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[!] Within every non-abandoned foothold of those vile tundras, rotted effigies adorned with crosses and twig alike line the outer walls, black fabrics string from frozen oaks which flayed corpses hang at nigh impossible heights. And in its wake, a horrid sight is beheld; a flock of darkly garbed women, given the company of towering plate-clad who lifted scepters burning with a smokeless flame. With their very presence; the snow seemed to darken, abyssal in hue, like a mass of shadow that swept the north in the night, fleeing only when those burning ill omens had vanished from the sight of what few glanced upon them; leaving only a yellowed papyrus with a two-headed crow printed as insignia. [!] On the notice boards of every northern city and littering their streets, the following is scribed in scarlet ink. “Mercy- mercy, mercy, plea, son of man and malin, Flame and Godan- Know only a wretch may suffer, know only the relinquished shall be freed. Hear the crow caw from beneath the moon, the night is nearing, the dark prevails, a symptom of your sin, a blemish of your folly. Absolve thine selves, kneel until you rend flesh and vein against the earth, face Terra with cries of repentance, pray for absolution, or starve as the leper refusing his treatment. You have long since propped yourselves within HER domain, long since mocked HER winter, flee; and never return; know that with your short lives, leads the warning for those to come, never again will you step within HER Empire, lest you befall a war unseen since Westerlands was swallowed in darkness. Bleed the blood of beggars, or die the death of usurping tyrants; no man, no woman, no child, no elder is safe; for DOOM comes, and your chance to weep unto the Absent Father is soon to depart; leave HER lands, or face the atrocities of an unyielding curse, one to last even after the weak and the sinful have been made with earth and sea. The Mother watches, her crows stalk your every hall, she knows the faces you hold so dear, she knows your secrets you keep so near; depart from her EMPIRE, so that you may not suffer the harvest your blasphemy has sown.” [!] The Crow insignia is depicted, and beneath, the missive continues. “You have but a fleeting day, before we spread winter far more vicious than anything you’ve ever witnessed, before your crops are wilted and your cattle conjoin with the earth, pray, and only with the MERCY of GOD will you be spared this fate.”

Nestled deep within the far north, clouded behind the whistling winds and blowing snow, the faint sounds of music can be heard ringing through the hills and mountains. Carried upon the winds would be the faint smell of grain, complimented by a tinge of something sweet. The closer one would come to the source, the stronger these senses would become. The music would reveal itself to be a number of string instruments being drowned out by a heavy THUMPING of dozens of boots keeping rhythm, all of which being accompanied by muffled singing and ambient chatter. The scent would grow heavy with alcohol, so much so that some might even claim that the smell alone was enough to intoxicate them. To those who knew the northern Tundra well, there is only one location that could produce such stimulating smells and scents, WYRVUN’S LANDING, located within Ikur’fiyem of the Fennic Remnants, maintained by the famed Quenters. Since the dawn of the Mali’Fenn there has always been an attempt to pass on historical and cultural traditions. For centuries a grand library had stood amongst the ‘Fenn, filled with books detailing the rocky history of the tundra dwelling elves. But as tragedy struck and Cataclysms shook the people to the brink of extinction the library steadily lost more and more of its sprawling collection. As the mighty Fennic Capitals were brought to ruins by all manner of disaster it quickly became evident that a new system needed to be devised, one that could survive the struggles of a Cataclysm and live on through the surviving community. Thus, the Quenters were born at the dawn of the Fennic Remnants. An amalgamation of various artistic forms brought together under a single roof to be practiced, performed, and passed on from generation to generation. Under the guidance of the Mavalmir (Head Quenter) the Quenters have flourished into a sprawling network of cheerful musicians, artists, performers, story tellers, barkeeps, and brewers. Structure and Hierarchy Titles of the Quenters [!] A notice is hung upon the wall of Wyrvun's Landing. In an elegant handwriting it reads... ༺══════──────────────────────────══════༻ While it may appear so, do remember that looks can be deceiving, as Quenters are more than just Tavern wenches and innkeepers. They are the lore holders for the Fennic people and those who have decided to call these walls their home. They are bardic artists, composing cultural ballads and crafting unique instruments of their own design. They are spirit brewers concocting unique mixes and drinks, and they are story tellers passing on lessons and history through tales. Quenters serve as the heart and soul of all Fennic people. If you are an individual who has been captivated with this brief explanation, please seek out one of the many Quenters in Wyrvuns Landing to explain more of the structure of the artistic collective within Fenn. ༺══════──────────────────────────══════༻ Schools of Art [!] At the bottom of the poster a number of tear off off squares can be seen... •──────────⋅☾ ☽⋅──────────• Please fill out and return to a bartender if interested in joining the Quenters. Name: Race: Age: [[OOC]] Username: Discord: Timezone: (Post application as reply) •──────────⋅☾ ☽⋅──────────•

ISSUE OF SUMMONS: SOLOMON (SUNS SMILE 63 SA.) ISSUED AND CONFIRMED BY HIS GRACE, PRINCE SIGIRATH II, HALERIR OF FENN, ON BEHALF OF THE ARCHONIC COUNCIL, THE 12th OF THE SUNS’ SMILE, 63 SA. To the good people of Iku’fiyem, The one known as Solomon, @FunOnTheBun, is hereby summoned to an audience in Archonic Court, to discuss and face trial for the accusations levied below. Solomon is to report to the Halerir, to arrange a suitable time for the trial and discuss procedure. Failure to respond, or send word within three Saints days, will be taken as an admission of guilt and judgment will be passed in your absence. He is Charged With: ● Attempted murder of a government official. ● Four (4) counts of disturbing the Peace. ● Three (3) counts of denunciation of Wyrvun. ● Five (5) counts of blasphemy of Wyrvun. Signed, HIS GRACE, Sigirath Tundrak II, Halerir of Fenn, Duke of the Hills, Saviour of the Peoples, etc.

North of Cloud Temple, past the rolling planes and lush forests of Almaris is a frigid expanse of snow and ice that few dare traverse. The Rimeveld is the sprawling tundra battered by windswept snow and the formidable arctic hills whose very being seeks to consume whoever may explore their depths. It is an unforgiving land that provides little in the way of civilization but is bountiful in its hazards. The powerful storms and dangerous terrain is enough to send most men into an early grave if one does not watch their step, but the Far North is home to more dangers than simply snow and ice. The beasts that roam the lands are often hungry and seek more than simple crops to live on. They are pillagers, scavengers, and hunters looking to feed upon any unsuspecting victim that might cross their path. For those who travel through the Rimeveld, either claiming their bravery or hiding their foolishness, there is a single settlement beyond the northern travel hub that may provide shelter. The Dual Principalities of Nor’Asath and Fenn stand in opposition to the battering storms and prowling monsters that roam the lands. Those who call the city their home have been hardened by the environment they reside in, adapting to the challenges that they face. These stewards of the Rimeveld frontier serve as the mediator between the civilized lands of the descendants and the wild front of the far north. “Through all my travels of Almaris, across the deep southern savannah, through the lush forests of the western coast, and over the mountains of the Dwed, I have come across no land more formidable than that of the Rimeveld. If Almaris were forged by some higher entity, then the lands of the Rimeveld were intended as a cruel joke to be played upon the Descendants. Whether it be by toothy maw, billowing storm, avalanche, or fenatic cultists death looms ever present within the Far North. But for the lucky few who may prove their strength against the looming dangers of the Rimeveld and answer it's call, glory and honor will certainly follow.”

The Saneyir’s Election, Yr 61 SA Regarding the election of the Saneyir of the Bloodless, there has been much speculation regarding the election date, time, and the specific requirements for candidacy. This missive shall provide all information for candidates, both future and present. To vote, you must be a citizen of Fenn, own property in Fenn, or be a member of the Ivae’fenn belonging to no currently represented bloodline, talonii, clan, seed, etc. Candidates may announce themselves at any point before the voting. I, Ayred Drakon, will be managing the elections, the commencement of which shall be publicly announced. On the ballot, voters will include their name, valid address, race, and age. In order to sign up for election, announce your candidacy, to include assurances that you are qualified to run - including name and address. If elected, you will serve a 4-year term, roughly 1 elven month. You are free to do what campaigning you will have before the date of the election which shall be announced soon. Penned on the Authority Of, The Halerir Of Fenn, Vigilant of Charity, Ayred Drakon Prince of Fenn, Prince of the Snow Elves, Vytrek Tundrak

