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Heirs to Legend

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Thu Jul 06, 2017 8:05 pm
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Lael says...

Heirs to Legend

Thousands of years ago, the existence of Telya was threatened by the Slyrinik, a horde of evil creatures led by Gaurem, the Dark Lord of the Otherworld, a realm guarded by the most potent magic where all powerful creatures of darkness are supposed to be banished. However, they managed to gather enough strength to break the bonds of their prison and gathered themselves in an army at the Border of Telya, the very edge of the world.

Their attack on Telya was stopped by a long, hard-won battle with the Fellowship, a coalition of seven people from different Telyan races. Their deeds were told through the generations, long after they had all passed on. It was said that these heroes promised that if there were ever such a danger to threaten Telya again, they would return to save their land.

(With that being said, here is the "abridged" story that wandering minstrels tell about the Fellowship:)
Spoiler! :
Come one, come all, and hear the story
of the brave Seven, a Fellowship of
the races; they banded together
to defeat the force of Darkness which
gathered at the Border of our world
to destroy Telya, to extinguish the existence,
the lives of all people. But the Fellowship
joined hands, refusing to bow
and let their people perish. “To defend
is our honor,” they said, “and death is our

They traveled to the Border of the world
to fight that terrible host of Evil—
Királin, the fair Elf with silver in her veins,
wielded her mighty bow carved of ofani’s tusk;
Panér healed his friends with the Elven
touch of Life in his gentle hands;
Taron, prince of the Sword, prince of the
Hills, rode ahead with Eirawen, the clever
maiden of the Shield at his right hand;
Laramór the voyager of the Gray-cloak
harnessed Magic in his mistwood Staff
to light the way for his companions;
Chilo the valiant Dwarf fought with
the power of Fire and with his great Axe,
while Narowa Queen, the golden Wolf
felled her enemies with Fang and Claw.

All had Hope and Courage in their hearts,
with the voices of friends to swell the Love
for dear Telya. The Fellowship drove the
invaders back, back to that Pit of Nothing
from whence they came, and all the
people rejoiced: “Hail, Királin and Panér!
Hail Taron and Eirawen! Hail Laramór and
Chilo! Hail Narowa, Queen of Wolves!
Should our world be ever threatened again,
these great Heroes shall come to save us once

None of the Fellowship remains living on Telya. Now some even believe that the story is merely a romantic legend of good triumphing over evil.

However, strange things have been occurring in the past years. To all of Telya's horror and dismay, the Otherworld has been breached. A group calling themselves the Slyrinik are waging war on the world to destroy it and for their "last loss". They are led by Gaurem.

The legend was true all along.

Now, the High Council of the races has declared that the heroes of old must be found. Because all the members of the original Fellowship are dead, they believe that their spirits are living on in their descendants. They search the corners of their world to find the seven who match the tale's descriptions of the original heroes as close as possible in order to form the New Fellowship, which the High Council hopes will be able to defeat the Slyrinik and Gaurem.

The Council has succeeded in finding seven warriors. Though some of the new seven feel prepared to take on the challenge and the legacy, others believe they shouldn't be forced to step into the role of their ancestors as they are not the heroes from the past reborn. At the same time, relations between the races have not been the smoothest. Regardless, it seems that these seven have been pushed together and expected to be Telya's hope against the enemies. Will they be able to push aside their differences and reservations, fight their way to the Border of Telya, and defeat the Slyrinik together?

The Characters:

Heir to Királin: Ésmaril Jumara
- Female
- Silver Elf (Agmar)
- Archer
- Wields Királin's bow
Reserved by: @Lael

Heir to Panér: Kiirion Ayair Faelar
- Male
- Green Elf (Hryndari)
- Healer
- Has a healing touch
Reserved by: @soundofmind

Heir to Taron: Melvix Antavex
- Male
- Human (Rannian)
- Warrior and a Prince of Ranning
- Wields a sword
Reserved by: @Lightsong

Heir to Eirawen: Gentle Weep of the Willow Tree
- Female
- Human (Andarati)
- Shieldmaiden
- Wields a sword and shield
- Owns a warhorse
Reserved by: @Sheyren

