Celian Chronicles I

[Ivria Inkwell 24]

 

Published; 12th of the Deep Cold, Year 216 of the Second Age

 

"Ah, the art of chronicling—a delicate dance of ink and whispers. One must be careful, of course, not to stir the pot too much... lest the spoon be thrown at one's head." — Lady Ivria Inkwell

 

 

 

Ah, dear lliran, gather round for yet another delightful tale of chaos and destruction that plagues our beloved Celia’nor. It seems that once more, the great Lurker Beast, a grotesque 15-foot menace with the manners of a drunken boar and the ferocity of a wild beast, has graced our shores. This time, accompanied by his equally charming companions—a ragtag company of vicious minotaurs and goblins who, if their battle strategy was anything to go by, surely learned their tactics from a band of tavern brawlers. A bloody siege it was, my lliran, though not nearly enough to break the hearts of our indomitable people.

 

The beast was thwarted, of course, for who but Celia’nor could rise against such a monstrous foe? Our brave warriors, those ever-persistent Celians, met the threat head-on and sent the beast and its followers fleeing—into the very shadows from which they came. Yet, as fate would have it (and as we’ve come to know all too well), victory came at a cost. Leyu’sil, our cherished capital, lay in ruin, its once-proud towers crumbling like old parchment in the rain.

 

Now, one might think that with such a calamity, the Celians would be left to wallow in despair for decades—oh, how naïve. In but two months, our fair city was reborn, rising from the ashes as though the whole ordeal had never happened. Ah, the speed at which we rebuild! If only we could be so lucky in avoiding the next catastrophe. But, alas, we have a curious knack for attracting such lovely creatures to our doorstep. Three times in a century, ne less. Truly, one might wonder if the universe simply enjoys a good laugh at our expense.

 

But do ne fear, for despite all odds, Celia’nor is more illustrious than ever before. Perhaps it is the charm of our citizens—or perhaps it's simply that we've grown accustomed to such misfortune. Regardless, we press forward, as always. And remember, what’s a few ruined towers when you’ve got an entire nation to rebuild?

 

Here's to hoping the next beast we face is slightly less inclined to leave us with so much work.

[!]

A Colored sketch of the newly constructed build could be seen below….

 

 

"Ah, Leyu’sil—the jewel of Celia’nor, where the stars shine brightly and the drama shines brighter still. From triumphs to tragedies, weddings to, well, unweddings, and the occasional beast rampaging through our beloved streets (because why ne?), this year has been nothing short of an epic tale fit for the ages. So, settle in, lliran, for a recounting of our capital’s finest—and not-so-finest—moments. Let the ink flow, for the stars have much to say!"

 

 

The Leyu’sil Court!

 

Oh, what a grand affair the royal court has been of late, lliran! The Mah’nel talonnii has ascended to even greater heights, earning the noble title of Laurir—a crowning achievement for their storied lineage. Not to be overshadowed, both Elgras Soltee and Jarad Mah’nel have risen to the rank of Lauririi, their efforts securing individual recognition and adding further prestige to their names.

 

But what’s this? A twist of history, ne less! The long-thought-abolished title of Nar’onn has been reinstated, marking a historic moment for the Aevos age of Celia’nor. And who, you might ask, now bears this singular honor? None other than the musin, those diminutive yet daring souls who stand as the only non-high elven recipients of noble status within our starlit land. Truly, a chapter for the chronicles to savor! In addition, word was spread of their newly presented vassal! 

 

Though, to accompany said news, The Akaln’riv’s in turn, amidst the court,  have received the promise of land as well!  Now they may truly relish in their dreams of farming within their own personal acreage. May this achievement now bring illustrious feasts to the edicts of Celia! 

 

The Ferret Infestation!

 

Ah, the mystery of the moment: the ferret invasion… Ti, you read that right.. Ferrets. Ne one quite knows where they came from, but they’ve settled themselves comfortably by the pond in front of our tavern like some odd aristocratic assembly. One moment, they’re charging about with the energy of a hundred uninvited guests at a feast, and the next, they’re lying in docile tranquility as if the world owes them a nap. So, what are we to do with these strange little creatures? Well, that’s the million-mina question, ne? Do we begin a ferret breeding program? Is there a 'Ferret of the Month' club we should know about? All we can do is watch, for now, as they—quite literally—take over the capital with their mood swings and adorable confusion. What a time to be alive.

