Table of Contents:

• History of the Father Circle
• Beliefs of the Father Circle
• Rituals
• Ranks

History of the Father Circle
The History of the Father Circle is one that is complex and unique. When it began it served as a circle of guardians that were only called forth in times of crisis and when change was to be enacted within the Druii. Since then it has held several different purposes but the same notion has remained, to protect the balance through warrior-esque traditions. The Father Circle has maintained its values of kinship, traditions, protection, and spirituality throughout time and as it is reborn once more, so shall it remain. In recent times it has faded from existence, but in its rebirth it has begun to grow once more into a conglomerate of like-minded Druii accepting a wide range of beliefs yet all walking the same path. 

Beliefs of the Father Circle
With the founding of the Father Circle, came a set of ideals which have stemmed from both druidic and warrior traditions that have embedded themselves into the present views of the Father Circle. The beliefs of the father circle are held within high regard and of great importance.

The father circle is made up of Druii warriors, and as such the beliefs of the circle pertain to traditions of war and protection. Members of the circle are taught from a young age how to wield weapons and fight, likewise they are also taught survival skills. Like all druii, the goal of the father circle is to protect and uphold the balance, they do this by following the teachings of Cernunnos, often times proactively hunting down the abominations that threaten the balance and using their teachings to cull such from the realm. The Father Circle is accepting of all walks of faith, Traditional Druidism, Neo-Druidism, The Wild Faith, and other unique religions all exist within the Father Circle, allowing for a bounty of ideas and growth to occur within their ranks. In the end, all who enter are deemed protectors before all else, even the oracles and Stiùireadh play their part as warriors to help guide the circle forwards in their journey to proper balance.

The Turning of the Wheel

The father circle practices a belief system that revolves around the wheel of the year, and its seasonal events that occur. With each solstice or equinox, the wheel is turned and with it it brings about new beginnings and festivities, for example upon the turning of the wheel during the summer solstice, also known as ‘Litha’ a large festival is held, including both a maypole dance, and a grand hunt. Festivities like these celebrations bring the Father Circle together to join as one in memory and gratitude for the natural cycle. The four parts of the wheel act as a symbol for each part of the cycle and are each seen as a metaphoric period of time that are all celebrated in their own unique way. The celebrations are usually held and led by the Råitheans who act as symbolic representations of each season. At each turn of the wheel, the Father Circle celebrates in their own unique way, the rites and celebratory endeavors are listed below under seasonal rites.

Initiation Rites
Before one becomes a fully fledged member of the Father Circle, they must prove themselves through a series of trials. Dedicancy is viewed by the Father Circle as a personal journey where the acolyte must prove to themselves that they can achieve what they seek. However, to be initiated to the Father Circle, they must prove themselves able to stand among their kin and complete three rites in order to become Curaidh which is the role of a warrior within the circle. Before their trials, the new Acolyte’s Guardian will bring them before The Father Tree and offer sacrifices and prayers for good fortune and guidance from Cernunnos as they begin their journey to join their Brothers and Sisters on the other side of the circle. These rites include the Rite of Marking, Rite of the Curaidh, and Rite of Companionship. After this is done, the Circle comes together to celebrate the new brother that has entered their ranks.

The Tree of The Father

The Father Tree or Tree of the Father is an old and barren tree that has remained with the Father Circle since it’s previous creation. Seen as a religious symbol that is held very close to the conglomerate of Druii, the tree is a dormant father tree that never grew to its full potential. Because of this it is viewed by the members of the circle as a reminder to push themselves to their absolute potential and it is a place where offerings, bone charms, and runes are carved for good fortune in the coming years. This dwarfed tree blooms once every 10 years and celebrations are held because of the rarity of its bloom. When this occurs, pink and white leaves blossom forth and create a beautiful display of floral petals that only last for one day. The tree is often placed in the center of the grotto inhabited by the circle as the cornerstone for their beliefs.

Bodily Health

It is believed that through the use of Herbs to speed up healing processes to injuries that a Druii of the Father Circle acquired (unless in dire need) is unnecessary and disrupts the natural healing of the body from injury to it’s prior state. Often stitching and the use of alcohol to clean wounds is the most common practice of the Father Circle Druids as it is seen as the most efficient way to clean and mend a wound without interfering with the natural balance of a body healing itself. Thus, the use of herbs for cuts or other ailments is seen as taboo and unnecessary to the druids. 

On Voidal Magi

The stance on the void remains clear and cut to the Father Druii who are members of the Circle. The void is an absolute and neverending threat to the natural order and balance and within itself is unnatural. Thus void magi are under a zero tolerance stance, this does not mean that they all are hunted but hunts often occur to cull these beings from the land so they can no longer draw forth their foul practices into the natural realm. Thus, they are not permitted and more often than not returned to the soil or burned in order to restore a fraction of the balance that they have ruined.

Rituals
Initiation Rites:
Rite of Marking-
The rite of initiation occurs after an acolyte has been attuned to the whispers of the world around them. In this rite, the acolyte is sent into the world with a goal, to hunt a beast with a limited set of tools. If the acolyte is successful and returns, they will be wrapped within the hide of their hunt and marked upon their face, arms and chest with the blood of Cernunnos, this pattern that was marked upon their person will later be replaced with tattoos. During the process of the acolyte receiving their tattoos, the circle will often chant and burn sage nearby. 

Rite of the Curaidh-

When an Acolyte becomes attuned to nature or a Druid joins the circle, they undergo the Rite of Curaidh or the Rite of the Guardian. This is where they forge their weapon and armor that will remain with them for the rest of their time among the living. They are coated in white paint as a sign of their new innocence and while they forge, they are covered in new colors of reds, greens, blacks, and various other colors as a sign of their growth into the different warriors they are seeking to become. This rite is usually performed by the Råithean and the guide of the new Druid. Should their weapon or armor break then this Rite can be performed in solitude and silence by the Curaidh as they remake their armor to the exact way it was crafted in the beginning. 

Rite of Companionship-

As the Druii in question begins to complete their rituals, they come to face the Rite of Companionship where they befriend a beast and take the animal into their life until that animal passes on. This ritual is one of the more core Rites that a Curaidh partakes in and their companion is meant to resemble who they are and the personality that they possess much like their totem. It is a simple rite yet holds a deep meaning of walking along with nature until the end.
 

Lifestyle Rites:

Rite of Wedlock-
If two members of the circle wish to tie themselves together they will often perform this rite. The rite begins with the Råithean of the circle calling in the cardinal directions, each taking a moment to do so, before moving on to the next. After the directions have been called in, the Stiùireadh leading the ritual will call in the aspects, summoning them forwards to bare witness to the tying of binds. Once the directions and the aspects have been summoned forth, the couple will step forwards and place their hands within one anothers, the Stiùireadh will step forwards and wrap a braided rope around their hands. The rope being braided by the couple before the ritual takes place. The Stiùireadh then pours water over the binds, signifying the couples emotional connection. Dirt is then poured over the binds, a symbolic gesture to root the couple within the earth. A torch is then placed upon the binds, igniting the couples passion. The final step of the ritual is to crack a freshly laid egg over the binds, blessing the couple with fertility.

Rite of the Oath-
This rite is performed when two people or more wish to bind themselves together for life. This can be applied for a multitude of reasons, for example if two friends wish to bind themselves together as life long friends, they may commit to this rite. If one of the participants in the oath passes on, the oath still remains, connecting each other even through death. The rite is performed by two elders of the circle, during which those wishing to bind themselves together must first slice their palm and join hands, then as they hold hands they will share a drink before finally being tattooed. Although each tattoo is different, they all connect to one another in some manner. Once the participants have bound hands, they cannot release one another until the rite has concluded.

Rite of Passing-
When a member of the circle passes onward, the circle will often gather together to grieve. The body of the deceased will be placed within a deep grave, wrapped in the hide from their Rite Of Marking. If the deceased companion has passed on, then they shall be buried together, or when the companion perishes their remains shall be placed into the grave so they may be together in death. Before the grave is filled in, the circle may toss offerings in. Once the grave has been filled in, the Råithean of Winter will plant a sapling of a tree above the grave. 

Rite Of New Beginnings-

When a member of the circle gives birth, this rite will take place shortly after. The babe will be placed beneath the tree of the father, and painted with ceremonial markings by a Stiùireadh, the ink being the deep red sap of the father tree. After which the Stiùireadh will lead a blessing upon the babe, pleading for the aspects to guide the young ones feet, and strengthen their body. After the babe has received the blessings, the parents of the young one will embrace them, and the members of the circle will move around the new parents, creating a circle around them, this is to signify that the new family will be protected by the circle.
 

Seasonal Rites:
Rite Of Mabon- (Autumn Equinox)

The rite of Mabon is a ritual of thanksgiving for the fruits of the earth and a recognition of the need to share them to secure the blessings of the Aspects, during the coming winter months. During Mabon the circle gather together and perform a grand harvest, collecting the fruits of the earth and sharing them among one another. At the start of the feast the Råithean of the autumn season blesses a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine, which is then passed around the table, with each person feeding the person next to them, it is believed feeding one another  is a way to draw the circle closer to each other before the coming winter months.
 

Rite Of Yule- (Winter Solstice)
The winter solstice is a solemn time, and thus the members of the father circle gather together to celebrate Yule. A large feast is held, loved ones are held close, and the darkness of winter is held at bay for one night. Upon this night, the circle offers up a sacrifice of an elk to the aspects, in hopes of bringing about a quick winter.  The animal is traditionally killed by the Råithean of the winter season. Wreaths and sprigs of evergreenery (such as holly, ivy, mistletoe, yew, and pine) are placed over the sacrificial animal, and its hide is painted with red and brown dyes. The corpse of the animal is left within nature, offered to the wild until only the bones of the animal remain, after which they are buried within the father grove.

After the sacrifice, those of the circle gather about for the feast. The feast is a silent feast, anyone who dares utter a word during this feast is removed from the feast, as it is considered highly disrespectful. After the feast has finished, those remaining hand out gifts to others of the circle, these gifts are handmade and hold deep meaning.
 

Rite Of Ostara- (Spring Equinox)
Ostara is practiced upon the spring equinox, and is a time of rebirth, fertility and the turning of the wheel, the balancing of the scale with light ascending. It is common practise for members of the circle to adorn themselves in tiva wreaths and decorate their homes with colorful flowers. Midday upon Ostara the Råithean of spring will call together those of the circle and perform a blessing upon a chosen seed of a tree. The seed is then planted, with each member of the circle planting the seed of a flower in a spiral pattern around the tree seed. Throughout the spring season the members of the circle will tend to their flowers, while the Råithean tends to the sapling.

Just before midnight upon Ostara, the Råithean of spring leads a fertility rite, calling upon Cerridwen to bless the circle and bring about a new generation. During the ritual, the Råithean places an egg within a sea shell filled with fresh water, the shell is then passed around the circle, each member taking a small sip.

Rite of Litha- (Summer Solstice)
Upon the summer solstice those of the father circle gather and celebrate the holiday of Litha, a grand festival is held, with games, feasts, and celebration. There are two traditional events held upon Litha, the first being the Dance Of The Sun. A maypole is set up within the center of the festival grounds, and those of the circle weave between one another, dancing around the pole with ribbons in their hands. Before the dance may begin however, a highly hallucinogenic mushroom is given out. Music is played, and the dance begins, those dancing continue even after the strings have been weaved around the maypole, those involved in the dance will continue until they tire and fall.

The second event of Litha is known simply as ‘The Grand Hunt’, an event in which those of the circle head out into the thicket of the forest in search of a mighty beast to fill the stomachs of the circle. When the beast is killed, the one considered to have done the most is crowned the grand hunter, a title that lasts until the next celebration of Litha. A large feast is then held, with the crowned hunter seated at the head of the table, only after he has taken his first bite, may the others begin to feast.

Ranks

The Autumn, Spring, and Summer Råitheans of The Father Circle

The ranking structure of the Father Circle is unlike those of previous renditions that Druids have instilled into their traditional ruling styles. At the head sit four elder druids who resemble guides for the Father Circle, these are known as the Råithean. The Råithean of the circle are viewed symbolically as the seasons that pass through the year, each resembling a different attitude and perspective that the seasons possess and embody. They act as guides rather than leaders and hold no special duties or privilege over the others. Curaidh are known as the regular druids/warriors that serve the balance and act as protectors over the balance and nature, fighting those who seek to disrupt and harm the earth and her bounty. In the circle everyone holds equal power and responsibility technically speaking however, certain duties fall to different positions. For example, the Stiùireadh are known as the religious zealots of the circle and are in charge of upholding faith rituals and rites that are given to members who seek to enter the circle. The final role is an Aspirant or Acolyte who is someone seeking to join the ranks of the Druii and are undergoing their trials for attunement. 

The reason for a loose structure is to maintain not only a balance of all members to reflect the natural balance, but to allow all an equal status and sense of pride and fellowship that comes with being a member of the circle. 

Librarian
The Librarians of the Father Circle are tasked with the responsibility of upholding and managing the grove’s books and many artifacts, while simultaneously collecting relics and notable druidic-related belongings. Additionally, they’re expected to keep all books pertaining the Father Circle up to date and accurate for acolytes and other members of the Circle.

Healer
The Healers, as the name entails, are the medics of the circle responsible for managing the Grove’s clinic and tending to wounded warriors or dedicants. While the Father Circle generally does not favor the use of unnatural healing methods, the choice is left up to the individual in non-life-threatening scenarios whether they want to be healed by mundane methods or not.

Combat Mentor
The Mentors are renowned as the experienced swordsmen of the Grove, only the most elite and intelligent of druidic warriors. They’re sometimes tasked with training those who are less gifted with blades so that the Circle may further defend themselves and what they stand for in the face of danger.

While none of these are formal Circle ranks in and of themselves, they simply act as side-roles druids can choose to take in tandem with whatever other titles they bear at the time.
 

((If you're interested in joining the Father Circle, please message one of the following players and they can help you out! 🙂 ))

(IGN) (Discord)
WestCarolina, Carol#7747

Nightcastor, Vailoen#2666
Unwillingly, un-w#9099
 

Accompanying Sonnos Lore

-

The sky was still a deep blue when Sonna awoke, nestled underneath a large oak tree with her husband, their children, and companions. Morean Arvellon slept soundly, snoring softly as his arms held the priestess tightly. She placed a kiss on his brow before looking at her daughter Naeri, sleeping upright with her back against the trunk and arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze drifted downwards to see Vallein cuddled in Naeri’s lap, chest rising and falling with his hands curled up towards his chest. The mark of Taynei’hiylu, embedded into his flesh, still laid on the back of the toddler’s hand, a constant reminder of the nature dragaar’s warning. Sonna reached over and ran her thumb gently across the scale, blinking sleep from her eyes with a gentle frown. Vallein had grown to love the marking, and his mother was not going to do or say anything that would change that. As long as he was happy and healthy, that’s all the matter to the Red Fox Druid. She looked at her left arm, completely bandaged to cover the Sirame seed tattoo; an image of the Green Dragon Spirit. 

Her emerald gaze turned finally to the red and snow fox, cuddled in a pile between Sonna and Morean. Suna and Fenn’ii she called them, her companions throughout life and gifts from the Sea Prince. Her brother. Her brows furrowed as she remembered their conversation, when Sonna finally told him that they were related by blood, and the royarch reminded her of the curse that ran through their blood.

“Dagnir will come.”

With a quick release of held breath, the young ame reached for the wooden mask gifted to her by her guide, in druidism and in life. The mask was a reminder that no matter what choice she made today, her mentors would always love and support her; she’d always have the Lynx and the Snow with her. Sonna placed the mask on her face and tied the in around her ginger locks, picked up Hileia, the Owl Druid’s ancient staff, and began to set off after gently patting Suna and Fenn’ii’s heads. She only looked back once as she started towards the island that held the shrine she prayed to whenever she needed help like this.

-

Sonna carefully parted the vines that shielded the grotto with her gloved hands, entering the haven with a happy hum. While it had received some damage from the Inferi siege, the statue still sat intact, its carved face still presenting that lovely fox smirk. Before the attack, the druid had told the foxes that call the grotto home to flee, and only a few returned. She can only assume not all of them headed their warning or had left in time. Regardless, three of them slumbered on the statue’s body, one on the tail, one on the back, and one on the head. Sonna quickly took a seat, Hileia standing upright as roots from the underneath the ground melded with the staff. As the fox priestess placed her hands on her knees and bowed her head, the fox on the shrine’s head slowly opened its eyes, gazing at the ginger with curiosity.

In a low voice she spoke, not wanting to wake the, mostly, sleeping foxes.

“I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what the right choice is. I know it may seem like something small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but this is a choice that will affect my family and my life forever. Please, guide me.”

And then she began to pray.

“Ellaurir’Vulnan,

Heya’leh orvull vulmaehr’ehya y’elame sohaera,

Kaean’leh ortilrun nae illerae.

Kaean’leh Sirame ay’nae’leh lye myumierae.

Oh Sonnos, vul’oem, nae’leh ahern kaean illera.”

A few tears trickled down her cheek as she finished her prayer, chuckling slightly at her own display of emotion. Being in the grotto she had made herself always made her feel better, gave her comfort even in her darkest hours. She waited there for a while, not for particularly anything, just simply mediating in her safe place. It wasn’t until after a couple hours she heard a soft plop before her. As the ame opened her eyes and lifted her head, she saw the fox that had been watching her standing before her, looking up at her with a tilt of its head. Not even a second after the druid had looked up, the red fox started to bound off, Sonna’s gaze simply following it at first.

“Follow your heart.”

Her mother and daughter’s words echoed in her mind, quickly scrambling to her feet and grabbing Hileia as she started to jog after the vulpine.

-

Sonna rushed out of the grotto, masked face whipping around to find the animal. The sun was beginning to rise over the sea, causing everything to be seen in a warm, golden light. She found the creature across the water on the mainland, it’s white tipped tail disappearing into a break in the village Siramenor’s walls. The druid raced after it, bare feet thumping on the wooden bridge that connected the two lands and crunching on the sand of the wood elven village’s beach. Once inside the walls, she spotted the fox’s tail once again, this time rounding a corner down the village’s path. Sonna chased after it, following the fleeting animal out through Siramenor’s main gate and past the farms, over the makeshift bride, and into Aegrothond. The fox continued deeper into the citadel, up some stairs into the massive forge, up some more stairs, and then disappearing around the corner to the right. The priestess huffed as she went up the stairs, sweating from the chase and the heat radiating off the stone walls. As she rounded the corner, she finally saw the red fox sitting in front of a pair of double doors, its tail wrapped neatly around its paws.

Feanor’s office.

Sonna carefully walked up to the door, remembering how her brother told her he often sleeps in that very room. She placed her ear gently against the wooden door, listening for any signs of life inside. A sleepy groan sounded from the room, as well as some rustling that the druid could only assume meant he was waking. She turned her head back around for the fox but it was gone, no trace of it left. A small smile tugged at her features underneath the mask as a silly thought popped into her head.

“I wonder if it has ever heard one of mal’onn’s puns.”

-

13th of The Amber’s Cold, 1789.

     “You are hereby deemed guilty, for the crimes of interbreeding, treason, and contempt against the Crown of Elvenesse.” - Olorin Telemnar.

     And thus, the judgment of the Mali’ame Casca Terin was given. For the betrayal of her kin, she was cast out. Branded as a betrayer, and maimed to remove any semblance of her original race. Guardsmen took their turns, handing down the punishment given. Until what was left was nothing more than a disgraced humanoid. 

     “We will not take pride in this, lliran. This is not something to be joyful about.” Remarked the Sea Prince himself, for this sentence was brought by the ire he felt on the audacity of the guilty party. 

