Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'haelunor'.

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Categories

  • Whitelist Applications
    • Accepted
    • Denied

Categories

  • Groups
    • Nations
    • Settlements
    • Lairs
    • Defunct Groups
  • World
    • Races
    • Creatures
    • Plants
    • Metallurgy
    • Inventions
    • Alchemy
  • Mechanics
  • History
    • Realms
  • Magic
    • Voidal
    • Deity
    • Dark
    • Other
    • Discoveries
  • Deities
    • Aenguls
    • Daemons
    • Homes
    • Other
  • Utility
    • Index
    • Templates

Forums

  • Information
    • Announcements
    • Guidelines & Policies
    • Lore
    • Guides
  • Aevos
    • Human Realms & Culture
    • Elven Realms & Culture
    • Dwarven Realms & Culture
    • Orcish Realms & Culture
    • Other Realms
    • Miscellany
  • Off Topic
    • Personal
    • Media
    • Debate
    • Forum Roleplay
    • Looking for Group
    • Miscellany
  • Forms
    • Applications
    • Appeals
    • Reports
    • Staff Services
    • Technical Support
    • Feedback

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


Discord


Minecraft Username


Skype


Website


Location


Interests


Location


Character Name


Character Race

  1. ROTTING ROOTS 4th of Amber’s Cold 168 SA “Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya” pertains to the values that serve as the basis of our culture, first proclaimed by our blessed Larihei when faced with the tyranny of stagnancy, imposed by those who would see the flames of our progress snuffed permanently. Yet through such oppression we prevailed, and the state of Haelun’or was formed from a unified peoples that have persisted for centuries under the guise of Larihei’s legacy. Alas, progress without unrelenting dedication wilts to inactivity and the foundations upon which our nation is founded threatens to crumble to ash. Maheralan Sohaeran’ehya have passed, neglecting their mantle and the responsibilities that are intrinsically tied to their position - with increasingly few proving their worth, in recent decades. Prior to my departure, imposed upon me by dwindling health, I served our motherland as Okarir’mali - which at such a time possessed a variation of responsibilities, including the maintenance of the tavern, clinic, and our most esteemed eternal library. My purpose was defined and I never once faltered in my dedication to elcihi'thilln nor her citizens, as myself and the council of Luthrien Maery’onn sought to combat the stagnancy that had festered within our city. The wind travels and I find myself upon Haelun’orian soil once more, compelled to retrieve my quill in an effort to salvage our dwindling state. Sohaer Theveus Sythaerin, I challenge you for the position of Sohaer - with the intention to vanquish the infection you have allowed to take root in our nation. kaean'leh thilln chul'okarae Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya Signed, Eistalyn Othelu’Maehr
  2. In a quaint alterations boutique tucked away on a cobblestone street, the atmosphere hums with the gentle sound of needle meeting fabric. The air is thick with the scent of aged wood and the faint aroma of freshly brewed tea, wafting from a small pot simmering in the corner. At the heart of the shop, bathed in the warm glow of flickering candlelight, sits the master tailor. With weathered hands and keen eyes, he meticulously stitches together a masterpiece, his needle dancing gracefully through the fabric like a conductor directing an orchestra. The tailor's workbench is a testament to his craft, strewn with spools of thread in a myriad of colours, golden thimbles, and delicate pins arranged in precise patterns. Behind him, shelves sag under the weight of bolts of luxurious fabrics—velvets, silks, and brocades—all waiting to be transformed into garments fit for nobility. As the daylight fades, casting long shadows across the room, the tailor's concentration remains unbroken. Each stitch is a labour of love, a testament to centuries of tradition and skill passed down through generations. With every tug of the thread, he breathes life into his creation, weaving together threads of history and artistry to fashion a garment worthy of the ages. Outside, the world carries on with its hustle and bustle, but within the boutique's walls, time seems to stand still. Here, in this sanctuary of craftsmanship, the art of hand-sewing reigns supreme, preserving the beauty and elegance of a bygone era for generations yet to come. Miss Naya B. is hereby commended for her diligent upholding of duty and stalwart heart in the face of adversity and personal crisis. As a continued protector of Kaethul, she is awarded a small token of appreciation. - A handcrafted Mastercraft (Outfit - Skin) [Bought from Teeylin] Signed, Yera Silveira, Overlord of Kaethul, Master of the Hidden Tower, Magister of Hohkmat
  3. Kaethul #2: Peace and Coin The Commerce City State of Kaethul accepts the minas provided by Haelun'or as reparations for the unfortunate events that occurred an Elven week ago where an individual was struck with uncontrollable flashbacks and attacked both a citizen of Kaethul and a foreign member of Amathine (who have negotiated their own reparations with Haelun'or on behalf of their citizen). I, Yera Silveira, Overlord of the Commerce City of Kaethul hereby pledge one hundred Minas to the affected Lady Aveline within my care who received injury from this event, and four hundred Minas to be divided amongst the key contributors of Kaethul, in addition to half the taxes of our nation. (Percentage of tax pool taken depends on weekly contribution/influence)
  4. ⋆❆ Secret Sohaer ❆⋆ It has been over fifty years since Krugsmas has come. In only a few years it’ll arrive once more. To celebrate this rare occasion, an event is in order! Haelun’or will have itself a secret gift exchange. Want to participate? See below! Please note that only current citizens of the city may join the festivity. ⋆❆ Participant information ❆⋆ To participate, fill out the information at the bottom of this page. After it is filled, beneath the tree behind the tavern, pick a chest and name it yours. You may give up to three items. [These gifts must be RP/ST signed items. They cannot be regular mundane gear/food/etc.] ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sorting will commence in two elven days. [Tuesday, December 5th at 3pm EST.] Names will be sent out about who you are getting shortly afterwards. After you receive your person, you may begin! Do not under any circumstance contact your secret sohaer. If you have any questions, please relay them to the event coordinator, Soris [WizardWhisper]. Form link: https://forms.gle/A8ozuzQXanR4gnzp7
  5. The Tale of the Hare and the Larva 1951 FA / 155 SA When the Hare had made certain the Larva understood the duties, he thought himself satisfied that the rest could finally be found. The Larva pushed and pushed, pouring fuel into the beckoning fire to guide all of the scholars but the Hare had not anticipated that the Larva within a much shorter time, would have spent the rest of his fuel for the flames. So in the darkness, the Larva claimed Celestia Astramaris to be Maheral. The Hare watched for two years, Celestia was nowhere to be seen. So he spoke to the other wise animals; The First Mole, Serpent, Lynx and the Swan all agreed with the Hare. The light must return and those who have stumbled in the Larva’s darkness, return to the path. The Lynx were busy in their project of rediscovering the lost art of arcane. The Mole, Serpent, and Swan too had new duties far from the people they once guided and so the Hare requested to take up the heavy duties once more after 13 years of rest. And so it is with the will of elMalauriran that Celestia Astramaris never was Maheral and thus is no Malaurir. It is also the will of elMalauriran that Seth Calith is Maheral. MAEHR’SAE HIYLUN’EHYA -Maheral Seth Calith the Hare -Malaurir Lelien Lazul the Swan -Malaurir Silvos Sythaerin the Serpent -Malaurir Iatrilemar Elervathar the Lynx -Malaurir Andria Fi’tarlareh the First Mole
  6. The Murder of a mage On what seemed like a rather ordinary night, the elven woman went about her errands in the enchanting realms of Aevos. She was an esteemed guest of the Hohkmati Enclave, a formidable mage, and her fatigue was clearly evident. An air of mystery enveloped her, as if some enigmatic burden weighed on her, beyond mortal understanding. Yet, her determination remained unwavering. Physical tasks appeared to drain her, often compelling her to harness her magical prowess to ease the strain on her body. Her magical abilities granted her respite from the demanding chores. On this particular occasion, she had returned to her homeland, the lands of Haelun’or, to engage in a discussion with the new Maheral, who had taken over following the resignation of the Miravaris. However, the streets of Haelun’or remained eerily vacant, the city's white marble façade contrasting with its lack of inhabitants. The high elves were deeply immersed in their studies and work. The elven woman sought out a skilled seamstress, an old friend, to ask for a favor. She was aware of a grand jubilee hosted by the Petran Queen, Renilde I, an acquaintance she had grown quite fond of, despite being human. The seamstress crafted a magnificent gown for her — a pitch-black dress that seemed to absorb all the light around it. Golden embellishments adorned its seams, and a matching golden belt cinched her waist. The dress was modest, covering her from neck to toe, leaving no trace of exposed skin; even her hands were concealed. The time came for her journey to the Commonwealth, initially by horseback. Yet, the physical demands proved overwhelming for the mage. With humility and respect, she decided to open a portal to simplify her passage to the realm of the Petran ruler. With a snap of her fingers, a shimmering white disc formed, and she gracefully walked through it, emerging near the entrance to the jubilee. The jubilee was enjoyable, though it didn't quite meet the standards of this high elven aristocrat, who could be rather snobbish. She greeted friends, savored a slice of cake, engaged in conversations, and even treated the children at the jubilee to a magical spectacle. As all good things do, this too came to an end, prompting her to make her departure for some much-needed rest. However, her exit didn't unfold as smoothly as expected. The exit was congested, with humans loitering and blocking her way. Her polite requests for them to move were met with hostility and disdain. Determined to avoid any violence, the adept mage resorted to her magical abilities. Ethereal white mists enveloped a troublesome lady, gently guiding her aside to create a path for the elf. Yet, it took only moments for violence to erupt. A human bishop, consumed by rage and seemingly beyond reason, seized the fragile elf by the throat and began to squeeze. Witnesses were convinced that something had taken hold of the bishop, for his actions were anything but holy. The elven mage, weakened by her connection to the Void, could only stand helplessly against the overpowering human. Eventually, the bishop's strength waned, for it was not typical for the elderly to resort to murder. He released the elf, who had already lost consciousness. Petran Court physicians would then rush to the scene to transport the elf to a clinic for examination. They discovered that the bishop had caused severe damage to the elf's trachea, and emergency surgery was imperative to restore her oxygen supply. The valiant medics, ever respectful, began preparing the frail elf for surgery in an attempt to save her life. Unfortunately, it was already too late. Her eyes grew dim, pupils dilated, and her body relaxed. The mission of the bishop had tragically succeeded. However, the elfess seemed at peace, her expression serene as if she had been smiling just before her life ebbed away. Perhaps if she had not been alone, she might have survived, but none had dared to confront the bishop, a formidable figure within the Canonist church.
  7. THE BRAZEN STATE "This is my wealth: My spear and my shield. With this I trample sweet wine from the vine. With this I am called Master of Serfs. Those who do not choose to have spear and sword, and fine shield of polished bronze to protect them, all cower at my knee and submit. Calling me master and great King" -Words of Anaxagoras, Hero king. Father of many cities These past few years, I have been taken to visit the lands of my old friends. The Noble True-Men, those who live far beyond the walls of the settled men, yet live Pure and Free lives, just as they had been created to do. To dwell below the open sky, and honor the world with the sacrifices they make. Truly a more noble Man has never formed since their inception in brigblaewas, that extreme north. It is because of them, that I have had the time and ability to introspect, to seek and commune with the nature of the blood, of purity, of honour, and nobility. Of brotherhood, and of kinship. All that the Scydri shared with one another, freely. I had witnessed the death and burial of their revered elder, king of Scydri, Abragan Thyrscys in a grand burial mound. Larger than any I had seen, golden treasure, A chariot, Twelve horses, dozens of sheep, and the greatest, whitest cow, I had ever seen, were sacrificed to creation and entombed with the Azukazi Khuzai and his wives. Mournful, were the people, as they sung and wailed and laughed, and drunk much of their fermented horse milk, partaking in the sacred scydrian herb. Soon, all declared their love for their king, the unifier of the steppe, and in the words of his son, the blonde charioteer, the words of adoration, for his greatest father, the doer of things. That only by being in his image, will the son ascend to take the place of the chieftain well. After this, to all, and all who shared, much was known was the love of their brother and uncle, chieftain, and father. Yet it was the night before he perished, and his spirit found undying freedom, that I had my finest meeting. What stuck with me greatly. -Pov you are Pamphilos in Scydria, with the elder Abragan, son and khuzai of the Azukazi Long was that day, many miles, over streams and through deep cut valleys upon that wide steppe. We had finished what we would later learn was his last ride. During the voyage he sung a throatsong, sharing with the sounds of the world, as a sign of his passing. Of how real one can truly be. We fired upon the old gryphon which had descended from the hills, seeking to plunder the herd of wild horses we passed, and seeing the elder and I, mounted upon our steeds, reared. Though i readied my spear for battle, she dared not approach upon seeing our garb, mounts and the beast flew back at the witness of the Scydrian's pointed hat. For they had done the battle many times. He laughed, and so did I. We made it. To the stone of Volgarr. The Cimmerean. So fine was this black stone pillar, rising high above the steppe, atop a hill which laid to it a backdrop of the distant forest on the edge of the horizon. Some other world than this of boundless sky and grass. Yet I saw deep into the soul of the carving, and I knew it was not built by the hands of Cimmereans. The once greatest rival of these pure men. A tribe just as noble. I saw him pour a bag of kumis and press down the sword he had brought for the occassion into the earth. Wetting it with the blood of the lamb we had taken from the camp. -The Khuzai sung songs of the ways of Hyperborean man. The memories of noble cimmeria, sung by who were once their enemies We sat there, by the fire. We ate the meat we shared with the sacrifice. He sung me the song of war, of his people and the struggle with the cimmereans of their past. About how the mammoth hunters stole their cattle, and the horsemen ran them down. About the slaying of the chieftains brother upon the sacred sky mountain, and the vengeance which drove the cimmereans to ruin, scattered to the forests. Through the firelight in the dim darkness of the coming night my eyes caught glimpse of the bronze of the blade, point down at the top of the hill. Still wet with blood. "Durz..." He said rebukingly. I turned to him, to see his gaze, lost in the flame. I asked what it is he was considering, after taking me on such a long trip to such a distant monument? The elder looked over, his stick he waved as he twirled the smoke which rose from the fire into many forms. I watched as the horses and gryphons, the wolves and the eagles, the lions and the stag make war. Yet Still I saw in the eye of the Scydrian, those pools of blue, a world that I could only see in the heights of any maidensong. "What is life... If you regret what you have done..?" He looked up to me, smiling, yet I saw the tear which had first fallen from his eye. We retired shortly to the smoketent he brought and the bundle of scydrian herb. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ -Pamphilos Hyptos arriving from the lands of Scydri, the chieftain's last gifts well received. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Now, I return to the lands where my people dwell, and to my own polis. The site of construction which had been betrayed and forgotten by the reddest skydaemons. It was here, when I turned the gifts of the chief off to the herdorc, an ugluk brudda, I had caught up at last with my dearest friend. The oldest lad of my band. He told to me, with eyes of fire, the state of things. As he gripped from the herd, the weakest of the ewes and lambs, which writhed, bleating in his grip, he spoke of the injustice, the tyranny faced by my lads, and all the urukhiim at the hands of the few and impure. Indeed. For it was not long after my meeting with my oldest lad, did I receive word, that my brother, twin-sun, Atemu-ta had raised a warband, as directed by the will of Purity itself. This force, to march upon the north, and rebuke the scourge that we have made war upon since they first made themselves known. Already was the shrine erected, already was the force armed, and the theurgy done. For this war had been blessed, authority bestowed from the Purest Source. After all, is there nothing more pure than purging the impure? To rid the land of the tainted and unclean? For this, I have given my devotion. So why is it that the kursed klan has raised such a fuss? If our noble lads and the fellow bronzed peoples continue forth to do the will of purity most high, then why is it they falter in doing such? But it is WE, the LADS who march out to bring the cleansing flames of war to our enemies, the enemies of the mortal world. Answer. Where is your courage, buurz ones? Always do I, and by extension, the LADS seek to purge what corrupts, and cleanse the impure. For over a hundred years, Sulianpoli has stood, brilliant, its temples, resplendent. Its lads? Beautiful Honorable, Loyal, pure, and most of all, brothers. Think for even a moment. When has Sulianpoli faltered? When has her lads ever bent before the impure, bent before the lesser or the cursed? When have we refused to take up arms to do battle? When have we refused to offer honor or homage? Who were the broddas we entreat with feasts, and place in the most honorable front ranks when the Call of War is found? Think. For one hundred years, and through great victories we had stood. From wars of Orenium when our silvery lads made war alongside the broddas, when we captured and colonized great swathes of the empire of Men and freed their slaves to instead toil for our blessings? Beer for the fratblarg. Glory for the colony. To the Fall of Elysium, when our finest allies had grown hateful, resentful of the presence of the HolyLand. It was I, who warned the Blood Pharaoh Borok of the mercenary men, and then later the wyrmic dragons who would come to betray our trusts, and it was the cruel spears of OUR hoplites which stood shoulder to shoulder, with our bruddas and the blessed elves and drove the Elysians from the field and from their home. For why did we go out of our way, will full heart to earn great glories and great privilege, if not for the love of our peoples? For it was I who brought about the inception of the first Great Horde, through tip of my own spear did I earn the privilege amongst the tribes of our people. It was we who urged for the second when the next scene of war had come to this land. Let us not forget the myriad of wars and battles we have fought, each one a trophy in itself. For what is there, more beautiful, than to see the perfection of form, to fight and die besides the Lads and Bruddas who love you? To take victory with them. To RAISE them high. So we may all be known as masters, and great kings. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ -Pamphilos after returning, speaking of the philosophy of the news to his oldest, and most loyal Lad _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Tell me, bruddas, urukhiim, lads. Which one of you loves your brothers? Which ones of you would raise your choppa for the honour of brothers who have done the same for you? To raise them high and see them into victory with you at their side? Which of you would sooner see those noble and glorious amongst us crushed? Denegrated, smoked? If so, I must ask you. Why do you hate your truest bruddas? For I see no logic, no argument to this, except one. Vile impurity. A cursed mind. Cruel, greedy motives. Something completely foreign to us, champions of Scorthuz, Kezt, Dazkur, Leyd, Q a r k a h. Purity, Honour, Brotherhood, Strength, Progress. For THESE Greater-Powers, I raise my cruel spear, for THEY do I polish my greaves of gleaming bronze. For THEY I sacrifice the first of my bounty, and the last. So it is in this age that we must see something righteous come to pass. For these are the words of my Lads, to whom I came to, to seek their love after my voyage. And there, my oldest, greatest, most beautiful lads spoke clearly to me, as a cloudless day, it was obvious. A solution so simple. After all Was it not krug, who in the greatest act of true love, killed Horen, sparing him a death in weakness? ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ It is here I shall begin to account for my solution... This is my call-out post. The Rebuking of The Impure. The impure, the darkness, isfet, da buurz, all of these words describe a single type of existence, a single strain of mental anguish of sickening infection which have weaved itself into the nest of the pure and honorable, of the just and beautiful, and I shall count the ways. AKAAL! It is through your left-handed path, that chaos has entered our realm! It is your self-centered perception which has driven all away who may otherwise be cohorts! It is your deeds which have broken and waylaid the natural order of things! For it is by your doing, the realms shudder, and a darkness which hangs over the urukhiim weaves its way into the minds of the honorable! You turn your back upon the descendants and the world so you may bring about a world to come! Hark! And long recall! For what was the punishment of those who brought wrath upon the peoples! What is the fate of those of the dark who fall to the temptations of Ixli! Of Ikuraz! Gadhm'Akaal, my teacher, the greatest philosopher. He would overturn your spelltables, your dark rites, and rebuke you, with stronger words than I now! For this would be only shame and dishonour to see the heights his klan has fallen! You must break your pacts! Banish your evil mojos! Your plots dashed for their cursed nature! MOTSHAM! It is YOU who speaks highly of the age to kum! Of the creation, of the destruction of the ways of things! For given to me by the high-priest of Rahtum-Ra, my dear lad Atemu were the same words I recall you telling me those years past, in the grottos most well. That what the spirits are, is tools to be used, not to be valued or worshipped! that to seek a place over them would suit you well! Tell me MOTSHAM! Did we not slay buurzshomos for less? It is YOU who have neglected the spiritual purity of the horde, so you may place yourself as master of others. For after all, to dare use the serpent men invites isfet, darkness to the realm. When have they NOT betrayed descendant kind. What is too risky? What is too impure? What is too heretical to be used? Is there such thing? The methods of your shamanism, the motivations bring to mind only IMPURITY. You are NOT fit to spiritually lead a Pure People such as the SONS OF KRUG! For this, I REBUKE YOU! VILE IMPURE! KYBAL AKAAL! You, who are known as REX! It was by your words, the people of my brother Atemu-ta had been given succor. YOU had said for them to preach the spirits, to grow and prosper, YOU had had them assimilate with our most ladly band, and YOU had it known that they were blessed and well. It is YOU who has gone back upon this word. It is you who dare banish him, and not for a true crime. For his sista, slain by the predations of the motsham, was repaid in kind. The fall of Sharog is well enough to repay the vile act of trying to enslave a bruddas sistah... For she worshipped the spirit of freedom. The banishment and stripping of status of the pharaoh was the worst you could have done there. Yet this is but only ONE of your tyrantish actions. For what right, and BY what right do you rescind the land of Sulianpoli? For taxes? How can we tax something that the skydaemons could not deliver in a timely way? It was won a dozen times over, over the course of a hundred years. ALWAYS have my lads been loyal, and we had been privileged. Loved, or so thought, and we shared this with our bruddas freely. To be so dwarven as to take back this place, it shows how highly you value HONOR in your heart! To think! You treat the mali'ker with more tact and respect despite them being recently our foes as to issue a warning, than even your own most LOYAL LADS, YOUR OWN NEIGHBOR, A HORDE STATE. If you truly held any pain for the grievance of the mali'kers vassals, you would raid them WITH us. Yet you seek to throw us, to banish a pharaoh and his people, and to take from us, the privileges we have lost beautiful lads to securing? So I tell you now, Kybal Akaal. You must fight for your honour against the challenger... If you want our cihi, then you must do as we had did to first earn it. And take it by the tip of a cruel spear! It is for these reasons, your akaal tyranny, that I REBUKE YOU! CURSED AND TARNISHED As an addendum rebuking, it has come to my attention that some vile rumours were started about me in the blessed and pure silver cihi. I did not bother reading that so-called issue of the gazette, because I took a single look at the writers, and I could tell who would write such filth and not have enough self respect to not post it. The VERY SAME tactless tarnished who would be known from that time, a hundred years ago, for she was made known to me as a hunter of magicians, an assassin who hunts magicians, and particularly slew numbers of beautiful silver elves. It was this impure who was banished from the High-Walled City and cast into the world. There, instead of seeking redemption and a purer path, sough that of hatred and lust for power. The impure path which lead to the worm itself being the subject of her worship and intentions. I ask to my reader, be they from the silver city or not, recall now that time when Princess Ivarielle, nearly given the city by that old cabal, the sorority, strode to the walls of Haelun'or, accompanied by bloodied Fennitians in their holy war, filthy impure valah and mali from old Lurin, and a grouping of tarnished 'aheral. Amongst those who prowled the streets of our occupied city, was Valindra and her co. She sought those who were cornered and alone, to slay. Seeking to murder the most beloved Maheral. It was once more, I, and my BEAUTIFUL LADS! Like Elarhil Sullas the Splendid, Beautiful Valazaer Calith, Edgars an'asul Hero of The High Walled City, The Poet Stelios, and I, myself, along with the other PATRIOTS who beat them back from our isle! Never did we spill blood in our sacred city, and still did she commit of the most filthy of all impure acts. Kinslaying. Remember NOW. How did Valindra return? She awaited for us to migrate, our government to change, twice, a new sohaer from an older time, and for the same Maheral she sought to slay to be gone from the city. Only then was she allowed back, while truer, actually pure folk, still laid banished for things much less than kinslaying and dragonworship, and poor journalism. It is for your rumormongering, murderous ways, and impure soul that I REBUKE YOU! VILE KINSLAYER! MAY YOU ENTER THE PURE WATER AND CATCH FIRE. Hail Lady Justice, who can see to us these are all correct, facts, and entirely true. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________ The Lads getting rowdy hearing Pamphilos Speak ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________ By the facts of the matter, by the love of eternity, by the love of my BROTHERS and my LADS, who have been castigated, punished, and rebuked, you will hear these demands, and by the spirits, they will be met. TO THE REX, THE MOTSHAM, AND KLAN AKAAL For your insults to your bruddas, to the lads, to the spirits, and your and impurity you shall deliver a hecatomb, 100 cattle to be sacrificed at Qarkah's alter, to buy your continued existence from the spirits. You shall return the Pharaoh to his honour, and you will deliver unto his people, a hundred talents (100 items) of salt or silver You shall accept the HONOR DUEL for REXDOM from the GOTH of UGLUK upon shame of COWARDICE (and much more) You will raise a shrine to Hesthor, Spirit of Divine Purity and bovine consort to Qarkah, and you will bathe in it three times until you are cleansed. You have until the date of the UGLUK'S KLOMP to accept these oaths of reparations. There shall be no way to skirt this, for you have chosen to make a poor bed, and you shall lay in it. We are your most loyal bruddas, but like krug before us, we will kill you in your bed for your weakness. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ -The old goths respected a victory taken by the spear of the lads For those bruddas who are true, who recall the real ways, and the ways of our honour and our mighty kleos! Those bruddas who share the love! Who fight shoulder to shoulder, who raise their mug ob grog and shank of beef in great joy. Join bruddas! For THESE are impures! And they must be CLEANSED! Through the waters of golden Scorthuz, or the flames of cruel Qarkah! Rebuke these tyrants! Let the PATRIOTS take charge! STAND WITH UGLUK! For ALL MY LADS! SPREAD THROUGH THE LANDS OF BRAEVOS! Those who read this! This is a Ladly call-to-action! Recall now the OATHS you spoke before your lads, and HONOR itself! Lads help lads, and lads NEVER abandon lads! Come! And raise your club or cruel spike, your shield or pure katana, polish your panoply of armour, and be splendid! Come! Stand by my side, noble lads! Wherever you are! Individual heroes! True champions of our bloodlines! Come and do what your oaths are for! Come and defend your Polis! Hail Sulianpoli! The Blessed Cihi! HAIL LADY VICTORY! HAIL PURITY! _________________________________________________________________________________________________________ -Pamphilos doesnt need to harass the ladies for them to be interested in what he has to say,