 

Businesses of Leyu’sil!

 

• The Phoenix Inc.: Ah, behold the wonders of Phoenix Inc., where the royal family’s likeness is immortalized in plush form, because who doesn’t want a cuddly version of the Royal talonnii? And if that doesn’t suit your tastes, perhaps their custom tailoring will. It's perfect for those who wish to look regal without the actual need to be. Oh, and let’s not forget their weaponry, crafted with such care, it’s as if they’re preparing you for an encounter with bandits… or for a very fashionable duel! A true one-stop shop for all your absurdly varied needs!

 

• Sariandi’s Sewing Store: Where tailoring meets treasure! Not content with just offering illustrious garments, they’ve thrown in jewelry too—because why settle for a stylish outfit when you can have a whole sparkling ensemble? It’s clear they’re on a mission to sew the market to new heights... or at least to a level where you can dazzle and shine, one stitch at a time!

“This is an Akaln™ Product, operated by Akaln™ Corporations, any inquiries or questions.. Contact Lady Ciradyl Akaln’riv.”

 

• The Adventurer’s Club: Are you tired of the same old strolls through the market or your usual routine? Ready to swap the mundane for a taste of mystery, danger, and untold wonders? Look ne further than the Adventure Club, run by none other than the ever-curious Musin! These intrepid explorers have their fingers in every pie, from lost relics to ancient ruins, and they invite you, ti you, to join in their daring escapades. Will you be the one to uncover forgotten treasures, navigate perilous landscapes, or discover secrets buried deep within the earth? The world is their oyster—and they’re ready to hand you the pearl. Sign up now, if you dare, and let the adventures begin!

 

• The Staryew General Store: Ah, the Staryew General Store—where, if you can’t find it here, perhaps it simply doesn’t exist. Nestled in the heart of the market district, this humble stall offers everything a Celian could possibly need, from the mundane to the extraordinary. Need a new pair of boots? They’ve got it. A map to the furthest reaches of the land? They've got it likely enough. Perhaps a new enchanted spoon, because who doesn’t need one? This place truly has it all, and with it, an air of practicality that could rival even the most demanding of our Talonnii.

 

 

“Because what’s a nation without a little scandal, ti?”

 

 

Dearest lliran, welcome to the most titillating section of this fine publication—The Whispers of the Veil. Here, we peel back the satin curtains of decorum and propriety to reveal the juiciest morsels of intrigue this starlit nation has to offer. Were you under the impression that Celia’nor’s grand halls were filled solely with lofty discussions of politics and poetry? Ne, sweet reader. Behind every regal bow and silken robe lies a story—some whispered, some shouted, but all worthy of our ink…

 

Perhaps you’ve heard the rumors of late: the “innocent” moonlit strolls, the mysteriously vanishing wine from the royal cellars, or the downright scandalous fashion choices gracing Leyu’sil’s streets… Fear not, for we are here to chronicle it all. Ne rumor too small, ne secret too great.. We are ever the attentive quill poised to immortalize the whispers of Celia’nor!

 

So, lliran, read on, for in a land of stars, it’s the shadows that reveal the most captivating truths. And remember, if you don’t find your name here, perhaps you’re simply ne interesting enough.

 

Yours in ink and mischief,

Lady Ivria Inkwell

-The Listener of All, Unknown by Any

 

A Broken Engagement?

 

“Even the brightest stars can drift apart, ti?”

 

Lend me your ears, lliran, for the starlit halls of Celia’nor are abuzz with the shocking news of a severed engagement. After years of betrothal, the union of the esteemed Lady Llora Soltee and the once-mighty Lord Sylvin Cerusil has come to an unceremonious end! One must wonder.. did the noble lady grow weary of waiting for a wedding that seemed as elusive as a moonbeam? Or, perhaps, did some unseen scandal or whispered slight turn the tides?

 

Whatever the cause, the Lady Llora walks free once more, leaving us all to speculate whether Lord Sylvin’s vows were lost amid the echoes of unfulfilled promises. A tragedy, or a mercy? Only time, and perhaps a few too many glasses of wine, will tell it seems..

 

The First Husband Returns?

