Doron Amar Role-Play

[DarkmoonKing]

((Aiming for 8:00AM PST Saturday, 26 October. That would be 11:00AM EST, 12:00pm Sao Paolo, 04:00pm London, 17:00 Frankfurt, 18:00 Moscow))

((Just a reminder for everyone! Hope to see you there tomorrow!))

[DarkmoonKing]

Laethleas had risen early from his reverie, before the sun and before his beloved, leaving her with a gentle kiss on the forehead as she slept. The ranger readied himself with his usual gear, preparing for a trek from Greenest to Doron Amar, avoiding if he could the eyes of the monsters that roamed the Trail in faint silver light of the setting moon.

Making his way skillfully, Laethelas had finally arrived with the first red-gold rays of the morning sun as it bathed the still and silent elven haven. He visited first the collection of shrines to the Seldarine, offering thanks and praise to them, and then he made his way to the courtyard above the stream that split the village in two. He leaned on the stone bannister, eyes peering out over the narrow valley, in silent recollection. The hours went by uncounted as he reflected on all that he had experienced over his nearly three month long stay on the Coast: His adventures and all they had taught him; his brief crisis of faith and finding the true path of his heart; his time spent under the stars in Doron Amar, and the dear friends he had made there; and, of course, the chance encounter at the crossroads in the Balduran Outskirts that led him to meeting the love of his life.

The quiet dawn had quickly turned to a bustling late morning, and eventually a brisk early evening before Laethelas had revisited all that he had done. He took one last stroll through the streets of Doron Amar, slow and patient, drinking in all the sights and sounds that he would be leaving. Of course it would only be temporary, if all went well, but Spring and breaking of Winter's icy grip on the east was a long six months or more away. The reminder that he would spend that time with the one who would soon be his wife soothed his heart and mind, and he made his way back to Greenest to find her.

[Flights of Fantasy]

In the twilight of the ancient woods, a new song born from both sorrow and hope begins to ripple through the realms. The haunting notes carry the weight of shared suffering—echoes of battles lost and loved ones gone—but within lies a spark of resilience. As weary fair folk gather, the song weaves through the heart, lifting the spirit like the radiant stars breaking through the pitch black of night. Each voice adds to the chorus, transforming pain into a powerful anthem of unity that is a testament to the enduring strength of the people. The song becomes a beacon of solace as it spread from glade to glen.

[Labradorit]

A new note from Tramahsthas finds its way to inform the Tel'Quessir of Doron Amar, written in Espruar runes with pine-green ink.

To those of Doron Amar,

An old call has reached me from my Gur-Caravan I traveled with. They seek my aid on a task, and I must answer. I will be away from our home here in the coming days and hope for safe travels to return as swiftly as my steps may allow.

May Angharradh’s light grace the nights and days until my return.

Sweet water and light laughter until we meet again,

Tramahsthas Auvrea’elrvis

((I will be away, as mentioned, from tomorrow—Thursday—until next Sunday.))

[Sundown]

In the twilight of the ancient woods, a new song born from both sorrow and hope begins to ripple through the realms. The haunting notes carry the weight of shared suffering—echoes of battles lost and loved ones gone—but within lies a spark of resilience. As weary fair folk gather, the song weaves through the heart, lifting the spirit like the radiant stars breaking through the pitch black of night. Each voice adds to the chorus, transforming pain into a powerful anthem of unity that is a testament to the enduring strength of the people. The song becomes a beacon of solace as it spread from glade to glen.

[...]

The song found its way to the ears of an elf who had settled under a large tree to meditate. She listened to the gentle changes in the song of the Glimmerwood. Even her companion, a large cat with white and gray fur, raised her head from her cozy place next to the elf.
A gentle and warm smile plays around the elf's features. In her hands she holds an amber in which an acorn seems to be enclosed.
Naer'eanque said her words devoutly to add them to the song.

Our roots reach deep.
Strong they have thrived.
Our roots touch eachother.
Connected they are.

Our roots give us strength.
Upright we will stand.
Our roots nourish us.
Soaked in pure hope

Our branches spread out.
Morning sun warm us.
Our branches will flourish.
Shining even in darkness.

Our branches will grow wide
May we gain wisdom.
Our branches grow strong
To protect the harmony.

Despite all differences and opinions.
Despite all that divides us.
Our roots are connected.
Our roots are strong.

Hear our songs, Lord of the Leaves.

[Sundown]

The ten elves / Support for the clergy (?)

Naer’eanque had only been a citizen of Doron Amar for about a Tenday.

Together with others, she had freed ten elves from captivity. They had been handed over to the clerics of the village, as far as she knew. She felt responsible for them and was keen to ensure that their emotional wounds could also be soothed, as their physical harm.

She dicided, that the time had come to introduce herself to the clergy of the village. She was primarily a druid, but she had experience in spiritual matters and in the art of healing. She also had the opurtunity to offer gifts of nature respectively Rillifane.

Naer'eanque was certainly at the beginning of her path, and no match to the experienced clerics oft he village.
But she hoped to make herself useful as a support, and maybe learning something.