  8. 7th of The Amber Cold, 149 S.A. Sythaerin Manor, Tahn'miar, the Silver State of Haelun’or In the times before Haelun’or’s founding, a pair of well-learned Elves lived in the forest city of Laurelin. Theveus, a tailor, and Alyss, a scholar with a particular interest in the arcane, often found themselves unable to unwind at the end of the day. A life without progress was a boring one, to them. Centuries passed, and the pair had finally found their peers. Under the guidance of Larihei Lohmanih, who acknowledged and embraced their ambitions, they joined the first generation of what would later become known as Mali’Aheral. In the years to come, they would bear a single child, who went off to learn about the world by himself once he was of age, as his father had done before him. As Aegis fell, their story ended. But the family they founded would become a prosperous one over a century later, upon their son’s return to Haelun'or. Once Silvos returned, he quickly found himself befriending a particularly curious Mali’thilln known as Kalenz Uradir, who would show him the way of the scholar. It was there that the true expression of his familial thirst for progress could finally be realized. He’d soon find himself enamored with a female scholar, Hileia’Vione Akeleh, whom he would come to marry and have four children with over the coming centuries, thereby ensuring his bloodline’s continued existence. Lin’evaral, with the Sythaerin tower overlooking it. (Circa. 1442) by Silvos Sythaerin After the fall of Asulon, Haelun’or refounded itself in Lin’Evaral. Here, the Sythaerin family became a known staple within the community. The first Haelun’orian laboratories were constructed, and within it, Silvos thrived as okarir’maehr. Three of his children would soon do as he did when he was younger, and leave to travel the world, giving in to their own curiosity. The remaining daughter married a High elf that could match the ambition and drive of her father, by the name of Kalameet Izalith, soon after which the both of them took their leave from Haelun’or as well. From elSiimah’Sythaerin, within the highest district of the city, Silvos and Hileia gazed up at the stars and watched the future unfold. It would be a long time before the occasional Sythaerin returned to Haelun’or, their old family father always still there, running the labs, until eventually retiring after Hileia’s passing to travel the continents they’d moved to by himself. Centuries later, in Arcas, the laurir came to the gates with three of his descendants, spread across the generations, to give the wheel of progress another good spin. Here, they’d work together to reintroduce Haelun’or to proper research in the laboratories, and Sorcaril would plant the seed for a future career in elSillumiran. They remained for a few decades, then vanished once more as abruptly as they’d appeared. Finally, the Mali’aheral found themselves living in Aevos. A colossal continent, with ample opportunity to explore and wander. The patriarch, finally convinced he should rest, handed the family’s leadership over to his great-grandson Sorcaril. Along with a handful of other descendants, he would come to usher in the new era of Sythaerin prosperity. The Sythaerin Family Portrait (circa 148S.A.) by, Silvos Sythaerin. Depicted from left to right are Maethor Sythaerin, Maerayla Sythaerin, Sorcaril Sythaerin, Silvos Sythaerin, Theveus Sythaerin, Ashwyn Sythaerin, and Tahorran Sythaerin. Since the early days of Haelun’or, Sythaerins have been curious types. The family head, being an overly curious scholar, founded the laboratories. By this example, most Sythaerins will be driven and direct, though potentially neurotic should one disagree with their ideals or stand in the way of their personal progress. Many of them find themselves unable to remain in one place for too long, expressed by traveling the continent to alleviate their wanderlust. Sythaerins, like most Mali’aheral, have tall, slender builds. Their hair is predominantly a light blonde or white, turning platinum with age. Their eye colors range from purple to cyan, with occasional exceptions. Historically Sythaerins have not been physically impressive as many of htem have pursued the voidal arts, yet restraining from such as most have done in recent years does allow for considerably lean or even bulky physiques. The Sythaerin crest and other Talonnii memorabilia often feature the serpent, a nickname given to Silvos in his younger years in reference to his creation of acid, as well as his animal companion. The Talonnii colors are dark cyan and evergreen tones, cleft by a slither of silver. As such, many Sythaerins often don these colors to represent their Talonnii. It’s a rare sight to see a self-respecting Sythaerin in anything but that. The Sythaerin Talonnii Wax Stamp, created by Silvos Sythaerin Silvos Sythaerin’s likeness, ca. 24 S.A. Silvos Sythaerin (@MrSyth) Malaurir, Founder of the Sythaerin Dynasty, One of the Earliest Mali’thills, Inventor of Acid, Creator of Many a Magical Artifact, C.E.O. of Sythaerincorp Sorcaril Sythaerin (@Cobbler) Esteemed ‘thill commander, led the Haelun’or forces in the Haelunorian Conquest of Nevahlen Theveus Sythaerin (@MailC3p) Mar’sil of elSillumir and C.F.O. of Sythaerincorp Ashwyn Sythaerin (@Asutto) Scholar and Architect Maethor Sythaerin (@DeusVult) Famed Sythaerin Duelist Maerayla Sythaerin (@marikandaperc) Sythaerin Skirmisher Alinar Sythaerin (@Omnicompetent) Sythaerin Skirmisher Prior to the Sythaerin arrival on Aevos, the Sythaerins remained a largely neutral Talonnii. They engaged in conflicts when called on by the Silver State but never initiated one. During Sorcaril’s revival of the Talonnii, the Sythaerins took critical roles in elSillumir, leading them to initiate the Haelunorian Conquest of Nevaehlen. Sorcaril oversaw the majority of the campaign by recruiting the Warband of Mog and initiating several decisive battles for Haelun’or. Other Sythaerins such as Theveus, Maethor, Kenian, and Ashwyn took to the roads and captured several notable members of the Cove including the Matriarch and various council members. They initiated further skirmishes with the Cove and were successful in slowly draining ’ame resources. Notable Sythaerin Engagements The First Balian Skirmish (138 S.A.) | Victory ⚔ During the Sorcaril Renaissance, Sorcaril extended a hand of charity out to the Kingdom of Balian and offered a skirmish between them and the elSillumir. Come the day of the skirmish, Sorcaril fell sick with a cold and Maethor picked up command. Under his command, the Sythaerin-Sillumir force flawlessly defeated their enemy. The Iron Horde Skirmish (140 S.A.) | Victory ⚔ Following their flawless victory over the Balianite Military, Sorcaril sought out a more challenging opponent. He challenged the Iron Horde and the Warband of Mog to a skirmish of even numbers. Under the command of Socaril the Sythaerin-Sillumir force flawlessly defeated their uruk opponents in a three to zero skirmish. The Second Balian Skirmish (142 S.A.) | Victory ⚔ After obliterating the Iron Horde, Sorcaril turned back to invite the Kingdom of Balian to another skirmish after hearing of a mass recruitment drive. Upon the day of the Skirmish, the joint Sythaerin-Sillumir force outnumbered the Balian force by double. Sorcaril, being honorable in nature agreed to allow an equal number skirmish to ensure. In a best out of three, the Sythaerin-Sillumir force demolished their opponents without taking any losses. The Battle of Silver Dawn’s (147 S.A.) | Victory ⚔ After the Asulir of Haelun’or, Kolvar Uradir issued a declaration of war upon the Cove of Nevahlen a joint Sythaerin-Sillumir force led by Silvos and Sorcaril dispatched themselves to the capital city of Nevahlen, where they sacked the city. No casualties were taken. The Battle of Grubnahk’s Charge (148 S.A.) | Victory ⚔ In one of the largest engagements of the war, a joint Sythaerin-Sillumir-Warband force rallied against the Cove in an attempt to occupy the Cove’s south-eastern territories. Sorcail, alongside the mercenary, Grubnahk the Elf commanded the battle which ultimately ended in a decisive victory.
  9. Okarir'akaln Proposal for Wartime Laws (This proposal is released to establish a legal framework that clearly defines war crimes. This definition should include acts such as the deliberate targeting of civilians, torture, pillaging, destruction of cultural heritage, and the use of prohibited weapons.) In order to maintain a just and civilised society, it is imperative for a nation to enact policies and laws specifically addressing and prohibiting war crimes. These policies and laws will serve to protect the rights and dignity of individuals during times of armed conflicts. Adopting comprehensive policies and laws against war crimes is crucial for a nation to uphold justice, protect descendant rights, and maintain order during armed conflicts. By establishing clear guidelines, ensuring accountability, and actively prosecuting the perpetrators, such a nation can contribute to a safer and more compassionate world. As Mali'thill, it is up to us to set an example for all other beings, and thus it is even more imperative that we remain measured in how we treat enemy combatants and people even in war. This proposal is thus an attempt at spurring a collective effort at new laws and policies for protecting the weak and vulnerable. Here is a basic framework for policies and laws against war crimes for Haelun'or and its armed forces; written in consultation of the Okarir'Sil; 1. Accountability and Jurisdiction: Establish a dedicated court or tribunal responsible for prosecuting war crimes. Ensure that this court has the necessary authority, resources, and independence to carry out fair and impartial trials. Clearly define jurisdictional boundaries to ensure that all perpetrators, regardless of their status or affiliation, can be held accountable for their actions. The Tribunal must consist of the Okarir'sil and either a second Okarir or a Tilruir. Without either of these a Tribunal is not official in its completion. The accused individuals are brought before the tribunal for trial. They are provided with legal representation (or can represent themselves), and the proceedings adhere to fair trial standards; including the right to a defense, presentation of evidence, cross-examination of witnesses, and the right to appeal judgments (at the cost of appeal fees [100 Minas]). In the case that the Okarir'sil is to be held accountable via tribunal, the entire Silver Council must be present. 2. Prohibition of Targeting Civilians: The intentional targeting of civilians is a grave crime. This includes acts such as indiscriminate attacks, alchemical bombings or magical destruction of populated areas, and deliberate attacks on apothecaries, academies, and religious sites. Civilian lives must be protected at all costs. If granted asylum, Civilians are to be afforded Third Class Citizen rights under Article 33 of the Silver Constitution. 3. Protection of Prisoners of War: Prisoners should be treated with basic dignity and protected from harm until judgement. This includes provisions ensuring their physical integrity, fair treatment and access to medical assistance. Prohibit acts of torture, inhumane treatment, or any form of forced labor until either trial or an official ruling has taken place via the Okarir'sil. 4. Protection of Cultural Heritage: Safeguard cultural and historical sites, monuments, and artifacts during armed conflicts. Strictly prohibited is the intentional destruction, looting, or appropriation of cultural heritage. Measures to ensure the preservation and restoration of damaged or destroyed cultural property should be made where possible. 5. Prohibition of Prohibited Weapons: Identify and prohibit the use of weapons that cause unnecessary suffering or superfluous injury. Magic or alchemical attacks that create uncontrollable or widespread damage to the environment and indiscriminately target civilians are entirely prohibited; including but not limited to necromantic weapons, plagues and void tears. 6. Protection of Healers: Healers and care givers are to be provided with the necessary resources, safeguards, and legal immunity to carry out their duties without fear of persecution or harm. Healers and care givers lose their status if they actively fight, provide weapons or reasources to fight or actively contribute to the war effort on either side. 7. Protection against unjust raids: The seizure of supplies used for funding and supporting a war effort is expected; however the seizure of basic resources required to survive and the pillaging of personal property should be guarded against. Searching individuals on the roads for weaponry beyond that which is expected for personal protection, contraband such as Daemonsteel or ferrum is permitted and seizure is to be expected. Seizing minas/personal effects/tools, however, is prohibited unless the individual is proven to be an enemy combatant, not just an enemy civilian. Thank you for reading, I hope that this proposal leads to alterations and additions to our great Silver Constitution, for the betterment of our Kin across the continent, Signed Yera Silveira Okarir'Akaln of Haelun'or Founder of the Silver Merchant Sovereignty Consulted by Alexander Nightingale Okarir'Sil of Haelun'or
  10. "Dear friends, be men now. Put courage into your hearts, and act honorable in the sight of your comrades in battle. When men act with honor, more are saved than are killed, but when they take flight, there is neither glory nor refuge." -The Son of Halkyone, when addressing The Great Horde. The day before them was already long, for the song of battle had been sung by lads and broddas alike, but long before then, had the son of Halkyone already gathered his spear and shield, to sharpen and polish respectively. In the time he had been spending there, around the Hyptos villa, it was Fair Haelun'or which had sung the call to war, and already had they mustered lines and lines of beautiful citizen soldiers, in panoplies of sacred silver. Indeed, this was to be a campaigning season, much like the last, which had seen victories in the east and the west. It was clear to him, the son of beautiful Iphigenia, what must next be done, for in the end, it would be by his wile and spike that once more, would he secure the togetherness of the great Pure Peoples. Depiction of The Silver Shields, Larihei's own personal warband, before the silver exodus from the father's kingdom. And indeed, togetherness would come! Though it took feasts, and song, and dance, and a direct battle-challenge against the biggest brudda there at the time, the Anax of Sulianpoli, that tanned sailor had managed to once more secure a noble alliance, for it was the words of wine and honey, that of glory and battle alongside the FIRST of the pure peoples to form the blessed Horde. That which had brought about so much power in the times before. For indeed, who was it that first came to the aid of the Pure Peoples, if not the brothers of the Holy Land, Krugmenistan itself! Upon laying low the champion of the broddas flat, all were eager to hear of the war to come, and the battle to be had. Those few who dissented to the idea, silenced when challenged by that wrestling mali'thilln! And so, the position was set, for when Larihei's servants came before the kruggers, they had already sought to see The Horde united for another great campaign. After all, they had known. It WAS the armies of Haelun'or, of silver and bronze, which had brought them the sought-after destruction of Elysium. It was Pamphilos who had brought them together, for that first great horde. Depiction of Lady Luthriel, most loyal to Larihei, in the maiden's most traditional panoply Indeed, how can it be unknown? That the might of the pure peoples is unmatched. In that time before, great Haelun'or had been betrayed. The shadowy sorority, the blasted Cabal which had sought to usurp the government, had sought to hand off the sacred cihi to the usurper princess, and her following of Fennitians and dragonmen. When all other nations gathered in support behind the usurper, it was by the effort of the Son of Halkyone, and the most noble patriots, who gathered the bronze masks of their patriotic ancestors, and formed that ladly band. By their own merit, they secured eternity, and great privilege by the tip of pointed spike. That by their deeds, they had shown the nobility and the purity of the silvered race, and as such, they built the Horde, partnered together, Blood Pharaoh, Sohaer, and Knög of the North. It was this rise of power, which stood valiantly before all who opposed. That one girly-voiced dwarf-king which sought to write his name on eternity, and those greedy cursed Valah of the realms of Men. They all faced the force which now stood behin the High-walled cihi, and which had brought