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Whispers of Aegrothond

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The Blue Forest, by Cassiopeia Art


Whispers are strange things. They begin as small expulsions of breath in misty air, that are somehow cast as far and wide as a fisherman’s net by the time the week is up. Somesuch whispers flit across the continent of Atlas, skittering across city flagstones and weaving their way through ageless meadows. Aegrothond, the whispers echo, tumbling from lips not hushed from secrecy, but rather an unwillingness to wear their hearts on their sleeves.


The soughing of words between buildings and ancient trees speak of a far-off island, and its enigmatic denizens. Elven, that much is certain, of all varieties provided they are pure of heart and clear of mind. No shackles gird their feet, no crowns of metal sting their brows. A host of free elves, resting within a bastion of peace and untarnished Elvendom.



An eastern tower, limned with the light of dawn.


Those who listen closely to the soft-spoken conversations will become familiar with a story. That Aegrothond, this home of free elves, was founded by House Sylvaeri, following the banishment of its Lord from the city of Caras Eldar in 1679. It had originally been a noble seat for that venerable Elven house, until the Dominion of Malin itself began to crumble. The Dominion’s slow stagnation has left many elves with little option-- they have no desire to gain residency in the successor state, and fear the southern lands which have been largely dominated by humans for decades.


And so whispers continue to dart this way and that, permeating the ears and minds of purehearted elves. Personal accounts join the fray, solidifying what was once vague murmurings into forge-hardened truths: the crimson banner of House Silma, depicting Malin’s brightly burning flame, flies strong and true beside that of Sylvaeri. Aureon ilmyumier can be seen adorning the arms of many residents, including the Lady of Aegrothond herself. Joy, peace, and prosperity abound, with laughter and music threaded through the pealing of Caras Eldar’s goliath bronze bell.



The great hall.


It is said that the elves of Aegrothond find you, as opposed to the reverse. That her shores are barred to all who mean to bring war and bloodshed. Listen to the whispers, children of Malin, and you may find the halls of Aegrothond rising up on a dusk darkened horizon in your future.

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