     “Prepare this filth for transport.” Hissed Tharandil, the ‘aheral was nothing short of disgusted. He had hoped for summary execution, but the disgrace the ‘ame would linger in was satisfactory. The woman was then prepared for transport, being hauled by Taal and Evar’tir. The Honor Guard made their way to the Orcish blastedlands. Soon arriving at the front of the makeshift city. The woman, who to this point barely clung to life, dropped at the foot of the main entrance. A shout boomed through the Orcish village. “Dominus of Krugmar! We have returned your ***** to you!” Tharandil shouted. It was only moments later, various Uruks of various shapes and sizes arrived before the elves. The two parties exchanged words a moment, the Uruks giving accusations of dishonor, and the elves regarding the woman as nothing more than a nuisance they have hand delivered back to her lover. The Dominus of Krugmar. In a final farewell, Tharandil remarked: “Enjoy your prize, Dominus.” To which he then turned and departed with his company. There was no protest from the Uruks, for they knew that had a battle ensued, they’d only be further disgraced.

Hey there, long time no see! I’ve made a special preview for the 8.0 build that our team has created after much planning, many late nights, and a lot of teamwork. I hope you enjoy what we have put together!

Note: The video will be updated shortly as a portion of the video at the end just continues with music and no footage. Don’t worry, you haven’t missed anything! Just a little trimming error on my part.

Among the smoldering wreckage of the village of Siramenor, a Green Priest stands on a charred stump, facing a crowd of mali’ame. They are bruised and broken, weary and bloodied. The night’s fighting has been hard on them, and their home has been rendered into ash. The priest himself is wrapped in silk bandage, stained with blood. His left eye is swollen shut, his lip split. He looks no better than any of the wounded warriors he addresses. He speaks quietly, his voice croaking, but as his speech goes on- he grows more iron willed, impassioned, defiant, and determined.

Our humble village was once a wellspring of life tender red meat fell right off the bone as our tribes feasted by its great bonfire, performing our dances and songs to honour our ancestors and the Gods of the wild. Here we lived, we laughed, we loved. Then, the twisted souls from the starlight realm came. They brought with them hatred, fire, putrid flesh and infernal magicks born from the malice of hateful Gods. Now our village is ash. Our sacred shrines that we once danced around are charred husks, and our glade, once full of life, is silent. 

Yet for every blade of grass burnt, we have made our enemy pay with a pound of blood. For every fallen warrior, a pile of festering Inferi bodies stains the sacred meadows where we once celebrated the passing of the Aspects’ seasons. We mali’ame live in harmony with nature, and embrace it to its core, thus we fight not with honour, not with restraint, but with the primal instincts of a wild beast, and nowhere is a beast more dangerous than when it was backed into a corner. 

When the enemy from the starlight realm came, our people were forced to abandon our home, and retreat into the sanctuary of our Grey Elvish cousins. There our foe tried to finish us off, but there they would meet their own end. For the children of Irrin fought not with fear, not desperation, but fury. Fury for our beloved forests, crying out in pain, fury for our fallen brothers and sisters, whose souls now rest within the eternal forest. As horde after horde of infernal beast crashed against our citadel like waves against a sheer cliff, they found only the bitter, icy kiss of ‘ame ironwood. Make no mistake, the spirit of the Horned Lord and all his Mani of war, Felixii, Morea, Moccus, Mahae, Norra, and Bolomormaa, coursed through our veins. Every serrated spear point that found the putrid flesh of an Inferi’s throat was delivered by the wrath of our Gods. Woe be upon any who brings accursed fire into the land where the wild things roam.

Yes, our village is burnt. But the enemy has been driven from our land. Their dead form a mountain of corpses which we will burn- for they will not have the honour of returning to the earth as our own fallen warriors shall. Never again will the Inferi of the Starlight realm dare to encroach upon the realm of the Aspects. Brothers and sisters, the mali’ame are not our tribal halls, we are not the trees whose shade we live under. We are our people, and so long as one tribe- one warrior survives who proclaims themselves of the line of Irrin, following of the teachings of the Green Dragon, the Mani, and the Aspects, then our people live. 

We will rebuild, by the grace of the Aspects, our forest will regrow, and in time we will once more live, laugh and love- dancing around the bonfire as we did before the dark times. Never forget how our warriors fought on this day. The story of our victory will be told for generations after our deaths, among the tribal halls and communal fires of our eternal people.

Oerne kae’leh ethereh,

Oerne kae’leh hiylun’ito khel myumiereh

Ay’heya tuvan ullrere, kae iyl perithere:

Eletaliynan orchulne ullrer.

Nae’eh ay’eletaliynan mayilere nae tuvan illere.

Heya elsul’elemaln elehaelun’ehya ay’divtuvan oradilne;

Elehaelun Elemaln’ehya sioln maorakal myumiereyae.

A grandiose archway, now merely a window into the cataclysm of his once beloved home. Aesilnoth had stopped short of the arch, his mind drew a blank. He could only attempt to comprehend what his one eye could see. Where once the capital Tahu’lareh stood, a fortress atop the mountain, was now reduced to an abyssal pit of fire and ash. Yet even then, he was compelled to move forward. Clambering his way up the decimated mountain side, his lungs burned as frigid air became mixed with ash and smoke. What could have done this? His thoughts seemed to race through his mind at a million miles a second. Why did this happen? Eventually making his way over the crumbling mountain side, finding a sturdy surface to perch himself upon. What he found both astounded him and filled him with immeasurable sorrow. Have the demons done this? His eye scanned through the cataclysmic event. His breaths had become rapid, as his heart intensified in it’s beating. Was this the work of an Aengul? His hands gripped tightly at his sides. He was unsure what to do, yet soon decided to pace through the now pseudo valley. Entirely unrecognizable, he’d walk through where the main square once stood. Has Wyrvun revoked Hesin’fin? The area around remained unstable for the time being, huge boulders still crumbled under their own weight. The streets and buildings of Tahu’lareh reduced to a wide expanse of rubble and destruction. Each step he took through wreckage solidified his heartbreak.
 

                                                     One hour earlier…

Aesilnoth set his left hand over his blinded left eye. His hands traced over the scar which pierced through the center like a bolt of lightning. The up and coming siege of Elvenesse was fresh in his mind. It was really the only thing he could think about at the moment. He couldn’t help it, for it was in his nature to prepare for battle. He had held a blade for nearly two centuries, he’s known no other way. The former Fennic Commandant prepared not only his blade, but his mind as well. The infinite possibilities that could occur, yet he must choose a select few to keep in mind. He understood just how important quick decisions can be. The difference between victory and defeat, the difference between life and death. The mali’fenn elected for a walk, as they were quite effective in clearing the mind. As well as further familiarizing himself with the landscape. However, this walk took quite a twist. The sky was pierced open, flashes of lighting exploded through the air in the distance. But this was no normal thunderstorm. He could tell these flashes of light were something more. Remarking the direction the lights came from, as well as estimating the distance, he decided to head towards the Druidic Grove. On his way, suddenly it seemed like the world had erupted. Incredible lights colored a deep sapphire seemingly merged with the lightning. Then came the sound. Deafening, even from the distance he was at, it caused him to wince at how sudden and powerful the sound was. Which Aesilnoth later remarked as the loudest he had ever heard. Upon his arrival at the druid’s grove, he realized he was not the only curious party. The gates of the grove were backed up with many unique individuals, all attempting to see what had transpired only moments ago. However, most if not all were turned away. Luckily, the Snow Elf had been recognized by those already within the grove. With a few words, the brambles that blocked the gateway dispersed to allow him entry. The first few faces he saw, Avius and Evar’tir, clued him in to this sudden change of heart. Regarding each with a nod of his head in thanks, though he further questioned Evar’tir about the event. Pondering over Evar’s answer, he meandered his way into the Elder Tree, where he would find Avius once again. A brief discussion, filled with curiosity. Soon one of the druids approached them, explaining that the being needed rest and space. Accepting the fact, Aesilnoth traversed his way back to the surface. It was only moments later, that the ground itself began to shake once again. Another cataclysm was on the horizon. He could tell whatever it was, had been nearby. Soon smoke began to arise in the distance. This is when the Snow Elf’s heart sank, for he realized where the smoke arose from. Without a word, he simply ran. 

Present time.

He continued on, walking through what was once the Fennic clinic. Now, just a crater filled with rubble, as the rest of the city had become. Close by, a noise sounded from a collapsed hole in the ground. A sound which was definitely alien to the landscape around him. Testing the edge before peering over, to which he would spot a singular horse. Black in color, though severely shrouded with ash. He descended his way downward. The steed was showing signs of distress and nerves, as it should have been. Aesilnoth shushed the beast, his hands raising harmlessly. Calling out to it, hoping a soothing voice could calm his newly found friend. The horse sneezed away the bits of ash tickling at his nostrils, but seemed to calm some at the approaching Snow Elf. Finally, his hand made contact with the steed. Brushing over the majestic beast, cleansing it of the ash as best as he could. There seemed to be a glimmer of hope deep within him. This horse’s survival of whatever had occurred in Tahu’lareh was just as remarkable as the event itself. He was placed in command of a cavalry unit, one meant to find where the fighting was thickest. This horse, the location, the event itself, everything seemed to line up. This horse had become a beacon of hope, an omen, divinely blessed by his one true deity. Aesilnoth simply nodded without a word, for he understood what this meant. He then could hear deep rumbling beneath the earth, a sign of further calamity to come. Wasting no time to idle about, he mounted the horse swiftly. A well trained Fennic steed, to be sure. Tapping the steed in it’s side with his boot, causing it to begin galloping through an alternate route. Descending what was left of the mountain, he’d find himself on the road towards the human nations. Though he headed towards the Cloud Temple, instead. Leaving behind the cataclysm of his motherland. Deep down, he wished to learn what exactly happened, but seemingly didn’t at the same time. For the ice crown fortress atop the mountain held many memories, both of wondrous times, as well as the betrayal of his kin. Above all, he regarded to himself the complete and utter desecration of his ancestors. For the crypt within the citadel held his ancestors. The former rulers and first mali’fenn alike. All of which are likely lost beneath the weight of the mountain. But they were not all, both friends and family alike were laid to rest in the crypt beneath the city surface. The various shrines to his deity now reduced to the same rubble as the rest. The final resting place of so many he loved, obliterated in the blink of an eye. Including the man he regarded as truly his closest friend, the former Grand Prince Aelthir Tundrak the second. Everything had seemed to hit him at once. For he finally now understood what had happened. For now, Aesilnoth was drowning in an indescribable emptiness.