victories in the west, and the east, and secured the fate of the eternal cihi, blesssed Balian, and of cursed Elysium. "Who are you to wrangle with kings and princesses, you alone?" Words of Ivarielle to Pamphilos, shortly before he arrived with the whole horde "Not a word of retreat. You'll never persuade me. It's not my nature to shrink from battle, cringe in fear with the fighting strength still steady in my chest. I shrink from mounting our chariot-- no retreat --on foot as I am, I'll meet them Mali-to-Mali. Larihei would never let me flinch!" -Pamphilos The Patriot when being told to flee the occupied Silver City Larihei of Victory giving her Blessing to Pamphilos on the Bridge, as he held it utterly In this age, to not let the past repeat itself, just as had been prescribed by the son of Halkyone, the council of the high-walled cihi had begun to ready the troops further, a great expansion of the forces of Sillumiran had been made. For after all, it was by the grace of Larihei and the loyalty of her Silver Shields, that she had taken the first silver cihi by tip of bronze spear. the Horde had been turned upon by a past ally. The men of Norland had sought to secure a victory by standing besides the Mali of The Vale, and yet in their arrogance, they had forgotten who had been their most ancient allies. The kruggers. The northern warrior-raiders stood besides the mali this day. They will fall besides them as well. Soon, the Lads of The Band, and the kruggers had begun to march forth to the place decided for battle. The bridge which crossed the River Hesthor from south to north. There, the archers of the wildwood would surely be ensconced. It was there they would make their stand, against the Pure Host. As the warriors of Krugmenistan rattled their spears and the Silvered of Haelun'or marched orderly, the lads stood side by side, their trained and exercised motions kept them next to one another as they too made way for the field of battle. The orders came from the battle's grand commander. Wise words. That we shall not partake in an archery engagement, as is instinct when two forces from rival elven citystates meet. Instead, we shall storm the bridge, and break apart their positions. Yet, as the lines of Mali'thilln readied, their shields and their bows to take position on the banks of the river, and goblinoid and urukhiim skirmishers ducked from cover to cover, it was clear the engagement could swing either way with such an open field of fire upon the invaders! But the lads, glanced between one another, and they knew the true value of staying to the mission. Atemu-ta and Adorellan An'asul, the two lads closest to him gripped their own javelins hard as they took position by the edge of the bridge, yet, courage in his heart, it was boisterous Pamphilos who burst from the lines and charged onto the bridge! Arrows whizzed, each impact from the wood elven longbows rang against his heavy shield, glancing off from its convex form, or embedding deep into the bronzesheeted shield. Pamphilos, holding firm the spear of Victory, which crackled with the electric energy of Larihei's own victories, was a tempting target. For as long as it lasted, he had drawn the fire of most of the enemy archers, so before the commander called the charge, the defenders of Malin had already begun to break under fire. Atemu-ta, and Adorellan continued forth, with their own javelins and darts to backup the son of Halkyone, using his shield as a wall from which to fire upon. With this support, Pamphilos on the bridge was able to march forwards under heavy fire!! Even to the point a defender came forth to meet him, only to be shot and struck back to his defensive line by the biting strike of the Spear of Victory! Which construction cut through his armour as if it was not there. It was at this sign of bravery and duty, that the grand commanders had recalled the initial plan, and reformed the ranks of fighters behind the bridge. It was at the blast of the warhorn did the next truth reveal itself. Pamphilos, first on the bridge, and first over the bridge, leading Grubnakh’s Charge! At the sound of the charge, and the rocking rumble of the feet of the warriors against the bridge, did Pamphilos launch into battle! Leaping DEEP into the enemy's formation! It was this disruption which showed the backs of the viking shield defenders to the advancing soldiers. And after their shield walls met, the defenders began a fighting retreat. And yet, still leading the chase, it was those three lads... Atemu striking down a defender with his khopesh, and the An'asul's blade catching that of the gladeguard, and yet did that spear of victory fly forwards! With the weight of Larihei's purity behind them, did the warriors of the whole host defeat and drive back the defenders! reduced to skirmishers in the woods, was it clear. With the glorious charge completed, and the warriors having stripped the fallen of their weapons and panoplies, it was clear the fate to come. Great Glory! ------------------------------------------ "When the mali leaps in the breach that way no one can blame or disobey him, no Mali'thilln, not when he spurs the troops and gives commands.. That is Larihei's way." -Sillumir Warrior to the Son of Halkyone "You, the bravest of all Mali'thilln--and one with the spine to battle Krug face-to-face!" -Krugs child to the Son "To be first over the bridge, the first to strike, and the last to leave. That is the sign of a loyal soldier, of a son of Larihei who embraces a worthy duty. What you did, was above and beyond the call. Hero of war." -Sillumiran to the Son
  11. THE SILVER MERCHANT SOVEREIGNTY AUCTION TOUR 14th of Sun’s Smile, SA 138 The Silver Merchants Sovereignty welcomes the citizens of the Balian Kingdom and its adored allies to attend a small auction taking place within its grand sunlit city. We shall have a number of hand-crafted and unique items for your perusal available at a variety of budgets. Should you wish to have your own items put up for sale please approach the auctioneer before the auction, with your items starting price and the understanding that there shall be a ten percent cut taken on behalf of the auction. If you cannot make it to this auction, do not fret. We shall be showcasing our merchant's stunning array of items at two further stops on separate dates! I hope to see you there, Maehr’sae hiylun’ehya. EVENT DETAILS EXPLANATION There are many lored items available, lots of which with custom digital art, some with PVP functionality and some of varying rarities! Here are just a FEW examples! Signed, Yera Silveira, Trade Princess of the Silver Merchants Sovereignty, Okarir'Akaln of Haelunor OOC Information: Location: Balian Kingdom, City Entrance (Stage) From: 24/07/2023 10pm BST
  12. The Tales of Bevos Between the time when the oceans drank Thelmaras, and the rise of the sons of Thullus, there was an age dreamed of. It is the year 173 of the Third Age, life has become stable in the Heart Lands and ruins are being discovered at the edges of new civilization, the Guild of Wandering Adventurers has decided to explore the region known as The Westlands to earn the hidden gold, explore forgotten lands and gain influence of which a powerful artifact of cataclysmic power wouldn’t be turned down should such remain from The Cataclysm. It is I, the chronicler, who alone can tell thee of this saga. Let me tell you of the days of high adventure! You, dear citizenry will be able to act out the roles of these adventurers, those who fall to the deadly beasts and monsters of the land, to those who manage to retire for a pleasant life and the rare ones who become legends and myths for the centuries to come. I, Seth Calith, will be the Game Chronicler, I will be acting out the monsters, detail the lands, present the puzzles of ancient times. A mixture of storyteller and judge. Characters are required to partake, if you find me I will aid you in the creation of your personal character, careful still, for an unlucky bolt flying past your allies might be the last thing your character sees. There will be four races and four classes to play, each class has three variants which are selected as you go up levels, of which your wealth acquired will determine your level. New adventures are always 1’st level at the beginning, there will also be the option of hiring aid from nearby settlements, cities and travelers, you might even be able to fund your own settlement, to become a local ruler. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The four races are as follows: Humans, they look like our humans from this world and their attributes are wildly different from one another. As such they are able to be any class without any requirements. Elves in this universe are green, they are all dexterous and knowledgeable, Mages and Thieves are common among their kin but the exceptional strong can become Warriors and the exceptional wise can become Zealots. Dwarves are all strong, tough and red. Strong military traditions makes it so most of them are Warriors and Zealots, with the most dexterous being able to take the path of the Thief and the smartest of them able to become Mages And lastly and least, Halflings. They are the color of their patron god, Knox, a bright orange. They are also blessed with his Wisdom and charismatic tongue, unsurprisingly due to the small statue, many of them become Thieves or due to faith Zealots. With the strongest of them having a chance to become Warriors and the smartest of them Mages. The four classes are as follows: Warrior: You’re quick, strong, and militant. Combat is your specialty, and you’re able to deal and sustain more damage than any other. The variants are Barbarians, Fighters and Rangers. Thief: You’re sly, cunning, and precise. Stealth is your specialty, and you can bypass obstacles, patrols, and locks better than anyone. The variants are Assassin, Bard and Rogue. Zealot: You’re devoted, stalwart, and divine. Fervor is your specialty, and your commitment grants you providential powers. You gain divine spellcasting using your wisdom. The variants are Cleric, Druid and Paladin. Mage: You’re clever, powerful, and mysterious. You delve into arcane teachings and demonic sacrifices, untapping eldritch energy. You gain arcane spellcasting using your intelligence. The variants are Wizard, Warlock and Sorcerer. Follow up questions are always welcomed. The intention is to play each 1’st Snow’s Maiden [[Wednesday 2:30 pm est]], with the hope that additional days can be announced in the future. Groups are forged by the first five people to show up that given day as members of the guild work alongside each other into the unknown of the West Lands. Below is a small map each adventurer has been gifted by the guild, much is to be explored but hopefully, this will be the edge you need. Signed, Seth Calith.
  13. Usamea found herself in a typical evening within the graceful city of Vallagne. The elven lady moved amidst the flowing currents of the people, tending to her own affairs and obligations. Among the bustling crowd, a human figure emerged—a simple, weather-worn man who had the look of one in need. His plea was humble and earnest, an appeal for any assistance she could offer. He was not fussy—food, coin, or any form of aid would do. Usamea, moved by his plea, adhered to the principle that guided her kin: to offer aid to the needy was to uplift all. She rummaged through her belongings, her hands finding packets of food since she lacked any coins at the moment. Offering the sustenance to the man, she watched as his face lit up with relief and gratitude. His thanks were followed by an offer of repayment, a promise made out of earnest goodwill. But Usamea, guided by the wisdom of her people, knew that acts of kindness were not a transaction. She gently declined, instead encouraging him to extend his own hand to others in need when the opportunity arose. As it happened, this humble beggar was far more than he seemed. The prophet, touched by the generosity of the silver-haired lady, felt compelled to repay her in his own way. And so, he gifted her a vision that would prove far more valuable than any coin or feast. It was a glimpse into what lay ahead and what happened before, a prophecy woven into the fabric of the future, filled with cryptic symbols and dire warnings. Engulfed in the tendrils of a vision, Usamea fell into a chasm of darkness, a yawning abyss that stretched beyond sight. A sea of black swelled beneath her, its ebon waves lapping her form as she surrendered to the relentless current. Then, a beacon erupted from the abyss, pulling her up into a cascade of colors and realities that twisted her senses. When the vertigo subsided, she found herself standing in a grand throne room, a masterpiece sculpted from gold and embraced by nature's green fingers. The echoes of a name rang in the air - "Larihei!" Usamea blinked, disoriented, as a male mali'ame stormed in, calling out to her, or rather, Larihei. In that instant, she understood. She was but a passenger, viewing this world through Larihei's eyes. “Ito Aeloran” the elf's voice bounced off the golden walls, laden with urgency. The room seemed to breathe, its grandeur morphing into a scene of blood-soaked chaos. A battle unfurled before her, the battlefield a macabre dance between infernal horrors and brave elven warriors. Each elf felled was answered by a crumbling undead, their ashes blowing away in the wind. Yet, the horrors seemed endless. Then the heavens split open, and a figure descended - a form so vile that even the air seemed to recoil. Recognition twisted in her gut. This was Iblees, the Betrayer. The air vibrated with his stolen tongues, each word a dagger thrust into her mind. His betrayal culminated in a single act; he cast a bolt of dark miasma that struck her and the warrior beside her. She could almost feel her veins turn to ice as the curse of Iblees took hold. In a moment, the scene changed. Time spun its wheel, revealing the growth of the elven kin - mali’aheral, mali’ame, mali’ker. She saw their cities rise, a testament to their perseverance and ambition, and watched them evolve, always from a vantage point above. The final scene was a departure from the rest. Usamea found herself in a cavern lit by an eerie glow. Three figures in robes stood before a tear in reality, the room pulsing with voidal magic. From the tear, ghostly mists seeped into the air, their spectral whispers coiling around her like serpents. An instinctual dread settled in her heart: something about this was profoundly wrong. As the vision released its grip, Usamea was left with more than just a sense of dread. She bore the weight of a prophecy, a call to action. Her path was now clear.
  14. Issued 19th of The First Seed, Year 132 of The Second Age Far have the Mali’thilln travelled - through treacherous danger, trials of the elements, fighting away dark foes. Though our home in Almaris was lost to the Mori’Quessir, our people and the teachings of Larihei persevere. The Children of Silver press forth - in progress and in health Arriving to safer lands, the busy hands of the Silver Elves set to work. Our new home was raised tall upon a lofty peak of Aevos: Tahn’miar. In fair Tahn’miar we shall host our grand ball; an awakening of our new home, open to all Blessed citizens and our allies. The theme of the eve will be white, silver and blue - colours symbolic of purity, Maehr’sae hiylun’ehya and knowledge. The Silver City kindly requests all guests to plan their wardrobe accordingly. Prizes shall be distributed for best dressed. Location: Tavern Invitations are extended to our allies: The Kingdom of Balian @ErikAzog The Kingdom of Norland @ichigomaster98 The Exilic Kingdom of Númendil @MalchediaelVult The Crown of Amathine @JJosey The Shiredom of Dúnwen @Hearth The Ashen Realm of Nor’asath @Gaea_Foundation The Most Serene State of Lurin @mika1278 The Iron Horde @Evonpire The Village of Hefrumm @_RoyalCrafter_ We look forward to your attendance, lliran. ~ Maehr’sae hiylun’ehya ~ OOC: 3pm EST/8pm BST, Sunday 18th Medi’ir to elSohaer
  15. Ewdrawings

