WestCarolina

"I only hope such ire that strangled his heart, and unleashed toward his kin, can find balance in the Eternal Forest," Spoke a Mali'ame after setting flames to the Druid's lifeless body. Yet the irony in this action came two fold. Her brother - he who exemplified the fiery, chaotic side of nature, can now rest alongside the newly spirited Cinder, her best friend. "Let both their fires continue to burn," Miven murmured, now setting off to tend to the wounds of her other.

Two young Mali'ame sat with their backs against walls of rock - Aegrothond. This is where the friendship was formed. Blissful talks of nothing and everything. He listened, and that is what she valued most. Despite eighty years of a blazing contrarian whose words and actions may have annoyed the young Bruin, Miven always found herself seeking his guidance. His friendship. "There is ne hatred in my heart for ye, sword-boy." She reminisced these last words after being told of his valiant efforts. "I knew it was ne goin' te be my blade te end 'em. That was never like Cinder te go down te his own kin." *** Somewhere, sometime later, the golden-eyed Caerme'onn finds herself not idle before any erected memorial, but forging sword after sword in honor of the fallen Father Circle Druid.

Never would have the Bruin thought that the very Haenseni man who had sat so lively across the tavern table from her, just elven days ago, would pass so suddenly. That very night, after the Vale, Dwarves, and Paladins fought for their own lives against those pirates and constructs, would Miven honor the late-King by naming the battle after Sigismund.

A wild Miven decked in pelts and Bear, bounces around waving her staff about. "The cub is born! Bolomormaa, grant 'em strength!" (Art by @Amayonnaise)

When all was seemingly still, Miven felt the overwhelming reunion between two streams. *** Days later and surrounded by the children of the Vale, the Bruin kept her promise to Tanila. “The obstacles in her way only led her further down the path. Like Sister Hyssop, never lose sight of what our duties as Mali’ame are.” Inspired, those young cubs would soon assemble an area in honor of Tanila.

A rippling, terrestrial shake cascades south as those renegades send the once floating Ando Alur to its demise. Panicked faces matched the fields of agonized cries that sounded from nature. What was left was desolate land, twisted and manipulated – shards of violet, and an ill blanket of air. Those Father Circle Drui who first scouted the blight were met by a stab to their core – a sickening silence, akin to the heel strangling nature's neck. It was as if time itself had stopped. An uncanny, surreal scene that had desecrated the hope of many. “Be comfortable with the uncomfortable.” They dutifully returned with the cinders trick. A torch met the ailing trees and ground and to no avail would blight be scorched. “Be comfortable with the uncomfortable.” The lure of a yearning song, meager and stifled in the foreign, deafened terrain led Drui to battle against cultists, against shuul, and creatures alike. “Be comfortable with the uncomfortable.” The voice grew louder and louder upon every mission, and the further those warriors ventured in the wretched lands. An unforeseen tree, a voidal tear, and diligent Drui and Acolytes who healed and fought for their duty and lives. “Be comfortable with the-” And after decades of trials, heavy hearts carried three stones and a tri-blade dagger. Before a multitude of eyes, an explosion pangs at those chests. A flash that blinded. A life sacrificed and color that’d amaze beyond what has been seen. A towering willow. One that kissed the now blue sky and canopied over green. Lush, lush, green. HER voice never left, instead, it joined THEIRS. And she said, “Be comfortable.” Two streams collide - a reunion of old, forested souls.

"Beware of the Drake! Beware of the Drake!" Chanted corsairs of the Southern Isles upon their ships. *** After some forty years, an attack on the reclaimed village put the strength of the Halerir'elame and Father Circle to the test. Defeated, their home was left scorched and torn, in rubble like how they once found it. But this was only a spoke in the cycle -- A testament to their lessons and beliefs. Those Mali'ame and allies of Nevaehlen reclaimed their home to nature once more. Remnants of what once was, pokes out from foliage and flora. What did remain was their unity. OOC: Special thanks to the ST, and specifically the Event Team for all the hard work they have been putting into this Dark Harbour event-line! And lastly, a BIG shoutout and thank you to @Nikophos for the beautiful cinematography of the new build! We appreciate you, Nik!

I had a great experience meeting three new folks in Urguan today. I think it's good and healthy to travel and get to know folks. But then again, I'm an extrovert so I enjoy meeting new people, and so does my character. You truly never know who you'll get to know or what you'll run into.

i hate hamsters

Miven

Scribed by Wild Chief Lle'sil Members: Sister Wildlife, Sister Wicker, Sister Bear, Sister Seahorse, Brother Bismuth, Brother Everwinter, Brother Obsidian, Aenor Calithil, Khiiral Erwenys, Tali’mordu, Lle’sil, Rosalia Caerme’onn, Goc Date: 14th of Snow’s Maiden 73 SA Location: North of Nevaehlen, Southern portions of the blighted land Notes: = The voidal blight, following the fourth mission into the hollows, presumably had an effect on Oren and Haelun’ors blight. The two locations were cleansed = As the group traversed into the hollows, their plan was to find the same tree which was healed and deal with any voidal mages and tears that could still be around = The area was unkind, air fraught with mana and unshakeable dread = Sanguine blood, likely from the days past that it had been raining ichor, and ash stained the hilltops, adding to the previous battle that was fought = The tree the group once interacted with was thriving, surrounded by grass and other flora = An aura beckoned them nearer from the tree, where nature’s anguished voice turned softer and oddly balanced = It was difficult at first to commune, but with the combination of a druidic relic, and those dutiful druids amidst the party, the group manages to commune with the tree = Voidal cultists make an appearance at the foot of the hill those gathered on. Those who were not communing were told to keep out for any approaching foes = Meanwhile, the tree spoke, acknowledging their arrival, and thanking those who gave the tree the ability to commune again = The tree spoke on the Followers mission, and that destruction, eternal unbalance, to a plane cultists seek to eradicate. The tree then asks what was being sought by the Drui = The cultists approach, a line of warriors atop the hill managing to keep them at bay while the conversation continues. The tree spoke on Nemesis followers, wanting a premature end to everything = The tree then ends with telling the Drui that the way to put an end to this blight was to use the Aspect stones themselves, in exchange of a Druidic life. They share that the Followers are weak, as weak as their thoughtform worshipping. = Before the Druids turn to aid their kin in fighting off the voidal mages, they were informed that the cultists have another cabal living within a cavern nearby. To act quick. [!] A poor drawing of the Nemesis voidal cultists that were slain = Again would these voidal mages fight with staves and balls of fire, casting occasionally at the group. All twelve of them were slain, not one person on the trip injured.

