Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

Maverick 40 wrote:Laisren hands a series of quilled letters to a few rangers and bids them to find three prominent figures of En Dharasha Everae:

"Lady Luthien,

You have built a rapport with the woman claiming to have seen the chieftain of the Orcish War Band? I need you to find out all the relevant information regarding this creature.

What distinguishing markings did it have?
How many were within it's vanguard?
What were it's actions during this encounter?

Please send word when you have gleaned this information. I will be using this information in the implementation of our response.

Fair winds,
Laisren Ua Tiernan
Ahk'aegis of Dharasha"

"Master Deacon

You have been here as long as this village and seem to know the ways of all Fey creatures of this forest. I beseech you now to go to the Hysbils, bring with you the ashes of one of our lost and bury it within the ground before their feet. Remind them that this village has spent it's centuries seeking to give back to the forest.

Tell them of our plight and what we are about to do. Tell them of the imbalance this growing number of Orcs represents. Tell them that we seek to show a the untied strength of this forest, that the Orcs will not take control of it. Then remind them that if we should fail and the Orcs upset the balance of this forest in their favor, they will scatter all of our ashes to the wind, til there is naught but dust.

Fair Winds,
Laisren Ua Tiernan
Ahk'aegis of Dharasha"

"Nai Kai and Mendel,

Nai's unique experience, to have been one with the wolves of the forests, will be needed now. I ask that you go to them, beseech their effort to aid in our keeping the balance of this forest against the Orcs. To explain to the Alpha of their pack, that the Orcs will not share this forest as we do, they will hunt and gorge until there is no other game to be had. Let them know that there can be no future for the wolf but to subordinate themselves to the Orcs in order to take the scraps from their kills. Let them know that we will honor their hunting as we always have and ask the Alpha for his aid in the coming fight. Return with the Alpha's response.

Fair winds,
Laisren Ua Tiernan
Ahk'aegis of Dharasha"

Caleb wrote:

Maverick 40 wrote: "Master Deacon

You have been here as long as this village and seem to know the ways of all Fey creatures of this forest. I beseech you now to go to the Hysbils, bring with you the ashes of one of our lost and bury it within the ground before their feet. Remind them that this village has spent it's centuries seeking to give back to the forest.

Tell them of our plight and what we are about to do. Tell them of the imbalance this growing number of Orcs represents. Tell them that we seek to show a the untied strength of this forest, that the Orcs will not take control of it. Then remind them that if we should fail and the Orcs upset the balance of this forest in their favor, they will scatter all of our ashes to the wind, til there is naught but dust.

Fair Winds,
Laisren Ua Tiernan
Ahk'aegis of Dharasha"

Deep within the Misty Forest, Deacon casts a long shadow in the moonlight, as he tries to call on the Fae in a circle of mushrooms. First he places a few nuggets of cheese within the circle. Then he begins to speak in Sylvan:



"Wee folk. This Deacon calls upon ye for aid. The forest and its inhabitants suffer much from the encroaching Orcs. Sooner or later their destructive manners will hurt ye also! They gnaw and bite at tree and bark! Is there a Sprite or kindred creature here willing to play a few pranks on the ugly Orcs, alongside this Deacon and thy Elven cousins? Let us steer them away from our green home. Aid those that have already given so much to this place."

Deacon reaches into a small bag and begins to scatter ashes in an arc around the circle.

SeedsOfDoubt wrote:* Nai, as requested, seeks out the Alpha or Leader of the wolf pack in the Misty Forest with Mendel by her side. Having been raised by wolves and other animals of the forest, this meeting would be well known to her...
Upon their meeting, growls and teeth baring is exchanged until Nai submits to the Alpha wolf of the pack. Keeping her head lower than the Alpha and her eyes cast downward she begins to speak to the dominant leader. *

" Nai comes tell them Orcs be trying take forest ... destroy all ... takes all food from thems wolfs ... thems orcs will kill wolfs pups, try be's alpha over him leader wolf... Thems try takes elfs village, kill elfs pack too... No can let them do this ... Elfs will fight them, Kills them Orcs and keeps Wolfs pack and foods safe... Return balance to forest. Will thems wolfs help elfs keep balance Nai asks? "

* Keeping her head low, she awaits the Alpha wolf's response. *



* After the discussion, Nimcarak, Nai's Arctic wolf companion approaches staying behind Nai. The Alpha would surely sence she is in heat and sniff the air all around. Nai would leave the two alone, walking away with a grin, knowing full well Nim is capable of chosing a mate for herself or not. *

DM Upholder wrote:Alleria Swiftwind tells Luthien the following information:

"I was scouting the forest around the village, when I have spotted a large group of orcs destroying a part of the forest in order to obtain food and wood for their encampment.
I managed to fell 3 of them with my bow, but then my position was compromised.
Two more orcs had approached me, and I had to revert to melee.
I managed to kill one of them with my blades, and wound the second, but then he pulled out a small vial containing a white liquid, uttered the words: "For Pukerat the Unclean!!!" and drank it.
That potion made his blows four times as strong, and quick, and I barely managed to dodge them.
The orc managed to hit me in my left leg with his axe, but suddenly started choking and showing some spasms, and, to my amazement fell dead in front of me...
Suddenly, I heard some voices behind me, and I rushed away to hide again.
Then, another large group of about 25 orcs arrived, and their leader, a huge orc claded in full-plate armor, was wielding a greatsword with a blade as black as an onyx.
The sword must have some vile magic to it, as the vegetation around the blade withered and died, when that orc leaned on his blade against the ground.
I heard some of his minions refer to him as "Pukerat", and I could hear him shouting commands to his orcs to search the area and find those who killed his orcs, and that "the day of doom will be upon the elves soon enough, now that they have a new weapon".
I decided it was much too dangerous for me to linger around there by myself, and made my slow, painful way into our village".

mrm3ntalist wrote:Mendel walks into the village accompanied by a Valen, a follower of the Black Archer. One of the rangers greets them and hands Mendel a letter from Laisren

Maverick 40 wrote: "Cor'vil,

You are to track down this Orchish encampment. You are not to engage them but rather draw up a map of entrances and exits from this camp. You are to watch there movements until you have figured out their patterns. When you have done this, report back with the map and the pattern of their movements.

If you see this chieftain, Pukerat the Unclean, I want you to scout out positions in which our archers might have clean lines of sight at his position in camp. This mission is of the greatest importance. Do not fail in this, for many lives rest upon the success of your scouting mission.

May your god keep you,
Laisren"

Mendel asked Valen for his help and the elf, having seen the village and talked briefly with Mendel about recent happenings accepted to help. They both moved silently into the forest, using trees, bushes and large rocks to hide and track the Orcs, making note of the Orc movements and hoping to spot their fearless chieftain, Pukerat.

// Valen and Mendel begin their journey in Misty Forest

Maverick 40 wrote:

Laisren rolls out the maps he has of the forest on the table within the Councilcaern. He stands opposite the brazier, as the fire's light flickers and dances over the painted skins in front of him. The urgency of this matter now growing ever more important with the knowledge that the Drow might be behind this Orc chieftain, Pukerat the Unclean. His thoughts begin to wander, "I need to get to that temple!", he says as he slams his fist on the table.

Suddenly he feels a presence within the room, his wife Saline. She enters the room in her full battle regalia, full plate, boots, bow and quiver. It was the first time he had seen her don her armor since her return and the sight chilled him slightly for knowing that she intended to take part in the coming battle. Once more, he knew there would be nothing he could say to change her mind. Her people had been slaughtered and beyond that, she had recently lost, or had stolen, a child from her very womb.

There was nothing on this plane stopping her from joining in the righteous slaughter of these Orc, all that stood before turning their attention to the Temple of the High Moor. She looks at him, but says nothing as she walks over to the table and begins to look at the maps. He looks at her and without any pleasantries exchanged between the couple, he begins to explain his plans for the coming battle.

"We believe their encampment has been moved here, to this high point where the streams pull down from the hills to form the river," he begins to explain indicating a point on the map with his finger. "Currently, they have a number in forces which seem equal to our own but no greater" he says with a slight hesitancy. He continues in an earnest and forthright tone, "Still, there has been a serum given to these creatures which bolsters their beastly strength and we are unaware of how this might effect the outcome of the battle".

"Their leader is an Orc named Pukerat the Unclean and it is this Orc which the others look to for inspiration it seems", he says turning his eyes away from the map point to stare into her large hazel orbs. "This is where we will strike, at the heart of them" he says in a determined tone. "I have sent out emissaries to the Fey of this Forest and the Wolf Packs whom now compete with the Boars the Orcs have brought with them. I have also sent out emissaries for food and to Doron Amar", he tells her.

"It seems they will all aid us in disposing of this threat and I aim to use them with devastating effect, not just to defeat this Orc Chieftain but to send a message to the rest...", he pauses before finishing in a deadly sincere tone, "....that we are the predators of this forest, not the prey!"

Laisren then points to a series of map locations, explaining his plan as he does. "Here, Master Deacon will lead the Fey whom will use their innate illusionary gifts to create a diversion that a large force than might sweep down on the Orcs encampment from the west", Laisren says while pointing to a location on the river west of the encampment. "This should draw their sentries to the western end of the camp, which I will have Master Deacon and the Fey fade back across this stream, drawing the Orcs further from their encampment. There, Nai Kai and her packs of wolves will be waiting in ambush", Laisren says with small grin upon his face and the fire's light gleaming within his eye.

