Race and Appearance: An elf, whose age is not charted. Some people think he is over 170 years old, but he just smiles and changes the subject gently. With hair as white as blinding snow and extremely dark skin, almost almond, no one really knows who he is.
Personality: He is called the shaman of a small village on the outskirts of Control and Chaos alike, Mireim. It is a human village, but there are a few elves in there, including Melrihm. Even though he is shaman, he does no magic, but he does know a lot about, well, everything. He is quiet, always helpful, but there are rumors and stories of when he was young, he often got very angry and liked to burn things. But, those are just, well, humors.
History: Whenever anyone asks him where he lived before this, he changes the subject. Whenever anyone asks him anything about his past before him living in Mireim, he doesn't talk about. Perhaps in times of incredible stress, he may delve into his mysterious past.
Magic User/ Commoner: He doesn't buy anything from anyone else. He lives in a small hut of the side of the town with a small farm by it. It is often self-sustainable. There are rumors of him using Creation in times of the Generation before now, and some even say that he can use both Creation and Manipulation.
Social Standing as Well as your Alliance: He says he is chaos, but most humans that know him say he is neutral, because of his extreme kindness.
Home Village: No one really knows for sure. Maybe is his stress becomes too much, he might tell someone.
Up for Love: He is a kind elf, so most would say yes. The other few simply does not know him well enough.
Other: If he were to fight in this war, it would be for the sake of his village and a certain girl in it, the barkeep, whom he treats like his grandchild.
Race and Appearance: They're twin elves they're each 127 years old and while they're hair colors and eyes are polar opposites they have the exact same body build they're tall and thin with a well developed muscular build. Alonzo has pale white hair and pale blue eyes while Oznola is the opposit with midnight black hair and deep red eyes. They also tend to wear opposite colors Alonzo wears light colors and Oznola wears dark ones.
Personality: Alonzo is a consistently happy and relaxed guy always level headed he cares little for violence and enjoys consistency. He spends most of his time reading and writing he's a scholar at heart with a passion for music. Onzola is the more war like brother he is almost always training with a plethora of weapons and cares little for his brothers scholarly habits. He's brash and tends to act with out thinking rather doing what he thinks is best for only himself and acting on whims.
History: They are descended from the original guardians of the neutral territory raised from a young age as royalty. They were taught the laws of their land and made the rulers at the tender age of 27. Alonzo and Onzola were prepared to watch over the battle known as The Conflict and be the head judges. It was their duty to select the champions and make sure it was treated fairly.
They have lived in the capital of the neutral territory their entire lives and kept out of the politics of the two warring factions. Their parents were previously selected for the duty before the twins were born. Their parents taught them precisely how to do their job and cared for them perfectly.
Magic User/ Commoner: They're some of the strongest manipulators on the planet. They are manipulators known as fate weavers they can bend reality to their will.
Social Standing as Well as your Alliance: They're emperors of the neutral land and masters of magic.
Home Village: They were brought up in Pheronia which is the capital of not only Pengiaria but the neutral territory as well. It's a giant castle at heart really with manor homes inside of the castle wall the merchant homes and market, and a large wall surrounding it with farm lands outside of the wall and small peasant villages.
Up for Love:Yes but it would be unusual for them seeing as the two twins compromise one whole to an extent.
So much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens. Red Wheel Barrow by- William Carlos Williams
Oznola stood on the balcony outside of his room he could feel it now in the air. Pheronia was situated over the seal of magic and he could feel it waiting for the battle, the decision, and its fate. The Conflict would come soon the factions would gather and the champions would be selected. He stood there envying those that would do battle though he relished the idea of selecting those that would. A knocking came at his door, "about time you arrived brother."
Alonzo strolled through his brother's door far too many sharp objects for one of the leaders of the Neutral faction in Alonzo's opinion. "You try writing up the formal invites for all that are supposed to be here." If you're even capable of reading.Alonzo thought to himself. He slowly paced the room slapping the envelopes against his hand. "You know I can't believe it's already only three months until The Conflict I've heard rumors that some people are already headed this way."