Heir to Laramór:
Sagaree Poashend
- Male
- Human (Saemarrim)
- Wizard
- Wields a magical staff
Reserved by: @MJTucker

Heir to Chilo: Thorik Von Holstheim
- Male
- Dwarf (Pyradian)
- Warrior and smith
- Wields an axe
Reserved by: @TheForgottenKing

Heir to Narowa: Savitri Hediya
- Female
- Wolf (Aro)
- Queen of Aro
- Seems to have a golden stripe on her fur.
Reserved by: @Wolfical

Here is the CP template. Please delete all parentheses when you're done.
Spoiler! :
Code: Select all
[b]Representing:[/b] (original Fellowship member's name here)




[b]Other:[/b] (optional)

More information about the races and individual kingdoms, tribes, etc., will be in the DT. Keep those in mind when you make your characters, please.

Link to WFP:
"as it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death."
Philippians 1:20

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Lael says...

They marched. Row after row, they moved like a sea of ants towards the large, shimmering tear leading to beyond their world. Beyond the Otherworld, and into Telya.

Into the land of the savages, the enemy.

From above, he watched his army of orcs, goblins, and other creatures of darkness, armed with their wicked weapons, pouring forward. They may have been despised by the creatures of the Light Realm, but they were strong, and willing to fight for the ultimate cause.

He felt a stirring within him, a thirst for destruction. He would have felt a rapid, angry thrum within him had he a heart. But there was nothing of the sort within his existence.

In his long lifetime, he had experienced many things. In the beginning, when he came into his own, he had succeeded in usurping the weak creatures of light. He had reigned supreme in the realms of Dark and Light. Other, inferior creatures had lived and died in less than a blink of an eye under his long rule.

But then . . . The cold, angry feeling within him writhed. They had come.

The Seven. In his mind's Eye, he could still see that battle of so long ago. A burning howl piercing the air, the flash of a mighty sword and axe, a war horse's hooves pounding into his soldiers' bodies. Three arrows sailing straight and true, a pair of hands which renewed the strength of the other enemies. And a wretched staff, raised high, wielding a blinding light from the hateful sky. Abhorrent chants, the spilling of blood . . .

He hissed. The Telyan traitors should be long dead by now. They were of no significance. But now, there was a new chance. The bonds of the Otherworld were broken, at last. The Slyrinik would have revenge . . . on every living descendant of the Seven.

Gaurem descended and crossed the threshold, from blessed darkness into cursed light.
"as it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death."
Philippians 1:20

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soundofmind says...

◄ Kiirion Ayair Faelar ►

"I have faith in you Kii," Aenwyn spoke gently as she walked up beside him, and kissed him on his cheek affectionately.

"You say that because you're my mother." Kiirion responded as if annoyed, but a soft grin grew on his face, making for a gentle expression.

"That's why I ought to." She replied, putting a hand on his arm.

Kiirion's grin faded, and he looked away from her with downcast eyes. He was packing for the journey to Ranning, where he would meet the other descendants of the seven, and he had an abundance of mixed feelings, though he knew with his mother, he couldn't discuss them. He knew from her proud expression and her language that she didn't just have faith in him to do it, she expected him to do it, without question. Of course, she saw no problem with it and he never expressed his dislike of the responsibility placed upon him just because of his heritage, so there was no reason for her to expect that her actions only added to the underlying bitterness.

"Thank you, mother." He replied with a warm smile, his white teeth glowing in contrast to his tan skin, and gave her an over-the-shoulder hug.

"For something such as this, there is no other healer out there more worthy than you." She continued, mirroring the smile. "I always knew you would be the one to continue to bring honor to the Faelar name."

"Not that it needed much more in the first place," Kiirion replied with a grin and laughing eyes, but he meant it.

"Nonetheless, I'm very proud of you, Kii." She said with another smile and a nod of her head. "I'll leave you to finish packing." She patted Kiirion's arm before leaving the room, her dress flowing behind her as she walked.

Kiirion watched as she left with a solemn expression, his gaze falling to the floor once she left. No matter how genuine his mother's words appeared to be or even might have been, he always felt that nagging feeling that she was... using him. Their family had never had much influence until his ability was discovered, and as soon as it was, his mother seemed to grab a hold of it and advertised it to the world. What she was doing now in promoting this wasn't far off from being a simple extension of that.

