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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) •──────────⋅☾ ☽⋅──────────•
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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.
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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:
