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To Those Still Loyal To The Void, And To Those The Manathar Abandoned.

Lizmun

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[There was only a handful of the notices, all scrawled over decent parchment in thick charcoal writing. All of them started the same way, with three eyes peering right at the reader. They could be easily found in the sewers, and only a handful floated around on the surface, perhaps found crumpled up or partially ruined in a puddle of rainwater.]
Three-eyed_Seal.png

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Long have Void worshipers lurked in the shadows, hidden away from the world, to be killed for their heresy and then forgotten. Their heretical efforts are fruitless and in vain, gods quiet and unresponsive. Arken callous and uncaring.

To those still loyal to the Void: your gods are dead. The gods of old, the imperfect figures of godhood, are silent and will no longer answer your prayers. The Arken have lost interest in Void worshipers. Instead, now they turn to the Manathar to use as their playthings, and the Arken have turned these new elves from the Void entirely. In the absence of Arken and godhoods, a new god of the Void has made itself known, one that will answer prayers and not abandoned its people. To the void worshipers of this holy city - discard your false figures and come forth to be seen by the new Void god, Maraaq'.

To the Kathar the Manathar abandoned: Your sovereign has been slain, turned instead into a mistress who hates your people and your empire. We open our arms to you. You will be fed, protected, sheltered. We will help you better than your false sovereign ever has. Abandon the Manathar as they have abandoned you, denounce their false Arken god and accept Marraq's new guidance. Come to us, and we will take you in.

[There was a signature, but the runes it was written in were eldritch and alien. Unreadable.]
 
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Lazzul'ei Daevaar knelt down to collect the crumbled parchment; a random act of curiousity. The Sihn-Fallar's facial expressions grew to agitation, then anger, before, strangely enough, a great grin grew across her face;"<Sihn> There's cleaning up to do yet!" She released a thunderous laugh,"<Sihn> Looks like we've got a new quarry." The exceptionally short Sihndar stuffed the paper into her satchel, before making it off back home, hand firmly rested on her Khoptar hilt.
 
Some Kathar thought, "Maraaq... this has to be false if he said void gods and Arken has gone silent."
 
Valarosta stood at the notice with a blank expression, reading the parchment time and time again. With a low hum that caught in her throat, the newly turned Manathar pulled free a piece of charcoal from the confines of her pocket, wrapped in a piece of parchment. The pale woman unraveled the page, turning it over to the clean side before scribbling across the sheet.

We respect our Mentor and commit ourselves not to idolatry or worship other than ourselves.
We control and empower ourselves, wrestle with our own destiny, unrestrained by others.


Salvation will not be found in the Void.
Griffin does not abandon you, but offers you
a new opportunity, a future.
Seize your own destiny, do not beg like dogs for it to be gifted to you.
Enslavement is no longer an option.
Content with her message, the Cardinal set the notice alongside the original post, driving nails through each corner to ensure it sticks. With a roll of her shoulders, she turned back to the rest of the Gilded Templar, gesturing over her shoulder with a wry smile.
"We have our work cut out for us already."
@Havsbris_ @Katiesc @HereticTakao @KrakenLord01 @PapidaCarrot @Hierophant_ @Icaruscien @Vegemiite
 
Merath'strasza, once Vael'straza glanced over the paper. Later that evening she would write up a note to be pasted alongside it.

"For so long we have suffered. For years, decades, centuries we have suffered. But how long until we realize it was not for our skin, nor our pride. Why are you so blind to see that the ones we hurt are out own? The void has been silent upon our torture when we worshiped it. What will this god bring you in the end?
What warmth will it gift your soul. Free yourselves from the bonds of an endless, painful cycle. Believe in yourself and no other to give you the strength to defeat all odds. For years, the suffering have writhed, and to those who have felt abandoned by us, I promise you there were ones who tried with all their heart to help you free yourself.
The kathar were once some of our people. That we may never forget, but we cannot help those who will not help themselves. The dread will rot away everything you love in the end, and you will be helpless to stop it if you do not act with haste. The horror that warms you soul now, will leave you cold in your grave. For thousands of years though there have been pauses and halts in the void's influence, yet it always slithers from the cracks like broken tendrils. Even when I was a kathar, even as devote of a priestess as I was, I always considered the well being of my fellow people. Since my change, I've tried to help others.

We never abandoned you. We have no right to refuse those who wish to convert to convert. Break the chains, or continue to suffer.
signature5d329d239244f.webp

@CthulhuPulu
 
A mere Kathar that has traveled into old town, holding a rope leash that had a goat in the end of it. She looked over the paper with a nod. Even if she couldn't read it she just nodded. Placing her hand against the paper a red painted hand would be imprinted on it. With that she walked off.
 
An Altalar looked down at the parchment before her...Frowning slightly before looking up from it, thinking about what it said, speaking"It's making itself known....Now how will people react?"She looked to the distance, going to walk off.
A Kathar would be standing next to someone named Arathorn as they read over the parchment. He would silently read it before craning his head to Arathron,"What even is this Maraaq, is that some great god I should know about?"He asked in mocking, clearly not taking the parchment serious one bit.
@Magivore
 
Some Crimson Witch somewhere picked up the note reading it then thinking to herself "Becoming a Manathar seems like a more viable option everyday.." she sighed before continuing onward
 
The Isldar woman simply sighed... "Oh by Frisit.." shaking her head in sadness. "This is only going to misguide people I do fear.." Rosana let the paper slip from her hands as it blew away into the breeze.

Faerith simply burned the paper. "False prophecies."

Athena read it - and a troubled expression came on her face, however no comment was made upon it as she walked through some dreary rain.