Preface - Any who break the following laws and avoid due punishment or fail to present themselves for duties agreed are exiled, blacklisted, and all of their rights shall be forfeit; they shall be considered enemies of the state. Illicit acts not expressly mentioned are to be reported to the Ivae’fenn Repeated offenses ought to render the offender subject to incremental increases in punishment up to level four, to a maximum of one level increase per repeated incident. Multiple offenses ought to render the offender subject to multiple punishments within the given range. Judgement of any form, be that trial, conclave, or singular decision, shall consist of three stages: An accusation of a crime A determination of guilt or innocence A determination of punishment Punishment shall fall within the listed range of appropriate levels, or below it if deemed appropriate. The Archonic Council may at any time make amendments, additions, or changes to hereby stated laws. The Prince/Princess reserves the right to overrule the Archonic Council, Ivae’fenn, Vigilants, and the laws stated herein. Jurisdictions and Classifications - Offenders - Under this legal codex, offenders are to be classified as citizens, co-citizens, or outsiders. Citizens are defined as all Mali’fenn, residents, and soldiers of the Ivae’fenn. Citizenship may be stripped from an individual by the Archonic Council at Penal Levels 3-4, and by the Prince/Princess at their discretion. Citizens shall have the right to trial for offenses at Penal Levels 1-4, to be judged by the Archonic Council. Co-citizens are defined as listed residents or soldiers of the Dual Principalities that are not citizens of the Principality of Fenn. Co-citizenship is at the discretion of the co-citizen’s respective Prince/Princess. Co-citizens shall have the right to trial for offenses at Penal Levels 1-4, to be judged by the Archonic Council. The Prince/Princess of Fenn and the respective Prince/Princess of a co-citizen must be informed once a co-citizen is detained/arrested/imprisoned and/or brought to trial. Outsiders are defined as all those who do not fall into one of the above categories. Outsiders have no right to trial; for all Penal Levels, authority is granted to Wardens, Sentinels, and Valkyrim of the Ivae’fenn to assign and enforce punishment. Enforcers Section 1 The law is to be enforced by ranking members of the Ivae’fenn, to include all ranks barring Initiate. Offenders are subject to judgement by the Archonic Council. Citizens and co-citizens are subject to arbitrary detainment, to be released after one Elven hour if a criminal accusation cannot be formally leveled by a ranking member of the Ivae’fenn, whereupon they are to be imprisoned or released to await trial at the discretion of the ranking member of the Ivae’fenn. Citizens and co-citizens are subject to indefinite arbitrary detainment by Valkyrim of the Ivae’fenn. The matter is to be brought before the Prince/Princess at the earliest possibility in order to be resolved. Outsiders are subject to indefinite arbitrary detainment. Section 2 The law is to be enforced by ranking members of the Ivae’fenn, to include all ranks barring Initiate. Offenders are subject to judgement by Wardens, Sentinels, and Valkyrim of the Ivae’fenn. Section 3 The law is to be enforced by Vigilants of Wyrvun. Offenders are subject to judgement by the Archvigilants of Wyrvun. Citizens and co-citizens are subject to arbitrary detainment, to be released after one Elven hour if a criminal accusation cannot be formally leveled by a Vigilant, whereupon they are to be imprisoned or released to await trial at the discretion of the Vigilant. Citizens and co-citizens are subject to indefinite arbitrary detainment by Archvigilants of Wyrvun. The matter is to be brought before the Prince/Princess at the earliest possibility in order to be resolved. Outsiders are subject to indefinite arbitrary detainment. Penal Levels - 0: Verbal warnings. 1: Fines, hard labor, repossession, temporary and areal banishment, stripping of posts. 2: Lashings, imprisonment, extended banishment. Notices are to be left to all members of the Ivae’fenn. 3: Eviction, extended imprisonment, exile, stripping of citizenship. Notices are to be left to all members of the Ivae’fenn. 4: Execution. Notices are to be left to all members of the Ivae’fenn. For citizens and co-citizens, the Prince/Princess must consent. Repeated offenses grant a maximum punishment level increased by 1, in the case of every crime. Section 1, General Conduct - Section 1.1, Infraction Disturbing the peace: Level 0-1 The crime of disorderly conduct, willingly creating a public disturbance. Section 1.2, Misdemeanor Vandalism of property: Level 1-2. Defacement of property, alteration without express permission be it with the exception of publicly distributed objects, ex flyers. Breaking and entering: Level 1-2 Entering a building through any amount of force ex, breaking windows and lock picking doors. Trespassing: Level 1-2 The lack of knowingly entering another's property without express permission. Minor shoplifting or theft: Level 1-2 The action of stealing or shoplifting possessions valued at or under 40 mina. Defamation: Level 1-2 Defamation is defined as statements of such that are reasonably susceptible of defamatory connotations, targeted towards an individual, organization or bloodline, intent on daming their name, reputation, social status or otherwise. Statements twisted to fit a narrative, and biased presentation of events are included under this. Public use of drugs: Level 0-1 Use of restricted or addictive substances in a public setting, such as cactus green, quartz, tobacco, etc. Underaged use of drugs: Level 0-1 Use of restricted or addictive substances as a minor or juvenile under Fennic law (Under thirty) Section 1.3, Felony Formation of a criminal organization: Level 3-4 A group or organization associated with 3 or more persons with a history of disturbing the peace, vandalism, or any actions with criminal intent. Shoplifting & Theft: Level 2-3 Any instant of stealing possessions over 50 mina Extortion: Level 2-3 Any person who communicates threats onto another with the intention of obtaining value, for themselves, other interested parties. Alternatively, forcing an individual's hands into actions. Bribery / Accepting Bribes: Level 1-3 Any person who offers or accepts bribes to officials and/or soldiers. Kidnapping: Level 3-4 Any person who unlawfully seizes, abducts and, holds ransom any person within the lands of the Fenn. Inter-racial relationships: Level 2-4 Entering into a relationship where a child of anything other than pure mali blood (ex, half valah, half bortu) can be produced. Manslaughter: Level 3-4 The unlawful killing of an individual, without malice Murder: Level 3-4 The unlawful killing of an individual with malice or premeditation. Assault: Level 2-3 Unlawful force or violent intention to do bodily harm to any individual within Fenn’s borders. Attempted murder: Level 3-4 Any person who attempts to kill another individual with malice or forethought. Assault on military or government officials: Level 3-4 Any attempt to use unlawful force to dissuade military or government officials from performing their duties. Arson & Major destruction of property: Level 3-4 An attempt to willfully and maliciously set fires, intent on destruction, or mass defamation, destruction, or alteration of property. Impersonation of royalty, military, or government officials: Level 3-4 Willingly, falsely represents themselves as a member of such denoted organizations as the Ivae’fenn, the Tundraks, or any government position recognized by the Tundraks. Slavery: Level 3-4 The state, condition, or practice of trafficking live persons, or claiming ownership of an individual. Enslaved persons are to be liberated. Treason: Level 4 Aiding and abetting a hostile nation or group. Section 1.4, Entry and Martial Areas. Entry into Fenn One may not cover one’s face, or enter with ‘tools of destruction’ Tools of destruction are devices specifically oriented to the destruction of the landscape, or such devices that would bring specific destruction to the surrounding landscape if used. Enemies of Wyrvun, such as those denoted by the Vigilants of Wyrvun, are not allowed within the lands of Fenn. Citizens or organizations or nations, enemies of Fenn, are not to be granted entry and are to be detained. Martial Areas Entry into military areas without the express permission of an Ivae’fenn Warden, Sentinel, or Valkyr is trespassing. This includes the walls and citadel, as well as areas belonging to the Tundraks specifically. Section 2, Military Conduct and War - Section 2.1, Ivae’fenn Conduct Desertion: Level 3-4 Punishment Willingly, knowingly, and in the right mind departing from your post without deception. Abuse of power: Level 1-3 To abuse your rank to knowingly belittle or arrest a citizen, non-citizen, or outsider upon false charges Insubordination: Level 1-3 To knowingly, willingly, and in the right mind disobey the orders, direct or otherwise of a superior officer of the Ivae’fenn. Repeated offences are subject to level 4 punishment Fraudulent Enlistment: Level 1-4 Any person who enlists into the Ivae’fenn by knowingly, falsely representing their desires, or deliberately concealing their qualifications and or history. Section 2.2, War Laws Citizenship of a hostile nation: Level 3 To be a citizen of a nation or group with which the Principality of Fenn is at war. Military service or official service to a hostile nation: Level 3-4 To be a soldier or official of a nation or group with which the Principality of Fenn is at war. Section 3, Religious Conduct All laws subject under section 3, vigilants of Wyrvun hold authority over the command of Ivae’fenn personnel, guardian rank and under in the apprehension of individuals in violation of here-stated rules and are to be treated, when in joint-operation with the respect and obedience akin to that of a warden. Arch-vigilants akin to sentinel. If no vigilant is available, the punishment shall be dealt with on a case-to-case basis up to level 3. Impersonation of a Vigilant of Wyrvun: Level 3-4 Any individual who willingly, falsely represents themselves as a member of the Vigilants of Wyrvun. Blasphemy: Level 0-1 The act of offensive speech, sacrilegiously about Wyrvun, sacred objects, places, and people. To speak profanely of Wyrvun or his realm or the duties assigned to his stewards. Defacement: Level 1-3 The action of spoiling the surface, the appearance of status, wayshrines, art pieces, artifacts, or general paraphernalia used, attributed or reasonably held in association with Wyrvun. Denouncement: Level 0-3 To publicly declare Wyrvun being wrong, evil, or thereby disrespecting him or his stewards. Disregarding the contract taken up by the Mali’fenn, and other races and individuals who hold respect for Wyrvun. Foreign Religion: Level 0-2 Private practice of other religions in Fenn is legal. Openly declaring other religions, or preaching other religions inside of Fennic lands is a crime. Practicing foreign deific magic: Level 0-2 Connecting, or drawing power from any deity with the exception of Wyrvun is considered a crime inside of the lands of Fenn. This includes all magics classified as defic magics, and broadly termed ‘dark magics’. Deific magic is defined as an ability that draws its roots in a deity. Dark magic is classified as magic that requires the exploitation, destruction, deception, or general wronging of another individual for its practice. Voidal connection & Casting: Level 0-2 Connecting, casting or interacting in any such way with the void is inherently destructive to the land. Warrants a telling off, if one refuses to disconnect they are liable to arrest until a vigilant can properly render punishment. Acceptions to this law are commonly granted by vigilants in times of greater danger than the void. Ex, if there is reasonable suspicion that a being or entity will cause more damage to the land, the people upon, etc, then connect to the void will then casting is allowed in self-defense. Enemy of Wyrvun: Level 3-4 To be declared an enemy of Wyrvun by the Archvigilants. The Archvigilants of Wyrvun may declare individual non-citizens or groups of non-citizens to be enemies of Wyrvun. Section 4, Rights & Clarifications - Section 4.1, Citizen Expectations & Rights A citizen or co-citizen shall not be subject to unfair or inhumane treatment if in violation of the law. Citizens, co-citizens, and outsiders have the right to challenge and refuse the challenge of duels with other citizens, co-citizens, and outsiders to settle disagreements. Such duels are not to be taken to death. Should a combatant die or be mortally wounded, a charge of manslaughter or murder may be filed. A citizen or co-citizen is granted the right of assumed innocence. A citizen or co-citizen has the right to appeal to the Prince/Princess of Fenn in case of a punishment equal to level 4. A citizen or co-citizen is granted the right to a trial. Citizens are not subject to extradition. The Prince/Princess of Fenn must directly agree to extradition. Citizens are expected to serve Fenn in their duties. This can include: Enlisting in the Ivae’fenn Paying taxes Volunteer work Labor for the state without pay

The Pact of Ash and Frost The Kingdom of Norland and The Fennic Remnants 5th of the Deep Cold, Year 55 of the Second Age ARTICLE I - SOVEREIGNTY The Kingdom of Norland and The Fennic Remnants recognize each other as independent lands ruled by their respective monarchs, and will make no attempt to subvert the authorities governing them. ARTICLE II - NON-AGGRESSION The Kingdom of Norland and The Fennic Remnants will adhere to a pact of non-aggression, and will not incite conflict between them. They will also not engage or join another defensive agreement, against the other. ARTICLE III - TRADE The Kingdom of Norland and The Fennic Remnants enter into an agreement of free-trade between the signatories. Nation-affiliated merchants shall be allowed to trade in the other’s nation without unnecessary tax or harassment. ARTICLE IV - DURATION This treaty will remain in effect for five years. It may be renewed by mutual consent of both The Kingdom of Norland and The Fennic Remnants. In the case where either is found by the other to be in violation of this treaty, all articles will remain in effect, while the signatories search for diplomatic resolutions. In the Name of, His Royal Highness, Vytrek Tundrak, Prince of the Fennic Remnants, Prince of the Mali’fenn His Royal Majesty, Vane Freysson Ruric , King of Norland, Duke of Varhelm, High Chieftain of the Rurikkid, Protector of Highlanders The Rt. Hon. Lady, Leyna Edvardsson, Baroness of Krew, Chieftain of Kazimir, Envoy of the Kingdom of Norland

From the northern reaches of Almaris is spread a fresh, brief missive, which finds itself directed towards Malin's realms. It bears the mark of the Fennic Remnants. Since the very genesis of the Mali'fenn, we have found ourselves more often at odds with Malin's realms than in league with them. Through the ages, we have cast off our conflicts with the Mali'ker and Mali'ame, and established fruitful relations as sons and daughters of Malin. Yet, one rivalry - ancient and hostile - has proven difficult to bury. Even as links with the Mali'ker and Mali'ame have warmed, ties between Mali'fenn and Mali'aheral remain frigid. Yet, amidst this darkness, we have seen light. Spurred by the burgeoning friendship between our peoples - one forged in fire and blood amidst mutual battle against the northern apparition, and the footsoldiers of darkness that spawned it - the Fennic Remnants recognizes the claim of Ivarielle I to the Aheralic throne. Whereas past attempts to bridge the hostility between the Mali'fenn and Mali'aheral have proven insincere and insufficient, we hold hope in our newfound friends and their ability to forge an Aheralic dynasty that works towards the benefit of Elvenkind. Signed, Vytrek Tundrak, Prince of the Fennic Remnants, Prince of the Snow Elves