Of course... he loved her. She was his mother, after all. But it did make for an easier goodbye. He was, as much as it sounded horrible to admit, eager to get far from her reach.

⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗

Kiirion rode on the back of his horse out of the Hryndar forest to make the long journey into the rolling hills of Ranning. The landscape passed slowly, transitioning from the familiar tall, towering trees with the sun-rays peeking through the branches above, to the flatter plains. The trees seemed to get gradually shorter the further out he travelled, and though the land before him was new and foreign to him, and beautiful in the light of the clear sky, he gave it little appreciation and attention.

He was thinking further ahead - consumed with weighty concerns about the journey that would be ahead of him, and the people who he'd be working with. He knew nothing of the other descendants of the seven, and he was not so naive as to expect that they would achieve the same unity of a group dynamic as their ancestors. Just because fate brought them together did not mean that it would feel like it was 'meant to be.' That he was firmly assured of.

And with the surprisingly very real threat of legend, emerging seemingly so sudden, he held his suspicions. He didn't doubt that the threat was very real and present, otherwise he wouldn't have been called to go to Ranning, but... he didn't know who to trust. He would be watching closely the actions of others, and listening closely to their speech. Though his role in the fellowship would be one of support, he determined in his heart not to let anything slip past him.

This is life or death. For us all.

⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗

As he entered into the kingdom of Ranning he observed the laypeople running about, completing their daily tasks in an endless monotonous loop of repetition. Humans were to him, always peculiar companions. They were passionate and hardy, and achieved much in their short lifespan. The average human though, wasn't much different from the average elf in comparison. Not all beings were called to be the greats - those ones whose names were written in books, carved in stones, and remembered for the ages. He wondered... if that would be his fate. What would be the fate of their world?

We shall have to see, after this decisive meeting. Maybe even this meeting, would be one written in history.But - he didn't really care much for such grandiose aspirations as he was overwhelmed by the sheer intensity and greatness of the task before them.

As he rode up to the grand castle at which the High Council and the New Fellowship would be gathering, he took one last moment to refocus. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and hopped off of his horse. At the door servants came to take his horse and welcome him into the castle. Just as he'd planned, he had arrived first. As he walked through the large double doors, he took note of the low doorways. Though he didn't have to duck yet, he was sure not all of the doors would suit his height. It was a castle built by humans after all.

As he entered the hall in which they were meeting, he saw the room was already full of the High Council members.

"Kiirion Ayair Faelar of Hyrndar has arrived." A page announced to the room, before departing.

As he looked about the room, Jhaeros Balfir and Nei Herbella of Hyrndar were the most familiar faces of the sixteen, though he didn't favor their presence. Nei rose from her seat and waved Kiirion over.

"It's a pleasure to see you as always, Kiirion." She began, with her always present diplomatic, flattery filled greetings. Kiirion returned the fomalities with a bow of his head and a pleasant smile, though there was no warmth behind it.

"I see you're living up to your reputation," Savanyah of Ranning commented in mild amusement, though also appreciative of his respect for their time. "They told me you'd be the first one here."

"Timeliness is always an honorable first impression. Though that platitude I credit to my mother," Kiirion replied with a cordial grin, though only out of obligation.

As he was welcomed to the table, he continued to entertain the compulsory small talk with the Council members, though it inwardly pained him. He could see the plastered smiles on their faces.

You only want me here because of what I can do for you. If he hadn't perfected maintaining a pleasant expression over literal decades of practice, he would have sneered in contempt.

Then, another person arrived at the door.

"Queen Savitri Hediya of Aro," the page announced.

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Lightsong says...

Melvix Antavex of Ranning, Heir to Taron

Melvix moved through the crowd wearing a brown tunic that hid his silver chain mail. A white toga hugged the tunic. Chatters and laughter met his ear like the buzzing of a bee - annoying, unwanted. To distract himself from the noise, he directed his thought to the service he had swore as a part of the Fellowship to the High Council. Savanya Krish treated him like a mother would, and she definitely used the respect he had given to her as an advantage to persuade him to join. He didn’t mind, though. If she thought this was the best way to defeat Gaurem and his damned minions, he would defer.