"Once the wolf packs have joined the battle, the Fey will turn from their retreat and join the wolves in battle on the western front," Laisren states while moving his finger across the map to a point southeast of the Orcish encampment. He then explains, "Once the battle on the Western front has begun and the Orcish sentries distracted, Master Deacon and Nai Kai will leaf jump to this point where the combined forces of Wood and Wild Elven Rangers will be waiting".

"You see, while they possess the High Ground and our larger combined force of elves will need to move, over land, up hill to reach their camp but with the Orcish sentries and forces distracted to the west, we might still have the chance to take them by surprise," he explains. "I will leave Lady Luthien in charge of the Dharashan forces but you may choose the leader of your own forces Saline.....", Laisren says looking at his wife in the hopes that she will differ this privilege to another of her chieftains but he already knows the answer in her silence.

"Very well....", he says in acknowledgment before continuing. "This is where the battle will be won", his finger moves to a point just outside the Orcish encampment along a ridge forest growth. "Here, I along with Cor'vil Mendel, Shynatavayas and one other Black Archer named Valen will lie in wait", he tells her. "This sight overlooks the Chieftains tent and from here, we hope to over take this Pukerat and his vanguard when they look to enter the battle", he says in a determined voice.

"If we might catch him alone, or with his simple vanguard while the rest of the Orcish forces fight a battle on two different fronts, we can cut off the head of this snake", he says gritting his teeth and staring directly into the encampment of the Orcs. "I will take the head of this snake to his people that they might see for themselves the futility of their actions and provide them a single ultimatum", he turns from the map to look Saline earnestly within her eyes as if she were the people for whom he were to be speaking. "Go now, take your arms, go by way of the High Moor passage and we will see you safely from this forest.....", he tells Saline before finishing, "do not, and you will join Pukerat the Unclean in a failure before your gods."

Saline simply stared back into the eyes of her husband, the longest glance they had held since they had both returned to the village. She placed a hand upon his resting on the table. They stared into each others for a moment before Laisren took his free hand to place back upon hers but it only rested there for a moment before she broke the glance, took back her hand and moved slowly for the door. She paused there for a moment as he watched her intently, then she exited.

He beat his fist back down upon the table, dropped his cowled head, closed his eyes and let out a growl. When he opened his eyes once more, he was not staring at the Orcish encampment but hundreds of leagues away into the High Moor. He was staring at the temple, he was staring with all his fury at the structure that now represented all the love he lost in his life. He looked back to the door, composed himself, walked around the table and stared into the fire..........

beneviolent wrote:It was quiet in the glen and it was late, close to dawn. The moon was dropping behind a silhouetted duskwood. A few rays of moonlight dappled the glen below. Her hands clasped prayerfully together Elethineth bowed head pressed her thumbs and forefinger against her forehead. Her reverie complete she stood unmoving not wanting to disturb the raptures of the others. Gathered around the glen an unusual number of T'Quessir had prayed in homage to kin and the Seldarine.

Care and concern were evident in their hushed tones as dawn approached and they quietly walked among the village. Elethineth inhaled, long and softly. She had no further words or counsel to those who had sought the comfort of the prayers she had offered them. The time had come to steel their hearts and face the prospect of kin lost to war. The set of their jaw and curt words indicated that their thoughts followed the trails their kin had set forth on to make war upon the Orc.

Taking a cue from their posture Elethineth cast her mind from the now to the distant past. Eons separated the two points in time, she thought, but history between had a constant. The struggle pitted the love and honor of beauty and peace against the minions of the Savage God. Given the blessings, graces, and beneficence of the Seldarine, the T'quessir, had stood proudly in eternal conflict with the Beasts and Ravagers of Nature.

The time has come for destiny to claim us, she thought, the destiny of serving their Creator in battle.

Some would fall no doubt. The village would recoil in sadness, grief, and pride. Her duties would begin when when the village needed her most.

"Corellon be proud. We are EN Dharasha Everae, the Elves of Destiny,” rang in her head.

Maverick 40 wrote:

A wood elven Bard sets up in front the Dala'Haera and begins to tune his loot as Wood Elven Rangers take up their bows and gather their supplies. The Wild Elven warriors as well can be seen saying their goodbyes to their loved ones as the Bard begins to strum a rhythm. The groups of elves now having gathered their supplies and kissed their loved ones goodbye, line up in front of Elder Nylas. The bard begins to sing as the Elder administers a thick paste made from burnt palm ash in the sign of a circle and triangle upon each of their foreheads. The melody at first sad and melancholic begins to grow as each elf passed.

By the end, the small battalion of elves had entered the forest and the families remained to listen to the Bard as he finished his song. Tears fell from some of these eyes, some teeth grit in anger but none were left unmoved. The elves had grown tired but they would not loose their resolve. Many of them had been through this before and they knew many shall go through it again. The only hope, is that their love for those in harms way is felt both by those whom might return and those who would not........

Displacer wrote:

Andariel stepped forth from the cottage sufficiently contented with the progression of the half blood Kerym's progress and equally contented to be finishing off the last bottle of dandelion wine. As he leaned against the doorway, a slight guilt began to plague his mind when he stared at the empty bottle within his right hand. He could not tell if his fingers were stained red from the wine, or from the blood of the young elves he now had to care for. "Gods...", he mumbled to himself when he heard a sound coming from the Dala'haera.

He staggered slightly toward the sound, passing the beautiful Elder Silverleaf, her steadfast guards nearby and then by the mushroom house of the fey being Deacon. The sounds grew louder until he could hear the strumming of lutes and the singing of song. When he walked up the steps he saw where there was once but one wood elven bard, now there were several. Wood, Moon, Gold and Wild elven bards gathered with their different dress and customs, all singing in harmony a beautiful tune.

There was a group of elves, villigers, Dharashans and High Moor Elves already gathered before the bards. When the chorus came, they all began to sing along. Suddenly Andariel was amongst them, singing and feeling the arms of elves he hadn't yet come to know, holding him and smiling. He offered one moon elven girl his goblet and she drank while smiling back to him before she joined once more into the chorus.

"Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah......"

They sang, they danced and they embraced each other in the pale of the night. Andariel had forgotten all his concerns for he knew that at this moment and in spite of it everything, the All Father was looking down to smile down on them. Then the lead bard, a moon elf, sang his last hymn and silence rained once more. All looking down in a sign of submission to the moment.

The village had been protected and their home was now for the moment safe but each knew that many of their loved ones were out there now in harms way, behind the Orcish lines. He did not say it, so much as he felt it, "Casin Cu Calas, Gisae Tel'andor!" he said in elvish and the crowd roared back "Casin Cu Calas!". The band of bards struck up once more and Andariel began to stagger back to the cottage, content to know that was to happen was the All Father's will now but that now matter what travesty might befall them, his people would undertake it together.

((Translation: "Casin Cu Calas, Gisae Tel'vandor" = Honor in Battle Defenders of the Forest

TheKai wrote:Kaikinnion stood aside from the festivities, taking it all in.

The energy of the gathered swept him up and over, making him smile and feeling as if he was back on the isle across the sea. The large gathering made his eyes water as if this was the sight he waited to see since arriving to this Sword Coast region.

The light of the stars and moon glittered off his silver circlet and armor, casting him in a soft glow. Still he remained on the fringe, smiling to passerby and nodding softly, uttering quiet prayers of safety for each he acknowledged and the rest.

"These are Tel'Quessir" he thought. This is why I came here.

As the music died down, Kai sat on the grass crosslegged, watching to ensure none were too inebriated to cause themselves or any other harm. He heard the cry of "Casin Cu Calas, Gisae Tel'andor!" and smiled and shouted the same. The problems of tomorrow can wait just a bit longer...

beneviolent wrote:It was quiet in the glen and it was late, close to dawn. The moon was dropping behind a silhouetted duskwood. A few rays of moonlight dappled the glen below. Her hands clasped prayerfully together Elethineth bowed head pressed her thumbs and forefinger against her forehead. Her reverie complete she stood unmoving not wanting to disturb the raptures of the others. Gathered around the glen an unusual number of T'Quessir had prayed in homage to kin and the Seldarine.

Care and concern were evident in their hushed tones as dawn approached and they quietly walked among the village. Elethineth inhaled, long and softly. She had no further words or counsel to those who had sought the comfort of the prayers she had offered them. The time had come to steel their hearts and face the prospect of kin lost to war. The set of their jaw and curt words indicated that their thoughts followed the trails their kin had set forth on to make war upon the Orc.

Taking a cue from their posture Elethineth cast her mind from the now to the distant past. Eons separated the two points in time, she thought, but history between had a constant. The struggle pitted the love and honor of beauty and peace against the minions of the Savage God. Given the blessings, graces, and beneficence of the Seldarine, the T'quessir, had stood proudly in eternal conflict with the Beasts and Ravagers of Nature.

The time has come for destiny to claim us, she thought, the destiny of serving their Creator in battle.

Some would fall no doubt. The village would recoil in sadness, grief, and pride. Her duties would begin when when the village needed her most.

"Corellon be proud. We are En Dharasha Everae, the Elves of Destiny,” rang in her head.