Onzola's ears perked up at that if it had anything to do with a rumor he was always interested. "Some of the different faction members have already arrived? At such an early date. I assumed they wouldn't arrive until they received their letters." He let out a loud laugh that was carried out on the cool night air. "Well let's get this over with." Alonzo came up next to Onzola and as one they threw the letters in to the air. Focusing their powers as one each letter would reach their intended recipient.
As one they said, "and so it begins."
So much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens. Red Wheel Barrow by- William Carlos Williams
Gilrawën Nalgothrond of Eajra - In Eajra I spread my arms as I was hit by another gust of freezing wind. I smiled as I felt it tug at my hair and dress. From the highest tree in Eajra I could see all the way to the mountains where the Dwarfs lived. A cloudless day like this the view from the tree was splendid. It made her smile, even though she knew that a lady like her shouldn't be smiling.. Well, a lady like her shouldn't be standing at the top of a tree in the first place, so it really didn't matter.
Calling at a 'tree' was a bit of an understatement. The giant trees of Eajra wasn't just trees, but houses, and this tree was a palace. Invisible both from below and above, impossible to find unless you knew the secret paths. I had been born inside this palace, I had grown up in this tree, but now.. Now I felt like a prisoner in this tree. I wanted to explore all the places I could see from here.
"Lady Nalgothrond, your father had called for you."
I looked down and saw a maid sticking her head out from a window just below the branch I was standing on. The head of a fox were sticking out beside hers. "Tell him I will be there in a minute," I said, trying to make my voice as haughty as possible.
"Yes, my lady." The maid disappeared inside, but the fox remained.
"I told you someone would find out," said his voice in my head. As always he sounded playful and childish. "I can already hear your father's speech. 'You're a disgrace to Eajra and to this family, so now I'm going to tell you about all your ancestors even though it really doesn't have anything with this to do.'" I laughed at his mocking impression of my father.
I climbed inside and scoped Tathar up in my arms. His fur was smooth and warm, and I couldn't help but bury my face in it. "I have to get out from time to time. Surely a lady who goes out from time to time is better than a crazy lady?"
"If your parents had their way, you'd be a porcelain doll rather than a living elf."
I giggled a bit at his joke, but sobered up and let him down as I stepped through the door from my chambers. I had already had my bit of fun today, and now I had to behave like the lady I was supposed to be. Tathar followed close behind me down to the second floor of our tree, stopped for a moment when I entered the throne room but came in when my father gave him the signal. It was a tradition in our village. The familiars had to be invited in before entering.
"One of the servants saw you outside again," he said with a condescending sigh. "You're disgracing yourself and this family. What do you think would've happened to Eajra during the third great war if your great grandmother had acted like you?" And then he went on with the rest of our family history, for hours and hours, just like Tathar had said. I did what I usually did, and talked to Tathar instead, but nodded when it needed to look like I was listening. When he finally let us out I was both annoyed and tired. Of course, I couldn't let it show on my face. I had to look completely untouched by everything, and hold my chin high no matter what.
Two servants hurried by, stopping only for a second to bow before me. I waited until they had turned a corner, and then I followed. They were talking, but were too far away fro me to hear. Can you hear what they're saying?
Seems like travelers have been spotted coming this way. One of them is sick.
I hurried my step, but was careful so that the servants wouldn't see me, until I reached a window. I climbed out onto a sturdy branched and looked through the foliage. Yes, there was some people approaching. They were passing right underneath the village, like most people. One of them was clearly sick, but still none of my people made a move to get down and help them.
"You really shouldn't," Tathar warned me.
"They need help. I'm not just going to turn a blind eye."
"I'm coming too."
I pulled a thin vine from the branch and quickly made a harness of it that I put around Tathar. The other end I tied around my waist. I lowered him slowly until I was out of vine, and then I started climbing. The trunk was rough, and easy to grip. I climbed down nimbly, and it didn't take long until we reached the ground. I released Tathar from the harness and hurried after the travelers.
"Do you require our help?" I asked gently, reminding myself to look expressionless. Even if I was breaking the rules, I should remember to act like a lady while doing so. The punishment wouldn't be as stern if I did.