That being said, it brought the image of blood and corpses to his mind, tickling his throat to attempt him to vomit. Negotiation with Gaurem was impossible, alas.

Among the stalls lining the road, he saw Renor Texavar. The man had her black-haired tied, his attention to the goods presented in front of him. He noticed Melvix’s presence, however, as when he approached, he spoke. ‘You are going to the meeting?’

Melvix stood beside him, nodding. ‘Yes. You should know that by now as the Council decided the date and place. I do not know why they would choose Ranning, however. I am pretty sure our kingdom does not have a good reputation with others given our ruler chooses to be an emperor. Perhaps Hryndar or Saemaro are better options?’

Renor took a red apple and inspected it, twisting it in his hand. ‘The place does not matter. What matters is how effective the Fellowship would be. And Rah Arkavach is not keen with the ruler of Saemaro.’ He grunted. ‘That is true for other human kingdoms. I hope after this cooperation between kingdoms, he would see there is no need to expand the influence of Ranning. This is a bad apple.’

‘I prefer mango,’ Melvix said, picking the orange yellow fruit. ‘I heard the Aro brings their queen as a member for the Fellowship. Would not be a risky move, the kingdom having no one to look after it?’

Renor took the mango from him and threw it to one of the bowls prepared for the customers. ‘The Aro is not stupid. Savitri Hediya is a more than capable queen and she has picked the most suitable wolf to take her place.’ He paused. ‘I do wonder what would the atmosphere be like in the Fellowship later. Having a queen around might give some tensions. I would bet some would know how to interact with her. That being said, I do hope the Fellowship would work.’

‘I hope so too. Savanya is adamant this is the best way. I am sure to meet fellow fighters like myself, though I suspect I would be the only one who does not relish on being the one who draw out the blood from the enemies.’ Melvix rubbed his face. ‘Why cannot fighting be a sport instead of a murdering action? I guess it would take time before we turn to negotiations to settle disputes.’

Renor looked at him and gave him the basket of fruits he had purchased. ‘Melvix Antavex, after the whole thing with the Fellowship is over, remind me to nominate you for a position in the High Council.’

He accepted the basket and smiled. ‘That would be interesting indeed. I would not forget. Now, shall we proceed to the meeting?’

‘Your arm, young man,’ Renor said, holding out his hand. ‘Savanyah must have been waiting.’

Melvix chuckled and offered his arm, which Renor took. Unlike other men, Renor was not fond of the idea of masculinity. He kept his hair long, now reaching his waist. He wore a generic tunic, though its white colour would be considered feminine. People would certainly notice his painted lips and saw he was odd. Not to Melvix. The siblings, Renor and Savannah, were dear to him. Renor for his casual attitude and Savanyah for her wisdom. Together, Melvix and Renor walked to the castle.

⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗

Melvix was the third Fellowship member to arrive while Renor was the last Council member to do so. The page announced their arrival and as they walked in, they could see the first two stared at them. It must have been odd for them; perhaps because they were humans while the Fellowship members were an elf and a wolf. And also perhaps the sight of two men having unusual outward intimacy was rare. Melvix did not care. He had not cared about what others thought of him as long as he remembered. Renor parted with him, going to the table reserved for the High Council and joining his sister.

The wolf though. She must be Savitri Hadiya, the Queen of Aro. The flecks of silver and gold in her fur contributed to her majestic look. He wondered what would it feel like, though perhaps voicing the thought out loud would be inappropriate. She interacted with others easily, but it was clear from her voice that she did not want others to forget she was a royal member. Melvix would want to have some one-on-one time with her to understand her better.

Kiirion, the elf, also impressed him. He stood tall, his body ripped with muscles. With eyes that blue and hair that gold, Melvix was sure he would be everyone’s favourite immediately. He was conversing with the Council members, his pleasant smile looking so familiar. A practiced one, Melvix thought while he talked with Nei Herbella. Shifting his attention to the Hryndar’s Council member, he could glean her experience with the way she presented herself.

He managed to sit alone, finally, and looked around. The other should have arrived soon.

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MJTucker says...

Sagaree stood on the peak of one of the small hills in Ranning, pausing for a moment to catch his breath. In front of him, the guide he had hired to take him to the Council meeting slowed, but just barely. "Come, Mr. Poashend, it is only a 1 more hour journey," he said in his heavy accent.

