Doron Amar Role-Play

[vetinari]

*A rag-tag group arrives at the edge of Doran Amar. A large half-orc, who stays well back from the rangers guarding the entrance; the one known as the Nroc the Emeral Invoker; the merchant Delphinn Veil; and Alison Caunwaithon, wife of Aearion. Delphinn and Alison approach the rangers and leave a message with them. They say that it is urgent that it is given to the Councilors*

((PM Sent to Vanira - If anyone else is a councilor, I will copy you, just let me know))

[Snarfy]

A slender elf in a hooded black cloak slips out of the shadows beside the rangers, longbow in hand. He eyes the group for a long moment then turns to the woman and nods politely, addressing her in a civil tone, "Vanira has been rather pre-occupied with the paperwork dragon as of late. You are welcome to enter and seek out Rhys if you wish." The elf looks over to the two men and the half-orc again, "Your companions will have to wait for you here however." he adds a little tersely, then whispers something brief to the rangers before slipping back into the shadows.

// sorry, didn't even notice this til now. Better if you PM Rhys.

[Coreska]

In the dead of night, Baelather Konian was seen gently limping his way into the Doron Amar. Gently nodding to any rangers he passed by near the gate. Pulling back his hood a tuft of his hair, on the left side was missing. Not so coincidentally there was a visible scar on the matching side of his face. Though only someone actively using their infra-vision would notice how severe it actually looked. Even then, it had apparently healed. Finally having had hobbled to his tent, he plopped down into it and let out a cough. Though otherwise, it was then quiet.

[Maverick 40]

Laisren emerges from the giants keep and out into the what little sunlight pervades the cloud peaks. He slowly drags the body of his defeated foe in his magically silent cloak. It is a desperate situation moving through a throng of frost giants. They are on heightened alert due to their latest leader dying violently, and they even would bring out the drake to search for the assassin. Laisren keeps thinking to himself that this is to important to give up now.

When he finally reaches the safety of the pass, he let's go the body and begins to concentrate. "Anyone who might hear this, tis a sending from Laisren of Doron, I am in need of assistance. I have killed yet another Dhaerow south of Nashkel, within the Frost Giant keep. I struggle to drag his body back to our kin for questioning, but will not leave this opportunity to question this filth behind. Please respond.", he states with all his will directed north to his home Doron Amar.

[Stonebar]

A link to an event yesterday. And the attempt to bring a proper and honorable burial at long last to four dead Dwarves, and Two dead Elves. Only their bones are thats left, and one can only hope to id them and give some level of peace to their family.

The short of it.
http://bgtscc.net/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=17615&start=120

The full story
http://bgtscc.net/viewtopic.php?f=20&t=24011

Was told a second part of the event involving the bones will likely be done in or near Doron Amar on Monday night EST.

[Darksider_war]

Having heard of the finding, Luthien shuddered a bit. Performing funerals wasn't really her favourite activity, but as a speaker of Hanali, and Angharradh to an extent, it was one of her many duties. She hastily wrote a letter, sealing it with her signet ring - representing a swan with wings stretched open - taking it then at elves back at Doron Amar.

"Dear Brothers and Sisters, rumor of the finding have reached my person as well. With this letter I formally offer you my services for administering our own fallen kin the Last Rites. Should there be a priest available, I formally ask you to let me participate at the funeral. Please let me know the answer by leaving a letter at the friendly arms inn.

Sincerely Yours,
Luthien of House Aelorothi, priestess of Lady Goldheart"

Another three letters reach the Friendly Arms Inn, meant for the Dwarves Revenark and Shield, and the half-elf Strifire

"Valliant adventurers, words of your finding have reached my ears as well. Allow me to express my condolences for the death of two of your fellow kinsmen, auguring them to find at long last peace in the Banquet Halls of you All-father. For the bones of my own fallen kin, I would be glad to perform the Last Rites, in order to secure their souls the right place they deserve, at the right side of the Seldarine in the Realm of Arvandor. If allowed to, I will be waiting for you at Doron Amar as soon as possible. You can almost always find me at the Friendly Arms Inn.

Sincerely Yours,
Luthien of House Aelorothi, priestess of Hanali Celanil.

[beneviolent]

Elethineth ran forward to the bridge. "I hope I'm not too late" she gasped in Elven not even slowing as she ran across the bridge. The rangers of Evereska waved her onward. She raced up and around the hill crossing the second bridge without hearing the roar of the waterfall.

