Wrong.

Everything is wrong here.
So very wrong.

I can’t think straight. I can barely breathe. The horror and anger and anguish are like knives in my heart.

These …. people.. I can’t call them elves right now. They’ve renounced all that it means to BE an elf. I PRAY that these people have been under some kind of sway. That they didn’t realize exactly what it is they had done.

But I am not hopeful. I can’t focus on that right now. I can’t allow my horror and anger to overshadow me. I am thankful that Tobias is here by my side. He’s the only thing keeping me grounded at the moment. I wonder if this is how Shalev felt.. upon hearing news of his father’s murder?

I found out why my druidic powers have no hold here. The terrible reason why.

The only thing that remains now is him. THEM. The tree. I must do what I can to save them both.

But I am rambling. Let me try to make sense of my thoughts.

.oOo..oOo.

Still in the city of Tir na’Friar, we had about a month before the Great Court was to happen. The party and I used that time to continue helping Matron with her lands, to practice and hone skills, and to discover what I could about what to expect with the Great Ritual.

She seemed uncomfortable at my asking, and was noticeably tight-lipped about this “ritual” and what it entailed. It made me uneasy, and wary. The more I talked to her, the stronger the sense of “something isn’t right here” showed through.

Determined to see what the ritual was for myself, I commissioned a dress suitable for such an occasion. The seamstress I commissioned made me a beautiful gown out of ocean blue raw silk, with silver trim. She asked what the motif should be, and I requested arboreal, which caused her to pause and look at me in an odd way. She then murmured something about how the Great Court hadn’t been “properly scandalized” in a long time, and then informed me that it would be ready in a week.
Four days later the summons arrived for Matron, and the invite arrived for Tobias and I, stating that the court would convene in three days’ time. The rest of the party was not to attend, as they were not elves.

Matron grew more tense, and more quiet, as the time for the ritual grew closer; and I began to urgently get the sense that I would not like what I was about to witness.

I was right.

We were escorted up to the inner circle of the city, and I knew. I knew as soon as I stepped foot inside that scorched circle of earth. I knew in a heartbeat why my connection to the Sacred was lost here. I knew in an eyeblink what I had begun to suspect, but couldn’t dare believe that any elf would do. But I was so very wrong. The moment I saw it, I began praying. Not knowing if my god and goddess could hear me or not. Not knowing if they cared. But I prayed. I prayed for help. For something.. for anything..

In the center of the blackened ring of earth and ash, grew a young sylvan tree. No more than a sapling, and a yearling at that. Vibrant and healthy and alive.

The royal family began the ritual by stating that this was, and had been, a yearly tradition. Was “who they were” and “who they would be”. They denounced everything about the old ways. Renounced all that they are. Claimed that the right to be free led them to this. That the wish to work with metals of the earth like… like dwarves or gnomes, was more important to them than their connection to the Wellspring. That their safety and ability to blend in and remain “quiet” was more important to them than being a part of nature and balance.

To my growing horror, they loudly proclaimed that, in an act of complete revolt, they entombed their ruler – an immortal, one of my kind, that I have never heard of – in the earth below, so that he could continue to watch the desecration of the tree year after year.

The tree has old roots. Over 500 years. It will not die. Not like this. But it will burn.

Then they burned it.

They burned a living thing. A Sylvan tree. Alive.
Each of the families threw a torch on the growing pyre, and watched without compassion as it burned to the ground. It was all I could do not to start screaming then.

Even Matron, although she glanced at me with sorrow in her eyes, and tossed her torch far to the side, so it would not land among the conflagration. I noticed. I refused. I dropped the torch I was given at my feet, although looking back, a stronger message would have been to put it out entirely.

I spoke in quiet tones to Matron as the citizens of the city began bringing their grievances to the leading family. Like HUMANS. Everything here is so WRONG.

I implored her.. WHY. Why do this? Why participate in something she knew in her heart was wrong. She said that she had become accustomed to the safety of knowing they wouldn’t be attacked, because the energy doesn’t resonate here.

NOT AN EXCUSE. This tree deserves LIFE, NOT DESTRUCTION. Doing nothing is still an action, and it’s still WRONG. She knows it.

I was blazing angry, and verging on actual tears.
Tobias, growing increasingly alarmed, and increasingly horrified by what he saw, put himself at my back, and began trying to calm me down.

I looked at Matron.

HELP ME. Is all I said.

and she agreed. Lord and Lady bless her, she did. She made it appear as if I had put some kind of control over her, and she walked to the center of the fire ring, and then cast a spell of wind. The wind gathered and gathered, much like the winds before a sandstorm from home, but with more deliberate intent. The torches all went out one by one, and the bonfire in the center was twisted up in the vortex and extinguished. The sparks and embers floated off into the air, and over the city, but I paid them no heed.