Blood, Snow and Shadow “When your City is in flames with the walls crumbling around you and the very air in your lungs is choked with ash and ember.. When your citizens are hung from the walls and the banners of the Black Sun hang from the ruins of your Keep.. it will be too late to renounce your False Gods. We offer you this one final chance at Salvation.” - The Barrowlord Astark to the imprisoned High Prince of Fenn, Vytrek. In all of Fenns long and storied history, this would be their darkest of days. A day forever to be remembered, where the Stalwart Light of the few stood against the coming dark in what was to be their final hour. The actions that played out this day would determine the fate of their city and their people as they stood on the very brink of annihilation. And yet.. The Nations of Almaris did nothing, standing on the sidelines and choosing to battle their Descendant brothers and sisters in petty disagreements between Nations and perceived insults. Killing and maiming each other over material possessions, land and titles. If only they knew that once Fenn had been reduced to ash and rubble and the banners of the Blackened Sun hung from their walls.. That this host of Xion, this Legion of the Damned would be on their doorstep next. And so the embattled defenders of Fenn stood alone. The Ivae’Fenn, the Vigilants, the ordinary citizens of Fenn and their Azdrazi allies.. Surrounded on all sides as the jaws of death closed in on them. With a Prophecy foretold, warning of the coming events, they did all they could to bolster their defences and forge new weapons. But would it be enough? ❄ The Battle of Fenn Begins ❄ And so that fateful day arrived, an eerie silence taking hold of the city as the defenders stood ready. The Archvigilant of War assessed the defences and the nervous defenders, he had faith in his people and in Wyrvun to carry them to victory. Several lines of defences had been set up between the main gates of the city and the Keep, the once peaceful city had been turned into a veritable fortress that stood ready to receive the Blackened Host. And so it began.. The silence would be broken as thousands of trumpets pierced the wintry air and the howling winds of the blizzard that still ravaged the city. They could not see their foe, the unhallowed fogs and blistering blizzards obscuring their sight to nothing. Yet, the Children of Fenn had prepared themselves, wearing magical helmets to detect the heat signatures of their foes in the mists. Bang. Bang. Bang.. the Gates of Fenn were battered relentlessly, the cries and moans of the undead crying out for the blood of the defenders in the names of their dark masters. Then, with a thundering crack would the gates be breached and the horde of the damned poured through into the streets of the city. “Open Fire!” The command was relayed to the defenders, several ballista and regiments of archers readied their weapons before unleashing a hailstorm of projectiles into the breach and the horde swarming through it. The projectiles glinted under the blackened sun overhead, their arrowheads of aurum and thanium seeming like a descending storm of stars that laid waste to the first wave. Arms and armour fell to the ground as phantasmal warriors were slain in the hundreds, being manifested and banished to whatever realm they had come from. Yet it was nowhere near enough. The first line of defences were quickly overwhelmed, an intense aura of dread taking hold of the city as the undead horde butchered and slaughtered their way through the Fennic defenders without mercy. Chanting the name of their Forsaken Lord and offering up Xionist chants to the Black Sun that lingered overhead. Those who had not succumbed to the butchery that took place in the first line of defence quickly retreated, falling back to the second line as Ballista's were reloaded and arrows were knocked in place. ❂ The Dark Lord Arrives ❂ From the midst of that carnage a towering figure clad in armour wrought of infernal design stepped forth, their stygian gaze coming to study the defiant defenders that stood in opposition to the Children of Xion. The Forsaken Lord of the Xionist forces had arrived, flanked on either side by an honour guard of towering stone Knights that pulverised any would-be assailant that dared neared this Dark God. A discordant choir of voices would make their presence known, booming forth from the armoured husk of that Forsaken Lord. “Children of Fenn, you have had your chance to repent and forsake your False Gods for years. And yet you still stand defiant, willful slaves to higher powers that care not for you or your kin! And so.. With a heavy heart does the duty of your execution fall upon us. We cannot allow you to be pawns to the Aengudemonica any longer..” “Open Fire!” came that command once more from the Fennic Commanders, another volley of ballista bolts, arrows and javelins descending upon the damned host and the Forsaken Lord. The efforts of the defenders would prove fruitless however, the Barrowlord extending forth a palm and bringing forth the mortal magicks at their command to summon an ectoplasmic barrier of immense proportions that stopped the hailstorm of projectiles in their path. A victorious cry would rise from the attackers as suddenly the atmosphere on the battlefield changed.. Both the Children of Fenn and the Children of Xion fell silent as the shadows seemingly intensified before retreating and being pulled into the centre of the city and the gaping crater that lingered there. The two armies stopped their fighting as they watched onward in terror as the Apparition awoke from its slumber under the earth. As a sickening laugh of a child's voice broke the silence, chaos was unleashed once more. The Apparition was the friend of none and the foe of all, laying waste to both the Children of Fenn and the Children of Xion in droves. It shifted in and out of reality, appearing in the midst of tightly pact formations of troops before tearing them limb from limb in brutal fashion. The forces of Light and Dark resumed their slaughter of one another and did their best to avoid the Apparition's wrath as the very streets of Fenn became slick with the blood of the fallen. There was one however that held the key to Fenns salvation and victory in this seemingly impossible fight, a Draconic Warrior and Champion of the Flame. Standing in the back line and offering aid to the beleaguered defenders, his very presence acted as a beacon that bolstered the faltering hearts of those who were overcome with fear and dread. With ease he laid waste to any hungering geist that managed to breach through their lines, cutting them apart and banishing them with blistering dragon's flame. Yet he was here for one in particular, his fiery countenance studying the carnage before him in search of the enemies Champion and Commander. There they were.. ❖ The Decisive Moment ❖ The Forsaken Lord was cutting a bloody swathe through the battlefield and leaving a great many dead in her wake alongside her Stone Guardians. Though her path of destruction would come to a sudden halt as the Apparition conjured forth a glimmering storm from the skies that unleashed devastation on the battlefield and tore into the Forsaken Lord’s Honour Guard and herself, cutting them apart. This was the opportunity the Fennic defenders needed, a single moment in the shifting events of the battle that would determine their victory or defeat. As the Barrowlord engaged in bloody close quarters combat, their armoured form would come to be destroyed and their true form would be exposed for all to see. The sickly radiant visage of the Wight Barrowlord ascending into the air above the battlefield as infernal weapons hovered around them intent on killing a great many more. Yet, unaware to this Lord the apparition hunted her.. Should the Apparition have claimed the power from this Forsaken Lord, it would be unstoppable. It would be unknown if the Draconic Champion knew this or not, but they were well aware of the opportunity that had presented itself and with their arm reared back a mighty spear of dragon flame was conjured forth and hurled with great speed. It punctured deep into the Barrowlords form, a shrill cry escaping their being as it was torn apart and exploded from within. This was the turning point of the battle and the Hierophant, the Forsaken Lords personal champion, sounded the call to retreat. Their voices booming across the battlefield for all to hear! “The Lord has fallen, retreat!” With this final act would the city of Fenn be saved, the Draconic Warrior watching as the Children of Xion were routed from the city only to watch as the Apparition descended on him in those final moments of the battle.. ↽ The Aftermath ⇀ And so the Defenders of Fenn would win the day, but at what cost? The streets of Fenn were covered with the slain bodies of hundreds and the gutters ran red with the blood of the fallen as the city burned. Many sons and daughters of Fenn had been slain, and the Apparition still yet lived in the Crypts below.. Would they continue to stand alone against this threat? Barely holding on to their lives as week after week, year after year they were assailed by the forces of the dark. Or would the Nations of Almaris finally turn their gaze to Fenn and rally to their aid? Only time would tell.

JUDGEMENT COMES “Change is inevitable. The Children of Xion shall usher forth this new age through fire and flame. And in the end.. You will either join our Crusade against the false Gods or be buried alive in the rubble of your city..” -Barrowlord of the Fog, shortly after the events in Fenn. An armoured figure sat languidly upon the throne of the Fennic Keep, their taloned digits scraping gently across the carved surface of the throne's armrest. Standing impassively before her was that Stoneborn Scion, one of her own creations, a silent guard to keep her company. Outside the Keep, the city bell continued to ring across the city square, rallying the warriors of Fenn to the defence of their city. Moments later and the entrance to the Keep was filled with the form of a Vigilant Warrior, one of Fenn’s finest. Luminescent cobalt mists drifted away from the Barrowlords helm as they cast their infernal gaze upon the entrance to the keep, regarding the first who had come to challenge her this day. “Ah.. at last! A Child of Fenn has finally come to receive their judgement” within the Infernal figures armoured helm, a great choir of voices rose up to speak in disjointed unison. As time passed more members of the Vigiliants and Ivae’Fenn swarmed the entrance and approached the Barrowlord and her Stoneborn companion steadily with weapons raised. Whatever conversation took place within the interiors of these halls was unknown to those who watched on from outside. One thing was for certain however.. The Children of Fenn would not condone the defilement of their Princes throne, nor the presence of the Darkspawn that had come to unleash damnation upon their city this day. With warnings offered and threats given, the battle would ensue and the halls of the Keep would come to be filled with the blood of Fennic warriors. The battle raged on for some time and to the onlookers that watched from afar, they could only bear witness as a terrible sickly fog engulfed the interior of the Keep and shrouded all those inside in a blanket of undeath. The clanging of blades and shouts from those engaged in battle was the only indication of what raged within. When the mists began to recede, that phantasmal form of the Barrowlord would fade from sight and leave the Stoneborn Scion standing alone at the entrance with the Fenn guard in pursuit. From the Stoneborns form came a defiant, rage filled voice that spewed forth one simple phrase as they clutched a large spherical container in their palm. Ectoplasmic waters spewing forth from the many cracks and dents that their husk had received “RADIANT IS THE BLACK SUN!” and with that defiant shout, the container was slammed hard into the wall and a massive explosion rocked the city of Fenn and disturbed what little peace was left. For those trapped inside, they would barely manage their escape as the main entrance collapsed and the entire structure was engulfed in flames and the air became choked with black smoke and ash. Judgement had been cast upon Fenn, and they had been found wanting. Little did they know of the evil that now slumbered beneath their feet, waiting to be unleashed.

