The Bellkeeper Sings To The Trees

[Swgrclan 2682]

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=8kl2DIKbtGc

The break of dawn was something peaceful over the walls of Elven craft that vanguarded the golden, the ashen and the woodlike; it did not come in the form of a bright day whence the skies are clear and cloudless. Thick fog lingered these territories this morning, and incandescent sunlight reached past the heavy mist above; and amongst this, the land was quiet. The birds were hushed, and wildlife that would dare draw toward the Elven walls were nowhere to be seen. But one thing could be heard past the distant fog:

The ringing of a bell. A warning, perhaps? Maybe a calling to those beyond the walls. Nay... it was simply a notification, a droning notion of visitation. The one who rang this bell, brass in form and with but a simple handle attached to the old tool, slowly steps from the fog. Hosting a strange gait akin to a half-limp, the distant thinly figure who wielded but a hand-bell seemed... sickly, for the robe of black rags that clung to it's person was far too slimmed, as if the figure bore little weight at all -- much like the form of a cadaver long decayed.

The robed one stood before what gate or obstruction that stood guard over the city-sect which harbored those of bronze skin and affinity to the trees; but it stood a distance, as if it did not seek entrance, but sought another to come out to meet it.

The fog-obscured sunlight gleamed off the surface of what appeared to be a crown, jagged and of black iron and hidden under the hood whence this bellringer's identity hides - a sign of nobility, perhaps? Time has worn that crown fit for kings, which would say something about the one who wore it.

Once again, with the flick of a wrist nothing but skeletal, the bellringer shared it's peaceful chiming; a persistance for contact. But who would approach this omnious figure, so early in the morning? This one bore no slaying steel, but it's visage was certainly an odd one.

Who would dare approach the Bellkeeper?

[Arkelos 1027]

Ytahu would spot the Bellkeeper in the distance, ears twitching as his small runty form of about four feet stood up. Walking from his place in the ground as he left his tiny imprint in the ground. Curious eyes wandered to the figure, grinning lightly as he continues on. Some may say that the runty Mali'ame was just a child, but at forty five years old. He would approach the Bellkeeper with a happy;

 

"Hiya, how ya doin' Jingly maker?"

 

It would sink in the appearance of the man was a mere mirage from afar, eyes narrowing as he bore witness to the Skeletal, nearly weightless frame, he stood his ground however. Remaining slightly confident that he would be able to outrun the muscle less figure. Waiting for the Bellkeeper to speak.

[Swgrclan 2682]

A soft groan would echo from the depths of the Old Bellkeeper's crowned hood; mere the shift of age-old joints who protest to it's movements. A studious gaze was cast upon the short one, and it took little time to absorb the smaller figure's features like it had the smaller figure to the Bellkeeper's. "Short-statured being," the Bellkeeper addressed, "where are your Druian? Your scribes? Your brethren, confined to this new land? When the bell rings, it rings for those who listen; and thise long ears do nothing but." It spoke in smooth, dry rhetoric; tired, but wise in it's own manner.

"I have a story to tell to your people."

[Arkelos 1027]

The small figure would grin to the figure as it was address, listening closely to his requests as his ears perked up. Thinking of the answers as the Bellkeeper would ask. He looks to him, his dirty hair and scarred body, a Fractal scar given to him by a Storm's lightning  could be seen as he speaks.

 

"Ytahu knows where Druidic Ones are, they are behind ya, detached from the Elven ones. They're down the road, not sure why they left us.." He nods, "Nobody to build, so all the writing ones have left." He offers him a Letter to Malin's People #9. "They all scattered, broken, The Mali'ame are not as close as they was, Ytahu thinks."

 

The smaller runty figure then decides to introduce itself, "Ytahu's name is Ytahu, nice to meetcha. Ytahu will listen to you."

[Swgrclan 2682]

The boney figure of Old takes hold of the parchment offered; bell clasped tight in a hand that appears quite evidently fleshless at such a proximity yet moves nonetheless. A short scan it was, just like studying nigh dwarf-like Ytahu was. "I ask for many ears, but you hand me a writ of disassembly; a script of sunderance. Nay... you alone shall not listen to this tale."

Mr. Treemail's eloquent message was tucked into the Bellkeeper's downtrodden robe before the wise one's patient gaze returned to Ytahu's person. "Go, Ytahu of Malin, and gather your kin in the city. All must hear of the Bellkeeper's words."

[Arkelos 1027]

Ytahu would stand straight, walking back into the city as The Bellkeeper would hear hollers of "Jingly Man wants to speak with Mali'ame, come to gates please!" quite a few times. His calls for attention more like squeaks as the city lay quiet for a while, and then Ytahu would hollar it once more. hoping all would hear his message as he goes to any Mali'ame he sees, directing them to the gate.