TheKai wrote:Kai walked among the elves of the village, sadness clearly showing on his face. The wood elven villagers along with the wild elf refugees clearly was clear evidence of the hardships the village is enduring with the war looming over their heads.

It broke his heart when, in mid stride, a young wild elf child hastily ran up to him, tears in her eyes and dirty. “Elder, when will our Corellon come and help us? When will the Seldarine protect us?” Kai fought back tears and looked off in the distance for a moment. Forcing a warm smile on his face, he turned to the child and softly whispered, “The Protector is already with us, young one. In time, you shall see.” Producing an apple from his pack, he handed it to her which she gleefully gorged into. He patted her on the head and continued his roaming of the village.

The village was in depression. Every citizen he looked to, he saw hope fading. A hungry mouth here, a look of loss there, prayers being fervently conducted. It was something he had never experienced on the Green Isle.

And what of Evermeet? Why do they not send assistance? The Retreat is under way, but surely I am not the only who can return. Could it be I am that?

I see now why I was sent here. The elder priest said it was for me to learn and grow, but could it have been more than that? What did he know that I didn’t? This was the course destined for me all along. Corellon willed it and now I am here. And then there was the promotion from the Cormiira. Adoness is now his title. Peacekeeper. He glanced at the beautiful longsword she had gifted him. He kept it tied to the left side of hip, hanging there ceremoniously as a reminder of hope for himself.

Steeling himself for a moment, he thought long and hard, thinking of the trials to come, the depression suppressing the village and the real threat looming over everyone’s heads.

I will not live lavishly like those on the isle…not when so many need my help and attention. I shall tend to the villagers and the refugees and those coming back from skirmishes injured. I will let the warriors fight and I will do my part here in the village. The faith is much needed right now, and I intend to ensure they do not lose hope in the Seldarine, in Corellon.

With that he headed back to the makeshift medical station, grabbed more bandages, food and healing salve and made his back to the refugees, attempting to bring hope and healing to all he could.

Displacer wrote:

Celundel helped drag the disgusting Orc up the steps, its pig nosed face staring back and its eyes rolling up as its head hit each step going up to the Dala'Haera. This one just the last bold beast to attack the village in the rush of rage from their lust for blood. The rest were content to beat their drums and snort their war cries from the ridge up the Glade. So, this one would be the example for which he would use to show these outsiders what must be done as a Gisae Tel'vandor of this, his people's ancient wood.

Still, he did not relish what was to come next and he felt already the contents of his stomach become uneasy just at the thought. But, he knew he must steel himself for what must be done as he threw the first ape beast's body upon the cloth laid upon the marble. He looked at the woman Elanaele, she was too pretty for this work. She wasn't made for this he thought as he lit the fire and took out his knife, his skinning knife, and held it over the fire just long enough to heat it.

He kept his eyes looking into hers as he kicked the beast over onto its stomach and tore it's chain mail off it's back. He felt the first convulsion but he hid it well while he took his eyes off her to stare at his work. He pulled his hood up, pulled its mask up to cover his nose and mouth, "These people, they don't belong here, they don't know what it takes..", he thought in anger as he slide the blade under the skin at the base this dead beasts neck. The second convulsion came as he tasted the turnips he last ate once more, causing him to pause.

He did not pause long, for he was being watched and he would not hesitate under their gaze, he slid the knife around the creatures shoulders, down its side to the base of its back and up the other side to end at the point from which he began. "Now was the tough part", he thought as he turned to gaze his golden eyes up at the straw haired moon elf. She looked unmoved he thought but not for long as he tore with one mighty tug, the skin from off the creature's tendons and sinew.

He grimaced hearing the tearing sound but he did not waver, he held the skin up before him for her to see as he stood. He threw the skin off to the side and then grabbed the other body and threw it on the cloth. He tore down his mask and with a slight twinge of resentment in his voice, "Now, tis your turn, do just as you had seen", he told her while rinsing the blade and putting it back in the fire. The woman walked over to him, took the blade from the fire after a moment and asked him, "For what purpose do we do this?"

"The beast's sense of scent", he told her waiting for her to answer, expecting she wouldn't. "The pelt will be worn to cloak you as you move amongst them", he explained to her. "If they should smell elf, they would take to alarm, so we do as we must to cloak our movements from their terrible senses and protect our Rangers who scout them", he tells her with his eyes a bit tense with distaste, more so to his own unease than her presence. These outsiders, they haven't the stone to do what must be done he thought as he stared at her.

"I see", is all she retorted as she knelt over the second beast, tore its chainmail, slid the blade into the base of its neck and proceeded to slide it around the creatures back. Celundel could hardly believe his eyes and it seemed he would never be rid the taste of turnips this day, though he would not loose them either. Elanaele stood, held the pelt of the dead beast up before him. "Like this?", she asked him in a somewhat mocking playful tone.

Celundel nodded in deference. It seems he was wrong and he knew it, though this seemed to give him greater comfort than insecurity for the days to come..........

The two figures entered the cave, leaving the cold of the mountain tops for the almost unnatural, damp warmth of the underground complex.
The two moved with the typical grace of their people, but were otherwise very different: the brown-skinned, dark green-clad one knelt to inspect tracks with a keen eye and sniffed the air confidently, clearly in his element; the other, black robed, his complexion golden and his hair long and blonde, had his confidence and serene expression belied by an almost hesitant attitude, which did not escape his alert brother.

"I would also avoid to disturb them if I could. But we have a mission to complete, and it's vital. We come here meaning no harm, and we will offer them a peaceful trade. There is enough water for everyone...We will not spill their blood if we can help it". The Sun elf nodded to his companion, freeing his mind from every thought and emotion but their objective and seizing the Weave, ready to channel.

His companion's offer of peace was greeted by an array of devastating spells from their shamans, which shook the ground and collapsed part of the entrance's ceiling. The Wood Elven Ranger sidestepped them with a sadness in his eyes, moving just enough to get out of harm's way, almost dancing. As he raised an eyebrow in disbelief at his companion's lightning reflexes, the Wizard raised his black mantle as his defensive wards absorbed the blunt of the attack, transforming a deadly assault into a minor wound to his arm.

So, they wanted a battle? Then they would have one. He wove a Zeal invocation (it had many names through ages...Alacrity...Zeal...many he could not remember. He idly thought as he cast it that on the Coast it was probably known as Haste) and several disabling spells as his formidable companion rained death on the enemies with his arrows, producing a sword which he wielded with equal mastery to dispatch those unlucky enough to survive 'till close combat.

On and on they advanced, like a killing wall of steel and arcane fire, obliterating their enemies without slowing down, until they reached the Spring, their objective. "We should get as many bottles as we can carry", said Celundel "we will n-" and he suddenly stopped, listening. Kael opened his mouth, but he was instantly silenced by the hunter's wide-eyes stare.

He produced a "3" with his fingers, and pointed towards the side room close by. He gestured to Kael to fill in the bottles as he was taking care of the advancing lizards, but the Archmage had seen too many friends die in vain, killed by a lucky shot from outnumbering foes, and he knew in this cave it was not so easy to find room to dodge, or a chance to vanish in plain sight, so he followed at a safe distance.

The chieftain and his retinue were definitely prepared to receive them. The two elves were met by a hail of spells and whirling axes: as Celundel parried, dodged, rolled and counterattacked, he quickly found himself fighting with his back against a side wall. Without his agility to compensate for the Lizardmen's brute force, the Ranger had to hold on to every scrap of his technique and determination to avoid his enemies' furious attacks.

Kael stilled his surging fury, as he embraced the Weave once more. He uttered a few words in the arcane language of magic, and wove a Sightblinder spell covering the whole cave (Blinding Flash...Sunburst...as usual with very ancient weaves, the spell was known with many names). He burned the two bodyguard's eyes, leaving them to scream in pain and move aimlessly across the room, but the Chieftain was an expert magician, and averted his stare just in time to avoid most of the effect.

Celundel, however, needed no more of an opening than that, and in a heartbeat he sliced both the warriors' throats in one fluid movement of his dancing blade, and gained some space as he dodged under the Chieftain's axe's deadly arc, slicing deep into his right leg in the process. His patience now over, Kael drew more from the Weave: Learn how fragile you are he thought, as he uttered the words of power: "Voidal Pyroclasm". The meteor strike, shaped to hit exactly the chieftain's location, was a blast of raging, destructive fury, masterfully shaped to leave the cave and Celundel unscathed. When the smoke dissipated, there was no sign of the chieftain, burned into ashes or pounded to a material point. Probably both.

As the ranger readied himself to travel by plant back to Darasha with their prize, the Arch Wizard could not help but notice the look of concern in his companion's eyes. Concern for his powers, for the imbalance they could bring to the forest. Concern for the ease with which he destroyed, killed with it. As Celundel disappeared into a tree, he wove a simple concealing weave, ready to ghostwalk back to town. He was not too tired to teleport, but he could use the time to think. As much as he tried, he could not stop hearing those words, a whisper inside his mind. Kor'Vain. Kor'vain.

Kor'Vain...[/quote]

Maverick 40 wrote:Men and women, they came and they went between the gates of the village. First cleanly provisioned and prepared, only to return bloodied, eyes widened, or dead. The Wood Elven Rangers of the village patched their wounds and fletched their arrows in preparation to return to the field as the Wild Elven Shamans saw to those too wounded to continue.