For the second time in as many years, missives are spread from the northern reaches of Almaris, bearing the mark of the Fennic Remnants. For centuries, Haelun'or has carved a misguided path for the sons and daughters of Malin, and taken pride in setting the example for Elvenkind - no matter how mistaken, tyrannical, and disgusting that example may have often been. As my ancestors slumber within Isvin, they are no doubt given pause by the notion that I would now urge all of Elvenkind to look to the example of Larihei's spawn. It is not for inspiration that I draw attention to the Silver State, however; it is for warning. They have embarked on the same path as a half dozen Elven realms before them. So, too, have they met the same fate. It was the promise of protection that lured Haelun'or into signing away their independence to a foreign people. In the absence of internal strength, this has proven the most appealing option to many of Malin's realms. Yet, this protection did nothing to interrupt the abduction of their Sohaer by those who would be their enemies, and it has done nothing to see his return. They have sold everything for security, and found it to be a hollow bargain. As many of Malin's realms splinter and wither, no doubt other staples of Elvenkind will abandon their race for the protection of foreigners. To those Mali who would make themselves slaves, and to those who already have, take note: To your lieges, you are little more than an additional title. You are expendable. They will not protect you when it is inconvenient. They never intended to. Only Mali are fit to rule Mali. I pray that I live to see the day when this is so. Signed, Vytrek Tundrak, Prince of the Fennic Remnants, Prince of the Snow Elves

From the oft silent northern reaches of Almaris, missives are spread, bearing the mark of the Fennic Remnants. Long have the Elves of the North been a spectator to the affairs of Malin’s realms-at-large. The line of Aelthos, we Mali’fenn, have a well-earned reputation as those most distant children of Malin. History is riddled with our wars against the rest of Elvenkind. Yet, there comes a time when the affronts have grown too grievous, and decay too prominent, for silence to be maintained by any faithful sons and daughters of Malin. In light of recent affairs, we make our voices heard. Firstly do we express our distaste for those Mali principalities which have prostrated themselves before the lines of Horen and folk of Urguan. Without a fight, you have surrendered your arms and honor unto foreign peoples. You who refuse to bear steel shall always be beholden to those that will. It is this very weakness and cowardice that has spawned the phenomenon that births our next condemnation. Secondly and most importantly do we condemn those “Imperial Elves”, who have traded their cultures for safety, towers for manors, and bows for wigs. Many sons and daughters of Malin have flocked to foreign realms in the preceding centuries; it is a dishonor that taints our race. None of these vagrants are so distasteful as those that seek, purposefully, to uproot Malin’s children and turn them into effeminate sycophants to the lines of Horen. You, who lick at the very boots of those who would step upon you, are an embarrassment to us all. Mali who pretend to be valah deserve neither the friendship of the former nor the security of the latter. Let this be a warning to the Elven realms. Embrace a stronger future for Malin’s people, or be complicit in their destruction. Signed, Vytrek Tundrak, Prince of the Fennic Remnants, Prince of the Snow Elves

Beneath the sun's golden rays, dulled by cloudy skies, the snows of Fin'hesin melt away to their lowest point of the seasonal cycle. Though all is still covered in powdery white, the layer is thin, and green pokes through the unforgiving cold. The days grow longer, and for a time, the sun refuses to sit - instead lingering upon the horizon; a midnight sun, to cast the grey skies in gold and purple. It is a time of peace and plenty; within the Fennic Remnants, the Svarling attacks have withered, and the Mali'fenn know respite. Thus, they prepare for the Solstice of Peace - a rare time of merriment and laxity. Missives are thus spread throughout the Fennic Remnants. "Mali'fenn - With summer's arrival, I invite you all to celebrate the Solstice of Peace with me. As many of you know, this is a time of revelry, when we might enjoy some rare comforts. In our tavern, we shall drink, eat, tell stories, and jump over the flames of our cooking fires. This rest is well-earned." Signed, Vytrek Tundrak ______________________________________________ [[OOC]] This lil festival will be held Saturday at 7pm EST in the tavern!

They made their way to the gates. The Laughing Hag, cloaked and pale, carried him upon her shoulders. Bound and bleating was their vampyric prize, that darkspawn who had sullied an Archvigilant of Wyrvun - assaulting and corrupting her before that most sacred of wayshrines. He raged at the Vigilants who surrounded the pair with weapons drawn. Mention was made of the impermanence of what was to come, yet it was a lesson to be remembered; lest, they vowed, they hunt him down for a thousand years and return him to the dust each time he reformed. He pleaded with his captor, for they were two of a kind. What warranted such an act of betrayal? "You make too much noise," was the Hag's response. Upon stone and snow was he laid, before a roaring pyre that had already burned for one hundred days and one hundred nights, fed by a flood of Svarling corpses. There did the Laughing Hag perform her work, before at last, he was turned over to the Vigilants. With a cold indifference stepped forth the Vigilant of Hope, uncorking a bottle to pour seawater upon the darkspawn. He writhed and screamed; "What is death without a little pain?" the Vigilant mused. Reaching down, a gauntleted hand wrapped around the vampyre's throat, and lifted. Steel-clad digits held a vice-like grip upon his gullet, until only air lingered between feet and floor. "Wyrvun sends his regards," was the utterance, and shortly, the vampyre was tossed upon the flames. Screams pierced the night sky as he boiled and hissed. Flesh melted to bone, bone melted to dust, and all fell silent. Ash lingered in frigid air, mingling with the falling snow. The vampyres had bought peace. For now.

A missive is spread throughout Almaris, reading as follows: To the blood-hunters, or "vampires" - We know what you did. One of your kind called "Ludovici" attacked and corrupted an Archvigilant of Wyrvun. There is no greater sacrilege. We know where you live. Your covens have been uncovered. Your identities are known. We are coming. End this "Ludovici" and bring us his corpse, or we will annihilate you. The paladins may break bread with you and forsake their divine task, despite the will and bestowed powers of their "Xan" - but we will not compromise the will of Wyrvun. -Wyrvun's Vigilants

At long last, light peeks above the horizon in Fin'hesin. It bathes Ikur'fiyem in long, golden rays; the thick blankets of snow wither, beginning to mist away. From beneath the powder, buds of vibrant green begin to poke through, dotting the once barren landscape with color. At long last, the deep winter is over; spring has arrived for Fin'hesin. As the world begins to wake, the Mali'fenn prepare for a joyous festival - the Equinox of Birth. Missives are spread throughout the Fennic Remnants and beyond. "Mali'fenn, and friends - With the coming of spring, you are invited to celebrate the Equinox of Birth. As Wyrvun's lands are reborn, so too are we. You are all invited to celebrate this festival of life through a dance, to be held in our keep these coming days. Attendees are strongly encouraged to bring a partner; before the festivities begin, those who are single will be brought together to pair up as many as possible. Dress in white and green is also highly encouraged. I look forward to seeing you there." Signed, Vytrek Tundrak, Prince of the Fennic Remnants Special invitations are sent to the following: Miven Caerme'onn, Archdruidess of Nevaehlen, and her people @WestCarolina His Highness Evar'tir Oranor, High Prince of Elvenesse, and his people @Bhased His Highness Vival Velulaei'onn, Prince of Stygian Hollow, and his people @ColonelKuehl1 His Majesty Sigismund III, King of Haense, and his people @Xarkly His Majesty Vane, King of Norland, and his people @_pr0fit ____________________________________________________________ [[OOC]] Dance will be held Friday, September 24th and 7pm EST!

A willowy figure sat in the warm and cozied writing nook of her family Mannor, naught but the scratching of her quill and the absent words of song filling the lonesome space around her, a flickering candle illuminating the dark oak and warm reds of the room. A letter, carried by birds and horse, perhaps even bottle, would be soon be spread over the continent to any who cared to fall upon it. A thick parchment, scented of lavender, carried the following words in an elegant sprawl. "It is with a heavy heart I speak, and an even heavier hand I write, to announce that the funeral for the honorable Thalion Drakon is to be held this elven day. In the crypts of our city, before Wyvrun’s witness, I call on any and all who may wish to come and say their regards for the fallen soldier, father, husband, and once leader of the mighty Drakon bloodline. As he comes to grace the lands of fen’ciwn, Wyvrun’s domain, with his soul to be cradled in his safe embrace, still we grieve for the man lost of this realm. Most sincerly- Morael, standing Archon of house Drakon and Priestess of Wyvrun" ((ooc)) Funeral in Fenn, Today 7pm est in the square and then crypts!

