The svelte form of a lone mali’aheral could be seen slowly treading through the thick undergrowth of his once quaint village, now bustling with activity and noise as the descendants of Malin hastily prepared for the coming infernal tide. The elf would stop, the man’s ocean blue gaze trailing around the square of the town, a small frown etched upon his tired face as he saw his people prepare for a war which they never asked for. His eyes would fall upon Eir’thall, Kaaene, and the rest of Ilathdyn as they could be seen supplying weapons to passersby, their usual tone of prejudice and discrimation replaced with cold determination as they readied the village for the battles to come. Next would be Sirame such as Awaiti and Aedrie, scholars and priests of unparalleled wit and steadfast minds, diligently began whisking away the manuscripts and scrolls of Siramenor’s sprawling library, the destination? The citadel- Caras Sylvadrim, where great houses of yore such as Sylveari, Kaeronin, and Telemnar proudly uphold what it means to be an Almenodrim of Aegrothond. The men and women of these age old families could be seen littered along the ramparts of the stronghold, the deep grooves of the stone walls hosted a plethora of sprawling plant life upon the mountainous surface of the weary castle. Amongst the bodies one might see Feanor, the Sea Prince of Elvenesse, accompanied by Belestram Sylveari and a contingent of nervous council members. The party traveled throughout the palace, greeting worried guards, soothed children with gentle words, and oversaw the construction of great fortifications which dotted the citadel with bristeling weapon emplacements.
Yet they were not alone in their task, the druids of Siramenor could be seen at work along the coastline, calling upon nature to usher the great sprawl of vegetation into siege emplacements of unparalleled durability. Present amongst their number were druids such as the Nebula and Phoenix, the pair working tirelessly with their Arvellon kin to shape the shore into an unbreakable defensive. The waves lapped upon the mali’s heels as they poured every ounce of themselves into the formation of these much needed weapons. As the elves along the coastline focused, the Taliame’onn would be seen everywhere; some gathered local herbs, while others such as Skylar shouted profusely for someone to bring him the salves he requested many elven days ago. Tanyl’s pale eyes swept from one subject to the next as notes were delivered to him and questions were shouted his way.
This had been the constant atmosphere of Elvenesse since the False Sultan Ma’ga’nus C’arne had stated his intentions of marching upon the peaceful lands of Malin’s people, yet they refused to kneel. “Tanyl!” Would be heard from behind the ‘aheral, a detachment of heavily armored Caerme’onn guard came to a halt as the man, now stated as Tanyl turned to look upon them. “Karin’ayla Mal’onn, do we continue on track?” A red haired Caerme’onn would ask, who Tanyl knew by the name of Artanis. “Ti, I spoke to Laetranis and the Tahorran earlier today, they stated Llan'saes fortress would be ready to sail tonight,” Tanyl replied, pausing to suck in a small breath before he began to continue, “Abelas, take a group of warriors to meet Avius and Oryl, I am ordering you to sail toward the paladin camp in Korvassa. Make sure they fare well, there are supplies outside of the citadel which I promised them.” Abelas nodded in response, the mali turned to depart as Tanyl returned his attention back to Artanis. A smile was shared between the pair before Artanis led his helmed warriors in the direction of the demon-consumed desert, Tanyl sighed; he did not know every warrior he met- they would die anonymous, unknown by even the man who claimed to lead them. The ‘aheral would shake the feeling off as he continued on his way, pausing to speak to Miven and Medli as he went, the pair chatting in hushed tones as they assisted in the distribution of armor to anyone who could don a suit of plate. “Some people are at the gate Tanyl, you might want to speak to them,” Medli would inform the man, a weak smile is all she received in response as Tanyl made his way to the gates. To the ‘aheral’s surprise, four new figures awaited him, each different in race and stature, all speaking to Olorin Telemnar under the soft shade of the woodland canopy. First amongst them were Jorvin Starbreaker, the ashen dwed’s booming voice was unmistakable to those who he had met before. Arranged around him were Isalie Gardner, Thain to the wee halflings of Brandybrook. Followed by King Halvar Edvarrson, the ever stoic young king of Norland, the man’s dark eyes shone with a kindness which his robust build did not equate. Finally amongst their number stood Nivndil Asimulum'ker, her verdant gaze regarding the rest of the party with intent interest, a small nod passing between the two druids present. As the normal exchange of pleasantries came to an end, Nivndil spoke up, a gentle green flare recognizable in her eyes as she spoke, “We heed Elvenesse’s call, your people will not fight alone on this day.”
A stark white bird of prey would be seen flying from Siramenor, four letters being taken....
To Nivndil Asimulum'ker
To Jorvin Starbreaker
To Halvar Edvarssson
To Isalie Gardner
Hey y’all, I wrote this during my AP Psych class because I was bored and wanted to. The little story at the top is obviously just a fun little flavor thing, I hope you liked it.. I can’t say it took too much effort though so if you don’t I get it. The four brief letters detailed in this post are directed to Urguan, Norland, BrandyBrook, and Talus Grove respectively. I hope to organize a meeting with you four, plus potentially more groups if they come to us wishing to help in the following days after this post.