The dark and sullen waste of the moor

[Maverick 40]

The dark and sullen waste of the moor, was a far cry of from the beautiful and serene wood he had come to call home. Still, the place where he did trod was not home, not without her. This was the place of her home, the one she gave up to be with him and the one she gave up to be free.

Now, she has returned and her people, these people, needed her in this time of troubles. Laisren knew she had always feared their reproach but now she returns as their protector and possible savior against the coming of the Orc. Their people had lost so much over the centuries, some did turn to the deep and darker parts of this tragic land but these people remained.

They wished fight to maintain the lands of their forefathers and although their nomadic nature allowed them move freely about them, they knew that what came did not simply come to push them deeper into the Moor. If this Orc should come, it would turn them into the bones their ancestors became during their own wars to save their lands.

Laisren came to be with her, to help see her people prepare and grow strong in the face of this possible tyranny. He watched as she conversed with them and he watched as when they left back for their tents, the moisture that did fill her eyes. He knew how painful this was for her and he knew that this was her chance at redemption, redemption within her very own heart.

He sat with her and warmed his hands by the fire while she sipped her tea. They did not speak but instead were content within each others company. The morning would usher in a new time for these people, it would usher in a new place for Saline and he hoped to see her strong through it all..........

[nezzerscape]

While her linage was severed by the dark heart of one she thought would unite the tribes, she walked among them, still considering them her family. The pains of the past swelled within her and while few recognized this, fewer understood. There was one that knew her so well that words were no longer necessary. It was his strength that filled and enabled her to walk among them once again.

In battle she was known for taking charge rising quickly through the ranks of Doron’s Mathora, but politics was not her passion. How could she bring the tribes together as her father had done? So many had refused their warnings of the Orc and submit that they would be safe in their lands that they knew so well. All too often failing to see when it would have made a difference.

From fire to fire, from family to family she walked. She broke bread with some, shared stories with others, all the time giving them comfort to what lies ahead. Saline knew the tribes needed to unite if they were to face the Orcs. She also knew that choosing a leader could cause rifts as it had done in the past.

With her painted smile, she walked among them, sharing stories and braking bread. All the time thinking on what her father had done. It was as she walked back to Laisren that she remembered her father’s words…

"I have no time for games or politics. War is amongst us and I will lead forth! It is your choice if you will follow in my footsteps toward our future or fade into the shadows of inconsequentness."

[nezzerscape]

It was morning and she awoke in his arms. Slowly she slid from under the firs to get the day started. He turned as she did so with a deep planted smile. It was a smile she was proud of putting there the night before.

As she slipped from the tent the cool mist hit her face. It was a fresh reminder of what her home meant to her. As she started to stoke the fire she looked out on the Moor. There a simple nod was all that was given to say “good mooring”, but today the nods lingered more so that in that past. It was almost a “slight bow”. She in turn did the same with respect. “Was she starting to make an impression?” she thought.

Her mind started to dwell on this while she started to cook the remainder of the bacon along with the eggs she collected from the nearby nests. As the bacon began to sizzle she cut think slices of bread to catch the fat as it jumped from the pan. Without looking she poured a cut of tea and raised it high from her crouched position. As if clockwork, his hand touches her cheek while the other takes the fresh tea from her hand.

Reaching down to snatch a piece for bacon soaked bread, Laisren’s hand is quickly shooed away. “It will be done shortly Crumb cakes”. She knew how this bothered him in the presence of others so as to emphasize her point, she said the words a bit louder than necessary. With that he tried to stand stoically while the woman tends to his needs. They both knew it was a game in the hearts and continued on with that inner smile they both shared for each other.

[nezzerscape]

Previously, prior to "The Gathering"...

With supplies packed, Saline and Laisren walk down the path that would lead them to her homelands… the High Moor.

Reaching the Moors did not take long but that was just the beginning of their journey. As they slowly made their way through the rocky outcrops among the rolling hills there was little sign of the scattered tribes. While not a tracker, Saline made note of what little signs her peoples had left as they work their way further in. Keeping from sight made the trek was slow and arduous. As they went on, Saline would occasionally look back and give Laisren a warm and comforting smile.

Over the course of the next few days, Saline left arrows here and there. Some intact, other purposely broken then bound back together. All the time she would simply smile back to Laisren almost to say “to not question” and he never did. It was almost a fortnight since they started this trek and as they wove their way through Moors she did not seek sight of her kin, only that of the next outcropping.

