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~❦ A Passing Wind ❦~


Lady_Dietz
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[!] A flock of wood sparrows would soar above Hefrumm, delivering a letter with the sigil of a Grizzly Bear's face to every dwelling of the village.

 

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 ~A Passing Wind~

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I look out upon the village of my kin today, the eve of Armakak’s smile warming the woodland of Hefrumm. From atop my tree trunk dwelling, I watch;

 

Sailors rowing home with fresh sand skippers,

Hunters turning a roasting boar over the fire,

Brewers harvesting barley and berries,

Beardlings dashing about the fields,

Seers scaling the mountain for wisdom,

Snails keeping a watchful, beady eye,

And farmers tending to the first seeds of Sun’s Smile.

 

It was then, as the earth concealed that single seed, a passing wind came. It was the same brisk and warm call that guided me to Hefrumm long ago, the same wind that urged me to lead my kin. A breeze sent by Anbella herself, that has called me to serve once more.

 

Just days before I first embraced the wooden throne, I met a humble, honorable, and quick-witted brewer. He stood by my kin and fought hand in hand with me for everything Anbella’s Hearth deserves. It is now that I stand alongside him, and serve as Grand Queen to the newest Grand King of Urguan, Levian’Tol Grandaxe.

 

I think back on my journey as High Chief, remembering how I gazed upon this quiet village with wide, naive, and eager eyes. I look now at the Village of Hefrumm with pride, honor, and the warmest of Anbella's love. Even through the silent winters and sparse tavern nights, I would go back and do it all again if I could. I hope I have served you well my kin, for a passing wind has led me to a new journey. One, that I believe, will guide all of Urguan to Yemekar’s glory.

 

May you forever nourish Anbella’s seed of Hefrumm, for it has only just begun to grow.

 

Narvak oz Urguan. Narvak oz Hefrumm.

 

 

 

Ulro Anbella’s ival, akhoral khazadmar oz kahiv,


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Levian'Tol Grandaxe smiles softly as he listens to his wife. "Yer constant devotion ta yer people es somet'in everehone knows. Ye 'ave given t'em teh best chance ta be w'at all ov Urguan knows t'ey can be. Now ye 'ave ta trust t'em ta take et." He lights a cigar handing it to Yazmorra. "An now t'ey 'ave a woman on teh ensoide ov teh cave." He chuckles lightly before nodding to her, "'Efrumm will be strong."

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“Now I need to install yet ANOTHER friendly regime” Azkel would think to himself 

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“Oh.” Asvi can’t stop the frown that falls over her face. “I… vell. Yair successor vill noht be as good as yew. Und zis village vohn’t be ze same vidzou’ yew as ‘igh Chief. Bu’ ah… ah ‘ope yair ‘appeh ah Thrummaz-lon. Ah guess.” She sighs, stowing the missive away and getting a rather unwarranted wave of nostalgia.

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Qrue would appear out of nowhere to read this and question 

"Are yu diein?! Qrue would 'ate tu loose anot'er friend!"

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Spoiler

 

 

[!] With this news, Beorn Cottonwood was reminded of times long past. Yazmorra had turned to their kin's village during the age of Acras, under his very own ruling at the time. The beardling still young and naive was new to all things dwarven, yet was eager to learn. From this little seed Beorn would come to see a fierce flower to grow and flourish as she, many years later, had taken on the responsibility of High Chief. A title not many had come to carry a long time in the past, giving up on their kin and their responsibilities, nor do justice. However, Yazmorra was different, her ever lasting love for her kin had driven her consistently, in which he could not help recognize his father. Even though there were years when the number of forest kin had sunken low, if even one would remain, so would the loving Yazmorra. A High Chieftess worthy of title in the image of his famed father Bjor. Beorn could only be proud at such achievement of his adoptive daughter. Let it be known that Hefrumm flourished right before Yazmorra Blackroot's descend from the wooden throne, and let us hope it will remain so for many years to come. 

Narvak oz Urguan. Narvak oz Hefrumm.

 

 

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Porkpie Grandaxe peaked through a window of one of the fine Hefrumm dwellings. His rounded brown eyes guiding over the missive as a sharp grin appeared on his even more rounded face. "Oiy guess ets sad ta' aunteh es na' long'uh teh chief ... bu' now s'es teh queen!! Dis leaves eh spo' for meh ta beh teh nex' Hefrumm chief.... an' oill rename et tah Breadrumm!" The beardling announced to the company of wildlife around him. Though they seemed unimpressed. 

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A Golden dwarf reminisces while forging-something he does not often do- of the first time he met of the one Yazmorra Blackroot. Sitting in the great hall that was newly hers, in the lands of Arcas as flowers peeked through her hair. He was asking for a continuation of a deal her ancestors had agreed upon, to which the cheery lass amicably agreed. An agreement between their peoples on account of mutual craftmanship was one the Yemekar's Pick greatly respected the new High Chief for, as she now bore the Ring of the High Chief he forged for the prior leader of the Forest's Folk. Her willingness to work with Yemekar's Workforce struck him, and so he asked for the relic back, to reforge it greater than he had before. Upon the Evraali anvil sparks flew as metals were forged into perfect dimensions, copper wire twisted around the ferrum band to create a magnificent rose petal ring, with the ashes of kings within. Alas, as he sectioned off the finished goods for the week for delivery, he was too late for the High Chief to bear the ring once more. He only hoped the next one would bear the sun's smile when he gave it to them.

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