 

"For those who say love never dies, this tale certainly gives pause—if ne a good laugh!"

 

Oh, lliran, prepare yourselves, for this twist is juicier than a midsummer’s peach. The noble Lady Ember Mah’nel, once widowed and now blissfully wed to her second husband with a brood of charming children, has found herself at the heart of what might just be the most scandalous reunion Celia’nor has ever seen…

 

Unbeknownst to all, her first husband—the very one presumed lost to the sands of time -- has risen from obscurity and waltzed into our fair edicts, demanding his rightful claim as her betrothed. Romance, or audacity? The jury’s still out. But as the poor Lady’s past and present clash in a storm of wedding vows and wounded pride, one cannot help but wonder: will this end in a tearful reunion, or a duel at dawn?

 

Oh, what I would give to be a fly on the wall! Or perhaps a discreetly hidden quill for this unfolding drama! Stay tuned, lliran. This tale promises a grand crescendo worthy of song or scorn!

 

A Weddingless Prince? 

 

"Stars may guide us, ti, but even the brightest seem to have trouble finding their way to the altar!"

 

Ah, lliran, let us speak plainly—or as plainly as I ever do—about the baffling enigma that is Prince Illthrak Ibarellan. Once heralded as the bachelor of the century, one would think the son of our esteemed Royarch would have a line of suitors longer than the great Celian archives themselves. And yet, here we are, still counting the days of his bachelorhood as though it were some sort of tragic sport…

 

Is it that the Prince simply does ne care for the matter? Or perhaps his tongue—so sharp it could cut steel—has done more harm than good in charming the fair maidens of our land? Truly, what could keep such a star among us unwed in a nation of illustrious beauty? Is he so uncharming beyond his moments of leadership that he’s doomed to the same solitary fate as his dear in-law, Sylvin Cerusil?

 

Whatever the case, one thing is clear: for a land so full of wonders, it seems we’re missing one thing—a fairytale ending for our elusive Prince Illthrak. Though, at this point, one might say even a scandalous marriage might be better than none at all!

 

 

 

The Akaln’riv’s Begin A Trend? To be Blonde, or To Ne?

 

"Lady Ciradyl goes from orange to blonde—because sometimes, a new look is all it takes to start fresh... or at least to confuse everyone!"

 

Oh, lliran, it seems our dear Noble Lady Ciradyl has decided to grace us with a spectacle most unexpected! From fiery orange to striking blonde, she has transformed—but at what cost, I ask with this sudden shift? With the last glimmers of her talonnii's mina, perhaps? Or shall we inquire with the Celian casino to confirm if a generous loan was granted to fund this golden ambition? This is only a jest of course.

 

Though, I must confess, I shall surely struggle to recognize her within Leyu'sil’s bustling streets now, yet, who knows how many noble blondes shall arise in her wake? For surely, such a daring change must be the start of a grand fashion trend! Tell me, lliran, will the masses follow suit, or shall Lady Ciradyl remain the sole golden star of Celia’nor? Truly, a question for the ages: to be blonde, or to ne? How much would you spend?

 

Furs: Chic, or Tragic?

 

"Ah, ti, furs—the latest fashion statement sweeping through Celia'nor. Because nothing says 'it’s a tad bit cold' quite like draping yourself in the pelts of creatures! What is subtlety when you can strut around like a walking winter breeze?"

 

Furs, it seems, are now all the rage in Celia'nor—because why settle for silk when you can sport the full animal kingdom? But the real question is, which furs are the right furs? Should one be draped in the sleek elegance of a board’s pelt, the wild magnificence of a manticore, or perhaps the charming fluff of a rabbit? And don't even get me started on the ferrets—ti, those ferrets, who have taken over the tavern pond like an army of tiny, overambitious aristocrats. Choose wisely, dear citizens, for in this town, the line between 'fashion statement' and 'wildlife preservation' has become... rather blurry.

