Doron Amar Role-Play

[Lux]

They're joined by a fourth, one with long, earthen hair and eyes so dark they appear black. She wears a latent smile they would all be familiar with, the one she shares with those whose company she enjoys. Unusually for her, rather than stand she takes a seat - no, lies down! - on the couch, hands behind her head, ankles crossed elevated on one armrest.

"The grass outside got too damp from the rain, and I heard your voices inside.
. . . Politics? Much too serious for my tastes - I'll leave all that to you."

As the day wears on, however, and no doubt after repeated urgings, she does reluctantly concede to read the draft they work on. With a sigh, even two, at its length (and the drudgery she is forced to endure), she fulfils her promise. Beyond the question she handed it back with she stayed out of the project, seeming content to just spend time in their presence.

[Cinta]

Syndreth picks up the bottle of Wyvern whiskey and pointedly puts it aside to create more space on the table. For a time, she's just observing the two teasing with a little tired, but warm smile. Then at the serious question actually having to do something with the topic at hand, her eyes glint up with a measure of excitement, as she leans forward on the table, addressing the one with the wintery blue eyes.
"Indeed, it is just as you said! I wouldn't exclude appointing new Councilors later either, but what they would need from the start are "substitutes", whose training should start from day one. This is how I imagined it: ... " so she goes into further explanation.

With Aravae arriving, she's greeted with a smirk, Syndreth's seemingly gotten used to her lying around. The draft was passed over however, not failing to account her for her previous promise.

[Hydros]

The Warden could be seen moving through the village, leaving notices on boards, and attaching a new wood slab to the Law board outside of the main gate. The new law would reflect the following notices

"Upon unanimous agreement of the Warden and Advisors, members of the Whitewood Vanguard are henceforth banned from entering Doron Amar. This is a reflection of the many crimes of their various members, and Doron Amars refusal to accept such people into our home."

[Oarthias]

The moon elf sees the notice ... and grits her teeth. "Being that a few are members here... and against the current leadership... figures."

[Cinta]

Havint spent the day locked up in a room inside the Jest, the sunelf scout leaves the building only when the night is drawing near. Walking down from the hill along the crystal clear watered river, she's most likely stopped by the rangers stationed at the gate, those drawing her attention to the new ruling posted by the Warden. Surprise first, then disbelief, as she reads through the lines, her jaw stiffens then while turning her head back towards the village. Her golden gaze turns darker, looking at the silhouettes of the largest buildings in the distance.
"I see." her eyes burn with repressed emotions when glancing back to the ranger.
"Curious though... It was only a few days ago - you may remember - when we were standing here, at this very spot - Vanira, Aravae, Atria and Lylan - and here I told them I was in the ranks of the Vanguard.
Makes one wonder...." her mouth painfully twiches
"But let me terminate the root of the opposition..." With that, she reaches up to her neck, and starts to unfold the straps of the dark colored leathers of her chestpiece. From below the leathers, a fine medallion is recovered, on it's masterfully carved surface, a beautifully designed tree in front of a crescent moon. The symbol of the Whitewood Vanguard.
Chin cocked up a little, she levels her gaze with that of the ranger's.
"Here, under the watchful eye of Sehanine Moonbow, I, the wielder of the Songblade, from this moment onward, renounce my membership to the Vanguard, for the sole reason to be able to continue working on the betterment of Doron Amar."
With that, the medallion is held up to the ranger to take. Hanging on a delicate chain, the moonlight gently twinkles on it's metallic surface.

Hidden: show

((( Requesting DM assistance on the ranger's actions )))

[Oarthias]

The elf stepped out from the covered overlook, eyes of winter blue taking in Rhy's tower, the children running around on the cobblestone, the place of worship.. to gods and goddesses she still couldn't quite understand. These gods... they had taken so much from her... still took... and yet.. the moonlight had spoken to her... called her daughter... to be at peace.. that she was loved. Loved? No, she thinks not. No, gods were cruel. We are nothing to them. Save for perhaps a few that were truly worthy to be touched. Aaron.. Feleron.. Alyssia... and maybe.. maybe they were not truly all that blessed... just... pieces on the god's lanceboard to be used against their own opponents. Feleron being used so cruelly as he was now. No... no, just god would put his chosen through what he did now.

This.... all of this... it.. it is all too much. She made her way to the memorial, a place she had often come to talk to the spirit of an old friend... Sywyn. She had come to think of him as family during their time together. She taught him everything she knew. He had made her proud; he was to be the legacy she would leave behind as the rest of the realm stayed oblivious of all she had done. Once more though, fate had been cruel. She pulled out the flask of apple cider she only carried while she came home, to Doron Amar. Home... or at least it had been. She took a long sip, her nose wrinkling at it's taste, then poured out the rest of the contents in her salute and farewell to him. The flask tucked away, she moved her way out of the village. Eyes of wintery blue, taking in the details of it all one.. last... time.