My voice startled the travelers and they spun around to face me. I knew I seemed strange to most humans and dwarfs who passed through. My white dresses and pale skin had made many believe that I was a ghost. I just hope these wouldn't scream and run away.
Spoiler
Satan (what's up with that name? xD), I figured you could take it from here
“Are you looking for sympathy? You'll find it in the dictionary between shit and syphilis” ― Thomas Harris
Race and Appearance: Human. Sharp jaw line, piercing blue-grey eyes. Thick black hair, with streaks of grey beginning to appear on the sides, always cut short and slicked back. Tall (roughly 1.85 m), large build. Always wears a suit for all public appearances. Spoiler
Personality: When average citizens were asked to describe him, the three most common words were: charismatic, progressive, and callous. Rising to power largely on the strength of his speeches, and the ability to sell the citizens on his message of progress, James' political charisma is undeniable. Following up on his promises, James put an unprecedented amount of policies in place, all directed at placing Vertigree at the forefront of scientific and technological advancement, no matter the cost. Funding these new initiatives meant cutting public works projects, social safety nets, and raising the taxes on the general population. These policies gave James the eternal support of Vertigree's intelligentsia, at the cost of losing him the support of the lower class.
There is little information available regarding James' private life, but that which is available paints the picture of a man vastly different than the bombastic, larger than life personality, which he puts on for the public.
Magic User/ Commoner: Engineer, nullification and infusion (he can negate the magic of others, and give objects a weaker version of this ability).
Social Standing as Well as your Alliance: President of Vertigree, neutral.
Up for Love: Not with any of the PCs
A man without a plan, or anything else for that matter. (Except a review thread).
"I was in a good place. A very good place, indeed."
I set my quill on the paper in thought. "An ending fit for a king." I said gently. The words rattled in my mind for a time, then my unconsious agreed with my words and I let my heart finish my book.
My caligraphy was brilliant. As soon as my quill left the paper, the words moved, curved to the fine lines of anything that came near it. The words whispered in elven as I wrote them.
I closed the cover of the book and closed the latch on the opening. These were stories to be learned later on, but not now.
I stood up and fitted the book into its slot on my bookshelf. I sighed in admiration.
Living in a human village is hard, especially when you're an elf. You get used to it after time, which was my case. I had lived here in the small village of Mereim for as long as the elders in it can remember.
It's a major difference from the elven country. Set in between the dwarven and human countries, this town is about as different as you can get. It's supposed to be Control, but there are Neutral and Chaos people here --
A knock on the door interrupted me. "You may enter." I said silently.
The door opened and I turned to see Arazzel. She smiled. "Hi, Melrihm."
"How have you been lately, Arazzel?"
"I'm good, Uncle."
"Still with that boy? Arag'n?"
"Yes, Uncle. I'm still with him. I found something that might belong to you in the bar."
Little known wrinkles formed around my forehead as I frowned. "Certainly you must be mistaken. I'm sure I would remember leaving one of my possessions..." I looked at my desk and went through my internal inventory. Everything seemed to be there.
"Melrihm. Melrihm!" She knocked me out of my inventory checking. "I said it belongs to you, not that it was yours. It's a letter."
She held out her hand, and nestled in it was a small letter with intracite lettering keeping it closed. the letters were elven, but a dialect that was unfamiliar to me.
"Thank you." I grab the delicate letter. She nodded and left.
The letters on the back yearned at the touch of my hand, like it was a familiar touch. As I traced the letters with my finger, they changed. It was an old dialect of evlen, but it was one I could read.
"You are invited to the test of your life, Melrihm Felknir."
It said nothing else. I layed the piece the down on the counter and sighed. The words reminded me of something. Something from one of my stories. I rushed towards the books, inspecting them. None of them were opened. The older ones had a layer of dust over them.
The letter seemed to moan with my heartbeat. Someone had been in here, but that was impossible. I looked at the letter. Inside of it may reveil who the person was.
I walked back to the letter, almost hesitantly, and pulled the the seal of words away from the package. With that, the letters disappeared with a light whisper of what they read.
