The day started with bright optimism. Sunlight shone through the leaves, dappled light dancing along the paths of the capital city as the Elves of Arandor gathered.
Faelith Thistlebrook approached the meeting point, noting the familiar face of Taanyth Nolbre already waiting. It was no surprise the fiery Shieldbearer had answered the call first. She had shown more than once her swift acceptance of danger when the call was given.
Well met
Greetings. What are we expecting during this... field trip?
Expecting? A barely thought through plan, chaos, and probably a mild disaster...
Beside her, Taanyth let out a hearty chuckle at the Lifebringer's flatly intoned words.
But the goal, if it can be accomplished, is to perform a ritual and identify the 'being' responsible for keeping Triverton's waters polluted. If they are to be believed, they have evidence it is a being causing it, not just the doings of people. And before we can stop whatever it is.. we need to find it and identify it.
Hm. Well I'll be there to safe guard our people, but I'm not sure how I feel about the denizens of that city.
I am sure how I feel about them, and it is not good. But the natural world there is of Aldarwen whether or not we like those who put up homes there. That is the only reason I agreed to this... mess.
It's admirable that you would offer your assistance despite your inclination towards these humans. I would think they would have planned everything out carefully if they're serious about this restoration.
You would think that....
As they spoke, others filtered in to join the gathering. Three were familiar faces who had been there at the initial meeting with Trivertion: Voidwalker Sylas Morn and Forestwardens Arcia and Starling. The former a Hill Elf who, true to his kind, was a man of few words when he appeared in public and the later two newcomers to Arandor who seemed to be finally adjusting in their new home. A moment later the second druid arrived, Aelion Thalaris accompanied by his steadfast bear companion. The last to arrive was one whose presence brought both surprise and hope, Oracle of Seraphiel Ynariel Thal. Surely the Mystic Veil’s rarely seen presence would be a good omen.
Ynariel smiled and gave a gentle nod to those gathered before taking a long puff from her pipe.
I hope you're all doing well- despite recent tragedies.
The party shifted, each expressing in their own way a grief born from their late Magistrate.
I see. Off to Tilverton?
Aye, I'm going to keep this jolly band safe, as is my duty.
The Oracle blew out another puff of smoke
"Beneath the mire, the old song sleeps-- if they sing true, the water will wake"
Something I read a long time ago. Perhaps it has meaning here. Stay safe. And may the Seraphiel see your return.
Under Dovaros' protection we will return unharmed.
And with that, the band of Elves departed for Triverton.
Triverton Waters Run Deep (Event Thread, all Welcome)
Re: Triverton Waters Run Deep (Event Thread, all Welcome)
The trip to Triverton was swift and upon arriving Faelith was surprised to see no Humans, but rather the quirky Elven Druid, Maez'zhvro, nibbling on a muffin and smiling widely. Seeing their arrival, he rolled up to his feet and dusted himself off.
Ah Arandor hass arrived!
As we said we would. Do we wait for Edana? Have we heard from them if they are coming?
I ssupose we can await to see if anymore wissh to aid
Aldarwen cannot do all the work.
As if on cue, Clyde Marshal, Mercenary amongst other titles he’d earned amongst the Elves, arrived. No, wait, he seemed to be sporting a new insignia since last she’d seen him. It was possible he’d aligned himself with today’s host, Triverton's Overseer Zomactelonyvarix, who was in turn next to arrive.
Good to see so many
My... condolences in this time of mourning. The news have reached us.
Putting aside her dislike for the man's practices, Faelith inclined her head by way of thanks for the sentiment. At the Overseer’s suggestion, they waited a bit longer for any stragglers.
Maybe while were waiting you elves could think up a spell for the smell as well.
heh.. I think that will solve itself once the bay is restored.
