𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

[Departed_Delmar 1302]

Spoiler

 

Disclaimer: This is not public knowledge, merely an account of the first of many events happening within the adunians. 

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

 

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Storms had raged around the Lordship of Cartref Mor for many a WIldwynn day, killing its crops, plaguing the cattle and beasts. An omen had made itself clear amongst the town, and in doing so, did it herald the arrival of an individual. For many days the Lord of Cartref Mor gained letters, written in an odd sanguine coloration, detailing trials to come. The storms were but the precursor, a taste of what was to truly come, and it was upon that third day. When the roaring winds died down, and the clattering of hooves on ice drew near, the people of that Lordship left those warm walls. Caution had always plagued the Adunian people, and it was that caution now that drove the Lord to find what was going on. 

“SO THIS IS WHAT THE FOUNDINGS OF HARREN AND SARAI HAVE BEEN REDUCED TO! HIDING LIKE RATS INSIDE OF RICKETY WOODEN WALLS!”
A voice, dry and raspy like smoke, bellowed out in the winds. Mockery evident in their manner of speech, as the figure of a hooded crone could be seen amongst the snow laden foothills. The Lord made his way over to those wooden walls, his glowing gaze akin to that of the ice that rose from the peaks near the regions of Norland. Yet as he drew near, did that voice continue on, rising in volume and intensity.
“Who is that Lord, that has led you so, that rules amongst these lands!”

The glowing gaze of the lord found itself moving to the old crone, his feet moving for him as he descended down. As his people drew bows, and clutched swords. As their lips spoke threats, so did the Lord of Cartref Mor find his scarred maw opening to speak to the one that had arrived.
“I am Aurelion Marsyr, Lord of the lands of Cartref Mor. Who are you, to yell and mock my people?” 

As his leather clad boots found that rough worn path, as he drew near, so did he find his gaze lingering upon the elden woman. His gaze found those familiar features, ears that held a slight point, and eyes that held a blue hue to them. Features that, despite old, held the look of someone far older than they appeared to be. So did he find himself continuing, fear filled him, yes. But not of her, rather, of the reasoning of why an old woman such as herself may be here. 

A look of shock spread across her withered features, almost as though such a statement of him being the lord was a joke. 
“You?!? You're the Lord of Cartref Mor?!?.....I expected someone more noteworthy!”

He found his words leaving his mouth for him, such a phrase, often leaving his mouth as he spoke to the traveler. His tone akin to the ice and cold that laid bare across Cartref, his demeanor was calm rather then brash or quick like his kin as of current. 

“Most often are shocked to find me as the lord, yet still you do not answer my questions, what is your reasoning for being here. Who are you?”

The old crone seemed to grumble and mumble out of annoyance, before she stepped down closer to the lord. The woman looked over at him, before finally answering in that long drawn out tone. 

 

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“I am Tindromiel, High Priestess of the Trinity Priesthood, and I have come because I have seen a vision. Of ruin and flames to the adunic people, but also, of a reborn era. Of the days of old once more flourishing within our people, of the days of the High Kingdom!” 

The lord's blood ran cold as he heard these words, his eyes widened as heard mention of these visions. Images that he himself had seen, of that dark and desolate day, of those fires that raged about the corpses of his people. Yet it was more shocking that she would mention such days, of the elden days of their people, of those days he had only ever heard legend about. His curiosity grew, like those roaring winds that had descended. The lord found himself speaking, before his thoughts had fully processed. 

 

“I give you one hour within my halls, to explain what exactly you mean. One hour only, is that understood?”

 

That crone's blue eyes gleamed with mockery and mischief as she bellowed out in that loud tone once more. 

 

“You will be having me more then one hour, this will be a stay that will result in my leave. ONLY, when the Trinity deem it so!”

 

He found himself gritting his teeth for the first time since this encounter, the usually calm and unfazed man, being bothered by this entire encounter. Yet still, did he accept such terms, his feet guiding him down as those few who had come outside lowered their bows, and sheathed their blades. His people, finding their way back inside of that long and cold hall. Aurelion would take a seat, upon that raised dais. His gaze lowered to the crone, she, who had brought forth the cold and misery within recent months. She greedily took to the food, and drank the warm tea. Her harsh words, finding purchase in the few guests that had arrived. After some time, with rabid ramblings, did she begin to tell her tale. 

 

“I have seen all your outcomes, I have seen the bodies of your families, of the flames of ruin spreading across the town of Cartref Mor. I have seen banners of white petaled flowers, risen high to claim those of our kin. Yet, I’ve also seen success, guidance finally in those willing to take it. Of our kingdom reborn, and of our people rebuilt. Yet such is not an easy task, for it requires you to be worthy of those Tools of the Trinity.”

Most within the hall, muttered in their seats, some fearful of such an outcome. Yet others, mocking. The occasional ‘farce’ and ‘con-artist’, thrown within the slew of comments that resounded about the table. One such individual, a man with darkened hair, and a child next to him. Spoke arrogantly and angrily at the woman.

 

“Cartref Mor is more than just a place! It is a people, and a proud people at that! We’ve no fear, for even if our walls are broken and our home destroyed. We will thrive just as well, without worry!”