She glanced back and down towards her brother on the overlook. He wished her gone and out of his life... gods save him.. because .. I can't. He needs the Village.. and what can be found here at its heart. So you may have it, my young, foolish, and stubborn brother.

All of this, went against every ounce of her being. It had been dhaerow that had taken her soul bounded and tormented him for tendays... she had felt all of it along with him till his soul had been torn from her own. Only a small fraction had remained with her and a piece of her own soul had been ripped apart from her own, gone. And yet... she had found herself here and had fought and moved pieces on the lanceboard to ensure her brother's safety as best as he could... watching him and his reckless passion tossing away most of what she managed to do in order to protect him over and over again. She had lost respect, friends, and in the end.. she now lost her brother due to his selfishness.

Her normal grace and posture, gone, broken.... defeated. The war scuffed badge at her belt, dropped behind her as she leaves. She felt every one of those five centuries of her life weighing down upon her... and there .. there was just... nothing left to give.

She swallowed hard, inclining her head to those rangers still there watching over the village. Soldiers that she had served with and commanded through battles and wars. The tears, were kept in check, even when she heard the gates closed behind her. The sound of the guards, wishing her a pleasant eve and the Seldarine's blessings upon her till they met next, fell deaf on her pointed ears.

The elf wandered aimlessly into the forest... feet that no longer held the fragment of his soul .. they no longer walked her to a place of refuge he thought would comfort her, the voice of her beloved... silent. All guidance normally given in these moments... gone. The voice of reason and comfort... gone. She paused, unsure of where she was exactly as she glanced about. She'd figure that out later.

Maybe.

No eyes in the shadows... she reached into the pouch at her hip, her hand emerged grasping the glowing gem, a gem filled with dancing moonlight.. given as a token to remember the chosen of the goddess... of a miracle of sorts that happened before her very eyes. A gem, she threw now as hard as she could away from her. The moonlit gem flew through the air... only to ricochet off a tree and bounce back landing there at her feet.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

Eyes of winter blue stared at the gem till her knees buckled... and as she fell a scream ripped through her. It was the scream of a soul that was drowning, too overwhelmed to breathe, one that had lost too much, who had lost family... friends... her connection to the only place she had once felt at home. it had been a connection that had helped her heal and to find herself again... and connect her to the people. Gone was the hope of ever understanding the gods, a her soul at its breaking point, tired.. wishing to be released... begging to free her from all of this... to have the gods just reach down and allow her to fade... to just let this be over. What was the purpose of all of this madness and pain? The elf screamed till she had no voice left.

Slowly...

Silently...

The small moon elf got back up to her feet and reached down to brush off her knees. The moonlight danced in the gem, taunting her? Trying to comfort her? She knew not. The elf straightened out and defiantly stared at the gem, turned, and walked away back to the Order's Keep. If the moonlight really thought her a daughter well then... the gem would find it's way back to her in some unexpected way.

[Mergandevin]

The elf landed silently and in perfect balance below the ancient oak he was using as a watchpost just moments ago. Under the wide hood that matched in color the clear midnight skies, his eyes peered about, ever watchful of the surroundings.

He didn't see much movement since the last few tendays he spent in the forest, observing. Orcs and other beasts he preyed upon until moving on, deeper into the forest, the woods growing silent around him. Indeed, it has been several days now since he even met anyone.

Apart from that group of his kin with the unicorn...

The thought gave him a brief sensation of discomfort. A few winters ago he would not have been so careless in his eavesdropping. He should have known that getting too close could alarm the magical creature.

Barely more than a silent shadow, the elf made his way carefully up the ridge, pausing for a moment in his low crouch with his back to a large black willow, as his icy gaze swept over the shadows of the valley below. Finally, he chose a more concealed approach along the ridge, and so following the treeline he descended, letting his thoughts wander freely for a moment more.

Intrigued? Restless? Desperate? He found himself wondering in silent self-reflection, in search for a description that would best fit his current mindset. A fledging moment of honesty that was short-lived, as he dismissed the thoughts with a shake of his head, pressing on.

Down he came in the small valley, his senses focused on the environment and the possible encounters ahead. Instinctively, he circled to the other side, keeping upwind, sneaking his way to the familiar gnarled oak. Smoothly and silently, he was up among the branches, waiting, watching.

The forest was quiet, with the trees' creak a mournful lament to the light wind's rhythm. Concealed and making himself in relative comfort in the crown of the tree,the silver haired elf pulled his hood deeper, welcoming the restfulness of his reverie.

* * *

He woke to a scream.