Supper Party!

Come on down ter t’a Greenholm burrow next Elven Day for a party!

We’ll be having a meal together!

-Dandelion Greenholm.

((4:15 PM EST, 9/16/2020))

In order to honor our fallen bard, the Bardic Spirits of the Amphitheatre have decided to hold a celebration, one of song, drink, and dance, three vital ingredients in our remembrance of a true master of the arts! Everyone is invited to pay homage to this great man, whether it be through performance or your role as an audience member! As long as the air is filled laughter and joy, the fields filled with food and drink, and the echoes of song in the air, hope and passion shall remain in our hearts ever-strong!

WHAT IS THIS?

Our late friend and musician, Timothée, was always fond of improvising tunes on the spot, whether they be about his beloved wine bottle, or his grand travels! And so, the Bardic Spirits have decided to hold an improvisational tournament in his memory.

The Flyting Tournament will consist of a simple competition. Much like a Bard-Off, musicians will be challenged to improvise a quality, lyrical, and rhythmic song on the spot! However, there is a catch: we will be asking audience volunteers to shout out a word and, whatever the word may be, our bards will be required to include the topic in their tune in some way, shape, or form.

Judging will be based solely on the reaction of the crowd (for to a bard, the only judgment that matters is that of the audience). Whoever garners the best reaction will be deemed winner of that round. And whoever ultimately creates the most impressive music shall be praised as musician of great talent, blessed by the late Timothée himself!

May the best bard win!

WHERE IS THIS?

In the Amphitheatre, on the road to Aegrothond and near Siramenor

WHEN IS THIS?

(TIME HAS BEEN EDITED, PREVIOUS POST MENTIONED 7EST. EVENT HAS BEEN MOVED UP)

2PM PST /5PM EST on Saturday, 8/8/20

White sand stirs, and breaks. The anomaly had torn the firmament and sundered the land. In the echoes of their wakes, the bay’s soil shifts, rises, the sea breeze tainted with ozone and brimstone. 

Years would pass. The Korvassa dunes and its dwellers would be beset, occupied with the Inferi. Pearl colored sands clotted with ichor and debris. A place west in the bay rose into a mound. It endured despite the many tides, propped up by the wreckage of a sunken vessel. Here, stone and soil gained purchase.

-

The Mali’laurir came upon the mound above the waves. In his grasp, an inch-deep seed, its sheen metallic.

’The soil must be rich,’ he thought.

His eyes avert from the small strip of land to the distant storm. Beyond the archipelago, rolling clouds rumbled days off, heralded by earlier bouts of sparse rain.

From the sloop, the sea-faring man began to shift his cargo. Wrapped in spare sail-cloth and canvas, the innards of a slain whale, dried flesh from a basilisk would be exposed, then burnt and buried within the earthen mound.

He had seen this once before. The corpse of a beast was broken apart. Within days, its remains became the seedbed for a twisted tree, cultivated by druidic hands into root-form. It would shatter the foundation of the ancient tower. Its branches unfolded and stretched, yet were absent of leaves. And still the tree lasted for years without decay.

The seed was planted near the apex of the mound.

The elf departed at full mast. A day had passed, and the sky above was dark. The seven stars of the Mariner shone above.

-

The storm arrived days later. Within the bay, branches of silver lightning cut jagged fissures through the dark sky. The peaceable Isles were shaken by the thunder, yet not frightened. The torrent of rain from the east fell thick against the Elvish homes and the walls of the citadel.

In a breath, the charged air above the mound heralded the bolt.

It struck down into the copper-tainted soil. Swiftly, this natural act was mirrored in one less natural – the mound shifted and was broken. The rock of the mound was shattered, giving way to deep roots, the gnarled wood coiling and building. The curled trunk knotted and split. The many branches blossomed from the wood, mimicking the shape of the bolt in frightening exactness. From the branches and twigs bloomed the stems, petioles. Further did the leaves unfold, the blades peeling back from the gnarled veins.

The moment passed. The storm passed hours later, and the Isles were none wiser.

-

The Mali’laurir returned after the skies cleared, and he beheld the tree of copper leaves.

[!] An invitation would find it’s way to the citizenry of the Almenodrim, along with close family and friends of the betrothed couple. 

You are officially invited to the wedding ceremony between Aesilnoth Tundrak and the Lady Idril Sylvaeri. To occur in one elven week’s time, these two mali shall join together in matrimony under the seven skies. All who receive this invitation are welcome to attend! A time of joy and happiness is in order in the face of a greater evil. We must not allow hope to be crushed, but to flourish!

(OOC INFO: Wedding will be on Saturday, August 8th at 4 PM EST.)

The Dream of Elvenesse

A brief overview of the Almenodrim;

by Olórin Telemnar.

Consider the children of Malin in their awakening.  Proud and untarnished; yet to be afflicted by the Arch-Deceiver, Iblees and his curse.  What is most apparent about the elves of that age was a singular concept of unity, under their forefather and progenitor.  Now, conceptualise those who cherish that image; their motivation - to unite their fragmented kin in all their breadth.  

This desire harboured amongst the Almenodrim was not conceived through great acts of valiance, or legendary heroism.  It is a tragic lament, laced with an age-old regret and failure.  Such is the Dream of Elvenesse to be considered an expression of remorse; a wish right the wrongs committed in ancient history.  Yet, what wrongs could be considered so sickening that they’ve lingered in peoples' minds since the marring of the old world?  Why, it is the act of spilling the blood of one’s kin in an age of strife and hardship.  

Though considered what is in truth primarily responsible for the long-term polarisation of Malin’s descendants and the partition of Old Malinor, the true details of the crimes attributed to the first son of the King have since been lost from the annals of time.  None have pinned, and quite possibly will be forever unable to pin exactly when Sylvaen’s hands were stained with blood, or when his own people fled into exile.  But it is considered fact nonetheless, for though scripture may have decayed, grief has lingered. 

In exile, the Almenodrim truly marked themselves as ambitious but somber people, reflecting on the wrongs they had inflicted upon their kin.  Yet, they did not linger in depression, instead channelling their grief into crafts and an everlasting desire for stewardship.  Even in disgrace, the wayward children of Malin sought to follow the legacy of their sire, and proof of this was etched eternal into the stones of their citadels upon the distant shores.

Centuries came to pass, and their eventual return to the lands of old was met with unease.  Naturally, the descendants of those whose blood was spilt displayed justified skepticism, and such was recognised by the lords of old Aegrothond.  No artefact, gift nor craft held then and there could suture the wound Sylvaen’s hand had carved.  So, his sons, under the name Sylvaeri, offered their hearts instead - an exchange of oaths and hymns of repentance.  Such words again, scattered into obscurity, but known to have lit a beacon of hope and inspired a dream.

As a people, the Almenodrim are not completely defined by a right of blood and legacy, but rather they are a people who accumulate their membership through similar idealism.  Thus, as the ages have passed, identities perhaps once not attributed to Sylvaen’s folk have come to stand beneath their crimson banners.  The Dream of Elvenesse has proven to unite the elves, regardless of origin, for the purpose of forging a greater, unadulterated Malinor. 

What is keenly attributed then to the dream is not only a desire then to craft such a realm, but also the stewardship so maintain and make it a reality.  Perhaps that is the truth behind their vast populace of artisans; folk who hone their skills at the forge and mast, so to temper their minds for the looming task ahead.  

People are then often swift to criticise the idealistic, for sometimes a dream may prove to be unrealistic and bear ill-fruit for the aspirant.  Yet, to linger in what is a definite hovel would be to subject oneself to a fate of stagnancy.  As the saying goes - nothing ventured, nothing gained.  The Almenodrim take this to heart, for even as the ages have yielded hardship, still they have strived to atone for past grievances.  To usher in a new golden age for the children of Malin.

So to conclude this brief study, we can take away perhaps a clearer picture of what exactly defines their dream, the Dream of Elvenesse.  Shaped clearly by their grief and ideals, this scholar could argue there are perhaps few more stubborn in their conviction amongst the children of Malin than the Almenodrim.  Still, many paths linger ahead, and one should be curious to see where they may next lead.  Perhaps something to be elaborated upon further, when the next chapter in this world unfolds.

OOC Note: This letter is going out to the disconnected Clerics of Tahariae, if you are not one of these individuals do not respond.

“To all those of Tahariae’s grace,

Those of faith have dwindled in recent years. A failure I find among those who once swore to be the stalwart defenders of Descendants, against threat internal and external. Regardless, I make prayer that my birds of steel find each and every one of you in good health, unharmed by the cruel march of time, unharmed by ailments both physical and mental.

With this note I do not only bring good tidings, but a message to be heeded by all those who call themselves Tahariae’s Faithful; Find your way back. Return to the land in which you are sworn to protect, so long as Descendants hold themselves there. You will once more find home in the Order of Vehement’s Eye in Aegrothond. In this, we begin to feel the quake of Tahariae’s Will made manifest among us once more.

I wish you all well, and hope to see once more the faces belonging to Clerics of ages past.

- Alrin Sul’Sumana.”
 

The Passing of the Silver Sage

Retiring a little earlier than usual, Artanáro navigated himself through the great citadel of Aegrothond, his steps now more akin to troubled staggering.  Every bone of his aged body now ached, and the gut-wrenching pain that had been with him for months now had yet to subside.  He was old now; a shadow of whom had presented themselves to the Sea-Prince’s court, many years ago.  But still, he persisted. 