Sagaree nodded slowly, looking up at the sky. He had a few hours, but once he got to the capital city of Ranning, he needed to shop for an exquisite gift to present the hosts. It was customary to select one item, usually costing several month's wages for an ordinary citizen, to thank them for preparing a dinner and agreeing to take charge of the meeting.

Of course, Sagaree thought that HE should be paid for sitting through another boring council meeting. He was never able to get a word in through the other bellowing council members, arguing furiously with each other until they were on the verge of physical violence. The hosts never did anything to disrupt the verbal repartee, and it could go on for hours of insults flying back and forth.

But this was a very important Council meeting. It had been stressed that it was critical that all members be present, the representatives from all nations flocking to Ranning at a moment's notice. Sagaree was lucky that Ranning was close, since he had been away on business and had just returned yesterday evening, and was able to walk the entire distance in only a few hours.

Sagaree was immersed in his thoughts as he climbed the rocky terrain, following the guide mindlessly. He didn't even notice that they were nearing the city until the guide tapped him on the shoulder.

"Mr. Sir, we are here."

⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗
Sagaree stood in front of the tall building, holding a box with a beautiful diamond ring in one hand and a beautifully carved bow in the other. He had found them from a merchant, who had sworn that they were the best in Ranning, and decided that they would be suitable presents for his hosts. The door swung open, and he looked up into the face of Melvix Antavex of Ranning.

"Hello, Melvix. It's been a long time."

"Greetings, Sagaree. Indeed it has, too long, in fact, but what's this you're holding?"

"A small gift for the host." Sagaree presented the bow to Melvix, along with the box.

"Sagaree, this is too much," Melvix said airily, running his hands up and down the fine bow and opening the box to examine the ring.

"It was nothing, really. Just something I saw along the way that I though was suitable to present to the host and the hostess."

"Well, allow me to offer my deepest thanks to you for your kindness."

"Certainly. Has the meeting begun?"

"No, but it is about to. Allow me to escort you."

"Thank you, Melvix."

Melvix nodded and guided Sagaree through the crowd to the table reserved for the High Council, offering him a chair near him. Sagaree gratefully accepted and sat down in the chair, keeping his back straight and folding his hands on the table. He nodded politely at the other council members there, waving at a few down towards the end of the table.

He was always intimidated by these gatherings, and couldn't help feeling like he had nothing to bring to the table. Looking around, he noticed how strong and powerful all the other members were, and cast a disdainful look at his own figure, noticing now small and scrawny it was in comparison to Kiirion, or even Melvix.

He sighed, a deep breath rattling his entire body. Glancing around, he saw a few empty seats, but couldn't identify who was missing. I hope they arrive soon, he thought to himself, wondering how much longer he could keep up the fake pretense of politeness, playing this deadly game of mannerisms and negotiations.
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Wolfical says...

Queen Savitri of Aro

Looking inside, she found the extravagant royalties of the carriage, and the way it would separate her from the earth, absolutely revolting. Even from far away she could smell the stuffy velvet seats and thought she would certainly suffocate if she was to be locked inside.

In Aro, no wolf, especially the queen, would have been expected to disgrace themselves by traveling in such a contraption, let alone one drawn by walking meat. She liked the taste of horse meat and while being suffocated in the carriage would have also felt a hint of guilt that a team of them were obliviously serving her. Even though they were stupid and she had indulged herself in many an equine meal, Savitri had a great respect for horses, and disliked that they were forced into servitude by humans. She was accustomed to seeing fierce and wild herds of them in Aro, the embodiments of the spirit of nature, and it saddened her to see them so oppressed.

She had traveled quite briskly on her own four paws to the border of Aro, flanked by members of her royal guard, to meet the humans that would escort her to the meeting in Ranning. Of course she should have anticipated that humans, determined but weak as they were, would have supposed it only necessary to provide her with transportation, but rather as recognizing it as a polite gesture, she was insulted.

“Absolutely not!” she cried, a bit more passionately than she had meant. Two of the horses, already intimidated by the half dozen giant wolves in front of them, panicked at her voice and threw both the riders.