    Yera's Workshop

    https://imgur.com/a/9BOGIh0 Yera's Workshop COMMISSIONS: CLOSED (Yera is available on Sat, Sun, Mon, Tue) Location: Haelun'or Contact Information: Yera Silveira (IGN: Ewdrawings // Discord:Ewdrawings) (Art can take up to an Elven Week) Custom Item (Art + Copyright): 400 Minas (One Day Rush [+100 Minas]) [Why so expensive? Art takes 1-4 hours on a good day. 4 hours of work at minimum wage is £40-50!] Custom Character Art: 800 Minas (One Day Rush [+200 Minas]) (Bust) [Why so expensive? Char Art takes 3-8 hours on a good day. 8 hours of work at minimum wage is £80-100!] Seller will not resell assets of the item/art. Seller retains the right only to use the art for advertisement/portfolio. SLOTS: 1) Empty Pre-Made Items Visit in-store to purchase and receive the RP items Custom Items Visit in-store to Order (Haelun'or), or DM (Ewdrawings#1739) for info & to arrange a meeting. Previous Sales Here is a log of art for previous sales!
  16. CONCERNING THE PASSING OF TALIA FILEYUNE SULLAS As written upon on this 8th of The Amber Cold, 131 S.A. From The Exilic Kingdom of Númendil To the Esteemed Council of the The Silver State of Haelun'or: Seth Calith - elMaheral of elcihi'thilln - @Samler Luthien Maeyr'onn - elSohaer of elcihi'thilln - @BlueBudgie Celestia - Okarir'maehr - @Amelica Malithor Nullivari - Okarir'tir - @Papa_Nook Idendril Elassidil - Okarir'nor - @Widu Elarhil Sullas - Medi'ir - @riorr Aiera Sullas - Laurir - @Stump Honorable ‘aheral of the State, With a heavy heart, I formally write to inform you of the untimely demise of Talia Fileyune Sullas, a cherished member of the prominent Sullas Talonnii, within the Silver State of Haelun'or. It is with deep regret that I share this sorrowful news, which has left an irreplaceable void in the hearts of her loved ones and the community as a whole. Talia was a revered figure in many of the places she came to live, known for her unwavering commitment to the principles and values that form the foundation of Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya. Her dedication to the care and learning of the mali’aheral inside and out of elcihi’thilln was truly unparalleled, and her contributions shall forever be remembered as a testament to her noble character and indomitable spirit. As I personally mourn the loss of my lari’onn, Talia, I would be remiss to not extend my heartfelt sympathy and condolences to the rest of the Talonnii I once bore the name of, especially her beloved mal’onn, Kileath, first cousin Iyathavir, and Laurir Aiera Sullas who would be with the deepest feelings of profound pain with her absence. I offer my unwavering support and, despite our differences and my standing, pledge to stand by them during this difficult period, providing solace and assistance in any way I can. In recognition of my sister’s untimely demise at the hands of Mori’quessir in the final defense of Almaris, I urge that you hold a commemorative vigil and funeral pyre in her honor. To not only mourn the loss of a pure-blooded ‘aheral, but to celebrate her life, her achievements, and the enduring spirit to learning and teaching that she leaves behind. During this time of bereavement, let the citizens of the esteemed Silver State of Haelun'or unite in solidarity and extend our support to one another and the Sullas Talonnii. Together, you can honor Talia's memory and ensure that her passing is not in vain, but that her commitment to the Eternal Library and that of Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya remain an inspiration for generations to come. May her soul find eternal peace in Ebrietaes and find a metaphorical embrace of Larihei. May her memory forever grace the halls of the Silver City and of the Sullasian Manor. Sincerely, Saoren Seregon of The Exilic Kingdom of Númendil, Steward of the Exilic Kingdom of Númendil, Scribe to the Court of Tar-Númenatâr Foronathor of the Royal House Arthalionath, Tutor to the Court of Tar-Númenatâr Foronathor of the Royal House Arthalionath
  17. ________________________________________________________________________________________ The best revenge is not to be like your enemy. -Aurolos Hyptos ______________________________________________________________________________________ In these days, I have found myself pondering the ways of our people. Ostracized for a period of over a dozen years, I have yet been engaged in the furthering of wellness and progress through the realms of descendants, all to further the honor and standing of my motherland, my eternal citystate. Grand trials I had given myself, to prove my worth to my kin. From winning through spear and honorably conduct, the ear of the Rex on behalf of our citystate, and in serving to secure the lands and standing of our kin in the multitudious lands of valah, and others I care ne mention; I knew there was mystery yet to be dealt. For why else, would they, my kin, blessed of mind and beautiful of form, maintained my status as ostracized? I sought, though, In the depths of my soul, and the memories of my silver blood, handed to me by my pure ancestors, I have studied on the words of my beloved maheral, and was given the wisdom of those most ancient. Words that seemed so simple, so easy, yet so real, echoed through the mouth of Anaxagoras who stood at the threshold of that city of the pure ones to which we may pass. "Stay Humble" Long have we reigned, for thousands of years, unending has been our gracious and eternal motherland, and our blessed race. Often have we, in those long intervening years, as our elders saw fit, have we taken down to pen and scroll what was deemed necessary in life. Our poetry, our pedantry, our techniques and our sacred traditions. Yet by the whims of the forms and great spirits, throes of battle, and the wishes of those who come after the wise ones of the ancient age, our wisdoms from those antique times often shrink, in what many would deem, necessary areas. Yet, how is it we can reclaim those wisdoms of the ancient age? Some of the ancestors who lived through it, are often tight lipped, if they so chose to be. Though it is in the depths of our minds and our selves we may come to see the truest nature of our philosophy. Within that Temple Sublime, we can nourish our silver souls and bodily forms, and therefore, bring about the philosophy most sacred to us in this mortal material world, for which we are so connected. -Taken from the work 'Ay'Haelun'or! by the famed philosopher Braxus Ni’leya Recommended reading for the astute ___________________________________________________________ "-Only time can heal what reason cannot." -Calisto Hyptos _____________________________________________________________ Truly, we are blessed creatures, for within our very forms, is the highest form of mortal soul. So mighty are its components, which are found individually amongst certain lessers, is brought into totality within our own being. Because of this, our grand work, Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya, is what is most necessary to see ourselves continue on the pure path and attain the highest heights, to return to the 'source' that eternal, first pure principle. Yet, taken literally, the saying of Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya conveys already an exoteric literal meaning. 'Continue to gain (in progress) and in health'. yet, lliran, what can we truly say we gain, if we do ne challenge ourselves? The reasonable soul says we seek to do what is within our power to affirm our maehr'sae hiylun'ehya The spirited soul longs for greater, and draws the spirited onwards towards maehr'sae hiylun'ehya even through difficulties The Appetitive soul hungers to take maehr'sae hiylun'ehya, and take it most well. All three of them together? That is the Mali'thilln who seeks the heights of her maehr'sae hiylun'ehya We are born pure, yet as we age, time expresses itself in our form just as it does in any manner of thing, from well formed tree, to a weathered mountain. Even pure silver tarnishes if it is not maintained. Polished. The Iron Temple is representative of Stress. Its a way we can control the manner in which we stress our physical forms, because we can develop a routine. One day you work your arms, your torso, your legs... Then Athletics, and skill, silver tongue, and weights... etc you are putting yourself in the same environment over and over because you are looking to focus upon the certain skills or parts of your form you are wishing to develop. But. What are you developing, regardless of what muscle or part of your form you are training? Your mind. Your body is merely an expression of your mentality across time. If you are consistently putting yourself in an environment that emphasizes strength, of form, and of mind, then the body reflects that. The only way we can strengthen our mind is by doing uncomfortable things. Going to the Iron Temple when you start out, may not be fun because it may be difficult. But if it was not difficult, it is not worth doing. This is the teaching of Larihei most evident. For she had given away her position, high in the kingdom of Malin the father, to pursue higher heights, the founding of a citystate is no easy task. Over time, you develop a tolerance for that stress. Yet, it doesn't get easier. You get stronger. I recommend, every mali'thilln performs bodyweight training. It allows for defining of the individual mali'thilln's form, but mastering the core carries on to every other form of training, physical or mental. Would a magician accept someone who is not disciplined as one of his apprentices? How would a mason, or a fisher, or a smith, or sillumir fare if he is not consistently dedicating themselves to something which would otherwise tarnish in the sun and rain? __________________________________________________________________________________ "Have I been made for this, to lie under the blankets and keep myself warm?" -Anaxagoras Hyptos. Unsatisfied. - there was little challenge after the wars of exodus, before the wars of Acalanti during the resplendent days of the first silver city ______________________________________________________________________________ Just as in anything worthy of Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya, to sculpt one's self greater at the Iron Temple requires dedication, you must be consistent, not for but one month, perhaps more than a year, but for a decade. What comes along with discipline within the Iron Temple, comes discipline outside. It allows you to stay focused when things become uncomfortable and uncertain. Creating a mindset, a mentality which cannot be broken. You're going to be physically intimidating. Being weak is not something to be ashamed of. Staying weak, now that is an impurity at the highest heights. For it is to cast away the silver, into the rain, and perhaps you may retrieve it when necessary, but only if you can pick it out from the other cobbles on the street with the tarnish it has accumulated. Every mali'thilln is born with the potential to become stronger, in every way, and if you go through your entire life without expressing this potential, then you will eventually regret it. That is sad. By strengthening your mind, you are also sculpting the body of dreams, the perfect A e s t h e t i c that has been sought by even our most ancient, and perhaps most advanced, forebares. So what is there to lose? It takes effort? YES! Everything that is worth it takes effort. That is why we are here. __________________________________________________________________ Conceal a flaw, and the world will imagine the worst. _____________________________________________________________ There are lessons I have learned, in the studyhalls of War, of Theory, of Law, of Love. Those that have shown cracks in perfect marble, yet fret not do I, in the face of the backhanded act, of the shadowy moves of detractors, or the wayward stories told by snakes behind the back. Lessons I have taken, from that Temple of Iron, I have used to sculpt my form, and my mind, into those of great strength. Standing before the court, when death was called upon me, shrink, I did not. Shirk, did I not. I engaged it truly, welcoming my fate, for it was chosen by those chosen by el'maheral. By his very words, which are those of Larihei, I know what is real. We Mali'thilln sing not our triumphs to others, we sing not our worthy accomplishments, and we contain ourselves, within a stoic and placid demeanor, but we do not shy away when it is others who sing our praises, who call the city to revel on our behalf, for our deeds are what mark us in this world. We are the manifestation of purity, of Larihei The Prophet's vision onto this world. For all that we are, and all the perfection we may attain, and eternity we may earn, it is important above all #Stay Humble -Pamphilos Callidora Hyptos