 

 

AY’PUERAN;

 

The Veiled Quill of the Chronicle, The Sole Proprietor and Claim of the Chronicle, the Whisperer of the Starlit Court and the Keeper of Silent Truths,

 

[Cheeseycereal 829]

6 minutes ago, Ivria Inkwell said:

Lend me your ears, lliran, for the starlit halls of Celia’nor are abuzz with the shocking news of a severed engagement. After years of betrothal, the union of the esteemed Lady Llora Soltee and the once-mighty Lord Sylvin Cerusil has come to an unceremonious end! One must wonder.. did the noble lady grow weary of waiting for a wedding that seemed as elusive as a moonbeam? Or, perhaps, did some unseen scandal or whispered slight turn the tides?

 

Whatever the cause, the Lady Llora walks free once more, leaving us all to speculate whether Lord Sylvin’s vows were lost amid the echoes of unfulfilled promises. A tragedy, or a mercy? Only time, and perhaps a few too many glasses of wine, will tell it seems..

 

 

An Akaln'riv raised a brow as she skimmed through the chronicles, her gaze fixating on the notice. She flicked her eyes around the room, lips pursed in thought. Damn. Had she told anyone? She squinted, maybe a drunken night, had she opened her mouth? Oh, what a terrible Llir she must feel like. Oh well! She continued flipping through the chronicles, a rather wide grin spreading across her face.
 

11 minutes ago, Ivria Inkwell said:

The Akaln’riv’s Begin A Trend? To be Blonde, or To Ne?

 

 

Then she stopped, her eyes narrowing as they fixed on the newsletter. Twirling a strand of her golden blonde hair around her calloused fingers, she blinked, utterly dumbfounded. "I NEVER HAD ORANGE HAIR!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the halls of her home. What an interesting post this was!

 

[candyzeroyal 168]

Eir Maor sighed as they grabbed the paper that was thrown at their door step, bringing it inside for a quick read. They skimmed a few pages before reaching the fashion trends and raising a brow "whats this about the furs? are there some considered more expensive?" they turned to look at their own fir lined cloak, rubbing it to test its texture and quality "Clearly mine is superior.."

[JoshBright 3014]

25 minutes ago, Ivria Inkwell said:

"For those who say love never dies, this tale certainly gives pause—if ne a good laugh!"

 

Oh, lliran, prepare yourselves, for this twist is juicier than a midsummer’s peach. The noble Lady Ember Mah’nel, once widowed and now blissfully wed to her second husband with a brood of charming children, has found herself at the heart of what might just be the most scandalous reunion Celia’nor has ever seen…

 

Unbeknownst to all, her first husband—the very one presumed lost to the sands of time -- has risen from obscurity and waltzed into our fair edicts, demanding his rightful claim as her betrothed. Romance, or audacity? The jury’s still out. But as the poor Lady’s past and present clash in a storm of wedding vows and wounded pride, one cannot help but wonder: will this end in a tearful reunion, or a duel at dawn?

 

Oh, what I would give to be a fly on the wall! Or perhaps a discreetly hidden quill for this unfolding drama! Stay tuned, lliran. This tale promises a grand crescendo worthy of song or scorn!

 

"Well, no." Jarad Mused "Jakob and Ember divorce, she is not wed or otherwise engaged at the moment" the Lord Commander said from his office. 

[Underscore___ 71]

Emrys takes a moment to glance through the chronicle, eyeing particularly the gossip section.

"I'm surprised we didn't make it in there. I'll have to step up my game, I guess"

[Moping 542]

Illthrak Ibarellan would read over the news article, But once he reached the section speaking of himself he could not help but frown and shake his head. Illthrak swiftly threw out the article and then he let out a sigh" Who is the author?"The Prince scoffed out then went about his day pretending he didnt see the article.

[sam33497 7356]

"Heheh.." A drowned elf lay at the bottom of a river, holding that parchment which seemed immune to the surrounding water by virtue of ethereal red energy. "That time, a long time ago... How many of those names still exist?" He didn't speak them aloud, but they flashed through his mind. The matriarch Senna Cerusil, the soothsayer Ava Ranaleth, the monarch Valyris Ibarellan, the girl ward Cresence of Celia'nor. "Those people might live, but those identities are gone. I wonder who remembers."

 

He let go of the parchment. Even at the bottom of that river, it burned into nothingness, eroded by a red plasma. "In times of great chaos or ample peace, we still plot and scheme towards merit, small or large. In either case of strife or idle gossip, I wonder how many can sense that gaze from the future, looking at what once was, when the remnants of the past have been cut into paper-thin partitions, gone and irretrievable again. Of course, of all people, I've felt this gaze the most clearly."