The Lifebringer held her tongue, despite thinking that Clyde's problem may simply be one of his own making that a little soap would correct. This was a diplomatic matter to some extent, and at least for now he had refrained from insulting her ilk, though after their last meeting she was not holding her breath. She distracted herself with the arrival of Mercadian Councilman Cedric Warren and their own self proclaimed princeling, Arynn Lanrcei. She was relieved to see he seemed to have learned his lesson after last time, no longer laying claim to human titles.
Well then...
Sshall we details the planss
Indeed. In our initial meeting, we determined the blight has a source, hidden deep below the waters of the bay. It could be a creature, an entity, an elemental... We don't know. Before we decide how to procceed with it, we need to find out. Therefore... today's ritual is to investigate the source's nature. Once we know what we're dealing with, then we can come up with an informed decision. I do believe this source knows of our attempt… And will try to stop it, at all costs...
That would suggest intelligence, if nothing else.
Those of us outside of the ritual will have to protect it. So that the druids can finish it.
There were murmurs and mumblings as the gathered Elves and Humans let the words sink in. Some prepared spells as they listened, buffing their allies, others comforted their furry companions. There was an air of anticipation, so many gathered for a purpose that had no guarantee of success.
If there is no protest, we can proceed.
Ah Arandor hass arrived!
As we said we would. Do we wait for Edana? Have we heard from them if they are coming?
I ssupose we can await to see if anymore wissh to aid
Aldarwen cannot do all the work.
As if on cue, Clyde Marshal, Mercenary amongst other titles he’d earned amongst the Elves, arrived. No, wait, he seemed to be sporting a new insignia since last she’d seen him. It was possible he’d aligned himself with today’s host, Triverton's Overseer Zomactelonyvarix, who was in turn next to arrive.
Good to see so many
My... condolences in this time of mourning. The news have reached us.
Putting aside her dislike for the man's practices, Faelith inclined her head by way of thanks for the sentiment. At the Overseer’s suggestion, they waited a bit longer for any stragglers.
Maybe while were waiting you elves could think up a spell for the smell as well.
heh.. I think that will solve itself once the bay is restored.
The Lifebringer held her tongue, despite thinking that Clyde's problem may simply be one of his own making that a little soap would correct. This was a diplomatic matter to some extent, and at least for now he had refrained from insulting her ilk, though after their last meeting she was not holding her breath. She distracted herself with the arrival of Mercadian Councilman Cedric Warren and their own self proclaimed princeling, Arynn Lanrcei. She was relieved to see he seemed to have learned his lesson after last time, no longer laying claim to human titles.
Well then...
Sshall we details the planss
Indeed. In our initial meeting, we determined the blight has a source, hidden deep below the waters of the bay. It could be a creature, an entity, an elemental... We don't know. Before we decide how to procceed with it, we need to find out. Therefore... today's ritual is to investigate the source's nature. Once we know what we're dealing with, then we can come up with an informed decision. I do believe this source knows of our attempt… And will try to stop it, at all costs...
That would suggest intelligence, if nothing else.
Those of us outside of the ritual will have to protect it. So that the druids can finish it.
There were murmurs and mumblings as the gathered Elves and Humans let the words sink in. Some prepared spells as they listened, buffing their allies, others comforted their furry companions. There was an air of anticipation, so many gathered for a purpose that had no guarantee of success.
If there is no protest, we can proceed.
Re: Triverton Waters Run Deep (Event Thread, all Welcome)
The adventures eventually moved to a location beneath Triverton’s streets where a system of floating rafts and walkways attached to the pier supports that held up the town over the bay. The structural integrity of the platforms seemed questionable, but it was the smell that was more concerning. Piled high with garbage, the stench of rot and refuse perfumed the air, cloying at the inside of the nose.
Faelith eyed the piles of garbage as they walked by, aiding the other druids and Zoma in finding a central position that seemed the most defensible for the ceremony. Around her, people scoped out the location for threats, spreading out around the outside of the platform. From the corner of her eye she noted Clyde downing an ale in a few gulps then tossing the bottle into the now growing pile of garbage… only to immediately hit his head on a rafter and fall off his horse. She couldn’t help the smirk that formed on her lips. Several others did their best to try not to notice the Human’s antics, or at least hid their amusement.