Once the fire was out, she collapsed as if unconscious, and was immediately protected by two of the other families. I’m glad to know that she is – for the moment at least – unharmed and safe.
I ran over to the center, where the burned root of the sapling was exposed, and I grabbed it hoping to feel some spark of life.

What I felt was hatred. Burning, writhing hatred coming from an eight eyed enemy. “Lloth” I breathed with dread, and Tobias heard me.

My immediate thought was that whatever was down there.. whatever they had buried, was not elf. Was something far.. far worse. and that the tree itself had been corrupted.

The head family demanded why the ritual was interrupted, threatening to see “just how immortal I really was”, causing Tobias to bristle noticeably… and I confronted them. What have you done?! I shouted. Why do you do this!? You’ve denied everything it is to be an elf, in exchange for what?! You’ve corrupted the wellspring, and you desecrate something sacred just because you CAN?! Spring time rituals are supposed to be about renewal. About a restatement of life, and health and vitality.
Instead you made it a celebration of everything opposite. You wonder at the lack of children here. You whisper about the feel of decay. You’re blind and you’ve condemned this entire city by cutting yourselves off from all that you ARE. From all that you COULD BE.

They remained unmoved, and threatened to throw me down there with whatever it was they entombed.

Tobias, at that point, began thinking out loud, because he sensed that the tree itself was still holy, and NOT corrupted. He spoke about Lloth, and the drow, and how there was SOMETHING down there that was unholy, and completely so.

He somehow managed to get them to open the tomb, revealing the immortal ruler they had imprisoned, and much to everyone else’s surprise, an underground road leading just beneath the city.

How far does Lloth’s influence reach? How much has she corrupted these people.

What I saw.. dear Lord and Lady, how COULD THEY.

An immortal, undoubtedly, and one I should know.. although I don’t know why.
Chained to a wall.
With the roots of the tree itself growing THROUGH his emaciated body.

Dear gods, that means he not only witnessed. HE FELT. HE FELT IT BURN. EVERY TIME.

I can’t.. I can barely..

HOW COULD THEY.

WHO DID THIS?

I all but screamed out wordlessly. Knowing Tobias would protect me, I climbed down into the tomb to confirm what I knew already, with an unspeakable terror.

He was still alive.

As I grew near to his withered form, it became easier to see for some reason. Then I glanced down to find my necklace.. the pendant that I’ve worn for so long.. was … glowing.

and the crown that he wore on his head was glowing. They matched. The symbols match.

He is ..

there’s something wrong with my memory. There’s a block that I can sense now. Deliberately placed within my mind, that means that I can not remember. I do not know who he is, or who I am in relation. He could be my father. My brother. My son?

As I grew nearer to him, I reached out to touch him gently, and his eyes opened. They stared blindly, and he began screaming. Or.. trying to scream with what remained of his throat.

I did scream then. Long and loud and full of wordless horror, and ran to his side.

So many questions.

So many unanswered questions.

and such… revulsion. That my own kind could do this to someone else.

and potentially MY family. I thought them all dead. Maybe that memory is a fabrication itself.

I can’t know.. I won’t know..

and I can’t think.

Away for far too long

One of the downsides to being in seclusion for as long as I have been, is learning to be among society again.
Of the 7 immortals, I am unique in that I voluntarily venture out among civilizations from time to time.

Once our time in the mining city of Grolsh was complete, we continued on the road towards the library, and it was with a happy sigh that I left that enclosing city of stone. After about a week of uneventful travel, we came upon the city of Tir na' Friar. An elven settlement. City. Beautiful as it is, with its curving wooden structures and shining layan gates, it is still very much a city.

We were stopped on the road before we reached the gates by a patrol of guards with weapons drawn. I lowered my hood, and let myself be seen; motioning for Tobias to follow suit, and reveal the Imperial layan armor that he wears. They asked, somewhat pointedly, why I travelled with such company. I introduced my companions with honor that they deserve;
Ishmael - Renowned Weaponsmith and metallurgist
Tobias - consort and Imperial guard
Lan - Avatar of Leilanna
Kellyn - the Archmage
Fife - Swordmaster
and Shalev - my accepted student, and paladin of Ma'at; and his animal companion Amit

and said that I had agreed to help them with various quests. They were less hostile after that, and offered  us escort into the city, which we  accepted graciously. I mentioned that it had been quite a long time since I had the opportunity to be in a city of my people, and requested advice on acquiring a place to stay for the length of time needed to rest and resupply.