Even with weary feet, a wrinkling complexion and scarred limbs, he’d fulfilled the role of which he swore to uphold.  Another scar was a trivial thing in his mind, but such a naive approach to one’s own health could cost them dearly.  The malevolent spell of a greater demon, the icing on a many layered cake of battles, was perhaps enough to hammer home that reality.  Artanáro… no, Rickard… knew that he was stretched thin, the cane in his hand evidence that even his legs were giving way.  

“I think I’ll sit outside tonight,” the old man mused.  With one last gruelling effort, he began the ascent to the great cape that overlooked the bay.  Such a climb could take the wind out of him at this hour, but the surprise would be well worth it.  As he looked out across the calm sea, where the Almenodrim fleet had since laid anchor, the splendour of the full moon lit up the night sky.  There, black waters were transformed into a reflection of glistening starlight and all was quiet - all but the sound of soft waves against the cliffs.

So his mind wandered, and his silver eyes, luminescent as ever, glowed with an ever dimming light.  Such an unpredictable life he’d lived.  A Duke of Carnatia and a scion of Kovac.  An Ascended - the Silver Sage.  A councillor of the Prince of Elvenesse.  One hundred and fifty years this had gone on for.  No man of a typical calibre could’ve lived as long as he had - certainly none that had come of his line prior. 

There was much to cherish and yet much to regret.  Much to do and yet much to let go.  Something to live for and something to let rest.  So he hastened to the submit of the cape and grasped at the splendorous moonbeams. A sight to behold; an eternal beauty that not even age could dull.  

But his cane fell from his right hand, and Rickard’s fingertips flaked, and for a moment it seemed his digits were wreathed in living flame.  Translucent crystal soon took root, and what had once been a hand now crumbled to dust, blowing in the summer breeze and across the bay.  “So this is the hour…” he muttered, bearing a solemn tone of voice.  

Rickard then sighed and comfortably smiled.  If there was such a thing as closure, then perhaps this was it.  He had finally fulfilled his duty.  Sokar’s bells rang out across the twilight, the great sea now giving way to an ashen lunar desert.  So the Ascended followed the chimes across the dunes, guided by the light before his path.  His final destination was before him.  The golden city of the Arch-Aengul - the haven for all her faithful servants and the family whose reunion he cherished! 

Thus did the mortal journey of Rickard Kovachev end.  Thus did he embrace the touch of his Patron.  Thus did he rejoice in finding peace...

Rickard Henrik Kovachev

1623-1773

12^th Duke of Carnatia; Count of Kovachgrad, 

Silver Sage of Rapport;

Grand Master of the Elvenesse Honour Guard

Will and Letters

[!] Many letters would be addressed to select individuals across the continent of Arcas [!] 
 

~ Evelyn ~
@ImChiicken

~ Helena and Cassandra ~

@MunaZaldrizoti & @Starryy

~ Tristan ~ 
@Sorcerio

~ Prince Fëanor Sylvarei ~
@wan

~ To the Ascended ~
@Minst, @funnayyyyy, @Sorairo & @Cordial__

OOC Note

Well everyone, this is it.  A day I have long sought to avoid, but one that I knew would eventually come.  Rickard Kovachev (or Vientos, or even Artanáro) was a character I first started playing around about the end of Axios.  What was meant to be a mere follow-up noble character, who’d fulfil the cliché vassal role we typically expect from any stuck-up lord, turned out to be one of the most unpredictable and lovable characters I ever played on this server.  Honestly, I am going to miss him, but I believe all good stories must come to an end eventually.  For Rickard, this was his last stop and I want to thank everyone who joined me through this experience. 

P.S. To those of you whose characters I didn’t get around to writing letters for – my apologies!  Writing this much tends to cramp one’s hand up and demands a constant flow of tea breaks. 

literally meaning ‘Island Monastery’


The Dao Monastery is one that is rather simple. Its a tall tower with approximately four floors. The first and second are a test and then a tea area respectively. The first floor is a jumping area that requires a good bit of physical ability to get past. One must run, jump, hop, and climb on it to get into the second floor. Once there, you shall find a nice place to sit and a tea kettle in the middle of the table. The main thing about the monastery consists of the fact that it is mainly ran by chi monks. The monastery was founded only a mere 10 years ago and has since then been ran by a lone monk up until recently. As of current they are offering teachings to whichever wanderer comes in, although this isn’t a guaranteed path to obtaining such powers beyond that. Those who live here are peaceful and wish to maintain that. Consisting of generally two sects, that of sun and that of moon, they still manage to treat each other like brothers and sisters. All who actively reside here speak in a thick accented voice of the hou-zi.

Important Cultural Links

Celebration of the Gods

Where

Siramenor Glade (Right next to Aegrothond)

When

4PM PST /7PM EST Saturday, 6/13/2020

Dress Code

If you attend, please wear an animal mask! You can add this onto your skin manually, or purchase one of the animal heads available when you type “/heads shop” in game

The Gods are pleased with us. Good omens run abound, from the fertility of our women, to the presence of white fae, entlings and tree nymphs dancing about our forest canopies. When the Wild Gods bless us with harmony, we must in turn channel our joy into a celebration of their benevolence. 

The Mani masquerade has long been a wood elven tradition, in which we gather, dance and feast. All while wearing masks depicting the likeness of our many animalistic gods. As autumn turns to spring once more, let us all don our masks and celebrate as new life is breathed into our sacred glade.

Ritual of Libation

We will begin with a prayer to the Mani, first by imbibing the water from our sacred springs, then by invoking their blessing in our liturgy in the old tongue.

Dance of the Faeries

After prayers, our Priests will open up the dance floor. Elves of the wild faith will compete for the title of best dancer, determined by who honours their chosen mani the best with their moves!

Feast of the Bear

There will, of course, be much feasting. An entire spread of traditional wood elven meats, fruits and desserts will be laid out, so make sure you fill your bellies.

Hiylu’evar, and may we forever enjoy the blessings of the Mani!

“Well, how long has it been?” The thought throbbed within Artanáro’s head, memories of the distant past feeling more like an echo with each passing day.  At first, the signs were subtle.  The occasional desire to sit - to rest one’s feet upon a stool.  To recline next to a warm lit fire, to ease the pain that had crept up his back.  Of course, everyone desired respite now and then, but these occasions became all the more regular.  Then came the next signs of change.  A slight drag at his heels as he sparred with young Evelyn, the elfess’ footwork waxing, whilst the tendons in his knees snapped horridly.  

Artanáro… no, Rickard... thought back to his most distant memories, adrift within the slow decay of time.  His uncle Viktor’s greying beard. His grinding shoulder, scraping like a chisel with the pain of arthritis.  It had never dwelled upon him before - “So why now?” he thought.  As the century bore on, so too did age and experience pave the pathway to knowledge and wisdom.  Yet, never before did he ever feel old, not in the physical sense.  The Arch-Aengul’s blessings had annulled the curse of Iblees, or so it did for a time.  That boon had since left him, and so mortality once again ran rampant. 

“How many decades will it have been, roughly?”  He guessed at his physical age, as if it were a game.  A light amusement to pass the time.  Fourties? Fifties?  How long would it last?  Ironic, he had come to live amongst the sons of Malin, expecting to reside for a lengthy period, as he had been accustomed to for the last century.  Yet, now he faded, like the rest of his true birth-kin.  Nothing truly lasts forever in this realm, and that truth is perhaps no more exemplified than in the race of humanity.  

Was it something to envy? To despise?  Here stood a man who’d outlived all his prior peers.  A man who’d outlived every other heir to his disgraced bloodline.  Yet, one could only cherish such trivial accomplishments for so long.  So he chuckled, and so he embraced the comfort of his armchair.  No, Rickard wasn’t at all envious - not in the face of growing old.  His only fear was the experience.  The reality that there was still so much in this world to be seen...

“...Or perhaps... I’ve seen enough for one life.”

The Father Circle
The Warriors Of Cernunnos
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DS2dzeDWNSo]

Table of Contents

- History of the Father Circle

- Beliefs of the Father Circle

- Rituals & Rites

- Ranks

History Of The Father Circle
The History of the Father Circle is one that is complex and unique. When it began it served as a circle of guardians that were only called forth in times of crisis and when change was to be enacted within the Druii. Since then it has held several different purposes but the same notion has remained, to protect the balance through warrior-esque traditions. The Father Circle has maintained its values of kinship, traditions, protection, and spirituality throughout time and as it is reborn once more, so shall it remain. In recent times it has faded from existence, but in its rebirth it has begun to grow once more into a conglomerate of like-minded Druii accepting a wide range of beliefs yet all walking the same path. 

Beliefs Of The Father Circle
With the founding of the Father Circle, came a set of ideals which have stemmed from both druidic and warrior traditions that have embedded themselves into the present views of the Father Circle. The beliefs of the father circle are held within high regard and of great importance.

The father circle is made up of Druii warriors, and as such the beliefs of the circle pertain to traditions of war and protection. Members of the circle are taught from a young age how to wield weapons and fight, likewise they are also taught survival skills. Like all druii, the goal of the father circle is to protect and uphold the balance, they do this by following the teachings of Cernunnos, often times proactively hunting down the abominations that threaten the balance and using their teachings to cull such from the realm. The Father Circle is accepting of all walks of faith, Traditional Druidism, Neo-Druidism, The Wild Faith, and other unique religions all exist within the Father Circle, allowing for a bounty of ideas and growth to occur within their ranks. In the end, all who enter are deemed protectors before all else, even the oracles and Stiùireadh play their part as warriors to help guide the circle forwards in their journey to proper balance.
 

The Turning of The Wheel

The father circle practices a belief system that revolves around the wheel of the year, and its seasonal events that occur. With each solstice or equinox, the wheel is turned and with it it brings about new beginnings and festivities, for example upon the turning of the wheel during the summer solstice, also known as ‘Litha’ a large festival is held, including both a maypole dance, and a grand hunt. Festivities like these celebrations bring the Father Circle together to join as one in memory and gratitude for the natural cycle. The four parts of the wheel act as a symbol for each part of the cycle and are each seen as a metaphoric period of time that are all celebrated in their own unique way. The celebrations are usually held and led by the Råitheans who act as symbolic representations of each season. At each turn of the wheel, the Father Circle celebrates in their own unique way, the rites and celebratory endeavors are listed below under seasonal rites.
 