Each night a small fire would be lit for she would not be without her tea and she knew the comport it would bring to them in these lands. Each morning Laisren would remove any signs or their presence and scout the sounding area. He was very diligent in this self-appointed task. Saline knew him too well, he knew they were being followed but was still uncertain by whom at to what end.

It was the morning of the 12 day and while finishing her morning tea she looked up to Laisren and with a straight face she simply stated “it is time, we head north”. Quickly gathering their things she turn to Laisren as he began what has now become his morning ritual and says “there is no need for that this morning, come we must move quickly”.

With that said the two headed north towards Highstar Lake. The day was uneventful and quieter than most. The morning mist never did seem to clear as they reached the ruins of an old keep along the shore. “Yes” she said looking around, “This will do nicely.” As quickly as the words left her lips she made her way into the ruins.

While the ruins were quit old and had been destroyed and rebuilt many times over, most scholars would discern their origins to be of elfish nature. Now just a few walls and archways remains save for the remnants of a tower at the water’s edge. It was this tower she headed towards.

As she made her way towards the old oak door still protecting the tower she ignored all that signs of its more recent inhabitance, trolls. With concern Laisren started to protest but she would have none of it as she opened up the door to the tower. Once inside she lit the fire as if it was the most natural thing to do. It took Laisren a moment for it to register that the hearth had been set with both dry wood and tinder. Perhaps it was that the room was furnished with rugs, pillows, candles, cookery and even a new tarp covering most of the open area that would have otherwise been a roof that fire did not register first.

There were many things that struck him as he watched Saline place the kettle over the fire. “It was not the one they brought nor did she fill it?” He thought. As he began to put his thought to questions Saline interrupted with “head up the stairs and keep an eye out.” Uncertain but trusting her as she did him, Laisren made his way up the stairs till then ended abruptly at the top of the wall. There, braced at the edge, he kept his eyes fixed on the Moors as dusk settled in.

Soon she was by his side with tea in hand, “With or without?”. Taking his eyes for the horizon for but a moment he responded “without” taking the tea and some warm bread his eyes met the horizon once more, but this time there were fires! “Saline my love, we have comp…” “I know” she interrupted heading back down the stairs. “I need to warm some more bread and cheese.”

“Cheese?” he thought biting into the fresh bread. “We did not bring cheese…” his thoughts were interrupted again but this time by the fresh bread that now filled his mouth. Focusing on the task at hand, Laisren notice several more fires. He now counted twelve in all. Searching for more a startling knock was heard at the door, but before he could make his ways down the steps Saline was at the door.

“Ynshael!” shouted a young male elf as he entered taking Saline into his arms, swinging her as he does so. He was quickly followed by eleven others all elfin varying in age, all greeting her in turn. Soon the room was filled with talk and greetings from one elf to another. Laisren, having slipped into the shadows prepared for the worst.

Smiling to all, Saline moved about the room filling cups and plates as all enjoy the festive reunion. “We are fine love” Saline stated from under her breath knowing all too well the Laisren was by her side thought she could not see him. From out of the shadows he appeared and the room then fell silent.

It was not long before the first elf that enter rose to speak “Who is this one Ynshael?”

Smiling to all Saline responded in turn. “I am now known as <i>Saline Ua Tiernan Ahk'Aegis of En Dharasha Everae</i>, Ynshael Quitas is no more. That name died with my father.” As her words left her lips the room went silent in respect for her father and his house. “This is Laisren my love and husband. We come to you with hope that you will band together once more as you did for my father to aid our cause…” stepping back she turns the floor over to Laisren.

/// Thought it would be good to post this here as well for some additional RP background on Saline's return to the Moors and their (Laisren and Saline) asking for an audience/representative. This representative was Ambassador Char'farghlyn. Now back to the present...

[nezzerscape]

As each day passes, the calm settled deeper within her. Perhaps it was the time spent with Laisren or her people she is uncertain. Once she was comforted by a cloak of spite and vengeance, but now displaced she no longer searches for it. “How can this be?” she thought. Even some of the most joyful moments did she carry this cloak; the day she met Laisren, when Laisren, Dralzar and herself headed south to discuss the state of elfs in the land, when “Boots” promoted her to Caption of the Mathora, the day she wed… In each moment of her life did she keep this cloak close to her heart. “It was not all that bad.” she thought. In trough it was not. It kept her safe, it gave her the strength to carry her comrade to saft when they had fallen… it even pushed he beyond her limits taking her to the depth in search for the remedy she needed for her love.