At the temple door, still puffing hard, she unbuckled her armor. It was spotted with drops of blood, reminders of her direct path across the Woods of the Sharp Teeth.. She lay her pack and shield down next to the doorway allowing her breathing to slow.

She pulled the temple door open and entered.

[Darksider_war]

"I could be unable to perform the funeral, Luthien. Could you please perform it in my place, If for some reason I won't be present?"
"Of course, Elethineth. I will take your place, though I am the least suited for this task. Sehanine be with you in your meditations."

And so did the sun elf prepare herself for the funeral. No eating, no drinking from dusk to dawn, such was the preparation. At the end of it, a bath inside a pool of blessed water, so that the priest's soul would be completely pure and fit for the task of leading the dead's spirits back to their rightful place. She dressed up in robes of the purest milky-white silk, then she entered Doron Amar's chapel, giving dispositions for the funeral. A bard was almost mandatory, in order to let the dead hear the song of their still living kin, leading them back to Arvanaith. Leonia would have been perfect for the task.

Luthien placed an altar right at the end of the stairs leading to Rhys' tower. Unfortunately, the Chapel was too small for all the citizens to fit in. Strangely, there were even dwarves attending the funeral, and even a priest of the Morndinsamman. That show of closeness gave Luthien a small, but important, modicum of happyness. Luthien breathed deep before addressing to the small crowd.

"Dear Brothers and Sisters, dear Dwarven friends, tonight we are here united to say goodbye to these proud members of the Seldarine who left this world. Be not sad, because now they lie at the right side of our Gods, in a place where happyness, beauty, and peace reign.

Our greatest thanks go to the brave adventurers who ventured deep into the darkness, in order to retrieve the mortal coils of our brothers, and allow us to give them a proper funeral.

Their deaths have ennobled all of us who still remain in the world of the living, because in dying at the side of our dwarven friends, they have reminded us of the friendship that bounded our races together in the past, that still bind our races together in these troubled times, and that surely shall bind our races in the future.

We hereby guide the souls of our kin back to Arvandor, with a serene heart, for in the end of life, there is triumph over death, and each and every blossom who whiters holds the solemn promise of a fruit, a new beginning.

We shall never forget them, because while a person may die, he survives if his memory survives in the spirits, minds and hearts of those who remain in the world of the living. And this, lies the secret of immortality."

The elven priestess then sprinkled the bodies with holy water, then raised her palms to the midnight moon, beginning to chant.

"Though their flash may have failed, their souls shall endure. Evermore.
Though they may have left this world, their souls shall find their right place at the Seldarine's side. Evermore.
Though they may have left us, their memory shall endure in our beings. Evermore.
Though they may have died in violence, they now shall rest for all the eternity in peace and tranquility. Evermore."

At the chant's end, Luthien cast a light spell upon a baton, stepping down the stairs, and taking the lead of the procession. All the other elves picked up the bones with the utmost respect, while the priestess motioned Leonia to start singing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EAANKFPchtA

"Let this light into the darkness guide their souls back to Arvandor. May this chant remember them that we have not forgot their existence, and accompany them to the peace and love they rightly deserve, at our creator's side."

The funereal procession followed the priestess' light and the bard's song into the woods, where the two bodies were buried with the utmost respect.

"Their souls now rest in Arvandor, in peace. Their bodies have been returned to the Earth that spawned them. So, the circle of life has been completed once again."

Luthien turned to the crowd, stumbling a bit. The funeral had really drained her of much of her strength.

"I thank all of you for attending this procession, and I hope its significance is not lost. Go with the Seldarine's blessings, brothers and sisters. Go with their love. Go in peace."

While the crowd disperded, Luthien stared at the two tombs for a brief moment, shedding a tear, before leaving. Those two elves were resting at the Seldarine's side. It was not appropriate to disturb their rest.

[Ivan38Rus]

A young human male, with a content ponderous expression, known as Jero, to some (...maybe), approached Doron Amar bridge, as he had done so many times before. His arms rose in greeting showing that he bears no ill intent when he approached the guards. He enquired whether they saw or heard from Leonia Nightsong explaining that she has not returned 'home' this night. Upon hearing a negative answer, he nodded politely and asked to pass a note to the elf named Sjinn, an unpleasant suspicion sparkled in his mind, as it often has, whenever he thought about Leonia's friends. He quickly dismissed it and smiled politely to the guard, wished them a peaceful watch and left Doron Amar's premises.

