an elf at the gate

[beneviolent]

An elf strode up the rise to the circle of pillars. A long tipped spear held loosely, his cloak interwoven with twigs and leaves swinging behind him.

It had been a long journey from far upriver of the De'lim'byr, he thought. A fleeting smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He grunted; half laugh, half chuckle. His thoughts went back to the centaur wedding. A Ride, he thought, his smile widening. At least that’s what the Forest Herd centaurs called a wedding. He was proud of his childhood friend, Galloping Hooves. His friend would be a fine husband, and perhaps no less inclined for hunting or adventure.

He placed those memories aside to examine the pillars. There, that one. Somehow it captured his attention. Even as it was as identical to the others, the others were equally identical to it. The familiar pillar welcoming his touch. It had been so long, he thought. Too long. Yet here he was, at the edge of stone and forest. At the edge of journey and….?

He closed his eyes, his neck bowing, slowly tipping towards the stone, until he felt his forehead resting, supported by stone.

Some moments later his ears perked at new trills, warbling, and birdsong high overhead. He had returned.

Between a blink, a Ranger of the Forest appeared before his eyes. No doubt others had arrows nocked and ready behind him.

“Halt” a grizzled veteran commanded in elven. Seldruin halted his step, his foot hovering above soft moss.

“I know you,” Elder Endrain said, returning to his post at the stairs, his gaze continuing its vigilant scan of the woods.

“I greet you, cousin,” Seldruin replied. “A star shines on the forest,” his foot reaching the ground.

He would rest soon, among the moonflowers, with the waterfall tumbling a rhythm into the shimmering pool. The tingling scent of the moonflowers mingling with duskwood and pine.

He stopped at the gate, lifting his eyes to the trees above. He stood there a few minutes, his gaze wandering over familiar trunks, boughs, and limbs. Details slowly emerging from memory, completing their associations with the view before him.

What has changed? What remains as before?

And there stood Elder Nylaras beyond the gate, beyond the stream, electrifying his eyes. He smiled, Galloping Hooves’s jests of horseplay ringing in his ears. He caught the impudent words, “A Ride! Hah! A Rut!” before they spilled across his lips.

He placed his hand on the gate intending to cross the stream and ...
the gate did not budge. "What? Locked?" he said, "Locked?" bewildered.

[mrm3ntalist]

Mendel watching the scene from the tree top houses, recognises the familiar figure and rushes down. As he approaches, he bows his head to Elder Nylaras before looking at Seldruin

"Greetings Seldruin, It has been a long time since I last saw you. Welcome back" Mendel says and opens the gate for the elf.

"I am certain you have many stories to share. Perhaps over some fine elven wine?"

[beneviolent]

The last few steps up the path from the wyvern barrens rose up before him. Atop the rise, travelers hurried past the intersecting trail. Once assured no wyvern threatened they turned their gaze south towards Nashkell or north towards Beregost. He leaned on his spear as a skilled adventurer strode past in a hurry for a hunt.

Standing aside of the well worn track Seldruin topped the last step. The campsite ahead would provide welcome rest.

Another adventurer was striding down the road. Planting sure feet she asked, “Is this good hunting grounds?“
He motioned his hand in a wide circle. “Many…,” he stammered, “...lands.”

Suddenly her green cloak swirled, her bow came up fast, an arrow loosed in one sure move, shooting past his weary surprise. The blazing planar creating with blazing hair and oversized ear ring roared. He turned, and quick worded a spell at the being. A second, then a third, arrow brought it down. He stepped back and she checked the thing for signs of life.

“What was that?” she asked in the common tongue. He searched among his few man words. “Flameling,” he uttered with difficulty. Unconsciously, he repeated in his native tongue, “An Efreet of the plane of Fire.”

More travelers hurried past the dying embers. She beckoned to the campfire speaking in elven, “It is good to hear the silver song of the people again. I would hear of your hunt.”

He sat, and spoke, rejoicing in his native tongue. Of this hunt, of past hunts, of stories like songs about to be sung, or the leap of a stag before it bounds.

[beneviolent]

He watched her arrows fly. Her green eyes catching peripheral movement, measuring the distances, effortlessly gaging the wind before nimble fingers loosed the string that flung piercing broadleaf points into critical target points. In a few moments of several releases, her arms dancing a ballet of quiver, nocking, aiming, and release, the bandit gang lay dead. Mendel and Endrain would approve, he thought as she recited a tribute to Solonor.