  18. The Ball of Starlight elannyern celiasul'onn ||━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━|[✶]|━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━|| ||━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━|[✶]|━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━|| In the midst of darkness, our minds wander a vast plain, and in the depth of our despair one consoling light liberates us from twisted temptation: Hope. ||━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━|[✶]|━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━|| Haelun’or has long since associated itself with the beauty of the astral plane, notably by adopting Silver as our most esteemed symbol of purity - its imagery akin to that of starlight. It is this symbolism, after which this event is named: ‘elannyern celiasul’onn’. The Masquerade Ball of Starlight. An evening constructed of peace, prosperity and celebration: To congratulate our blessed Mali’thill for their endless attainment through times of tribulation, The prosperity of elCihi'thilln and namely the amelioration of foreign friendships. The celebrations shall adopt the following themes: Starlight, Twilight, Midnight, Nocturnal and Ethereal. Dress associated with these themes are highly advised, but not enforced. It is to be noted all those in attendance from foreign nations must submit the following form in order to enter elCihi'thilln: Name: Race: Title: Allegiance: Magical Practice: It is with great contentment, that the Silver Council of Haelun’or, invite all Citizens of the Silver State to indulge in an evening of tranquillity. The Silver Council would also like to extend additional invitations to the following nations: The Kingdom of Balian @Shmeepicus His Royal Majesty, Alexander I, by the Grace of God, King of Balian, Count of Monteres, Viscount of Eflen and Anatis, Baron of Brucca,Valens, Malenos and Ciavola, Lord of Atrus and Monterosa, Protector of the Heartlanders and the South, etcetera and his most esteemed citizenry The Kingdom of Norland @ichigomaster98 His Royal Majesty, Odin Freysson Ruric, by the Blood of the Herald, King of Norland, Duke of Varhelm and Alisgrad, High Chieftain of the Rurikkid, Chieftain of the Freyssons and his most esteemed citizenry elTali’Bortu State of Bywater @Hearth King Cyris and his most esteemed citizenry elBortu State of Hefrumm @VerminHunter Garedyn The Green, High Prophet of the Brathmordakin, Grand Steward of Urguan, High Chief of Hefrumm, Chief of Mossborn and his most esteemed citizenry The Barrow Marches @MalchediaelVult Uriel of House Pendraic, Chieftain of the Harren'hil, Lord of the March of the Barrowlands, Protector of the Adunians, Templar of Archangel Michael, and Knight of the Realm and his most esteemed citizenry Signed, Maheral ito Haelun’or Sohaer ito Haelun’or Okarir’Mali ito Haelun’or ||━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━|[✶]|━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━|| OOC Date: Sunday 26th February Time: 3pm EST/ 8pm GMT Location: Haelun’or Amphitheatre
  19. _______________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________ It was a draining exploration, a lone soul seeking to find himself through the thick and thin of the troubles that grounded him. In the end, he did not find what he was looking for, instead found only the tree that left him bitter and alone. Forcing a remembrance of not the good times, but rather the bad. A plume of flame being the only thing left from the venture. And a bitter elf. The day was hot and humid, the rays of sunshining beaming down upon the Silver State of Haelun’or, the city of Asul’hileia. It was when the times were saturated and abundant with trials of just about anyone, one for a petty argument, another for aggravated assault. Yet an elf, freshly victim to one such trial only for standing up for the justice he believed necessary to better the city. Stripped of his role as government official, his family turning their backs upon him in his time of need. On a bench, he sat tightening his boots with a grim look scouring over his visage. Left to rapid scrutiny by other citizens and ex-family alike, he felt at a loss and filled with melancholy and a dour gait in his move set. Outside, the humid city did he set foot to journey to a long, almost forgotten place. Dressed in a dusty, old set of blue robes and a traveling tunic of red that did not at all quite fit together, yet worn still they were. Not a person batted an eye at his lack of position in the city, finding his way out the gates that were never open did he walk towards the nearest harbor, that being the ruins from a recent undead dragon attack, being Cloudbreaker. Yet he did not care to search the ruins as other bandits and rats might, he only sought a boat, which ultimately he did find. A boat for one, large enough for the cool breeze and the deep blue sea. The wood groaned at the weight of the elf stepping upon the dusted surface, beaten yet still sea-worthy. He fastened a few ropes, raised the anchor and soon was set off, angled to the Northeast of Almaris. The sea was rough, waves high enough to topple the boat at any moment, yet by some outside factor did it stay erect. The wind billowed, pushing the sail forth which in turn propelled the rigid boat the elf rode upon. Days had passed, the nights calming the waters enough for the elf to sleep, if only for an hour or two. The food that sustained him only being dried jerky and hardtack that was swelled with sea spray. In the midst of night did the pessimistic high elf attempt to catch a few winks of sleep, yet the waters were not calm for that he was in the middle of the ocean. They were calm because he was close to his destination, a guttural, grinding sound having cried out as the bottom of the ship scraped against stone and sand alike where he beached. The Elf had been startled awake by the horrific, scratchy sound. Quick, was he to raise the sails and drop the anchor so that the boat would not float away, though it was unlikely it would ride the seas anymore. Upon the edge of the boat did he press a boot, leaning forth to look out at the greenery he found himself upon, a nod of approval showed as he recognized it almost immediately, though perhaps a bit overgrown if anything. It appeared to be the Silver Isles, home to the ruins of Karinah’siol. “Ah.. My home, gone and ruined..” A grumble sounded from the scornful elf, a robust sigh huffed out as he made his way through the overgrown brush. The coos and skittering of the local wildlife appeased him, atleast for a moment, bugs having done well to bite at his form as any tropical isle might house. Yet it was still familiar to him, nostalgic in a way, like a mother tucking in a child after serving them a warm cup of milk to aid in the process. The nostalgia shattered though when the high, silver walls were shown to him. They stood tall but were addled with holes, chunks having been worn out of them due to lack of upkeep. Crumbles of marble littered the outside, many an entrance littered at the base where no doubt that nothing good lived within. His resolve strengthened, as once again, that was not his goal. Instead, it was for something else, so his boots scraped upon gravel roads as he ushered himself forth towards the city ruins. Charred ruins of buildings such as the tavern or the soldier headquarters, the Sillumir, littered either side of the street. Such being the goal of the previous ruler in an attempt to leave the city unlivable in case of outsiders taking over. A sneer, distasteful as the sight was, covered the face of the else as he trekked through the ruins, up an old set of stairs with holes or crumbles. The gates that separated the esteemed ‘thill of the older land from the lesser' were raised. Perhaps a symbol of the integration of the old city's inhabitants joining the lesser in the horrid atmosphere of Almaris, rather than in secluded isolation on the Silver Isles. Or it was simply but a gate that no longer had a purpose, condemned to rotting and gathering rust whilst idle bandits or ruin-explorers wandered through. Such thoughts filled the mali’aheral’s head as he passed through, though soon to come to a stop as he saw what he came for. His old home, where he spent most of his time. Sweat from the trek stuck to the neck of the ‘aheral as he was quick to enter the home, still standing tall and regal as can be, yet worn with time and intruders. The windows had busted in, the sills of such were littered with shattered glass, the door having been taken off at the hinges and simply missing. And so he had no door to open when he entered to find many books, unlegilbe strewn about the floors, the carpet having been ripped and torn, notes scrawled onto the wall via dagger or blade. None of which held any coherent meaning except for perhaps a love feud or otherwise between two distinct lovers. Again, he passes by, leaving it to rest, to not overturn the dusty items that did remain. Instead, the high elf made his way to the room in which most of his time had been spent, studying, conducting experiments, or otherwise. Apart from a broken mirror or a bed with a missing mattress. The only tell-tale signs of it ever even existing were the feathers that had flown from it after it had likely been shredded. And in a bout of rage, but also with purpose did he lift his boot and slam it into the floor, the loosened nails quick to unstick and sling the board up to reveal a hovel to hide items in. Quick, did he calm himself, even as the memories of the past haunted his mind. The times of strife with those who sought only his blood, and for no other reason that he would not join them. The times of sorrow when he felt at a loss on how to continue his works, the times of when he had an overly heated debate that left him ostracized and outcast, as he was now. A deep breath to calm, and another. The heated memories quickly flow away, though oh-so eager to stay. The tired, sleepless azure eyes cast themselves down into the hovel, relieved to find the sack was still there. Took to his knees as he knelt down to reach for the sack and pull it out. The tie that held it closed was withered and easily snapped away at what little force he applied. His hand fished within to open it proper so that he might get a better look. A few trinkets and memorabilia populated the sack, a few of his first letters to his initial, yet ex-beloved, and a sack of minae. “There you are…” He let out a sigh of relief as a folded yet crumpled piece of paper was pulled from the sack. The Elf flicked it open to reveal the image it held. And it was no art piece, instead it was but a simple crayon-like drawing of a stick man that wore something that appeared to be either blue robes or otherwise, and a smaller, shorter figure that wore something lilac, appearing to be a dress of sorts. The two stick figures held hands, and so the elf's fingers tightened on the piece of paper, wrinkling it ever so slightly. A somber feeling weighed down on the elf’s shoulders, a sense of regret at what could have been but never will be. Time had gone on and there was no way to change that which occurs. Time travel does not exist. In a brisk movement, the folded paper tucked away into his pocket and the sack tied with a new string. As there was just one more place to visit in mind. A scuffling of boots kicked up a bit of dust as he made way out of the house and up the ruined street, a tree or two having fallen to block his path but was easily overcome by climbing over. Up a slight incline did he find himself walking, as the Silver Isles were a mountainous set. The travel was quick to wind his voidal poisoned physique, but with frequent breaks did the high elf make it up the path that led to a simple bench at the base of a tree, old yet still showing off intricate carvings. With age, moss and rust had taken root, saddling upon the aged piece of fine metalwork. This spot gave an overview of not only the ruined city but the rest of the isle, where a small Hyspian town has since been built off in the distance. He set himself upon the bench, an eerie feeling at the empty space that weighed heavy next to him. A sorrowful silence plagued his surroundings save for a few croaks from crickets or the like as it was perhaps four hours before the roosters crow. With the lights that were still lit within the ruins and the torches from the Hyspian town, the scenery of the island still held life though nothing like before. The silence offered him too much time to himself, a flicker here.. A flutter there. He felt eyes upon him, yet he knew none were there. But there were, for it was his memories and his thoughts that plagued him, a simple shadow cast over his form, yet incorporeal. The elf shifted forward and buried his head in calloused hands to let out a small sob, only when he knew he was fully alone, and that there were no peering eyes to take such a scene and gossip upon it. There was no reason behind it, except that the sobbing soon turned to wailing and a fit of rage was to be had. A blade was snatched from its rigid sheathe, and aimed with a quick slice did the ponytail that held back golden, blonde locks get cut away only to fall to the grassy park that he populated. The elf flung the blade once the hair had been cut, and off the edge of the raised cliff did it clatter against stone, scraping upon its descent as he rose to his feet. The ilk of his rage had yet to subside, and so his eyes burned bright a mist of an azure, similar to the color of his eyes shimmering around his hands and otherwise, the aura of such pulsated with power. A guttural sound grew from his throat as tendrils of the aura collected in a ball. The bench had since been tilted over and a few meters had been given from himself to the base of the tree where so many memories had been gathered. The ball of aura flashed and was quickly replaced with a ball of blue flame that grew hotter and hotter, taking in all of the oxygen it could get to swell and grow. And grow it did, though no specific form did it take, as soon as the ball of dark blue flame form, did it blast out in the form of a flamethrower. Firstly pointed up towards the leaves to set them alight all the way down to the base, quick to char the outer layer of the tree and thoroughly set it up in flames. A crackling of flame stayed as the magi’s anger subsided, the residual effects of the evocation left upon the tree, likely to be a beacon in the dark of night upon the island as he let out a cool, silvery sigh. His hands stuck themselves into the pocket of his worn coat to ensure the folded piece of parchment was still there. A turn of his heel, did the high elven mage depart from the scene of a burning tree, still as bitter and lost as can be. For there was no finding himself in the past, as he could only be himself in the present, as bitter and cruel as the one in the present might be. There had been little to be gained from the daunting venture to the ruins except for a piece lost to him and faded memories to haunt him, but an echo of the good times and the bad. ________________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________________