The dark hooded Moon Elf walked silently through the masses, keenly watching the scene of battle unfold before him. He had seen it before and never did he come to fully be at ease with it. Could anyone, he imagined. His head held somewhat low, a glint from his eye made of glass was all that was visible beneath his hood when the suns rays shown through the canopy. His hands folded behind his back, he walked near as an apparition between the pulsing sea of elves.

That was when he saw them as he looked up from the village, the elves he once swore an oath in a different life, those of the south now come to honor their pact of kinship. There stood the Captain, as he was now called by all. His own professed brother by marriage and another of his number, a dark complected female warrior. They had stood upon the Dala'Haera having entered in through the portal of ancient stone. The dark hooded moon elf began to walk toward them, the first sign of hope he had in days, when he heard the first chord struck. It came from a wild elf strumming a lute solemnly, sitting and staring at him from within the doorway of one of the cottages.

The wild elf stared at him malevolently as he continued strum. "Wolves wait at your door, for your permission....", the bard began to sing in elven. The bard's voice raspy and gruff in it's tone made this elf whom had taken the title Ahk'aegis give pause. He watched this bard and his eye began to tighten, returning the gaze of the bard when he heard the verse to come. "Surprise, they took your gold, they ate your kids....", the bard continued in a louder tone for others to hear while he continued to stare at the Ahk'aegis.

The moon elf's teeth began to grit, his face began to heat and his jaw clinch. "Because you are a god damn fool, but I love you!", the bard sang but now he looked to those gathered. The moon elf knew what this bard was attempting. It was beyond his ability to reason. Who was this bastard, is he one of them, an agent sent......, he thought to himself as his teeth ground and scarred face began to twist. The moon elf strode towards the bard, his muscles tensed and his crystal blue eye now glinting a fire as much as his left made of glass did reflect the sun.

He came to stand before the bard just as he finished his song, now staring back at the moon elf once more with malevolence. The Ahk'aegis stood there with the tension of a chord pulled to the point of breaking. That was when the Wild Elven bard looked down on spit on the boots of the Aegis, then stared back up in defiance. There was now a crowd gathered. Some wood elven women gasped, men on both sides took up their arms slowly, both Wild Elven and Dharashan.....

The Aegis simply stood there, imperceptibly shaking in anger. He began to reach between the folds of his robes when a shout went out, "LAISREN!!!.....". He heard the name of his former life called from the woman known as his wife, the Za'ary of the Wild Elven people, Saline Ua Tiernan. Without a thought he put up his free hand in the direction of the call, as silence now reigned over the camp. He knew she was watching him, he knew she was praying and it was this that brought him back from the brink.......

This man who sat before him could be one of the agents of whom took this woman, their Queen, to perform an unspeakable act. The moon elf knew that with one swipe he might remove this agent from this camp forever but he also did not know the truth and here this woman, his confessed wife was to plead on this bard's behalf. Perhaps, she pleaded on both their behalf, for the chaos that was to ensue might consume the whole of this camp. He thought of this all instantly, as he continued to hold his free hand up and the other within the folds of his robes.

Then, in a blinding speed, he tore free his hand from his robes. Wild Elves and Dharashans alike grasped their weapons as the bard slightly flinched before him, blinking his eyes. When the bard reopened his eyes he saw the Ahk'aegis holding up a cloth rag before him. The dark hooded figure then bent down to wipe off his own sullen boots. He then leaned over to the bard sitting on his stool, placed the rag within the folds of the bards clothing and whispered gently into his ear. "I have heard you and now you may rest assured, my response will go unheard....", is all he told the bard as he leaned back, fire still in his eye but stoic in posture.

Then the Ahk'aegis spoke in a loud voice looking around. "Now, enough of these somber songs, play something up beat for all to dance!", he said for all to hear while staring at the bard. The Aegis then takes out a gold coin, tosses it down at the feet of the bard and walks off toward the sky'way place with his arms folded behind him. He passed by his wife as he began to walk up the steps, a sad look upon her face, she nodded to him.

He stood before the fire of the hall the whole of the night, receiving word of the efforts but the fire within his soul burned greater........

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

PiaMango wrote:Laisren brought in company with him two elves of Doron Amar and another brute of an elf an unfamiliar face to all to the village. The gruff elf stands tall for elven standards, but still would been seen as stocky due to her immense girth. Removing her gore soaked gloves her nose seems to take control of her face and is often caught on the many scents that flow about the village. She scorns at any who apply more than a light perfume.
After speaking among the elves for a time she leaves them to enter the village. She tries to avoid direct eye contact with the elves of the village but is sometimes caught staring blankly at those about the village, lost in her nose.
She distances herself from the village, searching for a spot to herself down stream. There her true strength can be seen as she strips down from her battle weathered armor into a light cloth. Her biceps bulge, glistening with sweat as they breathe freely and as she stretches her arms. Some may be impressed by the sight, many would find such a sight grotesque. Any hint of feminine curves have been all but been chiseled down and replaced by pure and raw strength.
Should any journey down the stream they may encounter Mai in the middle of what seems to be yoga. Despite her monstrous size she seems to perform it with grace. At other times grunts can be heard from her as she challenges herself to dead lift larger and larger boulders. As she reaches a boulder approximately two feet in diameter a roar bellows out echoing over the village, those who rushed to investigate would see a giant dire bear standing over 11 feet tall raising a boulder over its head. The ground thuds as it throws the boulder down to its feet. It quickly glances about and fixed upon another boulder over three times in size of the other neglecting those about watching it. It struggles bellowing weaker roars as it struggles with its grip on the great rock. The dire bear would shrug off any advances by elven folk, it seems fixated on the rock with bloodshot eyes. The rock only manages to rise a few inches before thudding ground. It is shortly followed by a second thud as the dire bear flomps down next to the rock. Within a few moments in its place lies Mai on her side grinning staring off into the woods seeming to nothing with a wild look, panting heavily.
At other times she is seen cleaning her armor and shield vigorously with pumice stone among other things. Often sniffing at it with a frown as scents still linger upon them. She seems very well experienced in this act, it has become a routine for her.
Many elves devote themselves to the perfection of something, whether it be mastery of an art, arcane magic, service to their chosen deity. Mai has devoted herself and her body to the complete eradication of the orcen kinds that plague forests to no end. Some may look down upon Mai, thinking she a beast lost in her own hatred, or maybe simply a weapon to put for war. Mai does her best to show she does not care about what others think of her. This elf does not count its age in years or winters past but in the lives of orcen kind her hands have been the death to. She remembers each and every that have fallen to her hands, each a blissful memory to her. As such she might still be considered still young by elven standards, it seems over the following days she will be growing far, far older.

TheKai wrote:Kai sat on the mossy ground within the village. Surrounding him were various herbs, remedies and salves in numerous piles. On his right, stacked tall was the finished product of his efforts: healing bundles that could cure any variety of ailments, from poisons and disease to basic and advanced treatment of wounds. On his left sat tiny vials filled with enchanted liquid to produce various enchantments for distribution among the villagers and warriors. Next to that lay various scrolls looped with cord: some to remove curses that may come, heal rangers fully, others to grant various protections and others still to call someone from Arvandor should they fall in the days ahead. Kai shuddered at the thought.

He had been working through the long hours of the night, Corellon’s stars shining above him and Sehanine smiling at him. The fear and worry drove him through the night. The warriors would need these in the coming days. He had no time for rest. He raised his palms in front of him, willing the holy might of Corellon through his body and he smiled as his hands glowed with a soft blue light. The healing power of the Protector. The First of the Seldarine was with him and he smiled and beamed at the thought.

But this must happen. For too long our People have suffered here. It is now or never, for better or worse. En Dharasha Everae shall prevail Corellon willing, and will bring this village to the peace that it long deserves.

Looking around at the quiet village, the rangers standing watch so stoic and firm, their eyes scanning the tree lines looking for any sign of danger or treachery. The refugees sleeping huddled up. All this brought sadness to his eyes. Stopping what he was doing, he grasped his small, Crescent Moon symbol in both hands and spoke a fervent prayer:

“Protector,
Be with us in might, now and in the days to come.
Grant us your wisdom to pierce the darkness.
Grant us your skill to wield against our most hated enemy.
Grant us your grace to dodge the weapons of the fell forces looming over us.
Let arrows of the Great Archer fly true and strike where it is needed!
Let the beauty of Lady Goldheart blind our enemies!
Let the weather of the Winged Mother favor us and hinder them!
Let the cunning of the Trickster infuse our rangers!
Let the rage of the Lone Wolf enhance our blows!
Let the sight of the Lifegiver see us through!
Let the Leaflord call the woods to our aid!
Let the drive and determination of the Black Archer fuel us!
And let the Lady of Dreams come for those who fall in battle and see them safe!
I beseech you, First of the Seldarine, please…aid us.”

Sitting there, eyes closed, tear lets in his eyes, he prayed for hours on end. Prayed for the warriors, and the wounded, the children and elders, the woodlands and those whom dwelled within it. He even offered a prayer to Titania asking for her Fey to succeed.

In his heart, in his mind, in his soul, with all his being…he prayed. Never in his life, has he been so worried.