“This way,” he said. And between blinks of an eye, they stood underneath towering trees. The rich, full scent of pine, duskwood, and weirwood surrounded them. Tremelling and trilling songbirds flitted high overhead. Between blinks a Ranger of the Forest appeared before them. No doubt others had arrows nocked and ready behind him.

“Halt” a grizzled veteran commanded in elven. Seldruin halted his step, his foot hovering above soft moss.

“I know you,” Elder Endrain said indicating Seldruin. His gaze moved to the elven archer stepping forward from behind Seldruin. “Not you.”

“I greet you, cousin,” Seldruin replied. “Nawien Luelin is my honored guest. She fletches fine shafts of the best beech and ash. Her arrows fly true and Solonor guides her spirit. Mendel will surely want to speak with her. She wishes to honor the Elders.”

[Vartigy]

Following the trails south, remembering the information sourced in the taverns and from local farmers, Nawien stumbles upon the Wyvern breeding grounds.

Kneeling on the edge of the cliff, she examines the crevices and terrain thoroughly.

Her eyes track the movement of a male elf, moving sluggishly back up to the trail... she decides to meet.

.... "Snipes, they call me Snipes in the common tongue.... I am Nawien Luelin wild cousin"...

After many hours of friendly song speak around the glowing embers of the camp fire. They make for the Misty Forest.

Her heart fills with joy, casting long glances around the community... Love, Life, Friendship, Balance.... Like Home....

She begins wandering the borders... simply... listening.

[mrm3ntalist]

“This way,” he said. And between blinks of an eye, they stood underneath towering trees. The rich, full scent of pine, duskwood, and weirwood surrounded them. Tremelling and trilling songbirds flitted high overhead. Between blinks a Ranger of the Forest appeared before them. No doubt others had arrows nocked and ready behind him.

“Halt” a grizzled veteran commanded in elven. Seldruin halted his step, his foot hovering above soft moss.

“I know you,” Elder Endrain said indicating Seldruin. His gaze moved to the elven archer stepping forward from behind Seldruin. “Not you.”

“I greet you, cousin,” Seldruin replied. “Nawien Luelin is my honored guest. She fletches fine shafts of the best beech and ash. Her arrows fly true and Solonor guides her spirit. Mendel will surely want to speak with her. She wishes to honor the Elders.”

One of the rangers have already informed the village Elders and Mendel, long before Seldruin and Nawien approached the village. The moment the aboriginal elf responds to the veteran guard about Nawien, Mendel comes out of the shadows. The hooded elf approaches them slowly looking at Nawien appraisingly.

"Greetings Seldruil" He says to the aboriginal elf, then looks at Nawien

"Greetings to you too cousin. A friend of Seldruil is a friend of ours as well. Come inside the village... " Mendel says and gestures towards a small path leading behind some gigantic pine trees.

[SeedsOfDoubt]

*Just above the tops of the tree's a huge Bronze Dragon flies. The trio of Elves heading toward the village would see her glistening bronze scales shimmering brightly in the sunlight rays shining down through the trees. Her intense gaze fixed on the three, she circles them a couple of times making sure her mate is safe in the strangers company then heads for the village using the Dala'Haera, or the "Battle Center" as a landing platform.

When Mendel and the two Elves arrives through the trees into the hidden Village, Nai'Kabael takes off running towards Mendel then shifting in mid-stride back to her tiny feral Elven form smiling like crazy.* MENDEL! *She calls out to him and jumps into his arms giving him her customary greeting of a face-full of loving kisses... to anyone that knows or understands the behavior of Wolves, this greeting to her Mate resembles very much like how wolves greet their Alpha wolf upon returning to the pack.

Hail! *She then greets the two new Elves* Who these Elfs are Mendel? *she smiles at them as her arms are around Mendel leaning towards them sniffing the air to try and catch their scent on the breeze.*

[Vartigy]

Nawien smiles warmly at Mendel during the introductions. She notes his features, his smell, the way he holds himself. Typical details that she lodges away with every creature or person of interest.

"Thankyou for recieving me. Solonor's winds guide and the arrow flies true."
She unslings her bow from her shoulder and holds it in front of Mendel, presenting in the traditional formal manner and sign of respect.

"Seldruin has sung the greatness of this village." She nods briefly to Seldruin.

Then as the shadow passes over them, her eyes immediately dart up to its source,... tracking...