Initiation Rites

Before one becomes a fully fledged member of the Father Circle, they must prove themselves through a series of trials. Dedicancy is viewed by the Father Circle as a personal journey where the acolyte must prove to themselves that they can achieve what they seek. However, to be initiated to the Father Circle, they must prove themselves able to stand among their kin and complete three rites in order to become Curaidh which is the role of a warrior within the circle. Before their trials, the new Acolyte’s Guardian will bring them before The Father Tree and offer sacrifices and prayers for good fortune and guidance from Cernunnos as they begin their journey to join their Brothers and Sisters on the other side of the circle. These rites include the Rite of Marking, Rite of the Curaidh, and Rite of Companionship. After this is done, the Circle comes together to celebrate the new brother that has entered their ranks.

The Tree of The Father

The Father Tree or Tree of the Father is an old and barren tree that has remained with the Father Circle since it’s previous creation. Seen as a religious symbol that is held very close to the conglomerate of Druii, the tree is a dormant father tree that never grew to its full potential. Because of this it is viewed by the members of the circle as a reminder to push themselves to their absolute potential and it is a place where offerings, bone charms, and runes are carved for good fortune in the coming years. This dwarfed tree blooms once every 10 years and celebrations are held because of the rarity of its bloom. When this occurs, pink and white leaves blossom forth and create a beautiful display of floral petals that only last for one day. The tree is often placed in the center of the grotto inhabited by the circle as the cornerstone for their beliefs.
 

Bodily Health

It is believed that through the use of Herbs to speed up healing processes to injuries that a Druii of the Father Circle acquired (unless in dire need) is unnecessary and disrupts the natural healing of the body from injury to it’s prior state. Often stitching and the use of alcohol to clean wounds is the most common practice of the Father Circle Druids as it is seen as the most efficient way to clean and mend a wound without interfering with the natural balance of a body healing itself. Thus, the use of herbs for cuts or other ailments is seen as taboo and unnecessary to the druids. 

Voidal Magi

The stance on the void remains clear and cut to the Father Druii who are members of the Circle. The void is an absolute and neverending threat to the natural order and balance and within itself is unnatural. Thus void magi are under a zero tolerance stance, this does not mean that they all are hunted but hunts often occur to cull these beings from the land so they can no longer draw forth their foul practices into the natural realm. Thus, they are not permitted and more often than not returned to the soil or burned in order to restore a fraction of the balance that they have ruined.

Rituals

Initiation Rites:

Lifestyle Rites:

Seasonal Rites:

Ranks

The Winter, Summer & Autumn Råitheans of The Father Circle

-

The ranking structure of the Father Circle is unlike those of previous renditions that Druids have instilled into their traditional ruling styles. At the head sit four elder druids who resemble guides for the Father Circle, these are known as the Råithean. The Råithean of the circle are viewed symbolically as the seasons that pass through the year, each resembling a different attitude and perspective that the seasons possess and embody. They act as guides rather than leaders and hold no special duties or privilege over the others. Curaidh are known as the regular druids/warriors that serve the balance and act as protectors over the balance and nature, fighting those who seek to disrupt and harm the earth and her bounty. In the circle everyone holds equal power and responsibility technically speaking however, certain duties fall to different positions. For example, the Stiùireadh are known as the religious zealots of the circle and are in charge of upholding faith rituals and rites that are given to members who seek to enter the circle. The final role is an Aspirant or Acolyte who is someone seeking to join the ranks of the Druii and are undergoing their trials for attunement. 

The reason for a loose structure is to maintain not only a balance of all members to reflect the natural balance, but to allow all an equal status and sense of pride and fellowship that comes with being a member of the circle. 

Roster

The Learning Lodge

What does it mean to be wood elf? To tout a bow, hug a tree, and shout adorations to the moon? No. To be a wood elf is a way of life which infiltrates every aspect of our being. The core tenet of our faith is to maintain a personal harmony with the natural world around us. And thus, being a wood elf is determined by how we eat, how we drink, how we build our homes, travel the world around us, and sing our songs, and understand our past.

The Learning Lodge is an institution of teachers based primarily in the mali’ame village of Siramenor. Each teacher specializes in providing public open lessons about aspects of mali’ame culture and mali’ame living to the young in our lands, so that they may learn the ways of their ancestors, and keep our way of life alive for future generations.

Hunting 

The horns of Cernunnos, mark of the hunter.

Contrary to the beliefs of outsiders, we are not a vegetarian people. Fresh meat is important to our cuisine, we simply believe that meat should be hunted honourably from natural lands, from wild animals with integrity, rather than through the flattening and taming of land so that shamefully deformed domesticate livestock may graze. Any self respecting wood elf should know how to track, trap, kill, then prepare wild game, as our holy Horned Lord Cernunnos demands!

The following elves provide public lessons on the art of the hunt.

Aerilith of Oakenarrow

Taeral of Caerme’onn

Kaelwyn of Caerme’onn

Seafaring

The mark of Hamatsa, Prince of the Sea.

A large number of the ancient Irrinite Tribes made their livings off the rivers or the sea. To this day, the mariner’s life plays a crucial role in the culture of wood elven society. Mali’ame are the best canoe builders in the world, as well as excellent gillnetters and spearfishers. We are blessed to have experienced kin of the River Tribes to teach our young the delicate art of shipcraft and fishing.

The following elves provide public lessons on the art of the sea.

Laetranis of Tahorran

Freyja Artanis

Tanyl of Caerme’onn

Healing

The flowers of Cerridwen, mark of the healer.

Healing, both mundane and druidic, is a deeply ingrained institution in mali’ame society. The wisewomen, elders and medicine men who practice the ancient art of herblore have an intimate knowledge of the natural medicines of the forest, and their ability to apply the bounties of the forest to sundered, sickly or diseased flesh is second to none. We are blessed to have Irrinite healers of great renown to teach our people the gentler art, and spread the love of the Blessed Springmother Cerridwen!

The following elves provide public lessons on the art of healing.

Skylar of Taliame’onn

Amaryllis of Taliame’onn

Sonna of Sirame

Warriorship 

The teeth of Morea, the mark of the warrior.

As a collective, we mali’ame are not a warlike people. Nevertheless, we have a proud warrior culture, borne from centuries of defending ourselves from those who would take our young as slaves, and wipe our culture off the face of the earth. Time and again our dog soldiers have slain wicked men who dare to incur into our forests at the point of spear, bow and tomahawk. Now it is time for those who have fought to teach the art of war to our young, so that they too may learn how to defend our precious forests. May the Wolf and Boar Princes imbue bravery, cunning and indomitability to our brave rangers who take up the ironwood point for their people.

The following elves provide public lessons on the art of war.

Taliyun’orrir of Sirame

Kaelwyn of Caerme’onn

Taeral of Caerme’onn

Rhathalas of Caerme’onn

History

The mark of Ohowaki, the Owl Prince of Scholars.

What is a people and a culture, if not the collective memory of a shared story? Our history is critical to preserving our identity as a people, and what a history it is! Through the jaws of warfare, betrayal, gods and kings, our people have survived in a world that has oft tried to snuff us out. Throughout it all, our harmony with the natural world and its wild Gods of the Aspect and Mani has made us more adaptable than all our past demons. The elders of Siramenor proudly teach our past to young mali’ame, so that our collective story may live in on them, as it has for generations in the past.

The following elves provide public lessons on the history of our people.

Awaiti of Sirame

Aenor of Calithil

Religious Lore

The marks of Cernunnos and Cerridwen, when together make the core balance of the mali’ame faith.

Rituals, prayers, rites, and the sacred lilt of the old elvish tongue. While it is true that you can be true to our gods by simply living a natural life, there are also a whole litany of religious rituals that can and should be observed by any mali’ame pious to the Wild Gods of the Forest. Within our faith there are many creeds, ways of thinking and seeing the world, and of understanding the sacred Aspects and Mani. It is important for a young mali’ame to know how to pray, when to pray, and when it is appropriate to pay supplications to which of the Gods.

The following elves provide public lessons on the religious lore of our people.

Awaiti of Sirame

Eryn of Sirame

Skylar of Taliame’onn

Music and Performance

The wings of Kwakwani, the raven prince of poetry, trickery and song.

We are not a wholly solemn, austere people. Laughter and joy is the most important antidote to any healthy society, and over the centuries our people have developed many ways to invoke revelry out of our brothers and sisters. We sing, we dance and we perform stories of our gods, our myths and our ancient ancestors. No people has greater dancers and musicians than the mali’ame! It may seem frivolous, but these festivities are as important as warfare and faith, for only through a society bonded together through shared joy may we build a family that can last for generations.

The following elves provide public lessons on the musical arts of our people. 

Revin the Songbird

Aerilith of Oakenarrow

Cooking

The tail of Meracahe, the beaver prince of  craftsmen and culinary artisans.

The Irrinites have an ancient and rich culinary tradition. We harvest a cornucopia of foods from our natural lands. Wood elf cuisine is a tapestry of natural meats like elk, boar, salmon, natural herbs like lichens, kelp, wild rices, and wild fruits like soapberries, salmonberries, and other delicacies either tart, savoury or sweet. We are lucky to have several culinary champions in Siramenor who keep the art of mali’ame cooking alive!

The following elves give public lessons in the culinary arts.

Basilton Kriswynn of Caerme’onn

Laetranis of Tahorran

Peoples and Cultures of Elvenesse

The realm of Elvensse is made up of an alliance of two cousin peoples, the Almenodrim, known in the common tongue as the Sea Elves, and the Irrinites, known in the common tongue as the Wood Elves. We present this guide to this ancient land and her diverse peoples so visitors with good intent may familiarize themselves with our cultures, and so elven pilgrims returning to live among their kin may come to relearn the ways of their ancestors.