Invoker wrote:Kael stood in the centre of the rooms the kind people of Darasha had granted him. His people, now, and his quarters...home. He looked around as the magic energy of his last spell waned, his gaze taking in the objects of his attention for the last few candlemarks: small travel books, scrolls, potions, freshly rune-engraved wands, a specific combat battle-robe... The battle was upon them, and he intended to be ready.

Not long ago, he would have described himself as peaceful. It was baffling how easily a few decades, a handful of years, at time even a single moment of violence could change an individual despite centuries of relative peace behind him. With his preparations all but completed, he allowed his mind to drift off, and immediately regretted it. Memories of Kalinor razed, of his family and friends turned into ashes clawed at him, wiping every scrap of serenity he had managed to muster. As his hands gripped into tight fists, mirrors shattered, vials broke and plates and goblets smashed against the walls before he could void his mind and will himself into calmly releasing the Power. As a small Air Elemental (the size of a gentle breeze, really) began cleaning the mess, he wove a last ward upon his wargear as he walked out, aiming for the woods.

"This will not be another Kalinor. I will not let you harm my people again. You should have killed Kael when you had the chance...Now, face Kor'Vain, the War Wizard"



He told himself he was going to show himself to the enemy stragglers and scouts to avoid their suspicions at the sudden calm. He told himself he could use some practice, with the final battle closing in. But deep down, he knew the truth...

The first orc, 2.5 meters of muscles and anger, exploded in a whirlwind of fire ten steps from him. Eyes burning with a sinister light fueled by the Power filling him and a raging fury, the Archmage did not even slow his pace as he gestured with his right hand and whispered "Death Gate", sending the lower half of an orc shaman to another dimension while the upper half, still unaware of his death, watched him in a stupor as he fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood. Contemporarily, he raised his left palm as several crossbow bolts stopped mid-air just a breath away from him. "You dare fight me? If I were any less illuminated, I would say such stupidity warrants extinction..." as the sniping hunters were trying to relocate, they were reached by merciless, devastating weaves shaped carefully to affect the monsters, but leave the trees, the animals and every single blade of grass untouched: "Acid Inferno", and a corrosive storm reached its targets with unerring proficiency..."Aureal Incapacitator", a blinding flash who sent the bleeding-eyed greenskins screaming on their knees..."Voidal Pyroclasm", a meteor shower canceling the savages from existence, and leaving the landscape untouched as if nobody had ever been there...

"It has begun" he thought, as he performed weave after weave. They did not know yet, but death was coming for them on dark wings and swift hooves, arms held outstretched...

mrm3ntalist wrote:For the past week, Mendel has been rarely seen inside the village. He was out in the forest, patrolling and tracking the Orcs movements. Now, the time has come, the time to fight the Orcs and drive them away from the village. He got Nai and they both travelled to FAI where the bought supplies to aid them in the war - mainly arrows, healing kits and healing potions.



Having gotten their supplies they Traveled by Plant back to Misty Forest. Once there, they left the supplies to the Dala'Haera so that they will be distributed to the elves. Mendel and Nai, made their way to the Rillifane Rallathil's temple and while waiting for the rest to join, they prayed for them, their village, their friends and families...

Yakgnath, was awaken by the heavy thud which rattled his brain and stung his skull. He jumped up from the forest floor as missiles flew by him. "Muck orc, getz upz!!!", he yelled to the other sentry still sleeping while he grabbed his own spear and took cover himself. Bashag, the other sentry lazily yawned, his lower tusks broad and jagged, jutted out from his mouth as his tongue rolled out. That was when Yakgnath saw what was being slung, when a medium sized rock collided with Bashag's mouth, slicing open his tongue and cracking off a piece of tusk.

Bashag let out a terrible cry. Yakgnath yelled back to him, "Wez under attack, I go tell high Orc Mofufu!!",and fled his companion while he still under a barrage of rocks. Yakgnath turned once around as he bound out of his foxhole and onto the forest floor. What he saw did not make sense to him, dozens and dozens of goat people and pixies all aiming for he and his fellow sentry. He bound with great strides back for the camp, hoping the death of his companion might slow his pursuers just a bit.

He burst forth from the brush above the Orcish camp without slowing, nearly trampling one of the Orcish cubs in his path to the seat of the High Warrior Mofufu. Mofufu sat their in his blood stained armor, his giant jagged axe beside. His newly crowned forest thrown, that of an old tree now turned to a stump and further bored out to make a seat for the large Orc Warrior. "Great Mofufu, great Mofufu, we bez under attack!!", Yakgnath yelled as he came to a halt before the large warrior. Mofufu lazily picked up his helm, the skull of a Manticore which he took from their ancestral home within the High Moor. The manticore's dried skin was left ragged and rotting on the skull bone. He placed the skull over his scarred face so that only his eyes peered out through the bone.
"The elfs, we will crush them...", he said while beginning to stretch his broad frame, his sinew rippling through his thick hide and his mucles bulged. "No, no...", Yakgnath began and then continued to plead hysterically, "....Goatzmen, Pixie both, large war party....". He was then customarily cut off as Mofufu picked up his large two handed war axe, swung it above his head and then hurled it down toward Yakgnath's bare feet. Yakgnath jumped back just in time, bumping into Mofufus large guards whom he had not noticed were now standing behind him. Yakgnath was brought to an abrupt and jarring stop. "WOOOT!?!?", Mofufu roared climbing down towards Yakgnath to grab him by the throat, lifting Yakgnath two feet off the ground to stare the larger Orc in the eyes.

"Ack, gu...gu..", was all Yakgnath could respond as his feet kicked and his clawed hands frantically attempted to ease the grip that was slowly choking him to death. "You, come ere fleeing from Goatzmen and Fairies....", Mofufu continued and his grip tightened. Nothing but wheezing was returned from Yakgnath as his larynx was slowly being crushed. Then suddenly and abruptly Mofufu let him go to drop before his feet. Yakgnath gasped and then quickly scurried back from Mofufu on all fours to avoid further abuse but Mofufu did not pursue him.

"Youz is leader of sentries, no?", Mofufu asked Yagnath, his skull helm cocking to the side as he looked down at Yakgnath. Yakgnath's first response was a slight huff but no sound came from him. Then he coughed, collected himself and said meekly, "ye...yes..gre..great Mo..Mofufu..". "THEN GO GET YOUR SCOUTS, SLAY THE GOATMEN AND PIXIES BOTH....", Mofufu roared in retort as Yakgnath already turned to run and get his scouts. "PURSUE THEM TILL EACH AND EVERY IS DEAD. SMEAR THEIR BLOOD ACROSS ALL THE BRUSH OF THIS FOREST TO SHOW THESE WEAK FOREST CREATURES WHAT IS OURS!!!", Yakgnath could here Mofufu's roaring slowly dissipate with distance he was desperately attempting to put between them.

He could hear the shouts and snorts of all the Mofufu's Orc Warriors in response. Their blood rage was building and Yakgnath knew he must see done what Mofufu wanted or that rage would call for his own blood in it's stead. He found the nearest drum at the western edge of the camp and Yakgnath beat it in the rhythm of own tribes war song. Soon, near two dozen of warriors were upon him and it was now time for him to give the Orders. His voice returned, he screeched and beat his chest, building up his own fury, as his sentries snorted in response around him.

Soon they all set forth, spear and axe in hand toward the site of Yagnath's attack. When he got there, Bashag lay their bleeding out of his mouth, pale and weak but there was no sign of this Fey War Party. They stared around grunting and sniffing when suddenly one of the sentries caught whiff of something and roared. "Which wayz?!?", Yakgnath demanded but before he could get a response, he heard a whistle in the distance. All the Orcs heads turned to see in the clearing a little white bearded man, no larger than a week old Orc Cub. Then, there was laughter coming from the brush just behind this creature.

This enraged Yakgnath further and he roared and charged with great speed toward this creature which he would stomp into the earth until it was naught but guts upon the stone forest floor. He heard the Orchish sentries roar behind him and give chase quick behind him but before he could reach this wretched little creature it leapt upon the back of a badger coming from the brush behind. The badger then began to run, carrying the bearded little man away from the Orcs. It would not be fast enough Yakgnath thought and his mouth began to drool and salivate at the thought of raw badger meat, forgetting all about the war party of Goatmen and Pixies.

Then, just as he was moving within striking distance, the little man called out words that Yakgnath could not understand except for it's punctuation, "...,Huzzah!!!!" and suddenly the four legged furry creature began to move at a blinding speed. Yakgnath increased his own pace, furiously trying to keep up, bounding in great strides but always a few paces behind the badger with it's odd little master. The Orcs did not give up, their rage would not allow them without blood being split. They would chase this creature down and kill it, every fiber of their being demanded it.