 

 

((And now we play the waiting game))

[__WaterFox__ 636]

Alirya leans against the trunk of the tree she sits upon, making no sound to indicate her prrscence there. Having heard the last of the bell keepers conversation with Yahtu, she grins amusedly

[susitsu 871]

A human figure with distinctly Northerner traits quietly takes his place against some trees nearby. Keeping his face-mask pulled up over his mouth, his green eyes study the Bellkeeper with certain anticipation. Whatever brings this man here appears unknown, but he definitely seems like he has no interest in being conversational. His imposing physical figure certainly suggest trying to force him to talk to you would be rather rude.

[Dry Crackers 268]

Emanaf Delsaran descends the hill on one of his many expeditions to Haelun'or. He notices the mysterious figure and stands nearby, tense and waiting.

[[ Lets do it, and let people join in later. ]]

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Elorna emerges from the gate, leaning heavily upon a staff that appears to be a living tree branch. She approaches the thin, robed figure but keeps her distance, looking him up and down. She takes in a long breath, then lets it out with a rasp and a single word. "What?"

[TeaLulu 1783]

From off to the side one watches the approach of the gaunt figure, the ringing of the bell having drawn her ear. But as she observes the figure, the manner in which it walks and stands, an uneasy feeling emerges from the pit of her now-churning stomach. Her eyes darted rapidly from the feet of the figure to the crown of it's head, noting the clinging robes; the ungainly limp; the weightless features. 

The cloaked and hooded figure, dirt coated robes and face, slunk back from the scene, circling the wall to lean against the hidden corner for support as she swallowed what sick rose from the pit of her anxious stomach. Beads of sweat, though unnoticeable under the hood, formed upon her brow, creating thin streaks of clean, dirt-free flesh upon her face. Despite her visceral, gut reaction, an instinctive response, she clung to the stone of the wall upon hearing mention of a story.

A story to be told was a story to be heard, better yet if it was one not yet known. She lingered to listen, careful to stay out of sight.
 

[Swgrclan 2682]

Two- nay... three, four, and more now have gathered for the Bellkeeper's tale; not the prime the old one sought, but it was what was available. The bell is chimed once more, and all those who peer upon the frail being would feel a mellow calm-- a case of trickery, to deceive others of it's dire form in plain view? Perhaps, but this old Bellkeeper had nothibg to hide. The crown already says what the keeper does not.

"Transient being," the figure addressed the masked newcomer, whom it thought but a traveler wayward in his ways. A second face may say much, "it is pleasing to find another so obscure, but bearing interest. And you--" the Bellkeeper turns to Alirya, "...one hopes you remain for the story."

There was a distinctive pause for the bellringer before it rang it's chime once more. "This dissertion of the long-eared... it reflects the fate of long-lost Old Ones whose names I cannot recall, for nary a parchment nor page shelter the histories my words entail." Another pause passed, and the bell was shaken to sing it's song, as if it was apart of the tale itself. "They call them dragonkin, much like the monsters that haunted the Old North, which remains but an island with so much water to surround it."

With another ring of the bell and the rise of the Bellkeeper's alternate hand, it seemed to draw... pictures, within the fog; surely sorcery, but of no definition. The fog shapes and forms into rough features and vague depictions. One takes the form of a great winged beast of scales, while others seem to form into a valley; a land. "There were four followings, but for now we only speak of one-- the flight of the Paledrake, the serpent king, He Who is Blinded by the Fog."

Several fog-drawn dragons no bigger than the Bellkeeper's thinly hand seem to drift from the beyond, only to... change. A tale of silence and degeneration only hindered by the rhetoric of the old Bellkeeper.

"Much like ye Elven kindred, the Pale One sought to bring peaceful seclusion and great knowledge to His followibg. He sought out the Valley of Fog, far from the ancestral lands of the Four upon the land's decimation, but the fog deceived Him and His following; offering peace for change, for the fog was cruel and mirrors this exodus that splits Malin's children through and through."

The bell chimes once more as the Bellkeeper fell to silent pause; as if awaiting for someone to inquire thus far into it's take yet unfinished.

[Swgrclan 2682]

[[ Pardon the double post, and I apologize for the late reply. Got home from work. ]]

[__WaterFox__ 636]

Alirya lets out a huff of air then quietly slips away, none of her business after all

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Elorna furrows her brow as she observes the display in the fog. "Changed... by the arcane, I presume?"