The Almenodrim

Appearance

The Almenodrim, commonly known as Sea Elves or less often Grey Elves, are a constituent People among the folk of Elvenesse. The name “Almenodrim” comes from their legendary homeland Almenor, wherein their forebear Sylvaen Everflame reigned as Prince. Sea Elves tend to be taller and more broad-shouldered than their Wood Elven cousins, with hair generally tending between blond, red, and black and only rarely deviating. They are typically fair-skinned, but as interbreeding with Wood Elves is not frowned upon there are some darker shades among them.

The Almenodrim are fond of fine clothing primarily in red, gold, and other autumnal colours, and pride themselves in embroidery and all manners of decoration. They are extremely capable metalworkers and gemsmiths, and as such Elves of a certain station tend to adorn themselves in fine armours and jewelry of exceptional fineness. 

Culture

The sons and daughters of Almenor are with few exceptions proud of their holdfast and history, and value personal honour highly; the spirit of fire associated with their ancestor burns true within their hearts, and ire comes more easily to them than to other Elves. Grudges and feuds are seldom left unpunished when slight (perceived or true) has been done upon them- though these resolutions may come many generations later. Some who bear the blood are by this virtue grim, and even dark-hearted- but most tend towards a nobility of spirit, and do no evil.

Of all the peoples of Elvendom the forge-craft of the Almenodrim is widely considered chiefest and greatest; by virtue of their friendships with the Dwarves they long ago grew wiser in the lores of metals and gems, and developed their own styles to better suit their Elven natures. Therefore the steel wrought of their forges is considered to be among the best in the world, and is prominently reinforced with woven natural magics and other, more secret arts which are taught only to few. The citadel of Aegrothond is one of the only places outside the Dwarven mountains in which one might encounter the legendary art of Runesmithing.

In addition to the above, the sea-borne nature of the Almenodrim has granted them an inherent skill in all arts, naval and maritime. The ships wrought by the Sea Elves are famously swift, made with arts passed down through the generations.

Great Houses

The Sea Elves are led by their Great Houses (Ancient Elvish: Mar'linan), which form a backbone of their culture and community. Unlike the Seeds of the Wood Elves or Clans of the Dark Elves, a family must be able to definitively prove descent from one of Malin's primary sons in order to qualify for the rank of 'Great House'. If a family does not meet these qualifications but still upholds the Tenets and Laws of the Almenodrim, they are referred to simply as a 'House' until ennobled by the ruling Princely House. This is done rarely, and while blood is held in high regard, such families (and indeed House-less Elves) are not looked down upon and may participate on equal footing with the rest of the Almenodrim.

The Irrinites

Appearance

Irrinites are more commonly known as Wood Elves, or mali’ame. The demonym ‘Irrinite’ comes from the mythical Irrin Sirame, the ancient warriorress said to be the mother of all wood elf tribes. Irrinites are shorter in stature and darker in skin than their Almenodrim cousins. They tend to have darker shades of hair ranging between black, brown or copper red. Irrinites with lighter hair or fairer skin are fairly common, for interbreeding with Almenodrim and mali’thilln is not looked down upon, resulting in some paler bloodlines.

They wear clothes woven from naturistic materials like soft bark, leathers, furs, and silks. It’s a common misconception that these fae-like woodland peoples dress only in shades in green, when infact Irrinites pride themselves on colour and vibrancy. Most Irrinites are tattooed in colourful markings called ilmyumier, which usually represent their naturalistic Gods, or their tribes.

Culture

Above all else, wood elven culture is based around maintaining a perfect harmony with the natural world on a personal and community level. This is reflected in the naturalistic spirits they worship. The highest two gods are the Aspects: Cernunnos, the father of winter and autumn and Cerridwen, the mother of summer and spring. Irrinites believe that these two imbue their opposite energies into all living things, creating a perfect balance of life and death in the natural world. Wood Elves maintain this balance in their everyday lives, and through their lifestyles aim to have as little of an impact on their beloved forests as possible. In gathering food for example, they prefer hunting and natural foraging to farming and raising livestock, which flattens and tames the land. To avoid harming the wild, Irrinite tribes have developed advanced methods of tree cultivation and wild herd management to ensure they always have enough resources to survive, while maintaining the lush sanctity of their woodland realms. 

Irrinites often draw parallels between themselves and the many wild beasts that inhabit their forests. They worship spirits called Mani, who are primal fae gods, each one the immortal Prince of a species of animal. These Mani imbue the Wood Elves with their spirit and gives them purpose in life. Mali’ame warriors for example channel the energy of Morea the Wolf God, and Moccus the Boar God. Healers and wisewomen will pray to Hamatsa, the gentle Prince of the Sea, while scholars and lorekeepers will devote themselves to Ohowaki, the wise Owl Prince Wood Elven tattoos often resemble stylistic depictions of whatever Mani that particular elf worships. 

Irrinites are a peace loving, whimsical, fairy-like people. They love singing, dancing and other revelries, and many of them share their peoples’ ancient histories through ritualistic performance. However, there is also a deeply embedded warrior culture among them, born from centuries of having to defend their forests from the incursions of invaders from beyond. In battle, wood elves fight quickly and lightly, favouring the bow, spear and tomahawk and light armour, so as to be agile and fleet footed. 

The Seeds

The Irrinites are organized into a number of Seeds, known also as tribes or clans. Each Seed has its own distinctive tribal tattoo which wood elves can use to discern who belongs to which tribe. The Seeds are diverse, each one baring different values and customs. Although they all worship from the same wider pantheon of Wood Elven gods, certain Seeds will prioritize or patronize the worship of some gods in particular. The Caerme’onn for example is a tribe of warriors and protectors, worshipping the Stag Prince Amaethon and the Bear Mother Bolomormaa, while the Arvellon Seed is a tribe of artists and tricksters who worship Kwakwani the Raven and Felixii the Wildcat. 

Seeds are the main means of social organization in mali’ame society. Most wood elves belong to one, and those who don’t more often than not eventually join one. This is because a wood elven tribe is not bound by blood, and many of them commonly adopt young elves willing to learn their ways and go through the trials of joining. To bare the ilmyumier (tattoo) of any mali’ame seed is a great honour and seen as a sign of upholding an ancient cultural tradition. 

-=+ The Honour Guard of Elvenesse +=-

Sworn singularly to the Crown of Elvenesse, the Honour Guard was founded upon the demand for greater infrastructure in wake of an expansion of the Princedom.  Forged upon the backs of the Almendorim and the House of Sylvaen, these solemn warriors of the citadel exist to defend the legacy of Malin and to unite Malin’s people under one great banner. 

Tenets

As the front-line protectors of the Princedom of Elvenesse, the Honour Guard are the righteous custodians of the law and the people.  Therefore, in accordance with this existence, each member must swear to uphold these seven binding tenets. It is by these laws that cohesive order is maintained and brotherhood is forged. 

1. Devote yourself to Elvenesse and the Crown.  You shall hold no other allegiance.

2. Embrace chivalry and courtesy.  Show respect in your actions, for you represent the Guard.

3. To strike one of us is to strike us all.  Defend your brothers; fight as one.

4. Protect the innocent.  Stand and fight until you can fight no longer.

5. To the righteous, act with honour.  To the deceitful, extend no quarter.

6. Act not against your brothers.  To betray the Guard is to betray Elvenesse.

7.  You are the herald of the Crown.  Safeguard the laws of the Princedom.

Rank Structure

Grandmaster

Supreme leader of the Honour Guard and the foremost field-commander of the Princedom’s military.  They bear absolute authority over the various companies of the Guard, answering only to the Prince himself or his Council, and shall coordinate the defence of Elvenesse during times of war.

Lieutenant

Proven and adaptable veterans; it is the Lieutenant’s duty to serve as second-in-command of the Honour Guard, effectively discipline those beneath them, relay field-commands and act as de facto Grandmaster in the event of their absence.

Armiger

Dedicated veterans of the Honour Guard; those who bear this title are recognised by their peers as stalwart soldiers, dedicated to the defence of Elvenesse.  They are expected to act as Standard-Bearers, capable of rousing and leading their fellow Battle-Brothers into the fires of war. 

Sentinel

Those who have passed the trials of initiation and proven themselves a worthy blade shall attain this rank, ascending to a fully inducted member of the Honour Guard.  They are the bulwark of the Princedom and stand shoulder-to-shoulder as its main line of defence.

Aspirant

A rank exclusive to the uninitiated; it is attained by those who bear the banner of the Honour Guard, but are yet to pass the trials that would determine them fit to be fully-fledged warriors of Elvenesse.  Typically one does not bear the status for long, as they need only prove their worth to the Grandmaster and their Battle-Brothers.

Distinctions and Specialisations

Oathblade

Earning their namesake from the traditional defenders of Aegrothond; an Oathblade is an honorary status bestowed to members of the Honour Guard by the Prince himself.  Whilst the distinction carries no authority in itself, these individuals are often distinguished and loyal warriors, trusted with guarding the Prince and acting as the personal guard of House Sylvaen.

Forgemaster

A noted specialisation earned by those who prove to be expert craftsmen.  Forgemasters are responsible for tending to the smithy and supplying the Honour Guard with effective equipment.  They may see to the crafting of armaments, siege weapons and mentoring those who seek to follow in their profession.

Apothecary

Those who bear this distinction are specialists in the medical field, recognised not only for their skill with medicine but also a level-headed nature in their practise.  Apothecaries are expected to operate upon the wounded of the Honour Guard, during the thick of battle if necessary, and function as basic paramedics should the need arise.

Shipmaster

Mariners who’ve adapted their trade for military service; Shipmasters are experts at the helm, capable of wrestling their vessels through the roughest conditions.  They are expected to effectively coordinate Elvenesse’s navy, provide council in the midst of naval combat and coordinate Honour Guard expeditions out at sea.

Trials of Initiation

For an Aspirant to be fully inducted into the Honour Guard, they must first go through a set of trials, overseen by a veteran of their company.  Upon the completion of these trials, a ceremony will then be held by either the Grandmaster or his Lieutenants, recognising the uninitiated as a Sentinel and a fully inducted protector of Elvenesse.

