spqrSancus

OOC Application Minecraft Name: spqrSancus Discord: sancus.hau#9556 IC Application Name: Avern'athri Andria Race: Mali'aheral Age: Don't quite know anymore, I'll be honest. Time stops having meaning after a certain age. Previous Martial Experience: A lot, though I don't much like speaking of it. I've had a bit of experience in most martial fields, though that was all quite a long time ago. I've been rank-and-file, had a fair amount of time as a CO at one point, though I eventually resigned from that position, and I've more than my fair share of experience conducting guerilla warfare. However, I am best suited as a field medic, and it is also the reason I find myself applying, as multiple members of elVirarim have expressed to me that this may be of use going forwards due to an unfortunate lack of dedicated medics in your ranks. I would, however, note that, despite my previous combat experience, I recently lost an eye and haven't engaged in warfare for at least a century, if not more. So it's likely I will need to be re-trained. Aspects' blessings.

Application Name: Synalli Race: Mali'ame Age: 52 Occupation: Huntress Experience: None, I guess. Proficiencies (Archery, etc.): Archery, ambushes, tracking Place of Current Residence: N/A OOC: Username: spqrSancus Nexus Profession+Proficiency: Proficient Woodworker, Adequate Chef, Leatherworker, Lumberjack, and Farmer, Fair Fisher, Apprentice Alchemist, Promising everything else. Timezone: EST Do you have Teamspeak?: (Y/N) No, but I can get it if required.

((Might want to pin this, btw, for new welves and elves who move here. Especially since it's not linked in the mega-thread. It's sorta important, particularly the void mage laws and interbreeding laws.))

What are tomes of power, first off?

And so too fell Asul, in a strange way and form. Aelthus' death, one whom had treated him like a brother, one whom invited him into his new family's ranks, had fallen so soon. "You fool... I should have done more. I knew that you couldn't live without her. I should have argued with the chieftain some more."

And so the hunt began. The high elf rushed along the savanna plains, arbalest in hand. He searched high and low for suitable prey, and, after a few hours of searching, he found one. The lion in question was male, possibly a few years into adult-hood. This one lived a nomadic lifestyle, far and away from those which came to reside in their tribe-like prides. In hunting this one, he would not be condemning an entire line of lions, nor would he be chased down by the other members of its family unit. The elf checked the distance, lining up the sights on his arbalest. He squints, closes one eyes, gauges wind direction and speed. He thinks for a moment, reflects on the meaning of this life. It seems almost terrible to take the life of such a majestic creature as this, but alas, there had been great fortune these past few years. Much cause to celebrate. And a path, a dream, to follow. Death is a part of the Cycle. This, he knew. And so he loads his crossbow, slamming a bolt into place as he perches atop the branches of one of the acacias which line the hot and grassy plain. "Your sacrifice will feed us, our bellies, our dreams, our hopes, and the reclamation of mali history and culture... For this, llir, forgive me. May Cernunnos bless my Hunt." He winds the winch, drawing back the bowstring. He lines the sight up again, checks once more for wind speed, direction, adjusting his weapon's course. He breathes in, he breathes out. The lion settles into the shade of a tree, some 40 meters away... He breathes in again... The lion shakes its mane. And he breathes out. The lion quietly settles itself into the ground. And Asul pulls the trigger, and the bolt goes flying forth. Some found glory in the Hunt. But Asul hunted for sustenance, and for a dream he felt obliged to follow. There was no great battle, no adrenaline coursing through his veins. There wasn't so much time for even a roar. The high elf hefted the crossbow onto his shoulder, observing his handiwork. 40 meters away, the animal lay, a steel-headed bolt embedded in its eye. "... Ahernan, Cernunnos. Blessed be the Hunt." And so he claimed his trophy, all the Lion's head, and wore it's hides. And wearing those hides, he returned home, to the Seed of the Aureon. And there, at their manor, where he lay the corpse, he proclaimed to them all: "We will feast tonight, lliran. Let naught go to waste. The bones and the organs will be offered to the Aspects tonight."

((Woops lol yeah))

Before you is an elf. A high elf, by the looks of it. He's sitting in the tavern, scribbling away into a scroll. Peering over him, one might note the format, then the title - an essay being made. Upon finishing, he promptly stands and heads off to find his mentor, the Melody Druid Wendy.

Asul'athri, upon hearing the rumours, rushes over to the Aureon manor to check up on both Ayda and Leo.

Asul'athri Parir'taliyu, having come to the feast without knowing that there were plans for an engagement, had felt highly unprepared upon it's announcement. He frantically searched his person for a range of engagement gifts, as his kind were wont to give upon such an announcement. Settling upon a sparkling emerald necklace he had made due to the sheer excess of the jewels he had in his profession, and a bluesteel falcata he had just recently forged, he quickly made his way up to the couple to grant them their stunning gifts before he had to leave. Both accepted quite graciously, marvelling at the beauty of the creations the former mali'thilln had made and was now giving to them in celebration of the joyous engagement. As he quickly bade farewell and left, he bade them a fair many offspring and a happy marriage, leaving Ayda somewhat flustered at the insinuations. It seemed, that even in these dark times, the bright ones would shine brighter still. If only it might last. ((Description of the Sword - At Leo's Bequest))

Asul, having met with Katar on the way to the manor, downs an entire flask full of cheap, highly alcoholic wine. He stumbles his way to Linandria's tavern, in a drunken stupor, mourning for the sake of his friend. "I wish I knew how to pray..." He tries to drink himself silly, but seeing as the tavern is unmanned, he only manages to finish off a last few stray drops of wine.