  20. " Sharp words have no intrinsic ability to draw blood, though they may very well be the cause of such when met with a dull entity. Those that wield the hammer of blunt statements will inevitably meet an opponent that tests the efficacy of a lexical shield. A barbarous mind is ill accustomed to defending itself with anything but the primitive tools which it can master.“ - Malaurir Dio Astóre SOHAER ELECTION RESULT, 113 SA 10th of Snow’s Maiden, Year 114 of The Second Age Following the democratic election of elSohaer, we as Mali’thill have chosen our newest Sohaer. elSulii’ceru and elMaheral have counted and recounted the ballots. The most popular candidate was: Luthien Maeyr’onn Art by @puffables We eagerly await to see the progress that her leadership will bring to elCihi’thilln and our kin. andria il'Haelun'or y talar lar'iyulvanae karin’ento. Mali'thill iyatan'leh ay'Haelun'or! Maheral of Haelun’or Seth Calith Ernnir Elarhil Sullas Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya
  21. Maehr'Sae Hiylun'ehya Aher'Dagr: Blessed Warfare _______________________________________________________ -Sillumiran changing patrols near a statue of a young Seth Calith "Poverty comes easily to these soils, this south land where many lessers have trod. Though to us? Courage is native to these hearts. The fruit of Wisdom and Strong Law. Through use of Wisdom we keep ourselves free of Tyranny or Poverty" -Pamphilos of The Hyptos, on colonizing the south _________________________________________________________________ Preface: It is true, that to many who have come to the south have done so to escape harsh realities of the lands of the north. Old kingdoms had risen and fallen in the south, even during the time man had held it in his grasp, it was not easily tamed, for they too were picked apart by nomads and their walls lay ruined. Just as the islanders, and of so many more. Yet what separates the wheat from the chaff, that adversary, that trial to overcome? That is where LIFE is had. TRUE life. Where all is to gain. We have many privileges, but always should you seek to see them greater! Always have we embodied that spirit, but perhaps no time more than now! The Silver Soul Sings for her Motherland! For it is by our hands, our spears, our shields that we raise you, and in your embrace we are held! It has ALWAYS been true! Since even that antediluvian age when Larihei lead the first of the 'aheral to found and defend the first sacred cihi. Not shy to raise heavy blade and shield or staff and spell to take what was needed and guard once gained! Not evil or disorderly, It is an act most sacred and revered. For it is in these ages we shape the course of true eternity. After all, Eternal is our Motherland, our Motherland is Eternal. ______________________________________________________________ -Larihei of War, leading the blessed citizenry on the solemn duty, her owl, wide-gazing as they guard their sacred citystate Let us now speak upon the ways of BLESSED WARFARE! Aher'Dagr, the way of Blessed War represents a true and sacred method of battle, it is by these ethics and codes we perform so as to stand as one concise unit against all foes! Even if we are made of great individuals. After all, individually a great silvered hero may be able to stand against any foe, but in their discipline, together? None could ever best them. May they be learned by those all, even in passing do they impart the ancient lessons of our blessed society. Camaraderie - Together, stalwart. Neighbor besides neighbor, family guarding family Sacred Spirit - Pure, Unbroken, our sacred blood, our ancient ways. We have much to stand for, and more to take Bravery - Defiant, Mighty, grand of courage and hearty in thought and deed! Never bent Loyalty - Our ancient bonds are deep, and not so easily should it shatter All of these epitomized in our Blessed Warfare! Fight! So none extra may bleed our sacred blood! __________________________________________________________ -Certain Mali'thilln Hero parading after victory over a Snelven Prince 'Killing is the greatest act of Greed,' quote the BRIGHTLORD. This is true! For why would you celebrate these acts that would seemingly debase the soul? It is because, in my deed, thought, and action, I seek not to lay mere death upon my foe, but every encounter to better myself and truly become more perfect, the greater hero of my people! In these times we find ourselves in, it is more important than ever to strengthen yourself and seek to grow to be even greater! Indeed, in this time of ASCENT, where legends are made, and we grow ever-mighty, may we rejoice! For never have we strayed from our most ANCIENT TRADITIONS!!!! Since the most ancient times, the Elven Phalanx has been the premier method of war, it is through these traditions passed on through el'sillumiran and the multitudes of the bands of battle of the various elven citystates, that we can see truly what is right! To battle together, shield to shield, spikes levied against our foe is to be a force stronger than even MIGHTY scattered individuals! If a minotaur charged your line? You have a ton of spikes aimed at it and shields! If a magic user is casting spells? Throw a spear or sling! You have rows of others ready to do the same! If there is an impassable obstruction? Scatter! Reform with discipline to protect your casters and rear ranks! You can count upon heroic specialists to fill out other roles! _______________________________________________________________________________ -Least Magical Elven Phalanx _______________________________________________________________________________ Indeed, who can ever forget the tale of the Night of Four Drakes! For in that time, Haelun'or was not waging great campaign, and instead, the citizenry was made of the multitudes. Those many and varied who brought their skills as individuals to make our community brighter and wealthier! Wiser and stronger. Though, in that night of rejoicing, quickly did the alarm klaxons sound and worry take over the scene. Fiendish Drakes had flown forth to engage! Though, well-drilled and organized, Mali'thilln rallied before their Sillumiran. The two on duty served their parts well as sergeants of the populace! Defenders of the silver law! For they had drilled into the citizens, the formations of their 'aheral lines, their spears levied they did Hard Battle alongside that brave silver warrior, whilst the specialist sharpshooter, in shining mail drew his bow, and with his arrows, felled two of those invaders of the flight of drakes! The others felled by spikes of the phalanx! SO much rejoicing, as TOGETHER the strong citizenry defended themselves and their sacred motherland! Suffering no casualty, save for injury of the brave sillumir commander, and an auxiliary visitor! Indeed, shoulder to shoulder, defending your fellow citizens is the safest place to make war! -Wouldn't it be great to have a fellow hero besides you? _______________________________________________________________________________________ Listed here are descriptions of the various forces in service to the Great Silver Citystate Auxiliary Citizen Soldier Sillumiran Blessed Band _____________________________________________________________________________________ -Common is it to see men of the tribe, foreigners and expats coming to take privilege, utilizing their skills In this era, silver armies are composed of great forces! Many derived not just from the core citizenry and her colonies, but even from lands far afield! Foreigners, and ex-patriots, those who wish to find themselves at the benefit of our blessed society, Indeed, Seek out the benefits that arise when one has served as Auxiliary, as no matter if you are a dwarf, an elf, or even a stunted High-Goblin, you will earn the same great privileges and offers bestowed to even Citizen Soldiers who arise to become Sillumiran! A quart of silver, Land, and the servants to tend it! Auxiliaries who prove themselves superb in character and skill may be asked to directly enter a Sillumiran specialization should they be recommended by their comrades in the silver army to their betters! Their most common roles tend to be to serve as policemen under Sillumir captains, or to fight along with the citizenry in war. Auxiliaries who volunteer for, or perform impressive tasks are most beloved in the city! Most have come from abroad, places as far afield as the great Scydrian Steppe, who's horse archers and charioteers are greatly prized, to the expats of Starland, who return for the promise of a pure life free of the looming darkness of their claimed land. All are welcome to earn privileges, as it is a deed most blessed! ___________________________________________ -After All, This is LITERALLY us The Citizen Soldier is the common Mali'thilln! Prepped and capable! With arms provided by the state! For it is assumed that even the most common Mali'thilln in accordance to Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya has tuned their bodies and minds with drills and practice to make themselves useful even in sudden battle. More often than not the sole reason for our Mighty Citystate's successes has been a populace which has always been ready to don the Silver Helm of Battle and defend their Sacred Motherland with spear and spell! Indeed, from their ranks that magicians and other experts such as alchemists and casters have proven critical! It is around them, that many a wise Commander of Armies has built a force around! _______________________________________________________________________________________________________ -“Enact the Silver Law with an Iron Fist, our foes forever kept at bay by the authority of the Blessed Republic... Sillumiran, The Weeping Blades, it is they who have undertaken the oath to Larihei of Law, to uphold her ways and the mandates of our ancient democracies. They are members of the Citizen Soldiers who have chosen to serve, and in times of war they are known as the veteran forces. Heavily drilled and determined, for in their sacred oaths they undertake the impurity of general battle, of even being forced to harm those of sacred blood in times of dire circumstance. It is these units clad in full armor, and gleaming silver shields that serve as sergeants and vanguard, in the 'aheral phalanx and many varied roles! Starting with the most seldom seen Vihai, whom only whispers are herd of their vital deeds, to the general forces from whom the heavy ranks are drawn the legendary Jaggernoth, the 'Aheral Cataphracts, the Silver Magicians, though in their ancient roles as Guardians of The Silver Order, El'sillumiran serve as the city's guard of the blessed citizens first and foremost. Sillumiran are subsidized by the state, with their own housing, education, and silver paid in their name. Once promoted to a specialization, el'sillumiranare granted a quart of silver, land, and the servants to tend it! Which is most typically used to expand their Talonnii's holdings and status. ________________________________________________________________________________________ -A farmer has the tools of their trade, a 'Lad' has tools of their own TRULY, battle is best only when it yields substantial reward. So if it is WEALTH, and PRIVILEGE, that are best when taken by the tip of a spear, then none can be more gifted with such blessings than that very own Chosen of The Blessed Band! This is a specialized band, which in its wide and varied service has more than once been the key linchpin to securing our great republic and valiant democracy! Indeed, these are HEROS! Their tools are the shield and spear, for it is by those they take sweet wine from the vine, their wealth and bring blessings to our citystate. If one was to ask the typical citizen what is their profession, be they sillumiran or not, they may answer plainly things such as tailor, or mason, lawman, scribe... But to ask one of the Blessed Band is to get a simple reply! War! War! War! Amongst this Band of no MERE soldiers, but WARRIORS, those PICKED for this most specialized band. Hand chosen from the ranks of the mightiest sillumiran, or citizen troops, or raised up through ways of ancient sacred training, the 'Gymnos'Yallir'. They must actively practice That 'Blessed Life'. This is a state where one does not need, for he is provided for by his lands, talonnii, or estate, where one is free to display and practice their profession full time just as any other job, for indeed they must be an expert at their field. It often does not allow much room to be toiling for mere existence. Luckily, nearly all of the citizens of our blessed citystate are those birthed into means! ________________________________________________________________ A final message to those who have not forgotten ....... The Citadel beckons. Elcihi invites you home, mali'thill. Your eternal paradise awaits you. It is the duty of the immortal to live amidst their kin. Forsake the descendants and live with your fellow mali'aheral.. It is the will of Larihei. Your privileges to be vast, and succor you will find.