Maez’zhvro define the ceremonial space using a power crystal, one he set with care. Using one of his claws to prick another finger, the druid softly inscribes a rune. With Maez’zhvro taking up the position West of the crystal, Faelith took North, Aelion Thalaris moved to the East which just left South… a spot Faelith swiftly assigned to an unsure seeming Arcia. He may not be a druid, but as an Elf sword to Aldarwen, she figured his connection would suffice.
When it came time to discuss the actual workings of the ritual, Faelith was unsurprised that the finger details had not yet been worked out. Hands on her hips, she eyed the Druid and Humans who had started all of this.
I don't suppose you all have come up with a chant or spell?
Maez'zhvro showed a toothed grin to her remark and finished up the ritual token, casting blessing power over the crystal.
I must admit that I am not much for magics and the like.
Worry not … You are blessed with the gift of nature. That will guide you.
I'm not worried. I came prepared.
Faelith pulled some papers from her bag, passing them to each of the cardinal positions while all around them, their defenders prepared for battle.
As if sensing the intent of the group above, the water below Triverton began to bubble with anticipation, causing more than a few to ready their weapons.
Hmm.. There is... a disturbance....
Taking a long deep breath, Faelith put out her hands, palms up, straightened her stance. In a clear voice that projects off the wooden pillars beneath the city, she begins to chant and focus the flow within her Lyrandel onto the center point of the power crystal. Aelion Thalaris relaxes as Fealith's chant fills the air around them, focusing his energy and efforts.
We call to thee, Aldarwen, mighty Vala of the wilds.
Though who walks the verdant paths, we seek thy wisdom.
The water below pushed against the docks, shaking the floor. Starling’s arms shot out to each side catching her balance while Taanyth steadied herself against the waves and slides herself into a combat stance. These docks uhh..arnt too strong..
Show us the source of sorrow.
Reveal to us the hidden wound, the blight that festers unseen
The sound of raindrops begins beating down on the city above as Maez'zhvro settled a hand to balance on his staff ... using his other to focus energy to the token and channel roots around the druids.
Let thy breath pass on the wind, touching water and loam.
Where rot clings, let it speak; where poison hides, let it be named.
Unveil the cause, unmask the hand that wounds thy sacred realm.
The water shifts and gurgles, mud spurting upwards, Cedric eyeing it warily. Starling’s hands cover her face and she takes a half step back from the railing. Something comes! Brace yourselves!
Let no shadow foul escape thy gaze; let truth root deep within the soil.
The blight, the source, the shadow's name—let none remain unseen!
The last word of the chant rang through and then… silence. Faelith waited, focusing on feeling for signs of Aldarwen answering their call. One moment. Two.
Were good...just a few bubbles..
Faelith eyed the piles of garbage as they walked by, aiding the other druids and Zoma in finding a central position that seemed the most defensible for the ceremony. Around her, people scoped out the location for threats, spreading out around the outside of the platform. From the corner of her eye she noted Clyde downing an ale in a few gulps then tossing the bottle into the now growing pile of garbage… only to immediately hit his head on a rafter and fall off his horse. She couldn’t help the smirk that formed on her lips. Several others did their best to try not to notice the Human’s antics, or at least hid their amusement.
Maez’zhvro define the ceremonial space using a power crystal, one he set with care. Using one of his claws to prick another finger, the druid softly inscribes a rune. With Maez’zhvro taking up the position West of the crystal, Faelith took North, Aelion Thalaris moved to the East which just left South… a spot Faelith swiftly assigned to an unsure seeming Arcia. He may not be a druid, but as an Elf sword to Aldarwen, she figured his connection would suffice.
When it came time to discuss the actual workings of the ritual, Faelith was unsurprised that the finger details had not yet been worked out. Hands on her hips, she eyed the Druid and Humans who had started all of this.
