| The World of Teréth End - Chronicles - Othic |
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"Too often days swiftly pass / Weeping in the evening grass / There just is not enough time / Forthings you dreamt you'd do / The hours still drift by. "Too many years, too high a cost / Too many lessons earned but lost / And still you complain all the time / Cursing the days before you / Lamentng the days gone by. "And finally laying in your bed / Staring skyward, nearly dead / It all floods back one last time, / The chances that you left behind / But alas there's little left to do / ... but cry." Dirimoran song  |
Child of the Sun The following two sessions describe the four month "winter's quest" of Mishara Silverpoint in his trek to find the northern Elve city of Nazhalyr and the master Nekrule archer Illydphryl Nyllyraz. Alone in the woods along a familiar stretch between the Two Brothers and the Human town of Loston, Mishara Silverpoint shivered as he walked. It had been sometime since the Elve had traveled alone and it felt good to be back among the trees and the natural earth, even if the route was a wagon-rutted road. In three complete turns of the blue moon he hoped to return to Oth with a successful journey behind him, but all that was layed before him now. By midday, Mishara entered Loston, a large Human settlement upon the eastern shore of the woodland lake, Nularya Lun. There weren't quite as many people in the roads that past between the plowed anf stone-fenced fields for the harvests were finished and the people were settling-in for seasonsrest. Mishara found a small store and purchased a heavy traveling cloak, some wool clothes, and a few rations for his journey before continuing. Exiting the town, Mishara opted to leave the Human road, venturing into the protective confines of the old forest. The Anahlan moved swiftly through the cold and leafless wood, stopping briefly at streamsides and hilltops to gather his bearings. On the third day of his travels the trees grew more sparse and tall weeds grew in the spaces where the sunlight reached the forest floor. Beyond the trees reached the Scarred Wastes, a tortured lifeless land that borders the bay to the north. Mishara chose to avoid the region, skirting its border to the south and west. By the end of the next day, the immortal traveler rested in the high limbs of a ancient tree overlooking a strange Human village on the western edge of the Scarred Wastes. Avarlin came into view through the morning fog, sitting on the opposite shore of the wide Telabra Run. Mishara thought better of attempting to cross the deep waters, and continued west to find the ford or bridge that his memory described. By the day's end, he reached the Run Eldgoth, another major tributary feeding the Telabra from the south. Dissapointed by this setback in his journey he prepared the night's camp. Across the plains he noticed three centauroid figures watching from afar. He couldn't be sure that they saw him, but rest warily that night. The next day he followed the Eldgoth shore south along the western border of the Telabra Plain. He stopped briefly in the late morning to examine the half-buried Human ruins of war. After long examination he determined that the bladed machine must have been used to mow enemy troops upon the plain. Leaving the strange blades he continued through a scarred and ancient landscape until he met a Nekrule guardian standing along the river's shore. He learned from the sentinel that the area on which he stood was sacred to the Elve, for a battle had happened here and many Elve had shed their blood and lives. The sixth guardian of Cladth Eldgoth. The Nekrule told Mishara that to reach Avarlin he should returned to the far shore of the Run Telabra and set a fire. Someone would arrive to ferry him across. On the night of the seventh day, Mishara made a signal fire along the south shore of the Run Telabra. Within hours a Human rowed into view and for a few silver agreed to carry the Elve to the borderland town. Arriving at the docks, Mishara climbed from the boat and sought out the comforts of the Theswur Scaradaril he'd visited early in Druur. Within the warmth of the place he spoke with other Anahlans about his intentions to travel to Nazhalyr. One said he would spread word that Mishara would be interested in companions on his trip. The next morning, Mishara awoke to find his cloaks were missing. Furthermore, a corded necklace of silver and polished black stone hung about his neck. Although he tried the necklace would not be removed. Frustrated and worried at how this had come to pass, he gathered his things, took an inventory of his items, and headed toward the door. Reaching for the handle he was startled by a weight landing on his back and then fading as abruptly. He heard the whispered word, "Hello" as a long black cloak fell from his shoulders, anchored to the medallion necklace. He spoke with the voice for sometime and learned that it was coming from the cloak. The cloak introduced itself as "Nessus" and explained that it was heading north too. Resigning himself to the cloak's "company", Mishara left the inn. Stepping into the cold outdoors, the cloak billowed out from behind him letting the cold air in. Mishara would learn well in the days to come, how much Nessus liked to billow. Returning the next morning, Mishara found a Grumun standing outside the Theswur. The large female creature made the otherwise normal doorway seem miniature in comparison. The Grumun asked him if his name was "Misha" (the name he'd given inside last night). When he assented, the Grumun explained that she was White-eye and that she wished company to Nazhalyr as well. Furthermore, she added, another Elve wished to join them and would be along shortly. Mishara agreed to this and left the hairy giant outside as he