[nezzerscape]

Yes, as each day passes, the calm settled deeper. It had not gone unnoticed either. Her inner strength shown though as she walked among them, the Wild Elves of the Moor, her people. The morning rounds were brisk but well rewarding. She would stop by each fire, stoking them for those that still slept, break bread with those that were awake and taught the younglings to fletch property.

Afternoons were full. Training the archers where simple for all she had to do was pick up a bow to show her prowess and they would line up. This made her smile and in turn, Laisren. Organizing the others proved to be much more difficult. Each tribe had their “own way” of doing things. But as each day passed she kept at it, grouping tribes together playing off each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Showing them that each and every one of their “own ways” was the right way at times. The many seasons of leading the Mathora shown through as the tribes began to work as one under her guidance.

Evenings rounds were peaceful. As in the mornings she made her way to each and every fire. There she spoke of the day’s accomplishments, shared food with some, song with others. She always made appoint to bring tea and a bit of food from each of the tribes to those on duty. She knew how important it was to take care of those whom watched over them as they slept. She also knew how important it was to take care of the one whom kept the furs warm for her return. And so every night she did so.

[Maverick 40]

Laisren watched from a distance, his arms folded and leaning upon a wooden totem. He watched the one he loved become more than just a woman, she was becoming a symbol. A symbol of hope and inspiration to her people and to herself. He watched as with each passing day she seemed to grow stronger, more fierce, more independent. All the reasons why she had left this God's forsaken land and come to find him. She was changing for the better.

A slight twinge of despair began to sink deep within his heart and he looked down to the cold damp marsh beneath his feet. Yet, for the first time since his arrival, he felt the sun's warm rays rain down through the fog to light the lichen into a beautiful fluorescent green beneath his dark boots. There was still life within this land, there was still hope, he thought. He looked back up to Saline as she was giving lessons to the children and being taken into confidence of their leaders.

Laisren smiled a sad smile. He would leave soon to return to the place they called home but he would not tell Saline, she was too busy helping give hope and bringing comfort to these people. She was becoming as the lichen, ingrained and necessary not just for the survival of this once proud place but as their sign of hope, to remind these people that there remains a once proud land here, that this land is worth fighting for.

She was needed here but he was not. So, when the morning would come, he would set off for the summons of the Misty Forest Elders. He turned and walked away while she was still busy passing out bread to the hungry. His soul had been nourished back to health by this woman, how could he be so selfish as to deny these people her grace, in their time of need................

[Maverick 40]

As night came once more, he moved slowly back into the camp of Wild Elves. It had been a fort night before his return but so very much had changed since that time. He remained hidden from sight, as the wild ones gathered by the hearth of their central fire to eat and hear the stories of their elders.

She was with them, smiling and laughing amongst her kin. Laisren's heart leaped at the sight. His thoughts had been racing, trying to fathom the depths of all that had happened and the great despair that set upon him was suddenly washed away with the sight of her joy. He didn't know how he would approach her? He wondered if she was even thinking of him, but then he saw the concerned look, as she looked off into the distance behind her.

A tear filled his eye and he smiled despite her sudden despair, for he knew that she was thinking of him in that moment. He wanted to move out of the shadows and go to her but he remained where he stood. His thoughts were pained, conflicted, full of remorse and although he knew that simply by going to this woman he loved that she could take it all away but still he remained a shadow within the fire's light.

Then the fire did begin to die and the wild ones moved toward their mud huts and tents seemingly in unison, leaving Saline alone. She moved slowly back toward the tent they had shared. He watched as she entered and the light he knew to be a small fire for her tea kettle began to emanate her silhouette. She was so beautiful he thought to himself. His heart ached and his muscles seemed to numb as he watched her slowly undress.

He knew it was not the right thing to do, he knew that it would only complicate things but he could not control himself. This was greater than any cause, than any struggle and his heart would not allow his thoughts to control what he would do next. He silently entered the tent and saw her naked kneeling before the small fire, patiently waiting for the kettle. She was so patient he thought, she was so beautiful.

Suddenly, her ears perked and she half turned, "Laisren?", she asked. Her voice sounded full of doubt, as if she had asked this question before each time she had felt the a moor's cool breeze blow, only to be let down with the sound of silence. This time she would receive a response.