She was also poised doing simple jobs. Depending on what you wanted to entrust her with.
Of course, she was always drawn out into the forest and couldn't pursue tasks all the time.

But she intended to put down roots in the Glimmerwood and Doron Amar.
And make herself to a useful part.

The opportunity seemed favourable to take the next step as a citizen….

[Sundown]

The Last Of The Ten Elves

A difficult night.
Many tears were cried.

[Labradorit]

A reaktion, an echo, a song for the people

Thoughtful and careful in his work, one could see Tramahsthas hanging the wind chimes and talismans near certain locations. In the canopy of the river. Near the council hall. At the shrine of the Seldarine. Around the balcony, the grand Angharradh statue, and the Jest as well. And of course, one would be found at the Angharradh temple. Those were the easy-to-see ones. And perhaps there might be more scattered around Doron Amar.

And as he started, Tramahsthas sang a lament, weaving the magic of sound together, to let the souls and spirits breathe and mourn as they should. And with every “placing,” there was the sound of light bells, rhythms of knocking wood, and little talismans for protection in the air. Oh Angharradh – Oh Sehanine. In their grace, he sings…

…A Lament for the Mourning.

"Leaves Whisper of Farewell"

Beneath the boughs of twilight gold,
Where sorrow lingers, soft and cold,
The trees bend low, their whispers weave,
Of hearts that stay, of souls that leave.

The stars above, a tender light,
Guide weary spirits through the night,
And though the shadow walks beside,
The dawn will come; the grief will bide.

O friends who fade like autumn’s breath,
Your roots run deep beyond this death,
The song of life will rise anew,
And we will walk again with you.

Take heart, dear kin, though tears may fall,
Each life we share uplifts us all,
And when the frost claims bough and leaf,
We hold the warmth beneath the grief.
So mourn we now, yet softly sing,
Of every joy their love did bring,
For though the winds may bear them far,
Their light endures—a guiding star.

This lament will be heard throughout Doron Amar at dawn and at dusk. It offers the mourning elves a solace, something for their spirits to "lean on." The sound of the wind chimes will be heard as long as the time of mourning dwells in Doron Amar.

[Labradorit]

A Winter Visit

Amid the stillness of winter, an unexpected yet welcome sight approached Doron Amar. A small group of Gur, adorned with colorful masks and a quiet reverence, arrived at the enclave, their boots crunching softly against the frost-covered paths. The delegation sought permission to visit their friend, Tramahsthas, as he recovers from a recent injury.

Their arrival was a moment of cultural exchange, with both elves and Gur sharing stories, laughter, and quiet understanding. The Gur children’s wide-eyed wonder brought warmth to the frost-bitten gardens, while the adults shared tokens of their travels. The elven citizens, hopefully intrigued by Tramahsthas’ stories of these travelers, joined the gathering with curiosity and hospitality or perhaps calm distance, creating a rare scene of unity under the season’s quiet embrace.

The visit served as a reminder that even in winter’s stillness, the bonds of friendship remain vibrant, crossing distances and differences alike.

[Sundown]

(OOC: Written before the event from yesterday)

Naer had just come out of the forest. A large cat with white-gray fur trotted beside her. Both looked at each other in puzzlement and then gazed in amazement at the many unknown people in masks.
At the same time, they were skeptical at the sight. However, Naer relaxed when she realized it was daytime. Nevertheless, she asked the forces of nature for the blessing “True seeing” to reassure herself.
She approached the Gur cautiously, but she was outside the settlement, like the Gur.
Like the dew on the leaves welcomes the morning sun,
I greet you wanderers as well.
She placed the palm of her right hand on her heart while touching her forehead with the index and middle fingers of her other hand, bowing her head in a gesture of greeting.

Your masks remind me of the one of the singer of the spirits and trees.
It will warm his heart to see you. In these times, that is a precious commodity.
Even though I am part of the village, I have no influence on the guards.
However, I feel no danger as see at you all, only the warmth that you carry within you.

If they are allowed in:
After the Gur had greeted Tramahsthas and the whirlwind of reunion had subsided, Naer'eanque joined the Gur. She was curious to talk to the different characters. Brenná, with her dryad-cat mask, had attracted the most attention. The first question to her was about the mask, and might break the ice.
Of course, the children each received a handful of nuts from Naer' himself – yes, even a squirrel in winter knew how to share. Meanwhile, the large off-white cat seemed overwhelmed, but the rather shy and gentle nature of the cat – and the certainty of having her friend nearby – allowed her to remain calm.

[InsaniD]

* A letter comes by a Nighting-Gale*
To whom it may concern;
I am Kalidorian a ranger of sorts seeking to have a meeting with the leaders of Doron. I would like to meet with the main and also the one head of the Mage's Tower. The matter is a bit dire but something will help you with getting rid of a demon of sorts. You may contact me at The Pheonix Lodge.
Your's Truly,
Kalidorian
* the letter is written in perfect elven scrypt and has a signet of a Nighting-Gale.

