Regisfall

The wound no longer bleeds. That is what the healers say, and I believe them. The flesh has closed, the bone has knit, the breath comes without pain if I respect its limits. By all outward measures, I am alive in the way the living are meant to be. Something else remains. I notice it in quiet momen...

OOC Foreword The entries collected here are private journal writings of Elion Miradove. They are not letters, proclamations, or official records, and they are not known to exist in-character. No player character is assumed to have read them, discovered them, or heard their contents unless explicitl...

From the hand of Thalyn Oakshade, Law Bringer of the Valiant Shield, Arandor To Virellen Tharandor, Voice of Matriarch Ilserae of House Carwynn, Your words, and the regard with which they are written, are received. I understand well the care that guides your counsel, and the wish to shield both our...

From the hand of Thalyn Oakshade, Law Bringer of the Valiant Shield, Arandor To Virellen Tharandor, On behalf of Matriarch Ilserae Carwynn of Cael’thorn, Your words have reached me, and I answer as the last who yet keeps the name of Oakshade within Arandor. I must confess at the outset: I have not ...

To all who dwell within the borders of Arandor, and to any who may seek entry from beyond: By direct order of Her Majesty, Queen Ninvere Lanreci, and with full authority granted to the Office of the Magistrate: Arandor has formally entered a period of mourning. We grieve the loss of one who stood as...

“You Are Being Corrected. Quietly.” By Elion Miradove, Poet-Sage of the Harmoniums Muse, Amateur Craftsman (Briefly), and Unofficial Huff Anthropologist Hill Elves do not raise their voices. They do not point, gesture wildly, or lecture at length. They simply exhale—and the world corrects itself. T...

A Guide to Pairing, Parents, and the Perils of Getting Along with Hill Elves by Elion Miradove, Poet-Sage of the Harmonious Muse Survivor of One Thistlebrook Courtship On the Nature of Pairing Elven pairing is rarely swift. It is the slow turn of a season, the patient growth of root and bloom, and ...

From the Field Guide to Things That Nearly Killed Me Let me begin by saying that Veldrin Naenala and I are the same height. Exactly. Down to the inch. Five-foot-three of unimpressed stares and withering silence. I want that known—because what follows may sound like the bitter rant of someone belitt...

Chapter I: Of Scales and Sanity – Entering Wyrmwood Wyrmwood is not so much a forest as it is an ancient argument between earth and fire, whispered through roots and echoed from the stone. Nestled in a hidden valley bordered by impassable peaks, this emerald labyrinth teems with creatures older tha...

or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept the Seventh Course By Elion Miradove Poet-Sage of the Harmonious Muse Master of the Polite Decline, Kept Chewing and lost consciousness, Once Felled by a Single Stew Pot There are many trials one must endure in this life. Love. War. Trying to explain to...