Only one day later...
The card dropped from the shuffled deck, a crumbling tower faced up.
Elves were called out for aid, following the call of our Golden Lady, Elyssa the Bladesinger. And they came. A great crowd gathered in the community hall, where the councillors sat upon their staged chairs, and so it begun. Rather soon, all was assembled. Some elves had even prepared beforehand, as Tramahsthas had: potions, supplies, everything one might need when venturing out on a quest of... elven heroes? A Moonblade and an old House were named. Tramahsthas felt as if he had been thrown directly into one of his tales of old. With the full council present, they formed the group, and Feyfool to praise, even Faelyn was among them, alongside the Iliathor sisters and other familiar faces known to Tramahsthas.
It was grand and heroic to see, as these elves roamed out to find the person in need, and the quest behind him. Following Elyssa and the council outwords Doron Amar, and so they found Valeris of the House Dlardrassil. With him, they ventured on to seek the Tower, where omens of peril waved like torches in the darkest night. Yet another flicker of light was not to be forgotten: Valeris introduced himself as a druid of Rillifane, and thus the connection to Naer’anque, Councilor and Druid-Priestess of Rillifane, was easily made. A good omen among so many ill.
Tramahsthas took little part in the talkings or arcane matters. There were others more profound who could handle such things. Instead, he often took his stand near the GlimmerLady, guarding her, and those who might need it. He was not alone. All of them combined were a force to reckon with.
And perhaps, yes, there was the little matter as Arendhel, impressive to look at with her longbow, habing a feline summoning that briefly appeared inspiring Tramahsthas to chant courage and protection near her for all.
As the elves approached the malevolent tower, he called upon his spirit wolf, Fang, who answered, angered as always, yet ready to aid. But it would not be long before that strength was needed.
They sieged the Tower. After facing the first dirges and wards, they advanced, only to be flooded by swarms of elementals, greater ones, powerful and immense. A fierce battle flammed up as fire, ice, and earth clashed against the elves and their companions.
Finally, Tramahsthas could unleash powers he rarely had benefit to use in the material world: Several waves of spiritual force struck against the spirits of fire, ice, and stone, side by side with the swift and mighty magic and weapons of his fellow elves. Banishing and smiting the enemy ahead, until the elementals were no more.
And with that, the tower was entered and fiendish forces toyed with the elves right away.
Riddles of old pacts, blood-thirst in the air. All of the group worked towards bringing light into Valeris’ quest: to find the Moonblade and hopefully some lost siblings of his House.
And they were successful, though a pact and fiends became their foes now, aided by creatures Tramahsthas could not even name. Spirits, elements, tales and myths, those he could face and name.
Arcane and abyssal matters... Feyfool to praise, for there were Natariel, , Lylan'Synor, and Feleron too.
At first, it seemed the fiendish mirage would surely win, having trapped the elves cunning as it think it is. But together, with the skills of Vanira, Naer’anque, Niyressa and the Iliathor sisters, they unraveled the mysteries, opened a vault filled with scrolls, a shard of a blade, and more …finding a way out of the trapping tower.
Tramahsthas grew worried, for neither he nor Fang could pass back through the door they had entered, no ghost could cross it. It was a bad omen and a visible sign. With this grim understanding, he commanded Fang to stay close to Valeris and protect the quest-giver. Yet the elves did not retreat.
They could not. They pressed onward, enduring the malice oozing from the tower.
The "door" led them into a strange library… vast as a mountain of books and journals… where a chessboard awaited, playing pieces in the likeness of archdukes of Cania. Natariel was perhaps abit too excited? Tramahsthas had heard of such things and was quietly relieved that scholars were among them. Clue after clue was found, and puzzle pieces slowly placed together. Eventually, they came into a room filled with corpses, fighting their way free to free it, mainly elves, but also others races died here. Adventurers who had shared their goal, and failed?
The scent of blood and withering filled the air.
"Angharradh, please,"
Tramahsthas thought,
"let us not end the same way..."
Before them stood a magical barrier, with Faeravel of House Dlardrassil trapped within. Drained and thing as a straw. How Faelyn, Elyssa, or the others dismantled the barrier, Tramahsthas did not see clearly, too focused on the dead, on the risk of lost spirits. When Faelyn called out for a healer and supplies, the badger-masked elf moved without thought, standing beside Faelyn and aiding him to tend Faeravel as best they could, under the watchful eyes of Feleron and others searching the room for further evidence.
„
The dead needed to be saved.“
Voices rose in confusion and intension, but Tramahsthas concentrated: letting Faeravel drink water and potions, slicing an apple into small pieces, and gently urging him to eat and drink slowly, otherwise it would may harm. Healing magic was provided by other hands as well.
What happened next was a flurry of moments:
Faeravel tried to stand and the blade shard, held by Vanira, reacted to him, flying upwards in pace and glimmer. With strong emotion Faeravel rejected the blade, and it lost its glimmer, falling as Faeravel himself collapsed into Elyssa’s and Tramahsthas’ arms.
Malicious laughter rumbled through the tower again. Ceilings began to crumble. Magic oozed from around.
Tramahsthas barely caught more than flashes:
Taking Faeravel; speaking to Elyssa, telling her her blade was needed more; carrying the drained elf; Fang still guarding Valeris; the others working swiftly; Feleron securing the blade shard, others lifting corpses, the tower shifting and falling around them.
The situation grew more dire with every heartbeat.
Yet they succeeded, by blade and wit they found their way out of the collapsing tower, only to face one final wave of enemies. Sweat, blood, and tears soaked the ground before they stood victorious at last. They carried the two elves of House Dlardrassil back to Doron Amar. And near the borders of the village, Fang spirited away as always.
What was left was a group of battered heroes and a fragile victory. Some things could not be recovered. But two lives were saved, and some bodies and treasures as well. Tramahsthas brought both Faeravel and Valeris to the Temple of Angharradh, as the talkings began.
Faeravel needed immediate aid and became his patient with the temple’s healers.
Valeris he asked to undergo a check-up and gently got hinted to seek Naer’anque’s counsel, if he wished to and where to find her and the golden tree.
They both got invited from Tramahsthas for spiritual aid and good will.
Both were welcome and he would be glad i fable to sooth their souls.
And so, after this day of troubles and triumphs, quietness settled again over Doron Amar, like a cloud of feathers, a soft blanket laid upon the wounded community.
Hopefully, that tower crumbled to dust… elsewhere, far away, and not upon elven heads.
These were Tramahsthas’ last thoughts as he started to chant, that night, beneath the stars.
A lament for the lost souls,
A flicker of hope for the souls won.
"