[Flights of Fantasy]

Echoing within the ancient Glimmerwood, a haunting lute melody floats through the air, its origins shrouded in mystery, sounding at unpredictable times of both night and day. The notes, delicate and ethereal, dance among the trees, reflecting the enchanting style of the elves. There are no lyrics or tales woven into the tune, allowing the minds of those fortunate enough to hear it to soar freely, crafting their own stories as the sweet sounds envelop the forest in a serene embrace.

[InsomnesCanis]

Rumors spread around the village that a few hours after dawn, a sun elf arrived at the gates of Doron Amar. Clad in mithril plate and gold-cloth vestments emblematic to the priesthood of Lady Goldheart.
At the gates he introduces himself as Hanali Celanil's hierophant; Heart's Shepherd Leni'thel of House Aelorothi.
He blessed them with wards, and asks for the changes in the village from years prior. Hearing of the new temple of Angharradh and the Triune Goddesses, the high priest walked there immediately. He introduced himself to the Lady Priestess, and asked one of the temple caretakers to please ask for audience with one of the councilors, at their convenience.
Until then he turns to prayer, and helps the local clergy with their tasks.

[Sundown]

The hunt for the golden nuts

On a relatively sunny day in late winter, the priestess of Rillifane offered the children of the village a game:

She told a story about a poor squirrel whose nuts had been stolen. She emphasized the story with grand gestures.
Yes, the thief – a snow leopard dragon – had probably scattered them all over the settlement!
What's more, the squirrel's precious golden nuts were guarded by the snow leopard dragon itself!

To get the golden nuts back and defeat the nasty cat dragon, a spell was needed! And to get that, all the other nuts had to be found first. It was apparently a custom of the cat dragons to leave puzzle clues...

Some of the puzzles led directly to a part of the spell. Other puzzles were more like tasks. And when they were completed, miraculously a part of the spell fell at their feet.
The priestess accompanied the children, but she also disappeared from time to time. Attentive observers could see a ginger cat casually following the children and pulling the strings.

The hunt began with a, as if by accident placed. walnut near the starting point. There was also a clue to the second nut, where the first Quest was also waiting. And so it began....

For example the children had to answer questions about plants or try to imitate animal sounds.

Answer simple general knowledge questions about Doron Amar.

Sorting cards with draconian symbols (which also worked with trial and error, but those who knew such symbols could boast about it).

Sorting scraps of cheerful classical poems in esprurar to sort, all of which dealt with the wonders and beauty of the forest or the sky.

Then there were certain flowers to paint or small paper dragons to fold (the priestess helped with folding).

Finally, they also had to puzzle out how to get a walnut out of a bottle with a wide bottleneck.

Perhaps adults who happened to pass by were also helpful in supporting the children with one or the other quest!


In the end, the priestess led the children to the snow leopard dragon. Together they then said the spell!
(The red-haired priestess made a funny noise, but it just seemed a little bit weird)

And Then! The spell unfolded his might and the nasty cat dragon then slunk away...beaten by the combined power of the children.
In the grass under the cat, they found the golden nuts! Marbles made of amber! Victory!

This had to be celebrated with sweet pastries! The priestess did not eat a bite and only drooled just a little at the sight of the sweet pieces.



Nut stealing, nasty snow leopard dragon during fierceful watch
(((AI generated))

[Oarthias]

Vanira's home has been steadily being built in the heart of the village. Nestled near the memorial of the Black Orc War, where the Glimmerlady has often been observed tending to its care in the early mornings. It also overlooks the shrine to the Seldarine, a testament to her devotion.

While the construction of her home was no secret, those aiding in its creation remained tight-lipped about the finer details. Specific requests, particularly regarding the interior, were left unspoken beyond those directly involved. The baths however, that has been spoken of with a bit of awe. That Vanira spared no expense and splurged on such a refuge, comes as no surprise to anyone.

Visitors that feel drawn to her porch found a warm welcome, a seat offered beneath the dappled light of the trees that shade the house. Tea is always served, accompanied by light conversation as Vanira, the Glimmerlady, fostered relationships within the village. Upon the table, without fail, a pie is placed -an unspoken gift from Rathal.

Among the frequent visitors to the porch was a bearded man already known to the village, yet now becoming a more familiar presence. Their discussions, though private, spoke of more than mere camaraderie—an alliance strengthening between two diplomatic minds.

For those who happened to glimpse inside when the door opened, chaos met their eyes. An uncharacteristic sight for an elf known for her meticulous order. Boxes cluttered the main floor, furnishings stacked high, creating quite the stark contrast. And yet, within this temporary disorder, the promise of a home took shape.

A new desk, commissioned from the craftsmen of Gond, arrived in the village. Its fine workmanship hinted at hidden mechanisms and clever designs. Those who had once worked beside her in the Council chambers in years past might recognize similar craftsmanship, but only a select few would truly know what secrets it held.

As the days passed, the hum of labor grew quieter. Fewer craftsmen remained, their work nearly done. The home of the Glimmerlady was almost complete. A home that meant far more then any other previous place in which she has rested her head. The was home, Mathaed Ivae, the Last Light.