep as he looks between his three companions. The crown above his head mirrors the watchful gaze of the Hound, High Prince Evar’tir. The bearded elder nods. Sevrel Valin’dar gave a sigh in disappointment, pity even - not for his comrades, but for the foolishness of the one that they spoke. The dark elven was the Bulwark of Elvenesse, yet it was still a distressing shock to know that his foes had come from within. “It seems that they have the support of the entire Puerokar Seed, and allegedly… the Tahorran kin.” Amaesil’s auburn head turns to Sevrel. The Young Fox was as cunning as his namesake, and his eyes reflected the confirmation of his suspicions. The Exarch had his hunches, yet it was still disconcerting to hear the truth unfold before him. “Any others?” he asks with his typical confident tone, but there was certainly a gnawing in his gut that he could not ignore. The lone silver-gold headed Aerendyl draws in a sharp breath as Sevrel responds. “An… undisclosed number of allied individuals.” The TimberWolf’s form shook with a nauseating concoction of fury and betrayal. He recalled the days when his House was supporting the Tahorran seed financially, and those adventures that he had with them upon the wild waters of the world. “Those craven snakes... ” he laments, his expression yielding a rare and genuine look of despair. “This nation is my family, my kin, brothers and sisters… my home.” Sevrel speaks up among the brief silence as the four came to terms with the information. “Valin’dar with with you all, for the titles and roles we have are nothing- it is for this family that I will oppose this scheme.” “You have my sword.” Amaesil resounds, the Young Fox leading a quiet rally between the four. “And my glaive.” Aerendyl echoes, turning his gaze too towards the High Prince and leaning upon his wolven-headed staff grimly. The cogs were in motion. The four Lords returned home. They returned to their beds, their family, their wives, and prayed for forgiveness for what must be done. Nobody expected the seats to be lined with so many interested folk... Ithalanen, kin of the Usurper, the Savoyard men, the Ichorians... "Rylleah, I have no doubt that you did not know what Tahlia had done without your permission. And for this, your life will be spared. The docks will be eliminated, and Tahlia is eternally banished." "500 mina for her alive, half for her head." the High Prince chimed in, just as the Puerokar seed was summoned to the center of the room. "Pancho Puerokar, you and your seed have been accused of high treason against the crown. Care to explain yourself?" he echoes throughout the throne room... just as a familiar face shows up from behind the Puerokar lineup. Sevrel marched in with a legion of Orenian lineman. He sternly looked up to the High Prince and pointed his longsword accusingly up to the dark elven Prince. "My Lords, it has come to my attention that there is a situation." The Dark Elf steps forward to the front and looks Evar'tir right in the eyes. "This man has lied to his people, betrayed our honour, and has no right to rule! Me and my lliran are here to deal with this tyrant, once and for all. My people are loyal to the cause, and I shall no long stand for this. You shall be put down!” He shouts, still glaring at the elves atop the platform. Then, he turns around to Pancho Puerokar, and points his blade towards the wood elf. “ARREST THESE TRAITOROUS DOGS!” Like the heartbeat of a great titan, the footfalls of the Wardens marched down the great spiral of the citadel down into the heart of the cavern. There, they halted in a methodical line before the manor of Puerokar. The distant memories of this seed pleading for help from a depraved member beating his son rang in their mines like a distant foghorn. Things could have been so much different… but the fires flew from the line of elves regardless, and with it their disgust and fury at the Puerokar manipulation. No more abuse, no more false cries for help, only the baptism of cleansing embers and righteous retribution. It was a shame. A damn shame, even. Stewards were of this seed, prospective Wardens of Hinterlands, even a capable commander… All to waste. As much as Amaesil, Aerendyl, Sevrel, and Evar’tir hated to be reminded of it, it wasn’t just Mankind who may fall to the desire for power. They looked on not with smiles, nor a glimmer of joy in their eyes, but with regret. This was no joyous celebration, but a memorial for a consuming rot that could have devoured their gladed home with a ravenous hunger. With the fires dying down, and the Green Priesthood already setting to work returning this portion of city to nature, the four Lords turned their eyes to the north shore. They marched to the docks.
  23. ANDO ALUR'S FIRST JOUST [!] two people practicing jousting outside of Ando Alur Welcome one welcome all! Ando Alur Warmly invites you to visit our grand city for our first Joust! His Serene Highness and his event planners, have decided to host several events for his people and all of Almaris! Our city resides in Eastfleet, take the road to Haelun'or and there you will spot a city on a hill, the marbled walls of Ando Alur. Sunday, June 27th. 8:30 pm est Jousting For our first event! We will be hosting a jousting tournament, anyone is more than welcomed to join! Just find a member running the festivities and let them know you would like to sign up. Prize will be announced at the event. Brawl Show off your hand to hand combat skills during this event, impress the prince himself with your skill! Prize, a hundred mina! Novel Competition Here in Ando Alur, we believe knowledge is just as powerful as brute strength! show off your literary skills by entering the book writing contest. Crown Forging Blacksmiths of Ando Alur and Almaris, now is your chance to prove your worth and skill! forge a grand crown for the competition, and the triumphant crown will be worn by his Serene Highness himself! Special Invitations Denziens of Ando Alur. The Silver State Of Haelun'or and the Silver Council. people of different nations are more than welcomed to join! PENNED, Seat of Ceremony, Event Coordinator, 𝐼𝓁𝓎𝒶𝓃𝒶
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