I don't suppose you all have come up with a chant or spell?
Maez'zhvro showed a toothed grin to her remark and finished up the ritual token, casting blessing power over the crystal.
I must admit that I am not much for magics and the like.
Worry not … You are blessed with the gift of nature. That will guide you.
I'm not worried. I came prepared.
Faelith pulled some papers from her bag, passing them to each of the cardinal positions while all around them, their defenders prepared for battle.
As if sensing the intent of the group above, the water below Triverton began to bubble with anticipation, causing more than a few to ready their weapons.
Hmm.. There is... a disturbance....
Taking a long deep breath, Faelith put out her hands, palms up, straightened her stance. In a clear voice that projects off the wooden pillars beneath the city, she begins to chant and focus the flow within her Lyrandel onto the center point of the power crystal. Aelion Thalaris relaxes as Fealith's chant fills the air around them, focusing his energy and efforts.
We call to thee, Aldarwen, mighty Vala of the wilds.
Though who walks the verdant paths, we seek thy wisdom.
The water below pushed against the docks, shaking the floor. Starling’s arms shot out to each side catching her balance while Taanyth steadied herself against the waves and slides herself into a combat stance. These docks uhh..arnt too strong..
Show us the source of sorrow.
Reveal to us the hidden wound, the blight that festers unseen
The sound of raindrops begins beating down on the city above as Maez'zhvro settled a hand to balance on his staff ... using his other to focus energy to the token and channel roots around the druids.
Let thy breath pass on the wind, touching water and loam.
Where rot clings, let it speak; where poison hides, let it be named.
Unveil the cause, unmask the hand that wounds thy sacred realm.
The water shifts and gurgles, mud spurting upwards, Cedric eyeing it warily. Starling’s hands cover her face and she takes a half step back from the railing. Something comes! Brace yourselves!
Let no shadow foul escape thy gaze; let truth root deep within the soil.
The blight, the source, the shadow's name—let none remain unseen!
The last word of the chant rang through and then… silence. Faelith waited, focusing on feeling for signs of Aldarwen answering their call. One moment. Two.
Were good...just a few bubbles..
Last edited by AuroraWR on Tue Jul 08, 2025 10:03 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Re: Triverton Waters Run Deep (Event Thread, all Welcome)
Clyde’s words seemed to be the cue, suddenly the water bubbled and came to life as the mud below forms into the shapes of creatures. Built of a combination of water, mud, refuse, waste and magic, the perverse beings resembled some sort of elementals gone horribly wrong. The area went from still to a furry of motion as the defenders moved to intercept the monsters before they could disrupt the ceremony. Swords slashed, firebombs were lobbed, magic shot cold ice to try to freeze the beings in place. Cedric planted his legs, striking back against the onslaught while Aelion also planted his feat, trying to keep centered on the task at hand while all around him blew up in the action of battle. Next to him, Maez'zhvro grimaced, almost falling over and Faelith reached for her fellow druids, trying to help them keep standing.
Protect the ritual!
For the Queen! For Arandor!
And then through the sounds of fighting, Arcia raised his voice and the chant began anew.
We call to thee, Aldarwen, mighty Vala of the wilds.
Though who walks the verdant paths, we seek thy wisdom
Show us the source of sorrow.
Reveal to us the hidden wound, the blight that festers unseen.
Let thy breath pass on the wind, touching water and loam.
Where rot clings, let it speak; where poison hides, let it be named.
Unveil the cause, unmask the hand that wounds thy sacred realm.
Let no shadow foul escape thy gaze; let truth root deep within the soil.
The blight, the source, the shadows name. Let none remain unseen.
More waves of blighted figures crawled from the water, washing up onto the rotting boards to attack the allied force. Cederic’s shouts could be heard even as Clyde was consumed in holy healing fires. Somewhere, Arryn snuck around and lobbed another flask of fire while Sylas took a moment to use his frost to recoup some of his mana. And then, for a moment, things quieted down. Bah! Just a bunch of mud!!! Faeltih nods to her fellow druids, encouraging them to continue and with that, Aelion took up the chant.