"My love....", Laisren said in a tone that was both sad and sweet. She stood and turned to see him standing in the entrance. She began to ask, "Are you....", but before she could answer he quickly closed the gap between them taking him into his arms. Looking into her large hazel eyes, he kissed her passionately, as she began to unstrap his leather jerkin. They laid down beside the kettle as the pot began to whistle but it did not stop for sometime, until all the water turned to steam.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They laid next to each other, caressing and smiling at each other when it was over. Not a word was spoken until Saline lazily began to ask, "What had happen......" but before she could finish Laisren put a finger gently to her lips. His crystal blue eye looked into hers, it's sad expression did not match the smile he gave her and she looked at him puzzled.

"My love, you look tired and in need of reverie", he spoke to her. "I have been so busy but I have missed you...", she replied looking back and forth across his face trying to read his thoughts. It was perhaps the first time since they had met, she seemed unable to connect to him. "I am here now my love", he began, then finished while stroking his fingers across her eyelids and kissing her gently upon her forehead, "rest now".

He continued caress her eyes until her breaths became long and rhythmic. The sky to the east had begun to turn from pitch black, to a bluish glow and he knew that the morning had come. He stood, dressed and gathered his belongings from the tent silently. He placed a note where he had lay and looked at Saline. Tears filled his eye and he bent over to place a gentle kiss upon her forehead.

Saline began to stir, as she felt the moistness from his tears upon her forehead. "Shh, rest my love", he whispered in her ear and stroked her cheek. He watched her eyes flutter falling back into reverie and then the moment he feared more than any other in his life was upon him. He did not hesitate, he stood and moved for the flap in the tent. He looked back one last time to see her naked figure, her beautiful auburn hair falling across the curves of her body and the serenity upon her face.

He slid out of the tent and moved briskly for the orange hue which was now rising from the east. He did not stop, or look back as the village as it began to shrink behind him in the distance and the burning globe rose over the eastern horizon to cast his shadow over the moor. The tears within his eyes began to dry as he stared into it's light. His pace quickened and his strides became more resolute.

As he reached the horizon and the sun's light began to overtake his shadow, he whispered to himself "Gods willing......"

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Saline woke to the warmth of the sun's light radiating in through the tent. She looked for Laisren but instead found the note he had left. It was written within his hand writing and said, ".......I will see you again".

[nezzerscape]

Saline woke to the warmth of the sun's light radiating in through the tent. She looked for Laisren but instead found the note he had left. It was written within his hand writing and said, ".......I will see you again".

Upon reading the note a smile returned to her face. “It was not a dream” she thought. Over the past several moons she had spent bonding with her kin, bringing them together so that once more they can stand united to protect their lands from foes both past and present. Laisren and Saline knew now that they had different paths ahead for them. For seasons they had walk together and bonded on more levels that she could count.

At the first realization that their paths were to diverge, she felt ill, for they had both promised each other to one another. Though as the time past and Laisren was spent more time away, she began to truly understand the bond they shared; no time or distance lessened it. It was as if he was always there with her, giving her comfort and strength when she needed it.

Laying there with the Moor’s mist creeping through the opening she smiled to herself, “he will be back” she thought placing her hand over her stomach, “he has yet one more reason to…”. Drifting back in to slumber, her dreams of him returned…

[nezzerscape]

As the days passed since Laisren’s visit her spirits were high. Saline smiled to herself as she walked among her people, see them working, living, no “growing together”. She knew time was short and soon she must bring them together under a single banner. At first Saline was uncertain as to her abilities to lead. Yes she can lead an army, but a people was something altogether different. Now that moons have passed she knew that she could, she was ready. The question was, “are they?”

/// will soon seek to put together and fair well event

[Maverick 40]

