The Obsidian Tower is nothing, if not a hub of for those that seek political power. A beacon for Dhe’nar that have lost ties with our homelands, to claim expertise and authority of our people through a small little tower in the middle of the wilds that no one could find, unless you were looking for it.
For many years in recent history, that’s what it became; a group of isolated dark elves, calling themselves Dhe’nar – that hardly knew the culture, couldn’t speak the language, nor even teach it. Those that came for interaction, wanted to learn and to engage – were excluded, forgotten or decided that it was not what they were promised and found family elsewhere.
I wanted to change that. I wanted to see new blood in the fold – that knew what we were and where we came from. I wanted to teach that we are family and unified and that our focus should not be about feeling self-important or promoting hate to maintain common goals. Rather I wanted to have the satisfaction of being a part of something grander. I wanted to instill honor and trust, to remedy decades worth of manipulations and draw us back out of the aether to which the Tower had all but vanished.
Our kin in Sharath still feel this sharply and are adamant about restricting political ambition. The scars of the Conflageration are saved as a constant reminder in our homelands. We will never ascend so long as we have self-serving goals.
The reminders are absent as are consequences so far to the north – and it seems that our people, in their taint from the basalt pillars of Rhoska-Tor return to the base ambitions that led Korthyr to mock Noi’sho’rah in the Beginning.
We lack discipline and consequence and without either, it becomes evident how our kin simply becomes more and more like our rivaled cousins the Faendryl, in ambitions of minor worldly authority.
Change is hard, even if it is for the better. And it is here the Tower stands – potentially and by popular, local demand – returning to the fade.