The death of Thalion Araen Drakon 12th of the deep cold, 1836 ⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎ He wrote on a page... " Pure white lands sweeping across the horizon, untouched by agents of evil. Deep-dark towers of bark covered in dark greens, sprouting out of this desolate terrain. Bright blue icicles reaching onwards towards a starry-night sky, crystals gleeming and refracting beams of starlight outwards as if a performance for only my eyes to see. Wildlife having left prints in the snow, directed the way to their burrows and nests as if inviting me along. A single lit fire illuminating the folliage around itself, hues of red & orange obsorbed by the overwhelmingly white territory. " White lands always reminded him of his home in Atlas yet that was taken from him. Dark trees reminded him of his hunting trips with father yet he was taken from him. The blue icicles reminded him of the Ivae'Fenn, his own role within it over the countless wars and conflicts, yet it was all taken from him. Wildlife leaving imprints in the snow reminded him of the once-competant leadership of his people, always creating paths for others to recognise & follow yet that competant leadership was taken from them. A single lit fire reminded him of the brothers and sisters he made along his way through the past three-hundred years of life, each one of their deaths engained within memory, they were all taken from him. With a large sigh the Fenn' said: "Of all the atrocities committed, none are soo brutal as those originating from incompetance" giving into the idea that although he gave his utmost, it was all still his own incompetance which led to these numerous outcomes. Drinking through the night and feeding into his affinity with Ikurn'Valai, the Fenn' unbuttoned his clothes by the fire revealing the numerious scars, injuries and missing parts of flesh healed over by skin, incurred through nearly three-hundred years of perpetual war. His breathing was shaky at-best, the pain in his body had been growing more and more for a year now, he was certain his time would soon come. On the eve of the next day he painstakingly placed his armour on, grasping onto his trident and using it as leverage to stand up. Once fully equiped he set out through the wilderness, taking on the many different beasts of the cold north, each time becoming a little more worse off, each time gaining more injuries, each time incuring damage upon his Drakon armour... Muttering to himself once more through the gasps for breath: "none... soo brutal... as those... originating... from incompetance" falling onto a knee in the face of a large white bear, the Drakon contemplated his choice for a single second as the bear rose itself up on two feet, yet still, gaining a decisive look upon his face he'd jab up and catch the bear in the neck with the three prongs of his trident, losing his own strength to hold the weight of such a beast, the bottom of the trident fell and dug deep into the ground, a white bear hung from atop its prongs. The Drakon would set himself upright gasping for air and severely wounded, leaning against the corpse and smacking the side of the white bear a few times, he'd say: "A shame... that..." he'd cough up some blood before continuing "would've made... a nice rug... for the bathroom" his breath continued to slow as the large Elf, dawned in ruined armour, leaned against a large body of white fur, the ruined metal parts of the armour now bent inwards and pierced him. witnessing the Pure-white lands infront of him, the dark-bark trees, the bright-blue icicles and the now burnt-out fire... the Mali'Fenn drew his last breath. ⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎ Knowing his time to be running out, he left a series of notes days prior, the first to his wife, left at her bedside: (( @Starlight)) " Dearest Estelle, We both know the difficulties that faced our kin daily, and I hope you remember each one of those difficulties not for the tough times they created, but rather each of those that I faced head-strong, and at times alone. You know of my numerous injuries, you've seen them countless times and aside from that you still believed me invincible, yet you also knew a Drakon plans to die in service to his kin. Unfortunitely, I am not invincible and I will die, perhaps not in military service, yet still a death in service to our people. I was saved in vain, I tell you now that my injuries will take me soon and I sense you have also known for a while now, perhaps by the time you find this note I will have already passed. Yet even so, do not fall into disarray, I will not allow my death to be one of shame. For this is the last time I dawn my armour, for this the last time I wield my weapon, any & all hostile beasts I encounter lurking near the Fennic' Remnant will perish at my feet and eventually, I too will perish at the feet of one of these beasts, yet I will go honourably, taking many beasts with me, and succeeding in making our lands that little bit more safe for our kin and for our daughter. I must apologize to you Estelle, I will be spending my last moments alone, as much as one wishes to die in the company of love and comfort: I will not allow you nor anyone else to witness the unsightly view of witnessing yet another prideful-Drakon in his last moments of life, I welcome death and I will welcome you when it is your time to join me in Fin’ciwn when Wyrvun judges you worthy. Signed, Thalion" ⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐ A second note was left in the room of the Matriarch of the Drakon bloodline: (( @Sygnus_ @Little_Lulah)) " Honoured leader of the Drakon bloodline, I write to you as a notice, I am Thalion Araen Drakon and I bid you warning. It is known that I did not join the reformed Ivae'Fenn under Vytrek, nor did I stay in the new settlement, and yet still I have served more time in rank and as an officer than anyone else, yet I will not recieve military honours for my death. I fulfilled my responsibilities and what was due, and just like you I once served as the leader of the bloodline and for many Elven-years I built us up as one of, if not the strongest of all the families, so I demand of you: Do not let all that has been built fall into disarray, do not forget our values, our traditions. We are loyal, we are truthful, we are honourable and we are natural-born leaders, guide onto better tomorrows. Even now, as you read this letter I am assuring that my last moments are ones of honour, I will not fail our blood and I will not bring shame to our name. No matter what you hear of me, remember all that I have done, whilst it may not have been perfect, I did my utmost and encurred great loss in the process. Should you fail to uphold our bloodline I am certain Wyrvun will judge you unworthy and to your own fortune you would avoid encurring my wrath upon arriving in Fin'ciwn. Recover my body in the forests to the west, lead our people well and perhaps host a party or two to lighten hearts. Signed, Thalion-Araen of the Drakon Bloodline retired Sentinel of the Ivae'Fenn" ⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎ A third note was placed under the door of Vytrek Tundraks personal room: (( @Monkee)) " Chosen of Wyrvun, I, Thalion-Araen of the Drakon line call upon your resolve, do not follow in your fathers footsteps, do not yet again thrust us into more pointless war on the behalf of those who would not do the same for us. Of all those we aided and protected in the past, none have cared to return the good faith, even now as our Princedom devolves into a remnant they dare not show their face to you, they dare not after soo long tempt you with shallow excuses of their poor faith. As a Drakon I can only emphasize our traditional views; If war is inevitable then let it be upon all those who have foresaken us, the other Elven-kin care little for us, let war wage against those who talk of their might but fail to field enough military might to fend off common bandits. Though we spoke rarely, you were one of character and I do not believe you nor your brothers care to walk the path of your deranged father. Im sure you will hear word of my actions and their repercussions, yet do not think me a fool. I set the standard for all Drakon who come after me, right now resolve & duty must take precedence. Do not fail them. Signed, Thalion-Araen of the Drakon Bloodline retired Sentinel of the Ivae'Fenn" ⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐ The fourth note was slid under the Sylric manor door, meant for a friend (( @GrimDeValhalla)) " Mister old & ugly, Taveric, I have done something idiotic and impulsive once again, im sure you will find out soon enough. I'll be seeing our comrades in Fin'ciwn soon, im sure you'll end up here soon too with your old age. Right now I face down my last day of battle, my old injuries ache though my resolve has never been stronger than now. I may not have been present during the past few years but im sure with your own resolve you may once again pull your bloodline out of obscurity. Im sure your time will come and you will come face-to-face with Wyvrun, if he judges you too ugly to enter I would completely understand his decision, though I am also sure that if you mentioned the great Thalion Drakon Sentinel in the Ivae'Fenn of the Princedom of Fenn, and your role as my trusty-side kick, he'll be sure to let you in. I don't believe much needs to be said, I figured it was best that you found out this way than through someone else. Make sure whoever leads Drakon went I am gone, that they recover my body and I am not left to rot. Get to me before the animals strip my bones of flesh and ideally do it with haste, with your age you may never know how soon you'll keel over and with a face like that you may just be killed for no reason at all. Do be safe, and send Velatha my regards. Signed, Thalion retired Sentinel of the Ivae'Fenn" ⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎⥐⥎ (( OOC disclaimer: )) (( If you haven't gotten a letter or been told by someone who has, then you don't know about his death. ))

Silence blankets Ikur'fiyem, punctuated only by the song of shrill, biting wind, and the occasional howl of a hungry wolf. Now, even the brown and orange leaves have withered away, and all but the stout evergreens stand bare. Animals once prowled these lands to feast upon berries and prey; now, they have retreated to their caves for a lengthy slumber. Autumn is over. Winter has come to Fin'hesin; for a land of the cold and snow, it is suffocating. Yet, amidst the quietude and silent struggle, the Snow Elves find reflection. It is their holiest season, and so approaches one of their holiest days. From door to door, and even beyond the lands of Fin'hesin, a missive is spread. "Mali'fenn, and friends - I invite you all to celebrate the Solstice of Death with me - a sacred time for our people to reflect upon the ancestors, relatives, friends, and comrades who constitute our honored dead. Since our people's origins, in ancient times, countless 'fenn have departed our realm for eternal slumber in Isvin. Some laid down their lives willingly. For many others, they were given no choice - by steel or snow, they were robbed of centuries. I know none of you to be untouched by our most recent Cataclysm; the fall of the Princedom, and the years leading to our reformation here, cost us much. Together, we will visit the tombs of our dead, make a great offering to Wyrvun at the Wayshrine of Death, and then settle into a respectful silence until our feast, where we might celebrate and eulogize the dead." ________________________________________________________________________________ [[OOC]] The Solstice of Death is tomorrow (saturday)! Schedule 4pm EST: Crypt visiting - Snow Elves and bloodlines will visit the crypts, to see and clean the tombs of their loved ones. ~4:30-45pm EST: Pyre - A great offering will be made before the Wayshrine of Death, intended for the souls being remembered. Pyre-7pm EST: Silence - Out of respect for the dead, complete silence will reign in the Fennic Remnants. 7pm EST: Feasting - The silence will be broken with a feast in the tavern, where the Mali'fenn will eulogize and drink to the dead.