You are invited to the test of your life, Melrihm Felknir.
The feel of solid meeting solid, the sound of the stone being crushed by the harder and more tempered metal of his own pick, rang in his ears even now, hours after he had been finished in the mines. He would always hang up his gear at the door, rushing to go home and be with his father. Every day, it was like this. Work was dull, the clanging of hard metal against hard stone, the constant tapping patterns on the wall, and the dust in your lungs... these were all minor inconveniences, though. Really, mining was easy, at least for these dwarves. As a member of this small town, he was surrounded by people he liked. All the time, there was someone to make small talk to. This is why people kept going to the mines. It was almost a social hour. That's why Kildred loved the mines.
In his dwarven comunity, it was impossible to say you had a best friend. Everybody was your best friend. It was almost a eutopia. Everybody was happy. Except for the fact that today would end all of that. Kildred, being the best Manipulator in the town, was subject to much worry and sorrow. Nobody wanted him to be the champion chosen to fight. But everybody expected him to be. It was to no surprise that the letter came. It's vague nature needed no explaining. They knew what was yet to come. This was why he trained each day. He would be sent to the top of a mountain each day, faced with some odd task. Sometimes to start a massive forest fire, only to put it out using fire. Sometimes to use manipulation to actually synthesize wood in a liquid state, which proved chemically impossible. However, with the use of magic, he did it. And his axe... bright as the stars from which it was forged, it could cut anything. There was little doubt to whether or not he could win with it. Nobody thought he could lose, and yet... they worried so. Because Somwhere deep down, they knew that everyone has a match. And a superior. And none worried more, and showed it less, than Kildred himself. So, while he sat alone, on a stool in the tavern, cracking jokes to nobody, the letter finally came, and he had to read it.
You are invited to the test of your life, Kildred Maldoor.
So be it.
The words disapeared, whispering to him in his own dwarvish tongue... Test of your life... He started packing some clothes, and light armor. This was going to be a taxing experience... a nececarry one. He briefly wondered, sitting on a rock, high up in the mountain, who he would say goodbye to first. He looked accross the divide, accross the lands of men, and saw the great land of the elves, whose trees were supposed to be the biggest in the world. Would he have to fight them? Probably.
So be it.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king.
Asabelle could hear the rush of wind in the tree-tops, but the forest was calm as a mountain pond. Whenever she looked up, as well, the trees appeared still, which had been her first warning that she would never find Eajra. If she couldn't even see the top of the trees, how would she ever spot an elven town? Still, she pressed on.
A flying contraption was gliding at her heels, four feet long and with a host of small whirring and flapping parts whining at her underneath. Theodon had constructed many of these machines before, for use when sick or wounded dwarves had to be taken down the mountain, though he'd never had use of them himself until now. His illness had come quite unexpectedly -- one night while he was helping Asabelle with a mechanical bird of hers, he'd collapsed. Asabelle tried to help him to his bed, but he'd started babbling to her about elves and the Conflict. It was a while before she could get a coherent sentence out of him, and it had only been, "I must go to Eajra." After that, his condition worsened; he could hardly breathe, he was alarmingly hot, and he never woke up after the first night. The town medics had told her there was likely something wrong with heart, according to their observations, but there was nothing they could do for him. It occurred to her that he had been acting odd that day, and this had occurred to her before. She shook the thought away as she always did, and concentrated instead on maneuvering the flying cot around a particularly large root, .
"Are we getting close?" She asked Theodon, but he only shuddered in his sleep. Asabelle was starting to think she'd lose her head if she didn't talk to somebody soon -- there weren't even any birds around that she could chat with, or more importantly, ask for directions. Still, she pressed on.
Theodon suddenly muttered something, but Asabelle couldn't make out what. She was about to try and wake him, or try and get a few sips of water down his throat at least, when a voice startled her and she spun around,
"Do you require our help?"
A white figure -- startlingly white to Asabelle -- stood before her. She deduced the figure was an elf before she even saw the ears, and she was almost relieved. The blank look on the elf's face, however, made Asabelle uneasy, and she wondered if the stories her older brothers had told her as a child were true, and that elves really were void of any emotion.