wandered once again into the warm confines of the Theswur. Inside he was met by Illarzur Sulvynnar, a Nekrule swordsman, a welcomed addition to most journeys. Exiting, the third Elve had arrived, an elder Anahlan who introduced himself as Cadalya Asmural. The ancient Elve bore himself about with the aid of a heavy staff dangling with baubles and faded feathers, while a sword rested across his back. White-eye hefted a giant parcel onto her back and the five left Avarlin, walking north into the uncharted Elder Woods. Days passed as the travelers marched north through the dark forest, snow drifting lightly through the umbrage of the trees above. On the second day from Avarlin they came to a clearing where small cottages stood pristine with an even blanket of white. Closer, shapes in the snow were found to be Elve cut and frozen in the village roads and doorways. White-eye noticed that the area was covered with a glow of magic, but did not mention this to her Elve companions as they searched to the town's center. Standing near a central firepit, stood an Anahlan woman in a grey winter robe. Mishara moved forward to talk with her. She introduced herself as Ezrele, last of Varalar. She told of how Humans came to the town and slaughtered its residents while she hid. Mishara offered the woman a consoling embrace and slipped the night-black cloak around her. White-eye noticed a flash of magic from the two but made no comment. Mishara staggered a moment, clutching his head, his world reeling. The woman looked at him with concern, and asked that he hold her again. He resisted, but not for long. They walked toward a nearby cottage to let him rest, but on the way he staggered twice more, his thoughts and orientation fleeing. Once inside, his cloak dropped from his body and circled the woman. Mishara saw a silhouetted hand and dagger rise in the doorway and cut down into the woman's back. The woman howled with a deep gutteral sound, slashing forward with what appeared to be a lions paw. Outside, Cadalya summoned barbs of light which streamed from his staff and fingers while Illarzur fired into the doorway with his bow. Before Mishara could produce the notched-sword Shakal, the woman was on the ground transforming back to her proper state. As the lamia reverted those outside saw the cottage roofs and walls decay to their natural ruined condition. The bodies of the slain Elve vanished as the illusion dissipated with the lamia's life. Mishara stumbled from the house clutching his head, he'd taken no damage during the encounter, but something seemed terribly wrong. The next three days the group traveled deeper into the Elder Woods. When a range of mountains appeared to the north and east, Cadalya explained that they were entering the Arduwu valley. This was the first landmark they'd seen since leaving Avarlin to show that they were heading in the correct direction. At camp that night, White-eye noticed a glow beyond distant trees. The Grumun felt wrongness from the magic and so woke her fellow travelers. After armoring and gathering their weapons, the group moved to where White-eye had directed them. Mishara shivered as he ran through the woods, his cloak having left without him. Amid the large hillocks and stones that dot the area lay the tangled body of a pale Elve. Glowing gold blood flowed from wounds in its ivory flesh. Those that looked upon it did not know immediately what the Elve might be but it soon dawned on all that they were gazing upon a dying Solara Elvarel. As they neared, vine and root-like tentacles lashed out at the party, raking the newcomers with savage thorns and barbs. Illarzur was seized by one of the ropy limbs, pulled into the air, and used as a shield against an arrow of Mishara's. The shadowy Nessus circled the two hillocks and stabbed at the rock-and-dirt mounds from the opposite side. The Grumun White-eye walked between the two things and began ripping the roots that bound the dying the Elvarel to the snowy forest floor. At this, the monsters began flaying the giant Grumun, unwilling to forfeit their gold and ivory prize. The Grumun groaned under the flailing assault and soon needed to retreat. Arrows and spells fired mercilessly into the mounds until each collapsed into a pile of dirt and stone. Nessus briefly examined the scabrous creatures within each mound, but determining that there was nothing of value within, returned to the freezing Mishara, and transformed back to a cloak. After applying bandages to its wounds, the wounded Grumun tore the last tentacle from the Elvarel's body and hefted it onto her shoulder and they returned to the campsite. Thanks to Katherine, Kyle, Steve, and Tere for their help breathing life into the NPCs! 14 Aug 1999
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Navigation People Cadalya
Asm... (Ftr5/Wiz5) Introducing The
Elder Woods: Beyond the Northwoods
lies an older forest where mortal feet rarely trod. The Dekàlan
name for the forest is Gím Dúden.
Even in gentler times when Uren and Elve of the region were not
bitter enemies, the region north of the Telabra Run has been forbidden
to mortals. Those Uren who dare venture into the trees surrounding Avarlin
are never seen again. The protection of a region is understandable
and respected among most races, but the stintedness of this denial has
sparked Uren curiousity for millennia. Natural explorers, Uren have never
felt comfortable with such a large uncharted region as a neighbor, but
so it has remained. Rivaling the Uren sense of exploration is their
imagination. Years of suspicion have fostered the belief that the
ancient forest is the source of all things evil (in addition to the Elve).
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Ref. PHB (Player's Handbook), © Wizards of the Coast  |
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