Later that day he could be seen passing through Gullykin, fully armed, headed towards Durlag's Tower at a determined steady pace, holding his sharp blade at ready.

((Unavailable In Game till next weekend, probably. Forum RP only))

[Snarfy]

A slender young elf lopes down the path towards Doron Amar with a lacksadaisical stride. Sjinn casts a rather pensive glance at the two rangers as he crosses the bridge and, having missed the last two elven meetings, mutters to himself as he is passed the note. He starts to turn away from the rangers as he unfolds the note then freezes in midstep as he reads it, his head snapping back towards the guards. "When was this delivered?", the young elf asks sharply, his face contorted in an expression that lies somewhere between concern and frustration. Upon hearing the rangers response he sighs heavily and clenches his fist around the crumpled note, then takes up a brisk pace back towards the forest and Gullykin beyond.


/// Also busy this week, will have little to no time IG.

[Deathgrowl]

Laitae arrives at the bridge of Doron Amar and nods to the rangers, before handing them a letter addressed to Laisren.

//PM Sent.

[Snarfy]

A black hooded and cloaked elf weaves his way down the paths of Doron Amar late this night. His midnight blue tunic and cloak are burnt and torn in places and his shoulders are slumped. He pauses at the rangers by the entrance and whispers with a note of audible relief, "Leonia is safe."

The young elf keeps his head bowed and averts his eyes from others, never stopping to speak to anyone as he moves through the settlement. Those few who could catch a glimpse of his face under his hood might notice the far away, and almost haunted, expression he wears. He slowly makes his way across the bridge that spans the falls and wearily glides down towards the boat mooring on the far side of the river. Glancing around once, perhaps to make sure that no-one is watching or following, he slumps down and rests back against one of the rocks lining the river, slowly pulling his knees up to his chest. He peers about warily one last time, then encircles his raised knees with his arms and lowers his head between his legs. The faintest whisper of a sob can be heard from the young elf over the soft murmer of the nearby water and his gently heaving shoulders are lost in the deepening shadows of the night.

[Snarfy]

A youthful looking blue haired elf rests on the bench that overlooks the waterfall in Doron Amar. He casually smooths out the folds of his grey tunic as he sits, his black hooded cloak can be seen draped over the back of the bench behind him. The normally reclusive elf gazes off towards the tumbling waters with a quiet contemplative expression and can, perhaps uncharacteristically, even be seen to offer an occasional nod and small smile to the odd passerby. His slender hands, laying folded in his lap, betray the only hint of motion from the otherise still elf as he relaxes, his left hand idly turning something on his right index finger. He glances down to his hands every now and then, and when he lifts his head from peering at them the faintest of smiles can be seen on his lips.

[gjallahorn]

A lone slender figure shuffles slowly though the woods towards Doron Amar.

At closer inspection the hood and cloak wearing figure can be identified as a male sun elf.
His is a slender face with clearly visible cheekbones, the skin seems pulled paper-thin over the bones...streams of silver-colored locks blend in with the otherwise red-grey hair.

His grey cloak is torn and dirty at the ends, tiny flakes of salt scatered over its shoulders..a tell-tale sign of many miles travled both on land and sea.

His white clothes under the cloak are simple, elegant and stand in contrast to the sturdy, worn boots, and the slender long blade hanging from the belt.

Placed neetly in small holders in the belt several polished lenghts of wood, ivory and bone can be seen...wands aranged with carefull consideration it seems.

Around the sun-elf walking along with a steady pace while leaning on a grey staff of wood, an aroma of herbs, sulfur, brimstone, bat-guano and many many other things seems to linger.
Under the hood, rimmed with elven runes around the edge, a pair of emerald green eyes glow bright and intense...but allso with a somewhat ever-amused glimt in them

He stops for a spell just of the bridge and arches his back with a low groan and grumble..then regards the two guards and inclines his head in greeting as he proceeds with a stern but friendly face over the bridge into Doron Amar.

A low mumble can be heard as the old sun-elf walks past the guards while offering a smile with a glimt in the green eyes.

"Let us see what these younglings have done with that glade of theirs..*low chuckle*

[BlueHero45]

*Rhys can be seen Giveing another lecture on Beholder to one of the children in Doron Amar. As the child continues to walk away from Rhys, the wizard follows makeing sure every word is heard. *

"Did you know Beholders are asexual? They give birth just once in there lifetime... "