They ran through brush, between trees and finally down a path by the river. Their was only one way out Yakgnath knew, the tunnel and it would be there in the dark, without this oppressing sun and heat, that they would finally be able to chase their prey down. He watched as the fool creature entered the tunnel on his badger and he knew the kill was near. He burst into the cave, the damp cool air filling his lungs and easing his breath causing him to pick up speed over the damp rock and lichen. But then, with this first breath he also came to smell something and then as suddenly as the blood rage came to him, it suddenly disappeared in confusion as he found dozens of glowing eyes staring at him from within the tunnel.....
He stopped as suddenly as he could being paces ahead of his own pack he shouted through the tunnel in Orcish, "Stop!!!...". But it was too late, his own Orcs were suddenly at his back screeching and drooling. He heard them as well go quiet as it the smell and glowing eyes became apparent to them as well. Some kept their blood rage and continued to snort and squeal in fury. This made the Glowing Eyes growl and snarl more. Suddenly the tunnel was a cacophony of terrible sounds growing louder. Yakgnath knew it was too late and began to grunt himself, readying his spear and crouching into a position to strike. That was when the first large white wolf lept forth to grab his arm within it's maw and begin to tear.
The battle had begun though all he knew now was the most basic instinct, kill, or be killed. He tore the canine lose from his arm, throwing it against the wall of the cave, then stabbing forth to impale the beast with his spear and letting out a blood curdling scream as he did. Around him all hell was breaking loose as fang and claw met spear and axe. He fought with furious strength, stabbing, kicking and beating his way in an attempt to make the light at the other side of the tunnel.

He heard the sound of Orcs fall, with the sound of gurgling blood coming from torn throats. When he beat the wolves gathered over his comrade, tearing his body to pieces, more came. His orcs were now raging berserk, without care for life, or limb. They would slay every last one of these wolves, or die trying. He felt their momentum was gaining as they were beating the wolves back toward the light at the end of the tunnel when he heard the sound of the same whistle once more.

Their foes broke ranks, turned and fled toward the end of the tunnel. Yakgnath caught one of them fleeing, spearing it in it's hind quarter while running past to let the others finish it off. That was when he saw the little man standing at the end of the Tunnel. "Grrraaahhh!", Yakgnath cried out as he dropped his spear and broke into a full sprint after this little lecherous creature. He got within ten paces of the end of the tunnel when the last of the wolves made exit and he heard the little man call out something again, he did not understand.

Suddenly and without warning, the roots at either ends of the tunnel jutted forth to impale through Yakgnath and back into the tunnel wall opposite in a grisly scene. He screamed in agony as he saw the little man staring at him from those ten paces away, simply looking sadly back at Yakgnath before walking out of the tunnels light and out of Yakgnath's vision. The pain was beginning to set in and he wailed in agony.

He heard the other Orcs grunting behind him. "How wez get through!?!", one of them called out to Yakgnath, as if he could properly answer. "Cut...mez...down...", he cried back. "No time...", another Orc said, he knew to be Oprith his second in command of sentries. "Cut through him....", Oprith commanded and the last Yakgnath could feel before going to meet his God of Maggots, was the jagged axe which planted in his skull........

((will be edited later))

a new song is heard





After the battles are over,
And the war drums cease to beat,
And no more is heard in the woods
The sound of orken feet.

Full many a noble action,
That was done in the days of strife,
The deeds of the soldier won't be forgotten,
In the peaceful walks of life.

When the tangled brambles,
In misty fog and rain,
Grow over the graves of the fallen
And hide them away from sight,
And many an act of valor,
And many deeds sublime,
Fade from us gathered here,
O'ergrown by moss and lichen
The Songs of Valor will ring
The Deeds of Fey and T'Quessir.

Three cheers for the brave commander.
His motto was always "Vigilance,"
Bold deeds his countersign,

Three cheers for the Fey and the badgers
Mushrooms untrampled low,
Defending their favored groves.

Three cheers for the Wolves and their pups
Fangs bared with Howling might.
Their range now free to roam.

We know that you died for Freedom,
To save this land from shame,
To rescue a periled Forest,
Glory be your fame.
The cause of Freedom and Nature
That you fought and perished for,
And we say it, oh, so gently,
"Our kin who died in the war."

The Saviours of our Forests,
The Heroes who fought anew,
We owe the peace that surrounds us --
A Seldarine grace that's true.
We owe it to you that our village,
The deepest wood of old
Is today unstained, unsullied,
It's nature left unspoiled..

Brave warriors of Doron,
Brave Druids of Nature's Arts
We extend you friendships hand!
We sing for all Tel'Quessir,
The pillars of our land.
We wish you a hearty welcome,
We are proud that you gather here.
To sing the old songs together
Of ancient tales retold
And dance again today.

Brave Fey of Misty Forests,
Brave Wolves of hidden dens.
We extend you friendships hand!
We sing for all T'Quessir,
The pillars of our land.
We wish you a hearty welcome,
We are proud that you gather here.
To sing of old times together
Of ancient tales retold
And dance again today.

Brave Rangers of Misty Forests,
Brave Mages of Arcane Arts.
We extend you friendships hand!
We sing for all T'Quessir,
The pillars of our land.
We wish you a hearty welcome,
We are proud that you gather here.
To sing of old times together
Of ancient tales retold
And dance again today.

We would bring out the treasured bows.
We would take the sword from the wall,
And hushing our own heart's pleadings,
Hear only our kinfolks' call.
For next to our Protector, Kin is our honored duty
We cherish their honored names,
Of the bravest of all brave armies
Who fought for T'Quessir fame.



// adapted from an American Civil War tribute
_________________
Elethineth Teu-Tel'Quessir


EST Tues am, Thurs/ day
other quick moments

He was so tired, days without reverie as the reports poured in. Doron had come and he had moved to prepare with Captain Mealir, Laisren's former brother in law. I like this man, the hooded moon elf thought and contemplated why Laisren held only a begrudging respect. Why?, he thought, but paid it little else attention as he looked over the village from the safety of the Skyway Place. He imagined what the gods must think of them as the elves below scurried about in their great angst.

Are we but play things to them, he thought, does this Lord of Fire truly care about how we live our lives so long as we pay him homage? Then suddenly, he heard this Half Elven Bard begin to strum a chord below in the doorway of the tavern. He simply tuned his lute and hummed while others gathered around him. Then suddenly, he began to sing and others chimed in with him. Other bards beat their drums and played their flutes and soon this Half Elf carried with him the current of people as he began to move from the door way of Tavern toward the gates of the village proper.

The Ranger standing guard at the gate gave him passage and all those in his wake, dozens it seemed by now. He began to hop and skip as he sang. All while playing his loot, others continued to follow like a stream running down a mountain as the spring's warm began to warm land frozen from the winter. This masse of people which now gathered round this man, as he was not but a speck amongst them, continued down the other side of the creek till they turned toward the Dala'haera and up the steps.

The moon elf watched in amazement as the pulse of this village, once sullen and lifeless, now beat with a fury felt when caught in vision of one's lover. That was what it was, he thought. This half elf, this bard, this man, struck the chord of kinship, of remembrance, of love and these people, his people were showing their thanks to him. They were showing him with their kinship, with their remembrance and with their love.

The moon elf looked on from the top of the Skyway place lost in the moment when he heard a sound near him. "Ahk'aegis, we have report....", a voice which sounded distant to him began to say as he continued to listen to this bard and his people. "Ahk'aegis!", the voice sounded like a crack of thunder through a long valley, echoing now in his ear. He turned to see the elven Ranger Celundel standing near him a attention.

"Yes?", the hooded elf asked with some consternation. "The Orcs gather in masse across the River...", the Ranger began but was stopped by the sudden and fierce look within the piercing blue eye of the Moon Elf. After a slight pause, the moon elf looked down at the village and finally responded. "Very well, prepare our people, the battle begins....", he told the Ranger, watching him run off down the rope bridge before continuing, "...Gods keep us all".

The Moon Elf watched the reaction of the people as they heard the news before he entered the Councilcaern to collect his armor. It was time he knew, time for his people, the elven people to go to war.........

Cleaned table, precise rustling of boots and clothes, scents of oiled leathers, of cleaned weapons, pungent smell of decaying leaves and mud. Map unfruled, Laisren's voice cuts and is now only echoed by the crackling fires in the room. A feint, a strike, simple, no questions ?

None, and a task given, the groups part under mutual blessings of luck, invoking the Seldarine's protection, brief and hurried, Orcs are gathering already. "What can you do ? What is your name ?" Bare minimum, people reduced to their roles, time is lacking and efficiency eats the joy of these new faces. A few chuckles to alleviate the mood, to appreciate a spark of what might be lost in a few moments. We head out.

Cold day, the forest greets us with a carpet of dead leaves and a stark winter light, not entirely obscured by the naked branches. Mendel leads us towards the clearing, Nai at his side. Behind me the first spells are forming under the art of the mages and clerics. Our strides lenghten, suddenly rythmed by Soora's soaring voice.


A beast trail leading to the clearing makes for an excellent position where the mages, Gondael, Ithilwen, Kael, Kai Deacon, complete their wards. Unsheathing Grace as all comes to an halt I begin :
Deacon finishes his call and as my song fades several animals and feys show their presences on the outskirts of the clearing. The loud steps on the other side are not missed by anyone, Sayiel speaks one last blessing, an arrow flies.

The elves gathered within the glade as Orchish war drums beat in the distance. Some of the elves wore helms made of leather, others of ancient mithral. All fidgeted nervously, fletching arrows, sharpening blades with stone, or passing pipe weed amongst themselves. None were left unmoved by the enormity of the event to take place.

A gold elf stood within the slender northern path, tuning his lute. The Ahk'aegis paced before those gathered, Darashan and Doronian. "All know their purpose, set forth to do what must be done...", he shouted and then waved his arm over before finishing, "...move out!!!". Just then the Bard caught his chord and began to sing. "At dawn they ride again....", he sang as half the elves gathered followed the Ahk'aegis into the tunnel leading to their enemy.