 

The drowned elf with a shattered past continued to rot at the bottom of the river, his monologue not bringing emotion to him.

[TheMysterySlayer 35]

An elfess would chuckle as she read the paper before passing it over to her wife "Look Dear! Your Haelun made front page news"

[Cheeseycereal 829]

Just now, Moping said:

Illthrak Ibarellan would read over the news article, But once he reached the section speaking of himself he could not help but frown and shake his head. Illthrak swiftly threw out the article and shook his head"Who is the author?"The Prince scoffed out then went about his day pretending he didnt see the article.

"Perhaps he's a homosexual! ..." A voice chirps from afar, somewhere.. somewhere far far away. 

[Baccaaa 490]

Sitting on her desk with a bottle of alchohol most exotic, her oddly gregarious parrot slips in the missive right on the desk with a THUD with its beak, as if it demanded a reward for such. "MISSIVE! MISSIVE!!" yelled the parrot. "MISSIVE LETTER!! MISSIVE LETTER!" It continued. Uriella then took the missive and tossed her parrot some spare seeds, spare from some snacks after an accompanied fishing trip she had the other day. "Here, shut up now." She commanded her parrot. Yet it yelled again in revolt. "SHUT UP!! SHUT UP!!" It only stopped when the orange cat hissed at it, being near the parrot, next to the idle yisar besides the elvess It was yet another day in a people-empty home, inhabited by the most random of pets.

 

As the perhaps surrounded yet lonely Uriella reads the missive, she takes a turn on her bottle of... rum. "Lady Ivria Inkwell... have ne heard of such a name before." The noble elvess then read further down the missive, from the mentions to the ruin to the... gossip, skipping completely over the advert section, having a special disdain for adverts. "Oh... so they were together. Ha" she comments over the section regarding the betrothal. "Ouch!" She reads over the second gossip regarding the returned husband. "I understand you... I definetly understand you. I just turned 60..." She commented on the paragraph regarding the lonely prince, looking around at her empty home briefly then swinging the bottle of rum again.

 

Then she turns to the sections regarding trends and fashion. "SEE? Even the chronicles deem your hair ORANGE Ciradyl. Tsk tsk tsk... wait. Since when was being a blonde mali'aheral rare? My entire lineage is blonde. Im the only outlier." Commented the red-haired Amethil, the only one. "Leather is shic...? Hmm... I do ne feel it. I prefer my silk. Whoever this Inkwell person is, perhaps an alibi, you could say she inks this paper very well. Finally a read that is ne boring politics!" as she mentioned the word politics, her politician of a parrot turned her way, perhaps to berrate her of her studies years ago repeated. Uriella looked at the word 'Gossip' and then looked at her talkative parrot, double thinking something. It definetly is a mistake to study and speak near a parrot that wise...

[Cheeseycereal 829]

5 minutes ago, Baccaaa said:

Then she turns to the sections regarding trends and fashion. "SEE? Even the chronicles deem your hair ORANGE Ciradyl. Tsk

"I'M BLONDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" A screech escaped through the walls of celia'nor.. oh no. 

[PartyPupper 21]

As a red haired Akaln’riv. I can confirm that we are not all blonde.

[Cozy_Tea 276]

The Soltée woke up from her sleep and made her way to her kitchen, she noticed the paper missive on her counter and takes a slow read. Only to then clench it after reading her piece about the Broken Engagement, turning it to a paper ball. ”what a way to start the morning.” She said turning back to eat something for breakfast.

Edited January 22, 2025 by Cozy_Tea

[Laeonathan 5889]

4 hours ago, sam33497 said:

But what’s this? A twist of history, ne less! The long-thought-abolished title of Nar’onn has been reinstated

"It's called Nor'onn'" Raziel reminded. "It means kin of the land. Not... Nar'onn."

[mielofficial 489]

𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓭  clutches the missive to her chest, a bit out of breath,

 

"Royal... I can't... I can't believe it... And appointed by an Elven nation... Such a high honor...."

 

She lets out a sob of overwhelm, looking around at the vacant space that will soon become a testament to Musin culture...

 

.

.

.

.

.

 

"Wait... Who is Lady Inkwell......?