Elven Bond
Though not truly part of our physiology, the Elven bond
is related to the Communion on a deep spiritual level.
An Elf can form a mystical and unbreakable bond with
another being, and that being is not necessarily another
Elf. Sometimes this bond is formed with all the pomp
and ceremony of certain Human marriage, and at other
times, it is a quiet and personal thing. For each Elf it is
different, as different as love itself, and the gifts
exchanged can vary from a simple flower to an elegant
crown of emeralds.
When an Elf first feels this type of strong
commitment forming, we begin to feel what the other
person is feeling, much like during Communion. If the
recipient of our affection is another elf, they will begin to
feel those feelings too, and will return those feelings, in
most cases. We Elves do not “wear our hearts on our
coat sleeves”, as Humans and other N’Tel’Quessir so
often do. We weigh our hearts long and hard before
attempting to bonding that that special someone,
sometimes centuries, and that is why we rarely need
deal with rejection. It is a sad Elf indeed who mistakes
someone’s feelings after centuries of friendship and
togetherness.
This bond is, in many ways, much stronger
then the communion ability we share, for this is a
lifelong bond and not so easily broken. Through this
bond, each person can sense all of the feelings the
other is feeling, as well as any physical pain or distress
they might be in. If separated, we can get a general
sense of direction the other person is in, as long as they
are on the same plane. We can tell how far they are
from us with almost pinpoint accuracy when within 20
miles (nearby), and also roughly gauge the distance
when they are further (20-50 miles=fairly close, 51-
100= some distance away, 100-500 =Very far, and
501+ = a great distance). This helps us to locate our
loves when we sense they are in trouble. And, woe to
any creature that stands in our way, for an Elf fighting to
aid his/her beloved fights like no other.
At this point, the bond between two lovers
has become so strong that the other person’s life now
means more to us then our own. This level of rapport is
called Aleiryid, and both the Elf and their love now live
solely to make the other happy, at whatever cost. This
is the most altruistic pairing two mortals can share (for
game purposes, treat this exactly as if the two shared
communion within the last 24 hours; it is an ongoing
effect however, and they get all combat bonuses that
apply as long as they are side by side). Elves can only
form these bonds after 150 years of life- anything
younger is considered too immature for such deep
spiritual commitment. They also must spend at least
one year with their beloved prior to bonding, and spend
some time together at least once a day during this
period.
Unfortunately for many, an Elf’s ego works
against them, and their intended bond-mate. A high
sense of self interferes with the bonding, and it takes a
longer period of time before the actual bond can be
made (In game terms, the couple must spend 1+[Both
of their CHA Bonuses] years together first, but no less
then one year). You must give wholly of yourself, and
there is no room for egotistical feelings. An ego does
not prevent forming a bond, but it certainly makes it
more difficult to do so.
Few Elves care to bestow this honor on
N’Tel’Quessir, because the bond would be all but
wasted on them. In the case of Humans, this is
especially true, for their lives are like a guttering candle
flame buffeted by the winds of time, too soon blown out.
Conversely, it is the Human lust for life itself that allows
Elves to form bonds with them even quicker then with
other Elves! (In game turns, change years to months
when determining the amount of time the couple must
spend together before bonding). It amazes even the
Eldest amongst us that these ‘children’ can sweep even
the wisest Elf up into their passion for living life to it’s
fullest, and many an Elf has died while barreling though
adventures at an alarming pace along side human
companions- especially Moon Elves. We Sun Elves
have somewhat of a resistance to this, but we do fall
pray from time to time!
This is often called “Walking Destiny’s Path”,
for many know the Humans to be “The Children of
Destiny” in our many of our most ancient prophesies.
Although their lives are often too short, as compared
most other Tel’Quessir, these Elves are usually
amongst our most well sung and remembered heroes.
But I digress…Suffice it to say that a blink of an Elf’s
eye spells the end to these ties, but the love they gain
lasts the rest of their lives.
When the bond is broken, either by death or
treachery, it is a tremendous shock to the other
127
member of the union. It is possible for an Elf to die from
the grief caused by the bond breaking (DC 15 Fortitude
Saving Throw. Failure results in a loss of 200 EXP per
level, and results in the Crushing Despair spell for a
number of months equal to the amount of years the
bond was in place. Success means losing half as much
EXP, and Crushing Despair is limited to a number of
weeks equal to the amount of years the bond was in
place. Critical Failure results in death, one that cannot
be reversed through the use of magic.) Many time, if a
bond is broken with betrayal, the partner who was
betrayed becomes a Banshee, if female, or an Allip, if
male. They pursue their lost loves for all of eternity,
seeking revenge.
I am sure you can understand why bonding is
not undertaken lightly, and why most Elves never bond
again after losing a love. If they ever choose to do so,
they must wait another 150 years for their heart to heal
to the point where it can handle the strain. In theory,
this would mean an Elf could conceivably bond four
times or so during our long lives. But, in actuality,
bonding twice is practically unheard of, and anything
more than that is an extremely rare occurrence.
Our love may be powerful, but our hearts are
but fragile things. This bond applies to the earth itself,
to a lesser extent. If an Elf is denied access to the land,
or sunlight, or even other Elves, he or she may die from
grief and loneliness. This is why Elves cannot be held
captive for long, and why we make terrible slaves. Even
if uninjured, and kept near nature or with other elves, an
Elf can lose hope and will his or her own death. It may
be a terrible price to pay, but many a would-be torturer
or captor have been denied their prize by this means of
‘escape’.