Scribed by Father Circle Druid, Eretria Arvellon Members: Sister Wildlife, Sister Seahorse, Brother Bismuth, Brother Everwinter, Brother Rage, Evar’lae Amayril, Tali’mordu, Ahng Gulr, Aista Date: 11th of Snow’s Maiden 69 SA Location: North of Nevaehlen, Southern portions of the blighted land Notes: = Arrived at the edge of the voidal hollow zone and the air was thicker and unnatural. Marched forward at the direction where the stick that was found, one dropped in the Father Grove from a growth that appeared = The stick guided the Druids in particular toward the tree that beckoned = Through the treacherous landscape, the group came across a precarious path over a ravine that bubbled and moved like a creature = The majority of the group decided to search for a different path but a few others had a different idea = A few ventured into the ravine and found themselves in some odd goo like sand, pulling them down. The rest of the scouting party managed to pull the two stuck, out = Eretria communed with the stick, which had told the group to travel north-east over a tall mountain and through a valley = They came across a large structure of sorts, crystals jutted out of the landscape. It instilled a sense of forbidding in all of those present = They then arrived at the destination, a large tree that stood atop a hill which seemed to be the final bastion of the natural world in a corrupted landscape = As they approached, shadowy silhouettes emerged from behind it - voidal mages = Under a suppressive fire of arrows, the bulk of the group charged the mages, withstanding both fireball and blades with ease = The battle raged on, a massive boulder was dislodged from the mountain and sent tumbling down toward the middle of the group = Tali’mordu and Aista managed to make it out mostly unharmed, while Scoria’s leg was pinned = Suddenly a tear in the fabric of reality appeared atop the mountain. It seemed the mages had opened a voidal tear which began sucking everything nearby toward it [!] A crude sketch of the untainted tree beside a voidal tear that had opened = Eretria and a few others stealthily climbed up the side of the hill in an attempt to catch the remaining cultists off guard - all but one cultist was slain = As soon as the last mage was knocked unconscious, the stick Eretria held began to implode with energy. Eretria panicked, and chucked it into the voidal tear. However, the stick flew toward the tree instead = The tree and the area around it sprung to life as the stick was returned. The remaining voidal cultist was slain and the group made their way home

Miven Caerme'onn rushes the Lord Palatine, after the drawing of blood, to Nevaehlen's traditonal and ornate war horn. Atop the highest point of the Vale, Eirik sounds the horn for all to hear!

You're insane

I denied all the applications, some were sent links to reapply for ST Builder.

yub mi luv fizhing

[!] The following letter was scribed by an elder and sent out across Nevaehlen's glade and to friends afar. The eery stillness of Winter's presence thaws and the sound of emerging, huffing noses, chirping beaks and rustling branches fill the air. After this long, quiet and detrimental season, sprouts green from flourishing limbs -- signs of new life. While flora buds, fresh running water sings from the once deep-frosted terrain. As we turn the wheel, with death from Yule comes Ostara’s life, we pray to both Mother and Father for a season of prosperity and regrowth. The Father Circle invites citizens of Nevaehlen, as well as fellow allies to join us in the Rite of Ostara; to participate, rejoice, and celebrate new beginnings. Art by Charlie Bowater As the sun rises over the horizon, those of the Circle begin to decorate their homes of varying flowers and their bodies of tiva wreaths. Offerings of flora, herbs and wooden charms may be presented during the ritual. After the day's activities of decorating, painted in vibrant, lively colors, the Father Circle Drui, Acolytes and Raitheans meet along with their kin under the sun's highest point in the day. The Spring Raithean will call for those to bless the chosen seed of a tree, one the Archdruid had harvested during the early thaw of the season. While the sapling is planted by the Spring Raithean, each member of the Circle is invited to plant seeds of any flowers, to orbit around the youthful tree. Throughout Ostara, members are to take care of the flowers planted while the Raithean tends to the sapling. To carry on a tradition, a memorial for Sister Orison, Matriarch of Siramenor, Chieftess Awaiti of Sirame will be held, and the tree commemorated in her name. To wrap up the ritual as the sky falls dark over our heads, the Spring Raithean will lead a rite calling upon Cerridwen to bless the Circle, Grove, and Glade to bring about a new generation. During the rite, the Spring Raithean will place an egg within a sea shell filled with water sourcing from the attunement pool. The liquid is black in nature, having been produced by the Father Tree itself. The egg is then given to a chosen child, teaching the valuable lesson of new life. Throughout the remainder of the spring season, members of the circle tend to the flora to ensure a prosperous summer solstice while also partaking in their duty of reclamation, aiding in the return to nature to whatever ruin or site feasible. Raithean of Spring [OOC: The Rite will take place Saturday, April 23rd at 6:30pm EST. Meet at the Father Grove moot room within Nevaehlen!]