The Vigilants Vigilants serve as the priests and priestesses of Wyrvun. Drawn from the ranks of the faithful, they are the standard bearers of Isvinity, and fulfill a number of vital roles. Clad in cloaks of fur with scale-mail pauldrons, the most identifying feature of the Vigilants are the twisted, silver draconic horns forming a circlet upon their head, reminiscent of a wyvern. Most cloaks are brown, black, and grey, with white reserved for Archvigilants. Though often covered, the skin of a Vigilant is thoroughly and systematically scarred, particularly upon the arms, legs, and abdomen. Hierarchy A fully fledged Vigilant is bound to one of the four wayshrines, following the Path of Birth, Peace, War, or Death. Though they are not limited in the performance of duties at other wayshrines, their particular path allows them to focus on one aspect of their faith - a necessary feat, given the distance between wayshrines, which necessitates a delegation of important duties. From their path, the Vigilant assumes a moniker - a value or attribute related to their wayshrine. Among their own, Vigilants often call each other only by such monikers. Examples for Birth include Creation and Rebirth; for Peace, Wisdom and Serenity; for War, Strength and Agility; for Death, Reverence and Martyrdom. The Vigilant is tasked to excel in or represent this value above all others, serving as an example and counsel for the faithful. It is only through these values that a descendant can pass the ultimate test and survive the harsh climate of Fin’hesin - for to draw upon another deity is sacrilege, and to wield the void is to introduce chaos and sacrifice one’s own health. There are no shortcuts in survival. Rising above the Vigilants are the Archvigilants, one for each wayshrine - the Archvigilants of Birth, Peace, War, and Death - known primarily by their new path monikers and secondarily by their original ones. They hold dominion over their respective wayshrine and the Vigilants bound to it, including the ability to raise a novitiate of their path to full Vigilance, and together their council serves as the source of religious authority. From their ranks is selected a High Vigilant in agreement between the Archvigilants and prince, and the holder of this post maintains their status as Archvigilant. The High Vigilant advises the prince upon matters of religion; decision-making remains the realm of all four Archvigilants, though the High Vigilant may break a tied vote when they arrive at an impasse. Fresh Archvigilants are proposed by the High Vigilant and confirmed by their Archvigilant peers, with input from the prince. The prince, or princess, holds a peculiar status within the Vigilants. Their Vigilance is customary, but through divine right, they reign above even the High Vigilant. The alternative - a High Vigilant subservient to the prince in matters of politics, but a prince subservient to a High Vigilant in matters of religion - would be severely destabilizing. Thus, the prince takes precedence, but it is tradition for the reigning monarch to be uninvolved. Part of none of the Paths, the monarch may select any moniker, which then becomes divorced from the hierarchy for its duration. The participation of the prince in the affairs of Isvinity is a rare thing, for it represents a destabilizing effect upon the balance of the four Paths. Thus, royal intervention is a rarity, permitted only by extraordinary circumstances. Anything more is frowned upon. Relics In their capacity as Archvigilants, each is granted a relic, to be passed on to their successors upon death or abdication. These are the Breath of Isvin, Eyes of Isvin, Claw of Isvin, and Voice of Isvin. The Breath of Isvin is a lantern, and is held by the Archvigilant of Birth. This lantern is the tool through which the Vigilants transfer the sacred fire of their offerings from the Wayshrines. Fire drawn from the Wayshrine of Birth is used for the Cleansing Ritual and to light the hearths of the sick, and fire drawn from the Wayshrine of War is often used to light forges for weaponsmithing. Fire is light, and its spread makes things anew. Thus, it falls to the domain of Birth. The Eyes of Isvin are a ring of keys, held by the Archvigilant of Peace. These keys grant access to the Vigilants’ accumulated knowledge, buried in a library beneath the crypts. It is guarded jealously, for written knowledge is a rare and precious thing among the Snow Elves, and access may only be granted by the Archvigilant of Peace. Knowledge is fuel for the mind, and thus the keys fall under the domain of Peace. The Claw of Isvin is a glaive, held by the Archvigilant of War. This finely crafted weapon aids War in their primary task, being the physical protection of Fin’hesin from threats divine and mortal alike. From deific creatures to deific and voidal mages, it is only fitting that the embodiment of War wields for their relic a weapon. The Voice of Isvin is a horn, held by the Archvigilant of Death. Carved from a dragon’s horn, this instrument’s low tone is used for several purposes. One lengthy blast is sounded at the end of funerals to herald the coming of a new soul to Wyrvun, to be judged. Two blasts call for Conclave among the Vigilants. Three blasts sound an emergency or crisis relevant to the Vigilants. Other Vigilants may create and hold lesser relics representative of their monikers, to be held upon their death or abdication until a new Vigilant takes up their mantle. Novitiate Trials Before one ascends to full Vigilance, they must pass a series of trials, and until such a time are known as a Novitiate. These trials are to ensure that an aspiring Vigilant possesses the qualities necessary to serve Wyrvun. The first four center around each wayshrine, and are administered by a designated Vigilant. The final trial is based upon the moniker and path they select, and is overseen by their respective Archvigilant. The first trial is that of Birth, and its purpose is to test a Novitiate’s ability to nurture - for the Vigilants are tasked with nurturing faith among the Mali’fenn and protecting the fauna of Fin’hesin. Like many among the Mali, Vigilants use animal companions to send letters across vast distances. Often, though not necessarily, these are birds. The task in this trial is for a Vigilant to find a baby animal of their choice and raise it as their courier, to deliver their letters, share a bond, and perform other necessary tasks. The second trial is that of Peace, and its purpose is to test a Novitiate’s intelligence and wisdom, as they must provide counsel in life and an account to Wyrvun upon death. They will select a foreign group - often another nation, settlement, or religious order - and spend time among them. Taking a book, they will learn all they can of these people and record the knowledge, testing their ability to compile information and exercise charisma. When done, the novitiate will return home and pass the book on to the Vigilants. Just as Wyrvun is regarded as the Aengul of Wisdom, so too do the Vigilants aspire to wisdom, and that cannot be gained without knowledge. The knowledge within grants the Vigilants the added benefit of serving as a threat register of the other descendants to Fin’hesin, with whose protection they are tasked. The third trial is that of War, and its purpose is to test physical prowess. In their role as protectors, Vigilants must have strength, agility, and vitality. Thus, the novitiate is sent into the wilderness with nothing. They must craft an appropriate weapon, learn to survive in the harsh lands of Fin’hesin, and return with the pelt of some of the region’s big game. These include a bear, elk, boar, snow leopard, or direwolf. The fourth trial is that of Death, and its purpose is to test a Novitiate when pushed to its brink - as only then can they understand the fate of their ancestors, their god, and what awaits them after life. The Novitiate is tasked with bathing in a frozen lake for as long as they can. In time, the cold will take them, and they will begin to slip away. Only then will they understand the potency of the Deep Cold, and it is only on the verge of freezing that one can feel the embrace of death - the call to sleep - and still recover. When the Novitiate passes out, they will be pulled from the water, and made to relate their experiences on the brink. Before the fifth and final trial, a Novitiate is to choose a path - Birth, Peace, War, or Death. From the wayshrine they choose, they are to assume their moniker - a value or aspect derived from their wayshrine, and define it. Depending on which moniker they choose, their new Archvigilant will provide them with a trial to test that specific virtue, for by taking it as a moniker they are tasked with embodying it. Upon the completion of this trial, the Novitiate will ascend to full Vigilance. Roles The roles of the Vigilants are numerous, from ceremony and counsel to secret ritual. As guides of the faithful, it is the duty of Vigilants to teach the Snow Elves of Isvinity - from Wyrvun and the realms to behaviors and the processes of worship. Further, however, some may try to spread Isvinity to others who dwell within Fin’hesin, for their worship of foreign gods in Wyrvun’s land is unacceptable, and their spirits shall be held by Wyrvun regardless. Conversions of those outside of Fin’hesin - devotees of the winter season - are also not unheard of. In these capacities of teaching, they are also to provide counsel to those seeking their wisdom, particularly in relation to their moniker - upon whose value they are the authority. In relation to the public, Vigilants also preside over ceremonies and aid in the process of offerings. Outside of public view, they are accorded tasks of their own. One of the primary missions of a Vigilant is to guard and maintain the wayshrines, particularly that whose path they follow. Their attachment to Wyrvun sees them make offerings more than the typical Snow Elf. In regards to the replenishment of their ranks, a Vigilant may also be tasked with overseeing the trials of a novitiate. Lastly, the Vigilants serve as the ever-watchful protectors of Fin’hesin and servants of Wyrvun. In the former task, they scout and guard the lands of Fin’hesin, seeking to purge the region of evil deific creatures, the influences of foreign gods, and the chaotic forces of the void - thus placing Vigilants in opposition to deific and voidal practitioners of magic alike. Further, they engage in divination - a process through which signs are interpreted as messages from Wyrvun. From the weather, they draw broad implications, while from dreams come visions of a more personal scope. The final duties of the Vigilants are Cleansing and Blooding - the latter being a secret, sacred ritual. Though a Vigilant may perform any of these tasks, the different Paths hold primary responsibility for many of them. Path of Birth The primary responsibilities of the Path of Birth are that of charity, purity, pilgrimages, births, comings of age, marriages, and Cleansings. To be a Vigilant upon the Path of Birth is to nurture and treasure life. Vigilants of this strain often perform acts of charity. Further, they pay special attention to the sick, and often the Archvigilant of Birth will ensure offering fire from the Wayshrine of Birth is transferred to the hearths of the ill. Encouragement and guidance for those intending on pilgrimage also falls to Birth, for their Wayshrine is the first step on this path. Vigilants of Birth often preside over the ceremonies of birth, coming of age, and marriages - along with the ritual of Cleansing. Lastly, they are charged with the maintenance and protection of the Wayshrine of Birth. Path of Peace The primary responsibilities of the Path of Peace are that of teaching, spreading Isvinity, keeping knowledge, and counseling. Vigilants of Peace are keen to teach the faithful of Isvinity’s tenets, informing them of religious doctrine, beliefs, how to conduct offerings, and other facts central to the faith. In this capacity, they often serve as counselors. Many faithful take their problems to the Vigilants for consultation, and it is typically Vigilants of Peace that leap at the opportunity to guide. In addition, Vigilants of this path serve as the keepers of the Vigilants’ knowledge - their written works held sacred due to the rarity of ancient writings among the ‘fenn. Lastly, Vigilants of this path seek to prosthelytize. The conversion of settlers upon Fin’hesin is a long-held goal, and some even seek converts among devotees of the winter season within Fin’mirak - far outside of Fin’hesin. Lastly, they are charged with the maintenance and protection of the Wayshrine of Peace. Path of War The primary responsibilities of the Path of War are the physical protection of Fin’hesin, the fighting of monsters and mages, oaths, Stormcalling, and Battlepainting. Vigilants of War are the militant arm of Isvinity. Though this is not exclusive to them, it is their speciality. They seek to root out evil, foreign deities, and voidal influence upon the lands of Fin’hesin. Many wield weapons of thanhium, which obstructs voidal mages. In addition to these duties, they oversee oaths and the ceremonies of Stormcalling and Battlepainting. Lastly, they are charged with the maintenance and protection of the Wayshrine of War. Path of Death The primary responsibilities of the Path of Death are keeping the dead, funerals, divination, and Blooding. Vigilants of Death serve as the most mystical side of Isvinity. Often, they pass their time in meditation upon the dead, whom they are charged to protect within the crypts. They preside over the funeral ceremony and the Blooding ritual. Further, divination falls to the Path of Death, for these Vigilants bridge the link between Fin’ciwn and Fin’cuith - lending them particular insight in interpreting Wyrvun’s signs. Lastly, they are charged with the maintenance and protection of the Wayshrine of Death. Conclave Conclave is the gathering of all Vigilants, held in the crypts before the Wayshrine of Death. It occurs both on a periodic basis and as-needed, called by the Archvigilants and signaled by two blasts from the Voice of Isvin. In Conclave, the Vigilants may cover a number of topics. Changes to the hierarchy are a common one - with introductions given to new Vigilants and new Archvigilants, and the passing of relics and duties from the old to the new. Further, they catch up on recent happenings - past ceremonies and current events among them. Additionally, they plan for such events, planning and assigning Vigilants to attend upcoming ceremonies and festivals. One of their most important tasks in Conclave is to monitor the wellbeing of Wayshrines, Fin’hesin, and the state of the Isvin faith. Perhaps their most conflictive role, however, is the debate of religious doctrine and politics. It is in Conclave that official stances of the Vigilants on proper beliefs and conduct are established. Further, it is in Conclave that the intersection of religion and politics is discussed. While the Vigilants may hold opinions on what should and should not be law, and on what political course their state should pursue, such decisions fall to the prince and his council. The High Vigilant has a place upon this council, and so it is through Conclave that the High Vigilant’s stances and requests upon the council are often determined. Beyond these periodic meetings, and perhaps most importantly, Conclave may be called for crises and emergencies. A corruption of Fin’hesin, war, or an uptick in combative encounters with beasts or mages may warrant a Conclave to chart a course of action. Divination Divination stems from two sources - the weather and dreams. Just as Wyrvun rules of Fin’hesin and the Deep Cold, so can he shape it to make known his will. Manifestations with broad implications occur in the weather. Further, as Aengul of Sleep, he holds influence over dreams - though such meanings are often personal and thus more limited in scope. Weather Divination Shooting stars and meteor showers are thought to be the reflection of a soul returning from Fin’ciwn to Fin’cuith, as the light of the moon plays against the lakes of the land and mirrors the journey into the night sky. The polar light display known as elanah'sul is considered to be the opposite: a stream of souls making the journey from Fin’cuith to Fin’ciwn. Comets are often seen as omens of significant change, acting as a sign of drastic alterations to the status quo. Due to the rarity of these events, sky gazers will not often focus their attention on searching for this rare phenomenon, but rather allow it to be noticed by coincidence. The nature of this change will often be up to interpretation as to whether this change is one to be feared, such as the Cataclysms. The Mali'fenn are often viewed as isolationists, even by Wyrvun himself. Because of this they often find themselves forced into a defensive position within their home. Blizzards are often believed to be an extension of Wyrvun's influence in Fin'hesin, designed to mitigate the strength of the threat. Most likely these threats are mortal in nature, but on occasion it can be interpreted that these blizzards are to drive out insidious foes of the supernatural kind. In contrast to the battering nature of a blizzard, a soft snowfall will often be viewed as a common blessing for the Fennic people. A sign of good faith and the prosperity of things to come is often what is associated with freshly lain blankets of snow. Thundersnow is a rare occurrence where, despite the freezing climate, thunder and lightning still occur. This is seen as unintentional backlash by Wyrvun as he engages in some form of divine conflict - defending Fin’ciwn from divine interlopers. Due to his connection to Fin'hesin, his interactions with other divine beings can spill out, causing phenomena such as thundersnow. Seeing how Wyrvun often uses Fin'hesin as a way to communicate with the Mali'fenn, it stands to reason that he would offer his distaste and anger through it as well. Hail is often a sign of this anger, and with it can predict poor harvests and livestock troubles. While there are many reasons as to why Wyrvun might be angry, it is undebated as to the fact that hail is meant to act as a form of punishment for the Mali'fenn. Sunny skies and warm weather often spell troubling times for Wyrvun as his lack of strength echoes through the warmer weather. When these times occur it can be expected that Wyrvun will be unable to lend any assistance for quite some time, at least not until his strength has returned. A red sky is one of the rarest phenomena to occur in Fin'hesin and often spells troubling times ahead. Most often it is a sign that blood will be spilled in the days to come, but often it is hard to tell if the blood will be Fennic in nature or foreign. A red sky can frequently be associated with a coming battle or a treachery that has occured. Rainbows are a beautiful sight to see in the northern lands, and as such forecast peaceful times to come. This peace can be felt in either the weather, in politics, inside oneself, or even domestically. Sometimes this omen can be for all of the Mali'fenn, or sometimes it is to be interpreted as a sign for a single individual. Similar to hail, Wyrvun can show his pride in his followers' actions by presenting them with a moon halo, a sign of plentiful harvests and good health. The grace of the moon halo will last for many months as the crops reach maturity and harvests begin. Often celebrations and festivals will follow quickly behind a moon halo in order to capitalize on the good will of Wyrvun. Sustained winds blowing in from the north suggest the coming of a harsh winter with much sickness, whereas winds coming from the south indicate a warm and uneventful summer; winds from the east suggest a wet, rainy spring, and winds from the west assure a mild autumn with bountiful harvests. Dream Divination As Wyrvun guards the entrance to eternal slumber it makes sense that he would speak to his chosen people through their dreams, offering guidance for his followers. Due to the nature of dreams, however, his messages can come across jumbled, twisted by the imaginative creativity found within them. Despite this, there are many constants that can be found across all dreams from Wyrvun. These constants hold significant meaning to the Fennic people, which can be judged by a Vigilant in order to interpret the intended message. The Weaver, often seen working on a grand tapestry or draped in a funeral shroud, represents the beginning of a new cycle and the clarity of leaving unnecessary tribulations behind, or that one may soon be faced with an important decision involving great risk. Her appearance may also suggest that by disregarding the repercussions of their actions, a person may soon find themselves in danger. She also serves as a caution that one should be aware of the people around them, as to not be taken advantage of, for something may soon prove too good to be true. The Messenger, depicted by a late loved one or monarch, signifies a need for deeper intuition to see through the dark and unknown paths laid before oneself. He typically represents a vital piece of information that is yet to reveal itself, whether due to uncertainty, deviousness, a misunderstanding, or a truth one cannot admit to themselves. His appearance may also suggest that one is being pulled down by a projection of their fears, dormant insecurities, or the resurfacing of repressed emotions. The White Bear represents the need to turn away from materialism and focus on spiritual growth, and the introspective consideration of one’s own motivations, values, and principles. They tend to appear as a spiritual mentor to guide one’s consciousness and teach them how to find their answers within themselves. The White Bear may also suggest a struggle with one's faith, unwelcome isolation, or that one may be ready to explore an interpersonal reconnection. The Wolves signify one's connection with their dignity, sensuality, fertility, creative expression, and ability to nurture, as well as their security, comfort, and practicality. The lone wolf suggests the birth of new ideas, reaping what one has sown, and the stability needed to manifest and grow; a pack of wolves represents an abundance of strong relationships, love without restraint, and coming pregnancy or births; the direwolf urges that one may need to venture out into nature to reconnect with their personal self after a time of neglect. The Snowy Owl symbolizes that life is in a constant state of change; his appearance suggests a sudden increase in love, resources, or unexpected benefits, as well as breakthroughs in negative situations or the end of a harmful cycle. The owl may also appear during times of great control and stability as a cue that factors outside of one’s control are influencing their situation. The Dragon signifies conscious connections, meaningful relationships, open communication, and raw honesty. When the dragon soars into one’s dreamscape, it suggests that they may be out of sync with the people around them, or that they are ignoring responsibilities which have thrust hard choices upon them. The dragon signifies being at war with oneself, and to rectify this, one must be open and clear about their values and beliefs. They must decide what they stand for and work to unite against those who would challenge their philosophy and morals. The Comet, whether soaring across open sky or in a reflection of a lake, brings with it the revelation that unforeseen danger is coming, out of one’s control and impossible to avoid. It serves as a catalyst for sudden drastic change: upheaval, destruction, and chaos. This coming event will shake a person to their core and affect them spiritually, mentally, and physically. On rare occasions, The Comet may also serve as an indication of spiritual awakening or revelation, but only if one can make a massive transformation before reaching the point that change is the only option. The North Star is generally seen as a positive omen, symbolizing endless possibilities and one’s hope for the future. Those who glimpse this celestial body should be prepared to follow their dreams and aspirations, inspired and hopeful, while being wary of potential red flags. The North Star may also signify the need to open oneself towards the healing of old wounds and neglect. The Sword and The Shield represent justice, fairness, truth, and the law. To see them suggests that one is being called to account for their actions and will be judged accordingly. One may also be met with the pair when they need to make an important choice that has the potential for long-term repercussions; one should be aware of the impact their decisions will have on their well-being and the well-being of others. Similarly, The Sword and Shield may also represent that one is unwilling to take accountability for their actions, and serves as a reminder that the consequences will weigh on their conscience until they acknowledge these faults. Deep Slumber signifies a complete, painful severance between the past and future and a need to release unhealthy attachments. It may also suggest the coming of a painful transformative change or ending of a major phase in life. One who finds themselves facing their own sleeping visage must be ready to close one door to open another, put the past behind them, and be ready to embrace new opportunities. Less commonly, this vision may represent the massive personal transformation that one is going through, and one is urged to embrace this change rather than resisting it, lest they become stuck in changeless limbo. Raging Fires symbolize willpower, determination, and strength, and suggests that now is not the time to be passive in the hope that things will work out in one’s favor. One should take focused action and stick to their course, no matter what challenges come their way. Fire also represents the call for one to be assertive and courageous, bold in their expression and firm in their boundaries. Cleansing Cleansing is a ritual by which the Vigilants seek to purge Fin’hesin of corruption, foreign gods, and voidal chaos. The Vigilants assemble at the Wayshrine of Birth for this task. There, they make offerings, and the Archvigilant of Birth appeals to Wyrvun for the cleansing of their land. Thereafter, the Archvigilant of Birth wields the Breath of Isvin, drawing flames from the offering fire. From this lantern, other vessels are lit, and the Vigilants fan out across Fin’hesin - spreading fire through the use of controlled burns. Through the offerings of Birth, the land is born anew - purged of undesirable influences. These controlled burns have the added benefit of preventing wildfires - a not uncommon occurrence in summertime Fin’hesin, despite the region’s permanent snow. Blooding Blooding is a dark, secret, and dangerous ritual that is periodically performed. Known only to the Vigilants, it is an act of self-sacrifice, and its goal is to imbue Wyrvun with strength. Since Wyrvun’s fall and redemption, he remains weak - recovering among the dead in Fin’ciwn. After his conflict with Iblees, and on account of his distrust of other Aengudaemon, the ritual is done in secret - for it is thought Wyrvun would not wish for rivals to know of his returning strength, lest they grow envious and feel threatened. To perform this act, the Vigilants gather at the Wayshrine of Death, for in his weakness Wyrvun is counted among them. There, they cut their skin and heavily bleed themselves over the offering fire, giving rise to the myriad of scars emblematic of a Vigilant. Through this act, they restore strength and life to Wyrvun. ______________________________________________________________________ Joining the Vigilants Prospective Vigilants from across Almaris make their way to Ikur'fiyem in the Fennic Remnants, that bastion of Wyrvun's devotees and center of Isvinity. There, they may find the guidance that they seek, and embark on the long path to Vigilance.

