Dying Land, Dying Trees

[Crayfishchris 751]

~ Lenniel, 30th of Sun's Smile, 1454 ~

 

 

The sounds began in the early day. Most of the inhabitants of the small elven town were still asleep, but the sounds of the reformed Demones Manor certainly all who still lived and worked in village. The fires up on the hill were burning once more, and two Harbingers stood, watching over the few slaves who worked the night shift. Fires were being stoked, and workers levied. The forces of Setherien were moving.

 

The strange sickness of the land, emanating from the corrupted manor, had been spreading out over the last few Elven days. Bit by bit, inch by inch, like tentacles from a giant beast it had spread upon the land of the elves, tainting it and changing it to the will of the North.

 

Now, with an increased pace, it began to move. Into the town, past the armored Harbingers standing by. The first one, in garb of black and gold, spoke.

 

"Brother Kaernk... shall we begin?"

 

The second, a reddened Harbinger with a cold air about him, spoke up.

 

"Indeed."

 

The two began shrieking orders to slaves and cultists alike, motioning to the town. Within the next few hours, the slaves were already hard at work at the first of the shops in the secluded elven town. Wood, stone, metal, all these items were taken and brought back to the manor. They came out quite differently. The wood was used for fuel, the stone used for ammunition, the metal used for the armor and weapons of war.

 

"Finally, this town shall be of some use... they shall live in the slave pens... for workers under His will do not need this..."

 

The golden Harbinger pulls at a flower, crushing it beneath his gauntlet.

 

"Such is not the will of Him... such is not the will of Chaos..."

 

"We shall use this place to our advantage, and then make it our own... for certain."

 

"Yes..."

 

The homes begin to fall, the trees begin to burn in the furnaces of the manor. And in the town itself... the corruption begins to take a new form. A strange shape begins to appear... but what it is... none can truly tell yet.

 

((OOC Notes))

 

((Lenniel's going to be undergoing some major changes in the upcoming days. We'll give you guys some time to move out stuff if you so wish, and we'll only take a few buildings a day. However, the corruption's going to take an interesting form. Can't wait for all the RP, folks!

Happy RPing!

-Crayfishchris))

 

[Giga 357]

The Pine Druid watches this occur, swearing an oath to make the ruddy Scourge pay for their damned crimes.

[Old-Rattlesnake 1534]

Somewhere in the Orcish deserts a hooded elf in flowing golden robes turns from pruning cacti and faces the general direction of the Manor. A large, golden vulture descends from the sky and perches on his shoulder.

 

"Not without a fight."

 

[Ford 1996]

((The golden Harbinger pulls at a flower, crushing it beneath his gauntlet.

 

 

))

[Pinsir99 526]

The green cloaked elf stops in her tracks, the snows still piling up around her. With a growl, she turns to make her way back across Anthos.

 

"Not getting away with this one..."

 

[Rassidic 470]

Prey watches the action unfold , before asking herself something.

 

"Isn't Lenniel the 'Ager' of the elven lands?"

[Wolf Druid Ouity 1461]

Ouity prepares his pimp hand.

[Anawkin 247]

"I'd like to see you try." A young dedicant states, leaning upon his staff as he watches the events unfold.

[Ventusyr 233]

The Medicine Man Heshakomeu, taking a break from his soup kitchen cart by the Conclave, looks down over the forests, eyeing the direction of Lenniel suspiciously. He has heard of the menace that is spreading, taking the place he once called home. His grip on his staff tightens.

 

"Rot in the Nether, Setherien."

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

 

Prey watches the action unfold , before asking herself something.

 

"Isn't Lenniel the 'Ager' of the elven lands?"

 

"It's kind of a mix between Ager and Salvus minus all the edgies that were in the latter."

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Above the Druid's Grove, between the two silent statues of the Aspects the, Dove Druid stands facing the corrupted manor across the valley. She clenches both hands around her simple branch staff, and it creaks as thorny, wooden tendrils grow forth from the top. A flaming red phoenix flies out from the forest and lands on her shoulder, trilling a long, low note. The druid responds to the bird in a quiet, resolute voice. "Not this time."

[Kardel 1054]

Kardel looks upon Lenniel as he collects valuable reagents found only in the thick Malinorian forests, and shakes his head, smirking devilishly. As he kneels to cut some Blissfoil from its perch under a large tree, he mutters something quietly under his breath.

 

"Th' s'adow moighta 'ave departed frum da olchemests. . .bot nunthaless 'e remains. Da olchemest nevah doied. . .da s'adou did, an' ye'll see soon. . ."

 

Kardel stands up, and pockets the Blissfoil, putting it gently in his satchel with the rest of the reagents. "Sumetoimes ye gutta foight foire wif foire. . .evil wif evil.. . .s'adou wif s'adou. Abomination wif Abomination." Kardel smiles, looking at his satchel, the flap open wide, revealing the contents inside; a diamond, the plumes of an eagle, a blaze heart wrapped in Athin, and some mermaid scales he bought from a Galmorian Poacher, all pure symbols of earth, air, fire, and water respectivelly. He grins "Beuare. . .even murtals can be as terrible as da ae'teral. . ."

[Swgrclan 2682]

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xEfTac8gJPA
 
The skies... they were clouded with ash, afloat from gusts from wind drawn from the wingspan of a creature of immeasurably size. The town was dying; and only the dead inhabited it, whether they were mere corpses or walking skeletons, charred with the corruption of men damned Northward. High above, the Stone Serpent circled the city of trees -- ever-watchful of what transpires down below. Malghourn's wings cast a black shadow upon the land; a scourge in itself, one that blotted out the sun and it's rays that barely passed through the clouds of ash and coal dust that drift from the broken land's war-torn, hillside garrison.



And upon the ground paced one of dark armored, long since it was scorched and coated in frost of black hue. Patrolling these tainted soils was the High-Dreygur; the Darkstalker, the Shadow of the West. A blade of unholy tainted steel and malignant runes clasped in a gauntlet, Rhaegos watched the land idly by whilst these changes took place; eyes ever-keen with the armies of Setherien at his back.

[Aelu / Rel (Combustionary) 1540]

Relgard grumbles, looking for some more cultists to deface.

[Dr. Eggnog 74]

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