“They’re only trying to be respectful,” the wolf at her side whispered.

The humans looked confused. “Is there something wrong with the carriage, Your Highness?”

“I’m terribly sorry,” Savitri said, “but yes. Everything is wrong with it. I shall not travel in a carriage.”

“How do you wish to travel, Your Highness?”

“On my feet, of course,” she said.

“Whatever you wish, Your Highness, but note that we still have a long way to travel and the rest of us will be riding horseback.”

“That will be fine,” Savitri said, smiling. “I won’t slow you down, I promise.”

As she bid her fellow wolves goodbye, a heavy dew of sadness blanketed her heart. She touched noses which each of them and exchanged deep gazes, wordless conversations that she would remember far longer than any words.

Then she flicked her tail and galloped off in the general direction of Ranning, slowing down only so that the startled horseman and the empty carriage could catch up.

⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗

"Queen Savitri Hediya of Aro.”

Truth be told, Savitri was greatly unsettled. She was not used to being totally separated from her kin, and her first taste of it was bitter. She also disliked towns and cities and constricting castles, preferring her own humble cave, where she could sit at its mouth and watch the flocks of birds drift by.

In the hall, she was assailed with a great number of different scents from the feast table, and from the many different creatures in the room, and for a moment she was so overwhelmed that she forgot to puff her chest out. But in another moment she had recovered, and gazed across the expanse of the room, to the High Council members, feeling not the least bit intimidated. She was the queen of Aro, and was gladdened to see many awe-stricken faces turn her way.

She drifted between conversations, paying particular attention to the members of the New Fellowship. So far only the elf Kiirion was there, who struck her immediately as stuck-up and disrespectful, but shortly the human Melvix made his entrance, and then the other human Sagaree, who both took a seat at the table with the High Council members. Savitri noticed a place at the table where there was no chair, and assumed that it was for her. But instead of taking it she wandered over to the two humans, who looked friendly enough, especially compared to the elf.

“It is a pleasure to meet you both,” she said, dipping her head slightly.

“Queen Savitri!” Melvix exclaimed, standing to bow respectfully. Sagaree rose to do the same.

“Do you know who else we are waiting for?” Sagaree asked.

“Yes,” Savitri said. She had been sure to be well-informed. “There is still the Agmarion elf, the Andaratian human, and the Pyradian dwarf.”

“Correct,” Melvix beamed. “Ésmaril Jumara, Gentle Weep of the Willow Tree, and Thorik Von Holstheim.”

Savitri was pleased with the man’s sharp memory. Before she could compliment him, however, the page announced the newest guest.
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Sheytato says...

❁ Gentle Weep of the Willow Tree ❁

Gentle Weep of the Willow Tree stood before the Andaratian council, who sat around a long oval table. Before her was the seven most powerful and authoritative figures in Andarat, and they very well could be some of the strongest people on the planet. They had called for her. The reason was unknown to Willow, but it was clear this council had plans for her, judging from the intense looks they were giving her. She took a deep breath and lowered her head in a half-bow. "You called for me?"

The King of Andarat, sitting at the end of the table, looked at her with serious eyes, commanding for her to raise her head. She complied. "Gentle Weep of the Willow Tree," he started, "You have been summoned to our council meeting chambers to be given a mission, a quest."

Willow raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the claim.

"You are to report to Ranning, before the High Council of Ranning. They have requested each nation send one representative from each major nation, so that they may create a strong fellowship. We of the Andaratian Council have selected you to represent our country, as well as every minor tribe and village within our land. Should you accept, you must be at Ranning by nightfall."

"If you don't mind my asking," Willow cautiously asked. "What exactly is this fellowship to do?"

Another member of the council spoke, rising from her seat. "The fellowship is to fight and prevent a war."

Willow hesitated. "Is that it?"

"That is all they told us, yes."

"Willow," said the king. "Do you choose to accept this mission."

She bowed her head and lowered herself to her knees. "Yes, your highness. I shall report to Ranning immediately." With that, she spun aroundand left for the stables, so that she could begin the ride to Ranning.

In my eyes, all potatoes are equal.

...Except sweet potatoes.


Formerly Sheyren, Sheyren, and even once I was Sheyren

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