A New Elven Face!

[DISCOLIQUID 2702]

Navarre walks down the gravel road, panting from her long journey to Athera. She lets out an annoyed sign before coming to a halt before the bustling Elven city, Annil'sul. Navarre inhales deeply, refreshing herself before pausing; she waits for a few minutes before guiding herself into the city. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once within the city, Navarre pads around for short moments. She brushes her fingers over the signs and closely reads the text upon the wooden information boards. Inhaling deeply, Navarre takes in the scent of the city. Her nostrils fill with the broad aroma of roasting meat and the familiar scent of birch. The clopping of hooves against stone brushes against her ears and she moves from the large Elf riding a horse. Navarre makes her way to the Wood Elven district, where she stops and eyes the movement of small, brown animals who dance and flit throughout the verdant foliage of the area. Navarre's lips flash in a smile, and for a time she simply waits and stares at the life. As Navarre passes from the greenery coated with the spouts of birch trees, she trails a hand along the stone of the city. Her feet take her forward - though her eyes drag a content look across the open sky. Before Navarre realizes it, she has arrived back upon the Stone Road that permeates the majority of Athera. She marches onwards, only stopping at places where the hearty smells of food jump out and into the road. As Navarre crosses over the stone bridge, she turns into the Druid's Grove and begins her official search. 

 

 

Navarre ascends the massive tree. The bark is silent under her practiced steps. As she climbs higher, higher, Navarre's gaze no longer passes the world without direction. Her views go everywhere; in frantic darts, she looks for proof. She finds none of his work. Of her father's power. As Navarre reaches the peak of the tree, it is only the encompassing view of nature that gives her a pause. Her eyes scan over the lush thickets of the Grove, of Annil'sul. In the distance, a smaller Grove begins - one of Birch, in a meadow not far from the city of the Elven people. Shaking herself from this daze, Navarre descends the tree. Her heart sinks as she finds herself descending under the earth. She searches for him, for her Father. 

 

 

 

It is not until Navarre reaches the room of the Demi-Aspects does she realize what may be the truth of her father. As she shuffles solemnly through the vines, her eyes drag across the grass. She only looks up after a long moment of hope. As her gaze scrapes across the room, she finds the proof. A simple sign, held to the wall by simple vines, symbolized unsimple emotions. Loss, remorse, pain. Navarre sunk to her knees and let out a lamentation of her sadness. She curled up for some time before slowly rising; exhausted by her unwanted discovery. She languidly lays a hand upon the memorial for Callax, the Reformer, a Druid who laid out the truth for the Order and established balance in a world of turmoil. Navarre lets out heavy words through dry lips. They escape as barely more than a whisper.

 

"I'm home now, Dad." 

 

 

 

_______________________________________________________________

 

 

This is the introduction to my newest (or not so new at all) character, 'Navarre'. She'll be getting gritty with some of the Druids who have allowed the Order to slip into chaos. (from her view)

 

Unfortunately, those of who you love our Wood Elf Cleric - Arrea, you'll be seeing less of Arrea as I transition to this newest character. It is my opinion that if the Druids ever needed some help, it would be now. I still consider myself an active member of the Elven community, and if you've got questions about this shift in characters, feel free to ask here in a spoiler, or PM me. 

[(old account) 1]

((That music tho.

[OldeTymer 323]

*|~

 

Somewhere in the realm beyond death, Callax walks the eternal forest of the Aspects with his brothers and sisters who have been long since deceased. Beneath the shadows of the trees' thick canopy, grasses and mushrooms bloom in his footsteps only illuminated by a parade of fireflies trailing far along and behind him. At once, however, he comes to an abrupt halt and stands still and silent; the forest becomes dark and undisturbed, and even the fireflies extinguish their lights. The frail old man's eye lids flutter shut and a tender, warm smile spreads across his lips. The smile is genuine, as no other time would he manage to lift the draping white locks from his chin. With a single tear trickling over the lines of his wizened face, Callax speaks out in a hushed and raspy tone of voice...

 

"Welcome back, my dear."

[Glyc 234]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.