Trial by Combat

As a soldier of the Honour Guard and protector of Elvenesse, one must prove that they are capable of handling a weapon.  Thus, an Aspirant must face an inducted member of the Honour Guard in single-combat. Whether standing victorious or lying in defeat, this trial proves to be a reminder of the rigorous road ahead and the quality in which they should aspire to maintain.

Trial by the Mast

The Almendorim are a sea-faring folk, used to traversing the strangest tides of the realm.  In keeping with this tradition, each Aspirant must undertake a mentorship with a capable mariner of Elvenesse, thus providing them with the ability to crew a ship should the need arise.

Trial by the Forge

For centuries, the Almendorim have taken pride in their skills with the forge, crafting suitable armour and weapons of untarnishable quality.  Undertaking a mentorship with a smith of Elvenesse, the Aspirant must craft themselves a ring, of which they shall then present to their overseer - a token reminder of their status as a member of the Honour Guard. 

Application

-=Roleplay=-

Name:

Race:

Age:

Are you a citizen of Elvenesse:

Previous military experience (Not necessary):

-=OOC=-

MCname:

Discord (Required):

~Overview~

The Maehr’evar is an Alemodrim-based scholastic guild which seeks to collect, preserve, study, and index knowledge and/or artifacts of any kind. Though secretive to the world outside The Crown of Elvenesse, the Order does not limit itself to work only within Aegrothond’s walls. With the realm as their workspace, The Maehr’evar follows every possible lead, creates relations with other scholastic groups, and attempts to both protect and inform the descendant races.

~The Order’s Objectives~

I

To index and organize all available knowledge under a single scholastic order to preserve said knowledge for future generations.

II

To obtain and contain artifacts, pieces of knowledge, or specimens which would pose a risk to the descendant races.

III

To identify incursions which could pose a risk to the livelihood of the descendant races, and coordinate amongst them to defeat such forces.

IV

To inform and teach descendants on a broad-range of topics which can improve upon their knowledge, profession, or overall wellbeing.

~The Maeh’evar Tenets~

All members of The Maehr’evar are required to uphold and follow the tenets detailed below. Any action which could be considered breaking any of said tenets could result in a removal from The Order.

I

Unwarranted Harm Or Death Should Be Avoided At All Cost.

The Maehr’Evar seek to improve the world with knowledge, not destroy it.

II

All Fellow Ordermen, Regardless Of Origin Or Race, Shall Be Treated With Respect.

Your fellow Ordermen are your siblings under The Maehr’evar, treat them as such.

III

The Sovereignty And Laws of All Nations Are To Be Respected And Followed.

The Maehr’evar are not criminals nor pillagers. Do not put your assignment above national law.

IV

All Forms of Knowledge Are To Be Treated With Respect.

Regardless of what said knowledge is, it shall not be burned, ripped, or destroyed in any other capacity.

V

All Property Discovered Whilst Acting As Maehr’evar Belongs To The Order

If you’re acting as a member of The Maehr’evar, what is found is also of The Maehr’evar.

VI

Displayed Seed Relics Are Capable Of Being Reclaimed By Said Seeds

The Houses of Almenor (e.g Sylvaeri, Silma, Kaeronin) are capable of placing relics of their houses on display within Maehr’evar properties while still holding ownership of said items. They are required to be returned upon the seed’s head’s request.

-=The Order’s Organization=-

The Maehr’evar organize themselves under a hierarchical system overseen by a single individual known as the Grandmaster. Despite the Grandmaster being the sole leader of The Maehr’evar, multiple ranks are capable of being awarded to an orderman to increase their overall say and standing. 

Grandmaster

The sole leader of The Maehr’evar, The Grandmaster is responsible for the success and wellbeing of the Order as a whole, as well as its individual members. All decisions capable of changing the Order’s structure or livelihood must be approved by the Grandmaster. With much of the decision making falling onto them, the Grandmaster rarely leaves the central library for assignments or any other task not requiring their immediate attention. Seen as the ‘face’ of The Maehr’evar, the Grandmaster is expected to act professionally at all times, as their required experience and respect would warrant.

Master

The Masters of The Maehr’evar are of the highest regard amongst the Order, being chosen directly by the Grandmaster themself for their excellence and experience. If the Grandmaster were to be unavailable for an extended period of time, the Masters as a whole would act as a regent-council until their return. If a Grandmaster were to step down, their replacement is to only be chosen by someone holding the rank of Master. Often acting as the Grandmaster’s eyes and ears outside of the central library during day-to-day life, the Masters are expected to hold themselves at a standard similar to that of the Grandmaster. Many of the Grandmaster's less pressing tasks are divided amongst the Masters, which in return are viewed as almost ‘second in command’ of The Maehr’evar.

Elder

The seasoned veterans of The Maehr’evar, Elders of the Order are those who have dedicated their time and energy for the benefit of the Order as a whole. Those awarded this position are recognized for their experience and expertise in their fields, and often head up research teams or minor projects required within The Maehr’evar. Those who fall under the rank of Elder are capable of promotion to Master only by the Grandmaster themself.

Scholar

Making up the majority of the Maehr’evar, the Scholars are those ordermen who have been accepted fully into the Order. These members are those wishing to make a name for themselves within the ranks, partaking in projects, research assignments, scouting missions, and any other activities thrown through the halls. 

Initiate

Initiates to the Maehr’evar are those new to the Order who have yet to be accepted as fully-fledged members. These individuals often assist Scholars or higher-ranking members with projects or assignments in order to prove themselves to The Maehr’evar. To be fully accepted into the Order, the Initiate must be accepted by the Grandmaster or a Master.

~The Seals~

In order to protect the general populace and to keep intricate records, every piece of knowledge, regardless of format, is given a seal representing its importance, rarity, or danger. The five rankings below determine which items are capable of being shown to the public, or are required to be detained for the safety of the descendant races. 

I - Mundane

Marked with the numeral I, Mundane pieces of knowledge are those commonly found amongst the realm and/or descendants, and pose absolutely no threat to the outside world. Most pieces of literature, plant matter, common crafts, and common animal parts would fall under this category. All pieces marked with an I are capable of leaving the Order’s holdings  through regular approval.

II - Rare

Marked with the numeral II, Rare pieces of knowledge are those uncommonly found amongst the realm and/or descendents, which pose no or minor threats to the outside world. Pieces that would contain the II marking would typically consist of uncommon creature parts, some magical weaponry and/or armor, minor clan/seed relics, or non-mass produced pieces of literature. All pieces marked with an II do not typically leave the Order’s holdings, but are capable of doing so with proper approval.

III - Guarded

Marked with the numeral III, Guarded pieces of knowledge are those known to be threatening to the descendant races, and therefore require specific containment issued  by The Maehr’ever. Considered to be the lowest level of threatening pieces, some are capable of being displayed if properly contained. Pieces containing the III marking typically consist of unstable magical items, dark tomes, or minor unstudied finds. These pieces are only capable of leaving the Order’s holdings if approved by the Grandmaster or a Master.

IV - Prohibited

Marked with the numeral IV, Prohibited pieces of knowledge are those too dangerous to be displayed to the public, and are required to be kept under the protection of The Maehr’evar.  Typical pieces falling under this category would be some dark artifacts, magical items of unknown potential, and items containing dangerous unknown properties. The items marked with the IV are only capable of leaving the Order’s holdings by the Grandmaster’s direct approval.

V -  Containment

Marked with the numeral V, Containment pieces of knowledge are those capable of harming the descendant races beyond measure, and thus must never leave the hands of The Maehr’evar. Due to these items being such potential threats, if there is even the slightest chance of them falling into foreign hands, the Ordermen are required to destroy them at all costs. Though few items fall under this category, typical items could be remnants of major descendant threats, otherworldly objects, and corrupted items and/or tomes.

~Becoming an Orderman~

To join The Maehr’evar, one must complete the application attached below and send it to be approved by either the Grandmaster, Edrahil Sylvaeri ((Treatycole)), or one of the Order’s Masters. Once approved, the applicant must be interviewed by one of the members listed above before being given the rank of Initiate.

Application

Name:

Race:

Age:

Place of Residence:

Scholarly Background (N/A if none):

.

The Library of Aegrothond

    After years of dusty shelves, tattered banners, and inactive classes, The Almenorian Library has finally reopened to the public. Aiming to assist in the education of the commonwealth of Aegrothond, the library offers a wide variety of knowledge, ranging from history, to fiction, to magical information. Through the guidance of Librarian Edrahil Sylvaeri, the library seeks to expand its commodities to that of classes, expeditions, and many other possibilities.

    The library is open at all times to the people of Aegrothond, so please stop in, either to expand upon your knowledge, or meet the resident librarian. Send a bird to Edrahil Sylvaeri with any questions.

O’Cirus Adventuring Guild

Located in The Principality of Aegrothond 

The O’Cirus Adventuring Guild was originally conceived on the 24th of Mailin’s Welcome, 1757. It was created so that young folk who were lost in the big world can find a place to not only find work and put food in their bellies but a place to call home and a place they can have purpose in. The Adventuring Guild by design is meant for people to take odd jobs from looking folks and be paid for them as a network for working hands. 

For those who seek more daring adventures it might perhaps be where they can do so with safety and security, perhaps by finding new equipment to protect them or to learn new techniques to better prepare themselves for their next quest. 

The O’Cirus Adventuring Guild is partnered with many resources to aid adventurers in pursuing their mission. And comes complete with a Tavern to rest and relax between quests. Several merchants that are tasked to tailor to the individual Adventurer. Smiths to repair and reforge armor and weapons to keep every adventurer comfortable and safe in their own armor. The off chance that something goes awry on a quest the O’Cirus Adventuring Guild has trained and proficient medical staff ready and able to put you back on your feet. 

Adventuring would be nothing without the good folk of the realm to bring quests to it. Quests would update regularly with exciting and challenging missions for an Adventurer to take upon themselves to complete. The Guild is an ever expanding network of employers with a quest to be fulfilled and Adventurers who are able bodied to fulfill that quest. 

Em’Mainuel O’Cirus

Guild Master