Trial 1: BIRTH It had been long since the green-eyed elf had to care for another living creature. Nonetheless, his devotion to Wyrvun was deep and unwavering. No task was beyond Krenanteon if it meant an ascension in his divinity, a closer relation to the deity that had, in his eyes, brought the snow elves to a purity beyond compare. This was his chance to lead as a religious example, to preach the righteous path as Wyrvun truly intended. So he would set forth on this path, venturing into the wilderness with virtue and purpose to find a hatchling he could raise as his own. - The sun rose and fell in cycles, but no sign of new life nor cry of foster could be heard, nothing but the chilled familiar air of his native Fenn. Until a new perception emerged, another that was familiar to him; the putrid, rotting stench of a corpse. The rot was fresh, from what he could tell. While it could not be farther from what he was looking for, this Stolt was a man of medicine and science, and a body recently expired was a body to be researched. - To his surprise, he was not the first to find it. Beside the form of an ‘ame, unsuited to the harsh nature of Fenn, loomed a large vulture and its chick. The mother, scavenging for food, took what flesh it could from the body and flew off, gliding away into the frosty mist, leaving behind the young bird. Kren moved slowly towards, and bundled it in his arms “...a sign from Wyrvun.” He nodded. “You shall be Enoch.” Trial 2: PEACE “Fascinating…utterly fascinating.” He whispered to himself in a giddy bewilderment. His blood pooling to his head, bringing a mild dizziness to his gaze as he hung inverted from a large tree, watching two ‘ame bickering wildly down beneath him. Clutching his journal tightly as not to drop it, he did his best to jot down a few scribbles, the quill functioning poorly upside down. Raised voices echoed up the tree as their exaggerated banter caused the branches to tremble. He wrote down every movement, every flinch, every non-lexical utterance that spat from their mouths. This was exciting. This was groundbreaking. So many truths to be found, hitherto unknown to the academic world, things that the ‘ame kept close to their chest and locked away from the eyes and ears of outsiders. But his eyes and ears were hidden, immersed in heavy foliage to finally witness the ‘ame world with candid intent. Truth will out. All that remained was a title for its publication. Something meaningful, something that would captivate the minds of the people. “...Beneath..the Bark.” he uttered quietly. Trial 3: WAR The amber light of the dawn glistened upon the fresh snow blanketed before him as he followed the trail of paw marks through the forest. Leading to a small valley that lay below an icy cavern, he rummaged through his satchel until he withdrew an odd egg, bespeckled in a pale green. Cracking it and setting it upon the snow, he retreated to a nearby bushel. The aroma began to drift and the tall Mali’Fenn waited, arrow nocked. Patiently he sat, until a flicker of black spots moved out from the cave. The leopard slowly descended, following the scent that the egg let off. As it reached the egg and began to investigate, Kren slowly raised himself, bowstring stretched. His emerald eye fixed upon the snow leopard’s head, he let loose the arrow. It sank into the cat’s skull with swift precision and a cry from the beast. Dying, the feline looked up to its killer and charged with fury. As Kren looked on in terror, it leaped viciously, clenching its jaws upon his leg in its final seconds of vitality. Knocked aback, he looked down at the lifeless creature in relief before uttering a few words to Wyrvun and removing its pelt. Trial 4: DEATH The last rays of the sun's light crested over the mountain tops as the chill of the frosted lake creeped up his legs, into his chest. Wyrvun’s judgement lay upon him, and no weakness could be shown. He was a man of strong will, and standing before the gates of Fin’ciwn, he would prove his zeal. As the cold gripped his flesh, his mind fought against it, determined to hold onto consciousness for as long as his mortal vessel would enable. Long after the last licks of light faded beyond the horizon, and the pale moon took its place in the sky, reflecting upon the dark pool, the tall elf began to fade into darkness. His blood slowed and his body numb, he finally succumbed to the cold, collapsing into the icy deep. An impalpable mist of white thrashed about him. Nothing could be seen but pale silhouettes passing within the violent torrent of snow. A single figure approached, and from the blizzard a message resounded, as if the winds whirled in accordance to its words. “One man’s life or death were but a small price to pay for the acquirement of knowledge which I sought, for the dominion I should acquire.” He awoke a concerning amount of time later, next to the fire. Trial 5: RESOLVE A deep forgotten tincture, a remnant wisp of the heretical magics performed upon her lay dormant beneath her skin. To be healed by such a corrupted force was, in itself, a terrible crime against the gift that had been bestowed upon us. But to leave such a taint would be to insult Wyrvun himself. To besmirch his name each and every day it remains. For any Fenn, this would be unforgivable. For an Archvigilant, it could not be allowed. There was only one thing for it, to be cut out, root and stem. Deep within the earth, away from the sun and the snow, away from the eyes and words of men of lesser wills, Kren gazed at the ornate blade in his hand. Inset with red stones, it was sharper than any scalpel he possessed. It was a blade of not surgical, but religious, intent. Thus, the intent of the surgeon must be the same. He wished no ill will upon her, but the sin must be cast out. Where the body had been healed with blasphemous sorcery, he would unheal with Wyrvunic intent. Her suffering would be but a small cost for the salvation that would be achieved. VIGILANCE The blade, dripping with the blood of renewal, laid beside Krenanteon as he kneeled upon the frigid stone. Deep cuts lined Kindrel’s cheek. She stood before him in atonement, bearing witness. There, amidst the entombed bodies of Fenn’s past, he swore his moniker. “When measure fails and fights devolve, Where meek men pause, my soul absolves. ‘Pon fervor only, conflicts solve. In end I triumph, through cruel resolve.” Thus rises the Vigilant of Resolve.