She told herself that that was silly, but still she warily stepped in-between the elf and Theodon and replied, "That depends on who is offering it."
Gilrawën Nalgothrond of Eajra - Beneath Eajra "That depends on who is offering it."
Of course she was suspicious. She wasn't used to our customs and I wasn't allowed to smile. I glanced up towards the palace. No, I'd better not. "Just us," I said as Tathar sat down beside my foot. I wasn't wearing any shoes, and didn't need any in the thick moss. "Do you require our help?" I repeated, careful to keep the frustration from my voice.
She seemed to finally give in. "My teacher is sick. Can you help him?"
I placed myself beside the small carriage that he was laying in. An unusual contraption, to say the least. I focused on the man and held out my hand above him, the pawn down. I noticed a fault in his heart, impossible to fix without magic. If I hadn't come down the man would've died. I put my hand on his chest and used my magic to change his heart back to its normal state.
"He's going to be alright, he just needs rest. Come with me." I started walking towards a secret entrance in one of the trees, only used when we had patients who couldn't climb.
I put a hand on the seemingly solid trunk of a giant tree, used my magic once more, and watched how a door appeared. I opened it and gestured for the dwarf to go inside. The door was big enough for the contraption to get through.
The inside of the trunk was hollow, all the way to the top, and there were holes here and there that let the light in. The furniture of the room had been created by magic, so it looked as if they had grown from the wooden floor. "You are free to stay here until he recovers. Would you like some food?" I let myself smile towards her for a second, since no one was watching.
It seemed to have the desired effect. "Yes."
I nodded and left the room, Tathar was waiting outside the door. I made sure to close it before I looked up. A tray of food was being hoisted down. I took it and untied the vines. It was custom to bring an accepted patient food and beverage, even though I hadn't actually been allowed to accept them. I brought the tray into the room and put it down on a table.
The dwarf eyed the dishes suspiciously, even though I could see the hunger in her eyes. "What is this?"
"Fruits and vegetables grown in the trees, prepared in the palace kitchen." I was curious about her, and I wanted so badly to ask where they came from, but I knew I couldn't. I wasn't allowed to ask about them, and I was not allowed to talk about Eajra. Hopefully she'd talk even if I didn't ask.
“Are you looking for sympathy? You'll find it in the dictionary between shit and syphilis” ― Thomas Harris
It was not one of his better choices, he'll admit, coming back here, and bringing along Estrade, his assistant, was an even more foolish decision. He couldn't count the years, how long it's been since he last laid sights on the Rain Forest, and he doesn't wish to try, lest his emotions run haywire as they're known to do. But the path to his destination just so happened to cross his true homeland and he simply could not resist going off course for a while.
You're invited to the test of your life, the letter said, but he was finding the battle to quell the urge to rush into the forest and disband his domestic life a far harder test than any the note could have suggested. It was a selfish want, he knew. He could not ask Estrade to follow him in there, the boy being an elf himself, and why would he give up his comfortable life for forest life anyway? He shouldn't. He wouldn't.
"Come, Estrade, we're almost there."
"Why have we stopped here though? I'm not dense enough to assume this was by chance."
Lamont smiled and turned away, his hands in his pockets.
"You ask too many questions."
"Isn't that my job?"
"No, your job is to gather my supplies, run my errands, and look after-"
"The horses! Crap!"
Lamont let out a deep sigh as he watched the boy run off to retrieve the horses he'd forgotten to tie. It was going to be a very long day, but they were almost to where they were they supposed to be and life stepped straight for now.
~
Turns out it was a castle. Lamont wasn't surprised. He set his bag on the ground carefully and folded his hands together. He didn't enter anywhere without thoroughly inspecting it first. The sun had long since gone down, he was in his element, night time. He took off his shoes and gloves and pressed a hand against the side of the building. The ridges and holes in the wall made it easy enough to climb. He quickly made his way to the roof, slipping only once or twice, but did not revel in his conquest for long before a voice cleared behind his back.
"You must be Mr. Curr."
Lamont composed himself from a brief bout of surprise and nodded curtly.