Taken from Elves of Faerun, pg 128

[Displacer]

The fledgling priest had spent the past ten day with the elves of En Dharasha Everae. He had mostly kept to himself, wishing not to discuss his travels within these lands. His pride had been taken from him, yet he was alive thanks to his kin. Still, he could not bring himself to explain how he came to lay before their ancient stones, the desecrated priest of the God whom he once held as his only salvation.

It was this god who was meant to be the salvation of all his people. The priest could not bring himself to even utter his name and had taken to solitary introspection to cure his pain. It had only lead to more questions and more pain. Then on the ninth day he heard the rumors and turmoil of those copper elves whom gathered by the stream.

A call to the people had come, a gathering of all elves within these woods and the surrounding lands such had not been seen in centuries it was said. The elves of these woods did not know why, though the name Saline had continued to be mentioned with reverence. A woman of the Moor, a commander of forces and a leader of her people it was said.

Andariel became curious though his heart still beat in an anxious pain, he did not wish to become embroiled in the affairs of others who may come to question his faith, a faith he simply did not understand anymore. Then the procession began and Andariel felt as if he were almost be swept up by the tide of his own people, as they slowly entered the cursed land, the land of the High Moor........

[Displacer]

Andariel followed the procession, listened to the young wood elven women's gossip as they looked at him and giggled. He smiled back at them in return as the sun whose heat had nearly sent him into the ground centuries before his time seemed tempered by a breeze blowing from the north. They came to a pass lined by old ruins which lead to a large valley surrounded by hills.

He did not see it at first but upon those hills were large elven men, wearing tunics and hide armor. In their tasseled and braided hair was adored feathers which must have come from some form of birds of prey. The Misty Forest wood elf procession immediately halted and Andariel watched as the wood elven men exchange greetings customarily, laying gifts down before the feet of the large elves. These elves immediately embraced and soon the wood elves were waved forward into the valley beyond.

There were tents everywhere, as far as the eye could see with elves greeting each other with signs of friendship. Andariel had forgotten all about the plight which had befallen him, now enthralled with the on-goings around him. There was the smell of roasting garlic and root vegetables mingling with that of tobacco and weed pipes. Stalls were set up in a procession towards a central hill but no one was selling anything, they were offering their goods freely.

The sun was soon to set as they drew near to this central hill, he could see a large pyre atop and the silhouettes of two figures. "That must be the Lady Saline", he heard one of the girls say. "This is the woman", Andariel whispered to himself as he strained his eyes to look out across the mass of elves and up onto the hill.

She seemed seemed a tall, proud woman whom held her chin high as she spoke out to the people gathered. Andariel squeezed through the crowd to find himself standing before the hill. He seemed drawn to this spectacle. He no other attachments to anyone, or anything in this land, he was free to take it in without concern. This woman soon to be crowned the leader of her people, this proud woman standing before him, who was she he wondered.

He watched as a tribal leader presented her the position of leader of her people. He watched as she accepted it gracefully and with great dignity but there was something amiss he could sense. He watched as she spoke, holding her hands by her belly, her dark olive skin contrasted against shinning hazel eyes. Shinning for they were filled were tears and although she spoke proudly, he watched as she scanned the crowd.

A sadness seemed to enter Andariel at this brief moment, until he heard the words of the Priestess Luthien, behold your new Queen and felt the cries of joy ring out from the people around him. He was given wine, the first he had since leaving the Temple of Corellon upon the Green Isle and soon his sadness faded away. The newly crowned Saline even stepped toward him and not knowing what to do, Andariel bowed and offered his fealty, though he had not even thought it's ramifications.

"It would please me for you to stay with us young Priest", the Lady Saline said down to him and then gave him a wry wink. The haze of the wine had set his wits to foolishness and he offered his wine to the Lady as much as his toast, which she declined and accepted all the same. When she left, the same young wood elven girls stared giggling at Andariel as he stood. "Think one of them has an eye for you", another elf and newly found drinking company said while tipping his goblet into Andariels.

It was not long before Andariel was dancing, if ever poorly next to the young lass and smiling ear to ear. He had found his calling, he had found himself and he was happy.......