Next did a woman, silver haired and with a worried motherly expression. Chime in to add her thoughts, and concerns.
“Can we not wish for a better life for our children? For them to merely have greener fields, without worry of some trial or conflict?”

As these were spoken, so did that haggard voice shriek to those others huddled about the table. 

“So you are content to remain inside wooden walls and barren fields? Of a cramped keep and cold stone floors. You wish for this life for your kin and your kins future kin?”
The wise-woman's words spat out, similar to that of a snake spitting venom. Anger was building and rising, tensions growing as she spoke the names of those adunians who attempted to speak out or dissuade her thinking. Oliver, Aobh, and Arnarra. All whose visions and futures, if not done right, led to death and sickness. As more spoke, more was revealed, more was shown to that hold of adunians. 

Spoiler

 

Yet still, did the lord remain silent, his ears taking in those words and knowledge of wisdom. Yet his eyes, they searched about that keep. They looked at those wooden beams, of that old stone made in the hands of not them, rather a people prior. Of flags that had merely become strips of cloth, only recently gaining that meaning again. He turned to his people, and what he saw was not unity, rather a fear. A hopelessness, people willing to submit themselves for an ounce of so called freedom, of self respect. He saw, not a lively people, rather the ones mentioned in all those tomes. He saw people, still hiding, still reluctant in their ways of old. The true ways of old for them. Slowly, did he come to stand, his voice cutting through the crowd of people. His words, attempting to find purchase within the hearts and minds of his brothers and sisters. 

“You are right, we should be wishing for those green hills for our kin to roam in. You are right, Cartref Mor is a people, rather than a place. It is more than just a keep upon a shore, or a town bordering the sea. Yet, do you not wish to regain what was stolen from us all those centuries ago? To regain that respect that was once held for our people and kin? We were once proud and mighty, yet here we reside, roaming for scraps of food and our history. Some, bowing to people and beings that hold very little care for us. Here, do we hold a chance to regain something lost to us from ages past. Here do we hold the chance to unify as a people, to grow as a people. Some of you may be willing to submit, yet I as your leader will not allow you to! I refuse to allow you all to fall prey to those that would care little for your being, and for your health. I, as leader, refuse for you to give up on forgetting those that still guide you to this day. I refuse, for us to merely quiet. To stay sedentary and complacent in our actions, to fall prey to the chains of time. I REFUSE TO LET OUR PEOPLE WASTE AWAY!” 

His words echoed through the halls, silence resounding through the dimly lit room, as the Lord of Cartref Mor began to walk down the dais. His speech, not yet finished, the elden fires within him only stirring and growing faster and faster.
“No longer shall we stay merely subservient to our ways, to the ideology that was thrusted upon us as our youth. For now, is not the age of silence, of hiding. Now, it is the age of revitalization, of our freedom, of the WILL OF THE ADUNIANS!”

Silence bounced through the walls, emptiness resounding about, before a clap began to be heard. Followed by another, and another, soon like the choirs of a church. Did the hall erupt into a roar, both frightening yet true. A fire had been lit for the people, and it grew with every cheer and prayer. Many within the hall dipped their heads, and many pledged their blade and body to the cause. To the trials that the people ahead would face.  So did the Adunic Lord look about, to his people, his kin. All who bore now, a look of new determination, of resolution.
“There is the Lord of Cartref Mor I was expecting.”
The crone's voice echoed out, and as it did, so would he turn to face her. Cold determination within his gaze, as the leader of the adunians spoke to her.
“You told us of trials, if such is the case, what shall be our first?”
Slowly did the crone's lips curve into a withered smile, her hunched form starting to make her way from the table to the door. Her voice echoing throughout the halls of the newly renewed adunic people.
“Your first trial shall be announced in the coming Wildwynn days, a trial for Maria, the Mother. Spend this time praying, and  preparing. For these trials,  will not be any easy thing.” 

The lord nodded, his own scarred lips curving into a smile, one born from the readiness of doing his eternal duty to his kin. 

“Then we shall speak in those coming days, may the Ancestors guide you but most certainly, may they guide us to our completion of this task.”

Spoiler

OOC Notes: Apologies if I have some things misspelled or written wrong, it do be late, and this is all kinda off the head. As you can see, things are rising up in Cartref Mor as we now have got ourselves a little player ran eventline! If you have an adunian character, wishing to understand more about the ever expanding and revitalized culture. Along with are interested in playing as an adunian character to join in on these cool events and stuff all you got to do, is find Cartref Mor. This is the first of many events to occur, and I'm excited for the character progression of not only Lord Aurelion Marsyr, but of every adunian participating. Massive thanks to @TheIchorDruidfor hosting this eventline! I can't wait to see what else is in store. 

 

[Jameson_h 393]

Oliver sat upon his balcony smoking a pipe a small pile of ash collecting next to him as he finished bowl after bowl of tobacco in quiet contemplation the pain in his body spurring on another sleepless night that accommodated the hours of meditation on the recent events seething in the frustrations spurred on by the recent hardships