"Goodbye, oh goodbye everyone!" Cadence called as she dramatically climbed up into the wagon and sat down on a bale of hay in the back. She gave a big, cheery smile and waved with a lot of enthusiasm to the gathering of villagers who had come to see her off.
"Do visit us!" Cady's mother called, wringing her hands fretfully as she tried to think if there was anything she had forgotten to pack in her little girl's bag before sending her off.
"Oh, I shouldn't think I'll be home too soon. But once I'm a big magician!" This was what Cadence had waited her whole life for. Then slowly the cart started to move and the red haired girl turned around to fix her eyes excitedly on the approaching world of magic and stardom.
The world was a long time approaching. When Cadence wriggled around in her seat a whole hour later, she could still see the village and mountain peeks off in the distance.
Cadence stood up, wobbling a little on her feet and stumbled to the front of the cart, leaning over the side toward the driver. "Where did you say this invite came from and to what am I invited to?" It was all very marvellous of course that someone out in the world had noticed her but Cady wondered who it was! Perhaps the funny looking man with the flat, green hat and the pet frog who has passed through her village last winter!
"You are to be part of the conflict," the mysterious wagon driver replied.
"Yes, but what is that? What is this test of my life?" Cadence pulled the piece of paper out of the pocket of her beautiful, vintage dress and waved it in front of her. "How am I to be prepared if I don't know what it is?"
I ducked under a chair as it whizzed at my head. I straightened, smirking, as I jerked my tunic straight. I grabbed a mug sitting nearby on a table and took a long drought before slamming it down on the bar, sloshing it out, ignoring the protests of the drunkard it belonged to.
I turned my attention back to the men, still advancing on me, scowling. I smirked again and sidestepped a second chair, listening to it clatter to the ground behind me. "You have to do better than tha--" The rest of my taunt was lost as a stool landed across the back of my head.
I rolled to the side, just in time to dodge a large foot as it stomped towards where my head was. I leapt to my feet, grabbing the man's arm as he took a swing at me, yanking him forward, off balance, as I drove my fist into his side.
I grabbed a fistful of his head and slammed it into the bar, kneeing him in the stomach, before pushing him to the ground. Two men stepped forward, both towering over me. I bent and grabbed the leg of the stool and leapt at them, sending blood flying everywhere as my club made contact.
I continued into a cluster of men, who were sending bottles flying at me. I ducked under most of them, but a few made contact, shattering instantly, drenching my clothing in ale.
I took on most of the men in the bar, before two grabbed my arms and lifted me off my feet. I kicked my feet, trying to get free, but they launched me backward. I flew through the bar, flailing, until I struck something, flipping me over so that I busted my face off the bar and crumpled onto it, on the wrong side.
I heard a deep growl. I blinked stupidly, using the bar to haul myself up to my feet, looking up to find the man in the corner, drenched in his drink, giving me a death glare as he rose to his full 7-foot-tall height.
My mouth gaped open. "I didn't-"
His fingers curled around the front of my shirt, and he yanked me over the bar. His fist landed squarely on my jaw, knocking me backward, into a table. He was on me before I could recover, backhanding me into the door so hard it flew open, depositing me onto the street.
"And stay out!" The barkeeper yelled after me.
I blinked stupidly, my head spinning, and pushed myself up to a sitting position. I smelled drunker than I was. I could use a drink after that. I shook my head, slowly, putting a hand to my lip, dabbing away the blood.
"There he is!"
I looked around as four soldiers spread around me, forming a loose ring.
"There it is!"
I followed the lead soldier's gaze, finding the golden pendant that I might or might not have found lying on the floor...of a wealthy merchant's safe... lying on the ground beside me. I snatched, tucking it safely within my tunic once more, as I leapt to my feet.
I started between two of the soldiers, but a fist caught me on the cheek, knocking me back to the center of their ring. My vision was spotty. I swung wildly, my fist meeting with warm flesh, coming away with blood, before the soldier's behind me leapt on me, pushing me flat on my face, jerking my arms behind me roughly.
"Riemann Seregon, you are hereby placed under arrest."