The elves whom followed were those whom knew the great importance of their mission. If they did not hold this one fjord of the river, the Orcs might cut them off entirely and starve the hungry mouths of both the Wood and Wild Elven kin alike. Some elves began to vomit the contents of their stomachs as they marched ever closer to their sworn enemy. Others grit their teeth and took careful aim their arrow. All this while they heard the song of the gold elven bard echo through the valley, "All your life, is a sea......".

Then the Ahk'aegis put up his hand and called, "Hold!". The hooded moon elf, in his forest green mithral armor, raised his head and listened silently. He put up four fingers and pointed to the archers whom in turn all gathered their breath, notched a single arrow and moved forward in unison. They held this breath as their enemy came into view. Four Orcs, already crossed the fjord with a single boar in their stead. None the elves gave breath whilst they silently pulled back their bowstrings in unison with the Ahk'aegis.

The dark hooded moon elf turned his sights from the Orcs to the half dozen other archers gathered next to him. Then, he nodded and let loose his arrow.........

The Orc paced back in forth, his hot breath a mist blowing through the teeth in his skull mask. It had been half the night since that fool Yakgnash had come to him with his fool stories of little fey things come to trouble his tribe. Where wuz dey, he thought has his eyes tightened and the grip held on his axe handle hardened until his forearm began to cramp. In response to this involuntary action by his muscles, he threw his axe hard into the bark of his own oaken thrown, nearly splitting it in half and then screaming into the night, "WEERRRHHAAAWWWW!!!".

Something was not right he knew and he didn't care what it was, he wouldn't wait anymore as his own vanguard, the largest and most vicious orcmen of his tribe gathered round him, salivating and awaiting his word. "GO, KILL THEM ALL, KILL ALL THE ELFZ, THEY ARE WEAK, WEZ IS STRONG.......", he screamed to them and beat his cramped fist against the chainmail on his chest until all both it and his chest felt numb. He proclaimed this to his people, not because he was confident but more because he was afraid. Something wasn't right and he knew it. In this fear of the unknown, he turned to his most basic emotion, anger.

The Orc Warriors responded, beating their owns chests and pounding their spears. Drums beat now with the spear, a few at first, then many, until all the forest seemed to reverberate with the percussion of war. First the berserkers broke loose the camp, tearing off their armor as they ran for the river fjord which led to the elven village. Mofufu, growled, breathing heavily and continuing to pace back forth while the main body of Orcs gathered. They formed into makeshift lines before their priests, spears and axes taken up. These holy clergymen tore loose the bowls from the forest animals they had been sacrificing days before to the Orcish Gods, smeared them upon the armor of their warriors, barking into each of their faces to slay the enemy of Gruumsh and return with their intestines.

Dozens of orcs poured over the ridge of their camp and down the slope leading to the Fjord. First moving slowly, then as they began to descend down the over side, picking up pace into a blistering charge, all heading for the Fjord. Just as Mofufu's own Vanguard was about to go and meet with the Clerics, Mofufus put a paw upon his own second of command. "Not youz....", he said in a sneer as he turned the large Orc to look at him. "Youz take overhill brush, leadz down to Grove, youz go now and take Elfz from behind", he told the large Orc who in turn grit his teeth and waved forward his small band of elite warriors in another direction from the rest of the Orchish war party.

Mofufu watched the whole of the camp empty but for the old priests, women and children. A sea of orcs crashing like a wave over the ridge, to flood this forest and take what was rightfully theirs. Though none could see it, Mofufus tusks gleamed in his mouth with delight..........

The archers moved through the corpses collecting their arrows and kicking the bodies of the dead Orcs into the river. "Just the Fjord sentries, form ranks" the Ahk'aegis commanded in a firm tone. The High Priestess of Corellon took command of the front ranks, moving the Druids and warriors to form a wall at the center of the bridge. The Bardess Elanaele took command of the archers to form a scattered line upon the rear bank of the Fjord. The Aegis watched the elves form up into their positions and there they waited.

He stood between the two ranks, an arrow pointed at the petrified wood beneath his feet, notched and ready. His one keen eye watching the far side of the Fjord. His ears did not need listen as intently since the trees of the forest now reverberated with the concussion from Orcish drums coming from beyond the ridge line which bordered the pass leading to the river. He could feel the nervous tension of his people as they waited. Each moment seemed an ocean of time while waiting to see that which now came to oppose them, to kill them and pillage their home. Those drums, they were too many to be a simple war party, he thought.

There was nothing he could do, or say he knew. This was the way of war and these people would need to be forged by it, or broken. "Our people’s time on this plane is near an end. Fight, or die, that is the only choice we have been given. Whether the end to this madness is slow, or quick, only that you can decide. Most of our kin refuse to see this, and would pass from this world before offering a fight," the words of a past life's mentor reverberated in his mind. His face lit with a slight sneer and scowl as if witnessing something disdainful. The Irony, he thought, for the words of this specter did now ring true, in spite of the Aegis' hate for him and what the specter stood for.
That was when the first Orc broke the ridge, screaming and squelling down the pass without breaking stride toward them. Then others appeared moving at a frightening pace. "Archers!" he yelled and felt their arrows being raised as he took aim himself. But it was too late, the Beasts had already closed the gap and bore down upon the Priestess who stood lone in front of the wall. Suddenly confusion reigned as archers scrambled to gain sight upon the first orcs which beset themselves upon the Priestess, the symbol of Corellon, like locusts upon a stalk of wheat. The Aegis himself began to fidget his bow sight widely between the elves of the wall.

He watched the Priestess fall as the beasts overcame her. Then time seemed to slow. His vision fell into frames as his eye blinked and he felt the breath in his lungs heavy. His teeth grit and his heart dropped, knowing a great blow had been dealt the defenders but there was no time for concern. "Archer's, the ridge!!" he yelled to refocus the bowmen not on the front ranks of Orcs now mixed with the front wall of elves, but to take aim at the following ranks still attempting to overcome the ridge. He lit fire to his arrow to trace his aim and allow the others to see his focus if they had not heard his words, took aim and let fly his arrow into the first beast he saw.

He heard the twang of dozens of bowstrings in unison and the whistle of arrows screaming away from their party. A few Orcish wars having just overcome the other side of the ridge, fell dead riddled by half a dozen arrows. They continued like a whirlwind as he pulled, notched, drew and let fly more arrows. The archers continued this deadly barrage with terrible effect upon the Orcish ranks, obliterating the reinforcement ranks of the first Berserker Orcs until no more Orcs could be seen attempting the ridge.

Suddenly, the Aegis felt a great buffet of wind and then a second which caused him to brace himself lest he loose his balance. When he turned his focus upon the bridge in front of him, two of the Druids had turned into great wyrms. The Ar'vil, Fhaeo had sprint forth from the wall in an attempt to beat back the Orcs from the Priestess. The two Dragon followed close behind swatting aside the Orcs with great wings and gnashing down upon the Apemen with their terrible maws. The Ar'vil, shield in one hand, grabbed the Priestess with his other and inspite of great peril alone amongst those beasts, drug the woman back behind the wall.

Time began to speed up once more as the last of these Berserker Orcs were cast out into the river hundreds of feet below. The archers kept their arrows notched and aimed on the ridge and the Dragons held the bridge between them, elven warriors at their flanks. But, with this, so too did they now have time to lament the loss of their Priestess, as elves began to turn to see her condition. There was no time for this the Aegis knew and commanded "Form back into ranks!! Fhaeo, get her back and see if she still lives" he told the Ar'vil. "If so, get her on her feet, this is not over...." he yelled out to all the ranks, "....they always send forth their bersekers first, before their main war party!"

He saw some of them give him a dismayed look for his nonchalant attitude toward the falling of a Priestess, others he saw turn their sights upon the outer bank but all did as he commanded. The archers kept their watch of the far ridge, the Druids and warriors their guard of the Bridge, while Fhaeo desperately tried to revive the Priestess. The tree's branches still rattled from the percussion of their enemies drums but no more could be heard within the fjord. An errie silence and quiet could be heard, until the ground on the other side of the river began to rumble.

Just then, the Priestess came to and immediately, perhaps due to the shock of war, began to move once more toward the front lines. "Stay back!" the Aegis ordered her to which she protested, "I am a Priestess of Corellon...." The Aegis did not allow her to continue her speech. Keeping his eyes peeled across the foreign bank he commanded, "And if you fall again, so do we all, now stay back." Just then then first row of Orcs could be seen taking the ridge. My gods, he thought and paid the Priestess no more mind.

A row of near forty Orcs lined the ridge, beating their chests and spears upon their wooden shields. They snarled and spit toward the elves in their own barbaric tongue. "ARCHERS......" he yelled and heard the drawing of bowstrings. The Orcs then broke like a flood over a river damn. "FIRE!" the aegis screamed as the twin Dragons roared before him. The whirlwind sounds of bow and string, wing and sword filled the river valley once more. There was no time to think, just fletch, aim, fire, fletch, aim, fire again once more. This time, as the Orcs came, it was not in waves as before but as a solid flood of tusk, claw, spear and axe to crash down upon the wall of Dragon and Elf.
The twin Dragons attempted to hold their ground at first but were slowly being pushed back under the sheer weight of the advance of hundreds of Orcs. When finally they set their back claws into the petrified bark beneath them enough to stop the advance near twenty paces from the line of archers, an elven mage known as Kael took this moment to deaftly cast a spell of grease within the ranks of Orcs. Suddenly, as their ranks lost footing, the Dragons began to push with all their might, shoving many of their attackers clear off the bridge but this advance was slow and could only advance to the edge of the grease.