Blades already unsheathed and held at the ready, he pushed himself to a crouch within the blink of an eye, a prowling hunter ready to pounce. Yet it was for nothing, as the woods nearby remained peaceful. Carried by the wind, the sound came from far away.

His stance eased and he listened thoughtfully, recreating the sound in his ears. It will be some time before he could get close, if he decided to care enough...

Down among the branches the prowling elf descended gracefully, already on his way towards the source of the sound.

Restless, he decided.

[InsomnesCanis]

Hammer 27, 1358DR


After being gone for just three short days, and clueless about what happened in her absence. Lylan'Synor returns to the village, playing a soft tune on her lute.
Coming across the last update to the village rules, her fingers stop strumming. Quickly understanding the implications of that message; a deep frown takes her.
Emerald-colored eyes drop to the ground and close shut, following wilting ear tops. Blonde head slumped down, tilting a dark shadow under a long golden canopy of hair.
A long breath is drawn before the Sun Elf grabs hold of the golden heart she always wears around her neck and unclasped it.
Two hands clutch around the heart made of gold, bringing it close to her chest.
With a saddened voice, touched by the calm defiance of hope; The Elf makes a wish from the bottom of her heart.

"Hanali Celanil, the Winsome Rose. True ruler of my heart. Please pay heed to my prayer.
It is a wish of deep love and worries for my kin.
This area has taken many and more from a lot of us and gives us little and less for confidence, or comfort in return.
Grace us the wisdom of your teachings.
Let us find the roots of love as one people, and nourish them to their fullest bloom.
Show us your light to guide us away from the darkness that tries to separate us.
Cleanse those tainted by it with mercy. Even the best eyes can go blind, ventured too deep into the dark.
Let us be each other's confidence and comfort to guide them back to the light.
For myself, Lady Goldheart.
By the everlasting pureness of your heart.
Guide my intuition true. For some of them...
I know not what to love for. And others which test the reasons not to."

There is a quiet moment, and a deep breath is drawn. Oblivious to a tear silently running down her cheek, she said.

"Lend me the strength, kindness, and patience to learn.
By your light. I am determined to study."

Opening her eyes again. The Elf would straighten her shoulders. Wipe the tear from her eyes and enter the village.
Spending the rest day by the riverside. Improvising heartfelt notes while contemplating her next actions.

[Cinta]

clang - clang - clang

Ever so quietly, the contact medallion came to a collosion with the golden ring with every turn as it rolled around five fingers in a full circle. A sun-elf was crouching up on one of the tree-borne lookouts of Doron Amar, staring into the distance where the sun will soon chase away the shadows of the moon.

Every time... she pulls up a column of support... two others crumble to the ground.

The medallion came to a stop, it's surface caressed by her tumb.

This chaotic mess that she calls the People... Being such, is it truly a surprise that her kin is in a decline among those more 'organized' species? - and amused scoff follows the thought.


A boon of a tranquil night - in such a quality wasn't experienced since two years or more - her mind was clear at last.

Since when it came so natural to sacrifice her own happiness for that of the others?

Resting in the shoothing embrace of Sehanine, the answer was obvious. Through quietly shifting memories, through the view of a firre bursting up in protective flames, the sound of dozen arrows thudding into a body shielding her's, or the touch of a hilt that promised union of the Three..

This life, this wasn't only her's since a long time.

A last circle around delicate fingers, and the medallion finds it's way back to a hidden pocket. A few steps followed by a flicker of a wand, the elf disappears into the vast trunk of the tree.

[InsomnesCanis]

Late at night, Lylan'Synor can be spotted on the gazebo overlooking the waterfall.
Under the light of Sehanine Moonbow the Elf stood her own internal vigil.
Wishing for the goddess in her heart and the goddesses in the sky impart her clarity, and wisdom.
As she reflected all of this day. The talks, the fights, the dances.
'And you too will improve. for you too, need to get better.'
'Need to get better.'
Long hours the Ar'Tel-Quessir reflected, motionless but for slight shivers from icy winds, felt cool against protective magic.
Suffused by a red glow, cast by another.
It was close to the witching hour, that emerald-colored eyes opened to survey the village with newfound determination.
Her head turned back, watching the shimmering orb of red hovering above the center of the gazebo.
'Her Art. Made by simple expressive intent. That can be something to love.'
Turning her back at the dawn, she went away to change clothes and tend the sacred gardens. A little smile on her lips, happy for small victories, and important lessons.

[Cinta]

An amulet is held gently in one palm, Syndreth looking down at it while standing before the shrine of Tel'Seldarine in Doron Amar. The amulet is set on a thin silver chain, sapphire and diamond dance upon the surface in the depiction of Sehanine's holy symbol. Holding the amulet still, she pulls out a single arrow, and sets it down before the shrine. The fletching is stained red and wrapped to the arrow shaft with sinew, strong and flexible wood, with the point honed razor sharp. Standing before the offering, words of her whispered prayer get dragged away by the wind.