  22. FROM THE DIARY OF THE LAURIR FAREWELL As Issued from the An'asul estate DATE UNKNOWN "An epoch to lay the foundations of permanent progress. Rejoice! Rejoice! Rejoice! You are the chosen one, child. Blessed by Larihei’s realisation of the nature of the State and our inherited Nature, I will guide you into the future. A completed century will only be the start." - Malaurir Dimaethor Elervathar It has been days since I last wrote in this diary, and I can barely bring myself to do so now. The weight of my loss is overwhelming, and I am consumed by a feeling of emptiness and despair. I have lost everything, my home, my family, my friends and my purpose. I am alone in this world, and I cannot see a reason to go on. I spend my days wandering through the ashes of my former home, reliving the memories of the past. I remember the laughter and love that filled our home, the warmth of my family's embrace. But now, all that remains is a cold emptiness. The enemy was too strong, and I was too weak. I cannot help but feel that my people looked up to me and I failed them. The thought of rebuilding and moving on seems impossible. I have lost everything that ever mattered to me and I cannot imagine a future without them. I am plagued by thoughts of ending it all, but I cannot bring myself to act on them. I am torn between the desire to end my suffering and the guilt of leaving those behind who have suffered the same fate. I have nothing left, and the pain is too great to bear. I have been struggling to find a reason to keep going and to find a spark of hope in this dark and gloomy world. I am tired, tired of this endless cycle of grief and despair. I am tired of feeling this immense weight on my shoulders. I find myself thinking about the past, the good times, the happy moments that I shared with my loved ones. But then reality hits me, and I am reminded that they are gone and they're not coming back. I am haunted by the memories of the last time I saw them, the screams and the tears, the blood and the smoke. I am struggling to find a sense of purpose in this world without them. I am struggling to find a reason to wake up every day and to face the reality of my loss. I am struggling to find a way to move forward, to find a way to heal. But as the days pass, I realized that I needed to find a way to honor the teachings of Larihei and to continue the legacy of my Talonnii. I may have lost everything, but I will not let my memory go forgotten. I will not let my death be in vain. I will find a way to rebuild, to move forward and to make sure that their legacy lives on. My chosen successor shall be my dear nephew, Edgars An’asul. For he shall lead the talonnii into prosperity as Laurir once I am gone. Farewell my dear followers of Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya, I shall join one with Larihei. AY'LARIHEI MAEHR'SAE HIYLUN'EHYA Signed, Usamea An’asul
  23. The Silver Council of The Silver State of Haelun’or 6th of The Amber Cold, Year 110 of The Second Age Maheral: Seth Calith [RealSamler] Okarir'mali: Pamphilos Callidora Hyptos [DeepDarkSamurai] Okarir’maehr: Valazaer Calith [_Sheylo_] Okarir'hiylun: Anara Elervathar [toonerddyy] Okarir’nor: Atrus Calith [Howdy_Pardner] Ernnir: Elarhil Sullas [riorr] Tilruir’tir: Soris [WizardWhisper] Tilruir’kaliri: Elarhil Sullas [riorr] Tilruir’lenaern: Edgars An’asul [__Zuko] Tilruir’nealu: Hileia’illera [woozerly] Tilruir’tayna: Luthien Maeyr’onn [BluestBudgie] - elOKARN MAHERAL’LEH — 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 Maheral Guidance of the ways of our forefathers and ensuring the purity of our people are the sacred duties of the Maheral, for they are the most pure among all Mali’thill. The Maheral is to be addressed as Maheral. The Ernnir acts as a secretary to elMaheral. elOKARN MALI'LEH — 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐫'm𝐚𝐥𝐢 The Okarir'mali has a variety of duties in Haelun'or and is in charge of a few different functions. They run the city parlour, are responsible for leisure time activities, update Haelun’or’s noticeboard, maintain and staff public places, as well as head non-economic guilds and associations. The Okarir’mali, as with all members of the blessed Silver Council, are to be addressed as Master or Mistress [Talonnii Name] based on gender. The Tilruir’kaliri is in charge of leisure time activities in Haelun’or. The TIlruir’lenaern is in charge of the tavern in Haelun’or. elOKARN MAEHR'LEH — 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐫'm𝗮𝗲𝗵𝗿 Master of Knowledge, the Okarir’maehr manages The Eternal Library and College of the Silver State. It is their right and obligation to ensure it is properly maintained, safeguarded, and monitored. They are responsible for the flow of all knowledge in and out of the Eternal Library, and have full control over the educational operations that transpire within. The Okarir’maehr is also responsible for the recording of all state history that transpires during their service to the Silver State. The Okarir’maehr, as with all members of the blessed Silver Council, are to be addressed as Master or Mistress [Talonnii Name] based on gender. The Tilruir’nealu is in charge of teaching at The Eternal College. The Tilruir’indor is in charge of operating the library. elOKARN HIYLUN'LEH — 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐫'hiylun Master of Life, the Okarir’hiylun administrates and ensures that the excellent living standards of the Mali’thill is upheld and constantly improved. The Okarir’hiylun sees to the administration and organisational measures required for happenings of different natures, enabling all who wish to hold events of their own. The Okarir’hiylun, as with all members of the blessed Silver Council, are to be addressed as Master or Mistress [Talonnii Name] based on gender. The Tilruir’tayna is the Okarir’hiylun’s second in operations. elOKARN NOR'LEH — 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 Okarir'nor Master of Land, the Okarir’nor manages the flow and storage of resources in The Silver State, as well as maintaining the city and land in flawless condition. It is their right and obligation to house the newly arrived Mali’thill within the Silver State, to build more as necessary and to evict those that have left. They are in charge of the economy in Haelun’or, serving as administrator of the market district and oversee all internal and international trade. The Okarir’nor, as with all members of the blessed Silver Council, are to be addressed as Master or Mistress [Talonnii Name] based on gender. elOKARN TIR'LEH — 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐫't𝐢𝐫 Master of Law, the Okarir’tir manages all necessities in relation to law and order within the Silver State. This includes but is not limited to the drafting of Blessed Citizens into the Sillumiran, the arranging of Purity Tribunals as requested by the Maheral or majority vote of the Silver Council, arrests, and military supply planning. If absent the head of State takes charge. The Okarir’tir, as with all members of the blessed Silver Council, are to be addressed as Master or Mistress [Talonnii Name] based on gender. The Tilruir’tiran are the Okarir’tir’s second in command.
  24. -Average Day in Haelun'cihi right now ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Brothers, Sisters, I wish to further conversation. We exist as individuals in this time of great strife. Those who have the power to act, and further not only our impacts on the world, but the impacts upon the very nature of being. Ones mind drifts into the nature of being. For truly, if we are most blessed, and every elf a hero seeking to become ever-greater, ever-perfect, why would we seek to end what makes us strive hardest for ever greater perfection? Picture for me this. You are standing before your fellows in the Amphitheater, the comrades of your band. Over the better part of the decade you've been practicing your oration, your acting, and your epic recitation, and though you are overwhelmed with praise from the crowd, you saw 'Them' get more... What is a Mali supposed to do in such circumstance? Become more perfect! That's it! It is through this fact, that a being left unchallenged is one stagnant, progressing not. So, knowing this, and knowing your rival well, why would you ever do more than to punish them? Hear me out. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now don't get me wrong, Heroes. Just as we may be from rival City-States, great cultures of peoples most ancient but at odds, it is for this purpose eternal rivalry must be understood for the betterment of each other. The ever perfection of you and your rival tracks not just at this macro-cosmical scale, but even to us as great singular individuals. We shall not forget, lliran, that just because you are at war, especially a war of domination, one must never forget their purity of mind, thought, and body. Though I sought to stray away from such seemingly 'charged' terms as purity, what with the many newly impure coming to terms with their state, but we must also keep in mind, such a state was brought about by mainly one reason. The killing of rivals. Now, nobody said anything about killing one's enemies. Those auxillary who stand before you as foes to be bested. For in the great field of legendary combat, where myth is made, we must exert our force to overcome ALL the armor of another. But, examples of fine heroes who, defeated upon the field, were made to submit before you. Punished much, through injuries sustained, or defeat having felt, it is by right of victor to do as he pleases, but to end the feared rival, they who had inspired your own greatness beaten into a prisoner? To deny him his end on the field in service to his citystate, and himself is also a disservice to you, and the legends and myths we may all enjoy in times to come. Picture for a moment. The mighty hoplites of two great citystates, an army of valah auxillary and rowers, and ten blessed citizen hoplites. Their ship of painted sails crashes upon the shore, and they meet in the field with an army of another great citystate. Another hundred auxillary and twelve rival hoplites... The battle fierce as auxillary face one another to keep them from the phalanx as both sides of beautiful citizens, each an individual with rights, privileges, and heroes of great family battle to see themselves greatest. Shields pressed to shield, and spikes thrust. Until one gains the upperhand. You look to your brother as a spike glanced over the shield, ending him quickly. Every loss felt gravely, but the fight continues on. When one side victorious, perhaps of the result of two champions choosing to duel for victory, fine judgement leads to greater legend. The taking ransom, or a piece of panoply or a trading good may be a powerful lesson to learn, yet to end who you have before you, with no chance to bare arms in noble defense? A sight most savage. Most disappointing. After all, we are cousins. Why, but the most extreme of circumstance, do you deny yourself the competition? Don't wanna work too hard? -The Elven Phalanxes, powerful formations of each respected citystate.
  25. 6th of The Grand Harvest, Year 107 of the Second Age BLESSED CITIZENRY OF HAELUN’OR, it is that joyous time of year once more, I am talking about Krugsmas of course! In the spirit of the festivities, we will be doing an anonymous exchange of gifts. You will be given the name of another citizen to get presents for. This should be a minimum of three items but you can always include more! To partake, put a slip of paper with your name on it into the Sullas-Calith’ehya Manor mailbox, Talonnii’lin III. You will then receive one with the name of who you are giving to. Leave the presents in the gift boxes under our community decorated Krugsmas tree, which stands in the amphitheatre. Shhh, it’s a secret till the day of opening! OOC: You have 24 hours to put your name down, as that is when names will be randomised. Gifts should be in chests by 23rd December and will be switched to the receiver on 24th December. Comment on this post using the format spoilered to be entered. Haelun’or citizens only! Ernnir, Tilruir’kaliri Elarhil Sullas
×
×
  • Create New...