From their perches atop the withering foliage, the caws of crows sound off stone and dirt, echoing through Ikur’fiyem. Autumn had arrived, and even in Fin’hesin, that land of stout winter, did life wither. Green turned to orange, orange to brown, and brown to nothing. Brisk winds from the north chilled to the bone; a harbinger of what was to come - for following autumn would be winter, and the winter of Fin’hesin was a deep, lifeless freeze. And so, while they could, fauna and ‘fenn alike scavenged the lands, picking them bare in preparation for their hibernation. Those who failed to secure their resources before the deep freeze would wither away and perish in Wyrvun’s frigid breath. It was a time for competition; a time for war. And so, among the faithful of Isvinity, word was spread of the impending Equinox of War - to be held at the very height of autumn. “Hark! Mali’fenn - As faith demands, and tradition encourages, we will celebrate the Equinox of War - a time for you to help our Remnants gather food in preparation for winter’s hibernation, and prove your martial strength. We shall hold a hunt, whereby the individual to collect the most pelts will be awarded the title Ihnsil’fenn. Thereafter, come and feast in the tavern, and listen to stories of martial prowess. Further, a melee tournament shall be held, and the winner crowned Wyrvun’s Champion. They shall be granted a professionally forged weapon, and may ask one thing of their prince - to be delivered so long as it is within both power and reason.” _______________________________________________________________________________ [[OOC]] The hunt will be held this Saturday at 7pm EST, to be followed by a feast in the tavern. The winner of the hunt will be determined by a rolling system, and will receive: -The title “Ihnsil’fenn” -A free bust sketched by the very talented @JJosey The melee tournament will be held this Sunday at 7pm EST, and is open only to citizens of the Remnants (though spectators are welcome). The rules are as followers: -No leaving the arena -No ranged weapons -No mounts The winner of the melee tournament will receive: -The title “Wyrvun’s Champion” -A custom RP weapon -The ability to ask one thing of the prince, to be granted so long as it is within power and reason _______________________________________________________________________________ Tournament Sign-up Please respond to this thread with the following information MC Username: RP Name:

[!] A white goose can be seen flying across the lands of Almaris, dropping a missive wherever it may land as it seeks to spread word as far as possible. A number of specially addressed invitations would be sent to royals and leaders of respected groups and nations. “Lliran, the time has come, as it always does, for a show of strength to be held. I’ll keep this short since I know many have limited literacy skills. A tournament will be held within the Fennic Remnants to decide a champion of combat. As I imagine I’m sure many reading this have participated in similar events, this one like many others will be fists only with no armor advantages. I call to the sellswords and bandits, the guards and soldiers of Almaris, to come and prove their strength for honor, glory, and a two hundred mina prize.” - Arevthor Tathvir [!] Accompanying the missive is a number of extra sheets to be used for an application into the tournament itself. OOC: Tourney will be held on 7/8/21, starting around 8 pm EST or once enough participants are gathered, Applications will be closed at 6pm EST to give organization time Application Link: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScL2VlMwxiIAJnC45ZlMGTx0UlvPX7nRCiCJ5qu6YD3P3l8GQ/viewform?usp=sf_link

Stone walls loom in the north. Cold winds howl, beating against the ramparts with a frigid ferocity, only to be rolled back like the tide. Through a dense fog, the faded dance of flames; Ikur’fiyem stands as an oasis in a sea of frozen white. Though wooden cranes loom above the walled settlement, for the first time in years, they grow idle - their work all but complete. Beneath gates of steel and stone stream settlers. Though their environment proves harsh, a rare optimism reigns among them. The Fennic Remnants stand together - the culmination of a decade of politics and labor. Now, they have come to turn houses into homes. There was much work to be done. _________________________________ OOC: Hello everyone, the Fennic Remnants settlement is complete! To pay a visit, go to north hub and follow the signs! Heading south on the road from the hub, you should turn right (west), and then turn right again (northwest) very shortly afterwards towards a tunnel. That path should take you right there, through three separate tunnels! If you arrive at what looks like a dead end in the first tunnel, there’s a double ladder on the wooden scaffolding. Special thanks to @Space_Solstice for the video, and to @JJosey and the other builders for their hard work on the city!

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇 Kept quiet by her own thoughts, the moment that follows Vytrek’s request is stiflingly silent. A scene on the edge of upset, emotions stood upon a precipice. It weighs on her, drags along the length of sternum, feeling for the lines of her ribcage and threatening to break the surface. What would be exposed then, she wonders? What grotesque imagery? What secrets? It’s hard to imagine she was ever innocent before this, but girls become women when they feed on enough grief — nevermind when they gorge on it. And yet... for all the weight of the world that presses against her, she finds some semblance of hope, here, with him. Their friendship a strange one, and what she knows is that at the end of the day her devotion to him is stronger and wilder than they place they call home. Her hands meet his own; even teetering upon the edge of fear, there is a certainty in the way fingers brush against fingers. “I will raise it,” she agrees, wrestling the whelp from his gauntleted grip and into the crook of an elbow. “Let my trials commence.” 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 "The world is a hard and violent place, my friend, why should I be the same?" This cathedral of tongue and teeth, this golden swivel of language that makes the world revolve around her. She imagines his accusation should frighten her — that the curl of his mouth and the thick tenor of his summertude should inspire trepidation. Flowers may be beautiful but how many times have they been left at the feet of dead things? How many tombs have they grown from? How many wars have they begun? She looks to her hand, and his hand, and his wound. Smiles, in a way that's convincing, wrist twisting just slightly to free itself from his clutches. Pupils quiet — imbued with a clouded and far-off question, deluged by disappointment. "A little kindness does not make one a trickster, and I believe my acting is quite poor." A smile to paint her voice into a swan-winged picture. A smile that blossoms into a laugh, a mock performance for his eyes alone. "Quite poor, wouldn't you agree?" 𝐖𝐀𝐑 Compassion curls. It unfolds, burgeoning. It blooms half-wild: tempestuous, thorned, petals embryonic with concern. Leagues is she from Amaethea and yet its summer sympathies remain rooted in the heart of her. Around warrior and fallen stag frigidity undulates against half-fallen trees and howls across the dying grass. For years they've prophesized winter, and now that she finds herself shivering under its gnashing teeth, she longs for warmth. But the world is too wild for that now and she too far from home. And besides: there is more purpose here than in the frivolity of her wants. Her grey gaze assesses the wounds of the fallen stag, contemplative. Grief crescendos in the space between them. Writhing, war-wept, memories hanging by threads. Even now, the stories feel more like rotted things, broken and bog marrowed. Even now, all these years later, she can detail the moment she knew her life for forfeit; remembers the way her spine caved and her heart broke as she bled those men in the ruins of her home. She cannot bring herself to sink steel into the soft of another neck — because her world is jarring enough without adding one more wreckage to the mist. In this deluge of death, she remains hunched: a loyal hound awaiting the final vapours of breath. 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 His question comes as a rending snap, abrupt in the hush of the afternoon. Remote, yet swollen with life, with the voices of the smallfolk who lied beyond the patterned hills. She has heard the tales: how his arrival on the battlefield was a palindrome promise — raw war. How at the mere sight of him enemies weltered in the corroded iron of their blood-curdled screams. How intimate violence can be. "What troubles you?" She holds courtesy between her teeth, the weight of a crown against her tongue. Whatever it is that ails her, she holds her secrets to her breast like a mother that fears for the fragile livelihood of her children. She wants to explain that she thinks there’s something disturbing inside of her, an anomaly that swells with each eerie grey light of the moon. An odd piece of identity like the tide ebbing, eroding at the structure of her soul. As she slips beneath the numbing waters of the lake, she is confronted with a dizzying realization: she will no longer be able to save everyone. Death is inevitable, it is that lone torchlight burning continuously in the dark. Beckoning, reminding her that this all is temporary. Her skeleton is on lease, her pink slippery organs are rented by the day, by the minute. From this day forwards, her mind the weapon, her body the finality. 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 A ghost of her own making, she pulls herself forward — clutches at the frayed fabric of reality and resolves to hold on. She can’t quite shake the cold. It nibbles at her viscera, gluttonous. It roves across the length of her spine. There’s a taste like death on the air and it’s begun to pluck at her senses; it’s wiggled down beneath the north-worn thick of her skin and is feeding on the muscle below. The idea of forsaking yourself for something like that? It’s venerable. Her teeth tighten as she holds a hand to the wound that’s hindering her - by itself, it’s survivable. But here? In this cold, in this dark, in this bleak essence of winter? It’s worse. Her hand scrabbles over the stone of the path as she pulls herself a little higher, though her knees struggle to support the weight. Even now, for all the chill that gnashes jowls over the bones of her fingers and the slopes of her shoulders she is resilient. Heat blooms where claws minced fur and flesh but it feels second-hand to the certainty that hangs in the air: you will suffer so others need not. 𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 The northern frost biting at skin bared against it. The twisting turmoil of a primordial power within a body that no longer belongs wholly to her. Rebirth, rebirth, rebirth. "In coldest winter, and deepest ice, When struggles mount and yield entice, To save them all I pay the price, Their burdens now my sacrifice." Thus rises the Vigilant of Sacrifice.