For the sake of his mother, for the sake of all who holds him dear, I plead to you, Triune Goddess.
- Sehanine, let your light shine brightly on the path he takes -
- Aerdrie, let your winds lead his arrows for true aim -
- Hanali, let your love embrace him so he could accept what he is, and find a home at last -
For however long the road is, those left behind will always wait for his return.

[Cinta]

A white horse stood by the riverbank, all hooves immersed in the water, the animal throwing it's head and dancing joyfully, as the sun-elf next to it tried to hush it with shooting words, but more like laughing herself when seeing the mare's joy. Her boots and the metallic parts of her armor left behind on the shore, she was wading through the water knees high, while baiting the horse to follow her under a larger willow tree that reached above the river. There, she climbed out on one of the protruding, wide roots, balancing barefooted, then dropping down into sitting. With legs dangling on the both sides of the root, a long, pleased sigh was let out, the escaping breath deep enough to carry away the worries of the last days. Reaching up, half-wet hair that got damp from fighting the horse was pulled to one side, while her gaze peacefully scanned the other shore. It is, what it is now.

"This is your new home, Moonlight."

[Snarfy]

In the last few days, those within the village, depending on how attentive they were, may or may not notice the following...

~~~

A certain venerable wizard, who could frequently be seen standing by the riverbanks with his companion(or scouring the Wizards tower for new tomes to read), had worn a troubled expression over the last tenday, especially so after certain rumors had reached his ears, and a brief conversation in particular had taken place with an elven priest and a wizardess within the Jest. While the details of this discussion would likely not be known beyond the walls of the tavern, perhaps more noticeable was the sudden deviation in the red-robed Archmages routine: his normal slow shuffling steps had been injected with a slight urgency as he moved about the Tower, seemingly taking both a mental and written inventory of certain items and artifacts within. This went on for days, and the moments in between would see Mhaenal quietly conversing with the village elders.

At daybreak of Alturiak 14, the centuries old elf could be seen leading his horse towards and out of the village gates, it's packs laden with the entirety of his personal collection of tomes, scrolls, and assorted writings. Upon reaching the edge of the southern Sharpteeth, a thin hand reached into a single pouch, then drew a circle of sand in the morning frost before the red robe and horse vanished into the weave. No word would be left as to where the wizard had gone, and a certain planar feline would be noticeably amiss with the wizards absence, likely to the benefit of the rivers' population of fish.

~~~

Seen less frequently would be the wood elf Damariel, who, when not foraging the nearby wilds, might be spotted attending to his guard duties at the gate, stoic and calm as ever. In recent months however, the rangers visits would become more sparse, but his departures would always be preceded with word left with the rangers that he would be returning to visit Silverymoon, and his family. Late in the evening of Alturiak 15, the ranger can be seen affixing his armor and pack, and once again sets off north. Although this time a rarely seen, young arctic wolf follows skittishly on his heels...

~~~

Last, and probably the least seen about the village(mostly due to his uncanny ability to avoid literally everyone), a blue hooded moon elf, known to, more or less, come and go as he pleased, continued to do just that... and all the while enjoying unparalleled levels of eremitism. Like clockwork, the moon elf arrives, he purchases arrows, he eats apples, and then he leaves. Whether or not he speaks to anyone besides the barmaid during his visits is likely not even worthy of debate...

[Cinta]

A new scroll was posted on the notice boards.

Villagers of Doron Amar!

As many of you are already aware, changes have occurred within the village's administration.

On 20th of Alturiak, a village meeting will be held in the Council Halls to address these changes and discuss the way forward. All villagers are invited to attend the meeting and let their voices be heard.

May Corellon guide us on our winding paths.
Syndreth Fieryfey

Hidden: show

((( Starting at 8 pm GMT on 20th of February )))

[Cinta]

On the 18th of Alturiak, a warband of elves fought their way through the Uldoon Trail, where the peace of the land was disturbed by the blight of the undead. The local wildlife fled, as the rotting army seemingly aimlessly wandered through the fields, except of two encounters, where the elves intercepted and successfully crushed a bigger group of the walking dead, that led by a lich. The incident was reported to the officials of Greenest and Nashkel, adding that no signs were found about where the undead came from, but the lich was at least banished - for now.

The next day, Syndreth spends in the tower, picking up every map of the Coast she could found, and piling them up on one large table. Accompanied by a plate of cookies she got her hands on in the Jest's kitchen, she goes through the maps systematically, comparing and making some notes for herself.