"On what charges?" I growled as I jerked my arms away from them, earning nothing but an extra blow to the face.
"Think of everything you've done today and pick something--I'm pretty sure you broke every law there is."
They wrestled the cuffs onto one of my wrists.
"Not-- Not true." I grunted.
"Close enough-- go ahead."
"Wait a minute." I growled as a cuff clamped down onto the flesh of my wrist. "You're pinching my wrists."
"You're grating my nerves. I suppose that makes us even."
They jerked me to my feet. "Wait a minute."
The Lieutenant nodded to the soldiers, who jerked on my arms, making me stumble between them. They pushed me several yards, far enough to have gotten everyone's attention, when my foot got caught on a stone and I fell flat on my face. The didn't even try to catch me.
I spewed curses, spitting out a mouthful of dirt, when a set of boots appeared in my vision. I looked way up, into the smirking face of a finely dressed messenger. "Riemann Seregon?"
"I am."
"I've got your summons."
"My--?"
"Let him up."
The soldiers argued with the messenger for a moment. When the messenger told them who sent him, the soldiers promptly freed me of my binds, relieved me of the pendant, and then excused themselves. I straightened my tunic and glared at the messenger suspiciously.
He handed me a small envelope. I broke the seal and read: You are invited to the test of your life, Riemann Seregon.
"This isn't--"
"It is. Be there." The messenger said icily, before striding away.
I turned the letter over in my hands. The Conflict. "Yeah, I'll be there."
"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus "From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf "A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni [they/he]
It was difficult to say when he found himself hopelessly lost. He was to be making his way directly to where the Conflict was to be held. But lo, it was not to be, or so it seemed. He had awoken from a night sleeping under the stars, in the middle of a deep forest, without his pony. He still had all of his gear, which he wisely removed from the pony, instead using it to cover himself, and as a matress. This way he would know if it got stolen. He was disheartened, but not much. He never really liked that pony anyway. The point was, he was stuck in the woods, with very little supplies. He had little to begin with, just some gold, his axe, some clothes, a waterskin full of water, and a large fur blanket. He could carry it easily by himself, but he still faced the chalange of navigating his way to the nearest town. His common sense told him that if he could find a river, he could follow it to the nearest town. Towns had to have water supplies. As he began his search, however, he quickly discovered that it would be far easier, to Kildreds knowlege of the wilderness, to just build a new city. He quickly grew impatient, and hungry. It was fortunate that he could hunt well enough, taking a stone from the ground and killing a single hare. It was a fat, brownish hare, and would make for good eating later, if he could cook it. If he could cook it. Great. He could use this experience to name that stupid city he was going to build out of impatience. Soon enough, however, he heard the sound of running water, and was pleased in little time to find a broad stream running down and through the mountain. He followed it for what seemed to be days, but was in fact just a day. As the night fell, he became aware of something else, trailing him. Not exactly trailing him, but definitely watching him. Probably toying with him, even. It was difficult to say, but as he lit his fire for the night, with the help of his magic, he could have swore that eyes were watching him through the gloom. He wanted to call out, but he was too hungry. He gutted the hare with the failsafe expertise that was bestowed upon him by the coveted "beginners luck" and rosted it whole on a sharpened stick. He than ate the hare. It was delicious. Probably not really that good, but having killed and cooked it himself, his back to the shadows cast by the flames that he built up with his magic, added to the fact that he was hopelessly lost, made him enjoy it that much more. On top of that, he grew wierdly attatched to that stick. It was nice. He felt like a child again, going through the woods on "adventures" after training to hone his "skills". He would always pick up the same stick, which he deemed his "hiking staff". Those were the days, weren't they? With that, he slept. The last thing he saw, however, sihlouetted against the half moon, was the outline of some... figure, wrapped up in robes. He seemed to bare a mask as well, but Kildred couldn't see. His eyes were already closing.
He awoke to the chill of dawn, his fire long having burnt to pathetic cinders. He went back to the river, and followed it downstream for the better of the rest of the day. He kept the stick on him as well, chared and sticky as it was. He went through the trouble of cleaning it off in the river as he walked. Truly, he must've looked like a child. But to whom? Was there anyone watching him? He doubted it. But than he recalled the masked figure. He didn't see him, but he felt his presence. He was watching him. Either that, or Kildred was being paranoid. He longed for there to be a town.