They gave me a basic introduction to the city layout, and then said that I could request hospitality from the 4th tier of the city.
We entered the city at that point, and explored the craftsman's circle, where I commissioned a new set of leather armor that would not affect my dexterity and movement when worn. The leather worker there agreed to the commission, and said that it would be ready in two days. After that, we continued on toward the 4th Tier, and once there, I approached a group to inquire about hospitality.

Have I been out of civilization for so long, that my own people no longer recognize me? Apparently so. The elves here are very young. Young enough to have either never heard the stories, or perhaps they simply paid them no heed. One of them called me "grandmother", although I am not certain if it was meant derisively or not.

I requested direction to a quiet place for my companions and I to stay for a space of time, and one of them lead us to a rather run down looking house on the edge of the tier. Again, I caught a hint of implied insult from the youngsters, but ignored it as the childish thing that it was.

 The woman who owned the house is named Ma'tron Pon Mar, and she graciously accepted us into her home. She is stooped with age, although she is only 150 or so, and seems... fragile. I forget that I am unique in my agelessness. (hmph. Grandmother indeed.) Her house and lands were in obvious need of repair, and she just as obviously wasn't capable of doing it herself.

I spoke with my companions and requested that, as thanks for opening her home to us, that we work together to improve her lot as much as we could. Tobias, Fife, Shalev, and Ishmael immediately set to work on repairing and cleaning her house. Lan, Kellyn, and I worked on the yards and the gardens.

I inquired about her injury, and asked if she would allow Lan to see if there was something that we could do to heal her. She agreed, and Lan was able to cast a spell that helped to straighten her spine and allow her to move freely again. A healing draught took care of any residual injury, and she is once again whole, much to her delight.

As work continued on the house and lands, I spent many moments conversing with Ma'tron over tea about old stories and legends. Tea! At last I have tea. It's a comfort to me, and something familiar. Shalev and I both were able to take a handful of cuttings from the bushes in her gardens as we worked to bring the gardens back to some semblance of order. It will be a challenge to keep them strong and alive so that we may replant them elsewhere, and another challenge to see if they will flourish in the desert climes that Shalev and I are used to.

Strange though, that here in the gardens, my druidry has no effect. I tried to cast a simple spell to make the gardens healthy, only to have it fail. This is troubling to me, and I need to spend some time in meditation to find out why I was not able to do this, or what might have interfered. I worry that I will not be able to do anything further with this until I can discern why.

During their repairs, Tobias, Ishmael, and Shalev discovered some extensive damage to the outer walls of the house, and they trekked into town to see if they could arrange for a trade of materials to help with the refitting of the house. Elven cities are traditionally trade based, and do not often deal with money as the humans do.
Shalev was able to trade some cooking spices for the lumber required, and it was delivered to the house later that day. Amusingly enough, by the same youngster who (insultingly perhaps?) lead us to stay here in the first place. He looked surprised, and a little abashed. Perhaps he learned a valuable lesson here, although time will tell.

Kellyn requested that I ask about the presence of a library here, and Ma'tron opened her home further to us, showing her personal library, where the records of her travels with her husband were kept. It came to light that Ma'tron and her husband were at one time adventurers of some renown, and that her husband was .... other. Not human, nor elf, and Kellyn suspects possibly even a dragon. To ask or suggest such a thing would be terribly uncouth, however, so the mystery of what her husband is or was will remain. In their travels, they searched for artifacts and items of power, as well as learning to create said things. Ma'tron herself was... IS.. a mage, and a powerful one. This captured Kellyn's intense interest, as Ma'tron gives off no sense of magics whatsoever, and the two were soon lost in conversations about magic and Fyrewerian. Kellyn agreed to teach Ma'tron what little of Fyrewerian that she could while we were here.

Shalev inquired about trading his compass Leah-noa for a magical blade, and was promptly handed the layan-bladed greatsword that hung proudly on the wall in Ma'tron's library. He took it with awe, reverence, and a little disbelief, and spent quite some time simply looking at the blade. There are a few other items of interest in her library - namely the mage's staff, which Kellyn is quite obviously interested in; and a green-dragon scaled shield.

We will be here for a while longer, I think, as there is much to learn from Ma'tron, and I am quite enjoying her company. She mentioned, in our tea time conversations, that there is a Great Court to be held in a month's time. I would be interested in staying for this, as if I am indeed, back in the civilized world, it would probably be expected of me in any case. I've been out of the world for far too long. It's time to make myself known again. I will need to visit the clothier to see about having proper attire made for me to attend a High Court function.

While we are here, we will continue to help improve her home and her land, as much as we are able to do so. It's the least we can do for her hospitality, and for the knowledge that she has - and will potentially - share with us. Perhaps she can even shed some light on the objectives we currently have? We shall see.

In the mean time, I will continue to look forward to our tea time conversations, and simply being among other elves for a time.