We call to thee, Aldarwen, mighty Vala of the wilds.
Though who walks the verdant paths, we seek thy wisdom
Show us the source of sorrow.
Reveal to us the hidden wound, the blight that festers unseen.
Let thy breath pass on the wind, touching water and loam.
Where rot clings, let it speak; where poison hides, let it be named.
Unveil the cause, unmask the hand that wounds thy sacred realm.
Let no shadow foul escape thy gaze; let truth root deep within the soil.
The blight, the source, the shadows name. Let none remain unseen.
For a time the waters remained quiet, giving the adventures a brief respite to catch their breath or eat muddy bread. Taanyth spun her blades impatiently, waiting for another wave of attacks. Maez'zhvro coughing lightly and steadying himself as the ritual clearly was taking a toll. Hmm.. Too quiet… Cedric winced at the smell Eugh. Then towards the end of the chant, the water began to stir again. Forming around the docks, larger and with more strength than the last time. It is still reacting, it seems... Be on your guard.
And it was at this time when a wave of water splashed onto the docks and washed Sylas away from the group.
Uh oh.
What! Sylas?
Someone raise the fallen...
We lost one?
We will not lose him
Nature presserve us
Panic gripped Faelith, in the wake of all the losses recently she could not lose another. People searched the waters through the hoard of enemies, looking for their lost comrade, and she was a breath away from breaking the ritual to dive in after him when the Hill Elf pulled himself out of the mire and onto the boards, spitting out mud and grumbling. Faelith was a wash with relief.
Eugh…
Wonderful. Now everything tastes like actual shit.
Taanyth ruffled through her pouches and offered out a small bushel of mint to the muttering Sylas, This might help. which is took, chewed, and promptly gagged before angrily grumbling to himself, in tongues as he was caked in muck and probably shit
That helps with the smell at least..
A beer might work better. At least your robes are already brown
More waves of attackers rose, stronger each time to the point of nearly wiping the allies out. At one point the power crystal was lost within the muck and mire, pulled under the mud off the side of the dock only to be shattered, the pieces floating back up to the top. It was then that Faelith felt something tugging at the corners of her mind and her words came out a stream of thought.
This blight…
Earth magic.
Corrupted.. with man's malice.
It's magic.. corrupted magic.
Earth in nature...
But all the hate and blood spilt here.. it must have corrupted it somehow into... all this.
They still needed to locate the source of the magic, but it was a start. The ritual had worked, and the others expressed the same relief she felt. All around people gathered up the injured, tending to wounds through the strong stench that permeated every fiber of everyone’s clothing. One poor Elf hurled over the side, while Taanyth lectured Clyde on how to properly dispose of trash. They gathered their people, their solid belongings, and left the fettered space. Water elementals were summoned and impromptu showers attempted to wash away the prevailing brown and smell. One suspiciously clean Arynn attempted to eat something, only to promptly puke and Faelith couldn’t help but think despite this he’d grown.
Faeltih said a prayer to the Valar, thanking them for bringing all of their people safely, if not cleanly, home. As the mountain pass opened wide, revealing the flower laden banks of River Arandor, Sylas reminded her of the words their new Magistrate had written: We will rise because it is our burden—and our right—to shape the world we live in. Today the Elves of Arandor had risen, and she thought that Brynloris and her parents would be proud.
Protect the ritual!
For the Queen! For Arandor!
And then through the sounds of fighting, Arcia raised his voice and the chant began anew.
We call to thee, Aldarwen, mighty Vala of the wilds.
Though who walks the verdant paths, we seek thy wisdom
Show us the source of sorrow.
Reveal to us the hidden wound, the blight that festers unseen.
Let thy breath pass on the wind, touching water and loam.
Where rot clings, let it speak; where poison hides, let it be named.