His heart sang as a plume of smoke in the distance became visible, and he nearly ran the whole way towards it. In a valley, not far from the mountains foot, was a small village. It was a human village called Pathos. Once there, he flung his stick aside, and ran to the gates. There were only two guards. Although sceptical, they didn't stop him entering the village. He stopped at a tavern and bought himself a celebratory "I survived" tankard of ale. Best human ale he had tasted in a long time.
After this, he decided to leave. He had to get to the conflict, after all. He gathered up his things and, after having to go around a very enthusiastic group of humans who seemed to be waving off a girl who Kildred would not have noticed if not for her flaming red hair. He made his way down the road. The wagon she was on passed him on the road later, as he made his way, following the map he was given, to where he thought he was to be going. He vaguely heard that the woman was pestering the driver with something, asking him about a test. What had she said? He almost stopped dead in his tracks as the wagon passed. Test of her life? Is she going to the conflict? He decided that he should at least follow the wagon. He walked behind it, scoring several curious glances from the red headed girl on board. He didn't care though. He only hoped that they knew where they were going better than he did.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king.
My hands were shaking as I removed the delicate letter from its envelope. I studied it for a few seconds. Somewhere, a strange part of my mind reminded me that I should put something this coveted in one of my books. I ignored that part of my mind and read aloud, hoping no one would hear the words inscribed on the fragile note.
"Melrihm, you are a part of the elven race and a follower of the Chaos side of magic. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Alonzo. I am co-ruler of Pheronia Castle, capital of the Neutral Land. My brother and I are inviting you to The Conflict, which you of all people should know what that is.
"Now that you know what you are invited to, although I had a suspicion that you already knew about it, let me explain why I chose you, off all people, to become one of the members fighting for Chaos.
"There are many more people better suited for this and more capable for defending Chaos. I picked you first, though, for Chaos, because of what you did to get where you are now.
"I am an elf, too, and I do not believe that what the members of our race did to you was right. I believed you did the right thing by leaving and isolating yourself from the rest of your race.
"You have been through much. Much more than I, or my brother have been through, and we are rulers of a controversial kingdom. You are also powerful. More so than you believe. I have seen it.
"You are a mysterious person, Melrihm, trust me, I know more about you than you do. I have followed you for as long as I could follow the strands of time. You are old, older than anyone else of our race that I know, but like any living being, you have made mistakes. This is the way for you to fix those mistakes or at least make up for them.
"I hope to see you soon and talk to you in person. As I did not say this earlier in the letter, I will say it at the end. My brother and I are cordially inviting you to become a member of The Conflict.
"I say this more to you than to others, for this will test your alliegiance more than anything. This will be the place where you will find the truth in everyone, even yourself.
"Sincerely, Alonzo and Oznola"
I put the letter down on the desk, my hands shaking. I walked to my closet and opened it. My daily clothes were on the right, and my gardening clothes on the left. I pushed them farthest to each side of the wall and open my second, secret closet. In it laid only one thing: My elf things that I left my people and my country with.
I pulled them out and wrapped most of them in a bag and stuffed them back in. One pair, a long tunic and leggings made from the best leaves in Eajra. I quickly slipped these on and packed a few essential items from my desk into a small pack, which I slung over my back.
I walked back into my second closet and reached out a staff, two daggers, and two orbs. I put the orbs and daggers in the hidden pockets around my belt and used my staff as a walking stick.
I closed my closet doors and sat down at my desk, looking at the note for a second time. I folded it back up and slipped it back into its envelope. I then put it in my pocket.
I looked at my shelf of books that were all locked. I smiled a sad smile. That little reminder in my head quieted itself when I responded to it. I would probably not live long enough to put something this coveted into one of my books.
I snapped my fingers and the air in the room vibrated and hummed. The locks on all of the books quivered and broke with a sigh.
With that, I walked out of my room, out of my house, and out of my town without a word to anyone.