Now, the Orcs became their own worst enemies, as they pushed and fought to reach the elven line whilst loosing their footing and falling to the river below. Still, the Orcs numbers did not stop ascending the ridge. Although the elves barrage of arrows continued, suddenly the Orc's own Shamans and Boworcs stepped forth to rain down ice and bolts upon the bank of the Elves. The aegis seeing this, threw his bow upon his back, began to gesture his hands in circling motions while calling out words in the arcane. While maintaining his concentration, inspite of death falling around him, suddenly the speed of his allies around him began to hasten. Arrows flew faster, swords slashed quicker and suddenly the elves capacity for war increased.

Still, they were few while their enemy many. Where one Orc warrior fell to his death, two more came to charge. Where another Orc Shaman died of arrow wounds, two more came to reign down storms of icey death. Then, the elven Archmage stepped forth once more and reached his hands into the sky. As he did, his eyes rolled back into his head as bolts glanced off some shimmering force surrounding him. Then, the shore upon the opposite side of the river irrupted into flames, as great meteors rained down from the heavens to crush the Orcs several at a time.
When the sea of smoke and fire ceased upon the other side of the bank, several orcs could be crying out in agony while the rest stood looking at their smoldering allies and then toward the elves. This time, they did not squeal, or call out war cries. Staring at the twin Dragon roaring at their ranks, whilst arrows reigned down without ceasing, the Orcs turned and began to move slowly back towards the ridgeline. There they continued to snort and beat their shields.

The Aegis, his breath heavy from the exertion of constant stringing and loosing of arrow for how long he could not rightly know, called out "Hold!" The archers ceased their fire and suddenly the river valley was the silent sound of war once more. He looked around moving through the rear ranks. The elves' numbers held strong, while piles of dozens, upon dozens of Orcs, lined the rear fjord. They would need to climb their own dead simply to reach the elves at this point. Still, he knew this was not over. The Dragons were near exhausted of spell, their warriors armor worn to shreds and their archers desperately running out of arrows.

That was when he heard the Orcish Drums beat once more, first slowly and lightly, then quickly with a great bombastic rhythm. That was when he saw it - an Orc near three times the size of any elf, as if bred between Orc and Giant. It was fully armored and carrying what looked like a leg bone of a great dragon. It charged toward the elven ranks, the spell of grease long since dissipated, the Aegis knew the impact of this charging beast might break their ranks allowing the other Orcs to flood through.

"Arch...." he began to scream but before he could a great explosion of light rained down upon the far bank causing the elves to turn away, shielding their sensitive eyes. When the Aegis turned back, the large Orc staggered around aimlessly, swinging its large mace in every direction. "It's blind, kill it!" the Aegis turned hearing the voice of the Priestess standing behind him as she stood there still caressing her wounds gently and feebly. It took him a moment to realize what had happened. She had cast a divine spell to blind the beast and now it lay defenseless before them.

"Archers!" the Aegis said still looking in astonishment at the Priestess. "Fire!" he finished as the elven archers let loose a volley that would have killed a stampeding Drake. It took two more, before the large half Orc, half Giant beast lay dying but when it was done, the row of Orcs upon the ridgeline had disappeared and their drums silenced.

It was up to the others now he knew. The Orcs always broke ranks, before continuing on their charge until the last of them are dead, or their Chieftain. "Form ranks!" the Aegis called out as the elves, tired but victorious for the moment consolidated once more. "May your blades strike true Cor'vil......" the Aegis said to himself as he counted what was left of the arrows in his quiver..........

((This story is entirely taken from IG. While somewhat embellished, the entirety of this event might be substantiated by a DM ))

The ground shook and smoke rose from the direction of the Orchish flood. Mofufu grinned a terrible grin, snatched up his great two handed axe in his right hand, and stomped toward the ridge licking his lips. He would cut in half the first little man he came into contact with and then follow the rest of them as they fled back toward their village. He would run each of them down with his people in toe. He would cut each and every one of them down and trample them into the dirt. He would follow them back to their shit little village, strangle their children with his bare hands, and then rape their women.

That was when he noticed his Orcs running by him in the opposite direction. Many were singed, smelling of burnt flesh and fire, others strewn limping with arrows wounds. All of them cursing and running for their lives. He stopped not realizing what was happening for a moment, until his reached down and grabbed one of them by the neck with his left hand, lifting it off its feet and asking it, "WHY YOUZ RUNZ!?!?!" The smaller orc simply squirmed in Mofufu's grip, smelling of burnt fur and piss.

"Elfz....rain...firez...", it manged to spit out before Mofufu crushed it's larynx in his bare hand and cast it aside. Looking ahead of him, he saw an on rush of Orcs fleeing a smoldering scene beyond the ridge. When he turned behind him, he saw his people - the wounded warriors, old Orcs, females and children, look at him with frightened eyes. Many of the orcs scampered about on all fours licking their wounds.

Suddenly, all the certainity which had filled Mofufu fled and he had not the answer to the concern in his people's eyes. He turned back to look at the now empty ridge and slowly backed away from the billowing smoke. As he did, he growled and roared "ELLLLFFFFZZZZ!!!!!"..........

He sat there, slumped within his chair, at the end of the table in the corner of the tavern. The brazier's fire warmed his back, as he turned his chair half way around to watch the elven band of bards walk through the center of the room, strumming and singing while villagers danced and drank around them. His body was tired from exhaustion, his mind numbed from the clear brown liquid which swilled around in the glass he now held. He grit his teeth as he took a swig, pulled the glass from his lips and rested it down on the table beside him.

Then the strangest thing did happen, a slight and lingering grin came to his face as he watched the others dance with amusement. "I am beginning to understand why he liked this.....", the dark hooded moon elf said as he turned to regard the drink in his hand. He had time to acquaint himself with this drink in his time as Ahk'aegis, though he had not this sense of ecstasy before, as he did now. Then he felt someone standing beside him, reach down and take his left hand. He turned from his right to his left still awkwardly grinning. She stood there, smiling gently down to him.

Saline Ua Tiernan, the woman that would be his wife he thought and the smile grew for a moment before he caught himself in this moment of self indulgence. The smile running awkwardly from his face, he quickly turned his attention back towards the center of the room. She squeezed his hand to get his attention once more. He took another sip from the glass in his right hand before slowly turning to look back up to this beautiful, regal wild elven woman. His one crystal blue eye looked longingly up towards her in yet another moment of weakness, he thought, but he couldn't help it as he continued to stare.

"Thank you", she whispered down to him. "For what...?" he began to say back to her before she cut him off. "For this," she said and nodded her head towards the others. His gaze followed hers, he stared round the room. Elves of every race, every possible background, gathered to dance and sing as one people. His mind was a bit lost in it all for a moment, his mind still being numbed of course, but also for the beauty of it all.

He looked immediately to the band of bards playing and amongst them were all whom held vigil over the village during this time of trouble. The wood elven bard who sang his song of sadness and anger, encouraging the people to fight against their great depression. The moon elven bard whom sang to enlighten the village with words of passion and universal suffrage before the gods. There was even the wild elven bard whom sang his song of anger and rebellion. Finally, there was a longhaired Gold Elven Bard whom sang a song of melancholy beauty.

Then he looked within the opposite corner, there stood Mendel the champion of these people with his companion Nai. She nuzzled next to her partner drawing his attention from the others while he sipped his wine and embraced her. In the center of the room was Mealir, the half-elven Bard turned Captain, whom clapped and sang in his attempt to stir others to do the same. Then there was the kind and handsome young priest Kai sharing a dance with Mai, the feral and mysterious warrior woman. He nearly laughed as he saw Tan behind the bar having a drink with each and every person whom attempted to order one for him, or herself.

"You did this..." the sound of Saline's words rang in his ear for a moment before his mind attempted to register. "We did this...," he said still watching the crowd. Then he felt her hand slide under his hood and slowly pull it back to expose his scarred face. He looked up to her with a childish longingness as she bent down and kissed him gently on the forehead. She stood back up and stared back out to the room, still holding his hand as he watched her.

"You say he didn't like bards..?" he asked Saline. She looked back down and gave the moon elf a quizzical funny look. "That I did and you know well why...", she began to say with a furrowed brow. "Then perhaps we are not so much alike..." the moon elf retorted lazily before finishing with a stupid and silly looking grin on his face "...for I find them rather amusing." Saline frowned a bit at this. Seeing this, he looked down and took another swig from the glass still being held in his right hand.

"Though, I have gotten rather accustomed to this whiskey...," he added looking up to Saline with a broad smile. She could not help but crack a kind smile in return this man's sensitivity to her feelings. "You are not so much different as you should like to imagine I suppose...", the Queen of the Wild Elves said staring kindly back to the moon elf. They stood there holding hands, watching the others sing and dance as the moon's light shown over the village. Proud and free once more.......