Unveil the cause, unmask the hand that wounds thy sacred realm.
Let no shadow foul escape thy gaze; let truth root deep within the soil.
The blight, the source, the shadows name. Let none remain unseen.
More waves of blighted figures crawled from the water, washing up onto the rotting boards to attack the allied force. Cederic’s shouts could be heard even as Clyde was consumed in holy healing fires. Somewhere, Arryn snuck around and lobbed another flask of fire while Sylas took a moment to use his frost to recoup some of his mana. And then, for a moment, things quieted down. Bah! Just a bunch of mud!!! Faeltih nods to her fellow druids, encouraging them to continue and with that, Aelion took up the chant.
We call to thee, Aldarwen, mighty Vala of the wilds.
Though who walks the verdant paths, we seek thy wisdom
Show us the source of sorrow.
Reveal to us the hidden wound, the blight that festers unseen.
Let thy breath pass on the wind, touching water and loam.
Where rot clings, let it speak; where poison hides, let it be named.
Unveil the cause, unmask the hand that wounds thy sacred realm.
Let no shadow foul escape thy gaze; let truth root deep within the soil.
The blight, the source, the shadows name. Let none remain unseen.
For a time the waters remained quiet, giving the adventures a brief respite to catch their breath or eat muddy bread. Taanyth spun her blades impatiently, waiting for another wave of attacks. Maez'zhvro coughing lightly and steadying himself as the ritual clearly was taking a toll. Hmm.. Too quiet… Cedric winced at the smell Eugh. Then towards the end of the chant, the water began to stir again. Forming around the docks, larger and with more strength than the last time. It is still reacting, it seems... Be on your guard.
And it was at this time when a wave of water splashed onto the docks and washed Sylas away from the group.
Uh oh.
What! Sylas?
Someone raise the fallen...
We lost one?
We will not lose him
Nature presserve us
Panic gripped Faelith, in the wake of all the losses recently she could not lose another. People searched the waters through the hoard of enemies, looking for their lost comrade, and she was a breath away from breaking the ritual to dive in after him when the Hill Elf pulled himself out of the mire and onto the boards, spitting out mud and grumbling. Faelith was a wash with relief.
Eugh…
Wonderful. Now everything tastes like actual shit.
Taanyth ruffled through her pouches and offered out a small bushel of mint to the muttering Sylas, This might help. which is took, chewed, and promptly gagged before angrily grumbling to himself, in tongues as he was caked in muck and probably shit
That helps with the smell at least..
A beer might work better. At least your robes are already brown
More waves of attackers rose, stronger each time to the point of nearly wiping the allies out. At one point the power crystal was lost within the muck and mire, pulled under the mud off the side of the dock only to be shattered, the pieces floating back up to the top. It was then that Faelith felt something tugging at the corners of her mind and her words came out a stream of thought.
This blight…
Earth magic.
Corrupted.. with man's malice.
It's magic.. corrupted magic.
Earth in nature...
But all the hate and blood spilt here.. it must have corrupted it somehow into... all this.
They still needed to locate the source of the magic, but it was a start. The ritual had worked, and the others expressed the same relief she felt. All around people gathered up the injured, tending to wounds through the strong stench that permeated every fiber of everyone’s clothing. One poor Elf hurled over the side, while Taanyth lectured Clyde on how to properly dispose of trash. They gathered their people, their solid belongings, and left the fettered space. Water elementals were summoned and impromptu showers attempted to wash away the prevailing brown and smell. One suspiciously clean Arynn attempted to eat something, only to promptly puke and Faelith couldn’t help but think despite this he’d grown.
Faeltih said a prayer to the Valar, thanking them for bringing all of their people safely, if not cleanly, home. As the mountain pass opened wide, revealing the flower laden banks of River Arandor, Sylas reminded her of the words their new Magistrate had written: We will rise because it is our burden—and our right—to shape the world we live in. Today the Elves of Arandor had risen, and she thought that Brynloris and her parents would be proud.