Through the Wind and the Wake

[Chase 3793]

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The military bastion of Talareh’sae, south of Caras Eldar, now New Endmoor after the Atlasian Exodus to Arcas.

 

When tensions rise in the planes of the descendants, one thing is for certain: war. Whether it be nationalism, pride, coin, or personal motive, there is always something which will drive your blade, and loose your arrow in combat. When war erupted in the Dominion of Malin, the bronze-clad Virarim were the first to take up against the Orcish scourge. When distrust rippled through the Dominion, it was Kairn who took up the mantle of High Prince, and later King of Elves to lead the Atlasian Mali’ame into a golden era of militant strength. It was Kairn’s council upon which the Dominion was at the height of it’s span across Atlas. When Kairn lead, victory was not unheard of. The song of triumph was oft heard in the streets of Caras Eldar, and the victories of the Virarim numerous. 

 

Now, upon the Arcasian continent, Elvendom is scattered. From the Sanctuary of Irrinor, to the mountaintop citadels of Tahu’lareh and Berr’lin, to the Elves and Dwarves within the enclosed halls of Aegrothond, to the ebony skinned of Vira’ker; Elvendom remains divided. Long gone are the days of the unity which the Dominion had prospered, and long gone are the days of prominent Elven rulers. Now, in place sit councils of sloth; with intents which rarely supersede personal motives.

 

 

The HMS Retribution of the Ironwood Armada, circa 1681

 

With the Diarchy of Irrinor's establishment, the publishing of the Laws and Mandates, and the revitalization the Sirame Order; the 'ker had completed his work. For now, at least. There would always be reason to brandish steel or to enforce the law, but that would have to wait. However, time does not wait. Time is a constant, and it will outlast everyone, even those who claim immortality. 

 

With these thoughts in mind, Evar'tir brought himself to wake on a dull morning. After his near daily routine of contemplating life for a while, he moved to the door of his room. Though he donned no platemail; instead, he took on his naval coat of emerald tint.

 

A rather crisp, refreshing, though uneventful morning sounded of faint birdsong, alongside the occasional gust of wind. Worn leather boots crunched leaves underfoot as he buried his hands into the pockets of the overcoat. Many had yet to rise, and the sun had just peeked over the canopy ridge east of the settlement. Rays breaching past the branches and bridgework intruded into the windows of the lesser fortunate, as Evar'tir returned to his room. 

He had prepared for a considerable amount of time to set for the seas for the isle which Kairn had been banished by the sky-daemon redtag intrusionists, decades after his mortal vessel was controlled by the spirit of Antonius Horen. However Kairn was back now. Pacified, but he was back. 

 

Regardless, now was as good of a time as any to seek out the foreign lands. So reasonably, Evar'tir scrawled a brief note and left it on his desk. With that, he departed from the chartered lands to Sutica, where he had anchored the warship which he had utilized to cross from Atlas to Arcas during the exodus. 

 

With a company of volunteers, hired crew members, and a potted Tiger Lily; the anchor was raised during the midday sun. Headed eastbound, the Ithelanen-captained ship departed Arcasian waters.