01/07/2021 Ascension. Faust Greyheart
Jul 3, 2021 11:16:45 GMT
Merla, the Daughter of Summer, Jaezred Vandree, and 2 more like this
Post by WillJ on Jul 3, 2021 11:16:45 GMT
My beloved Margret,
They say you cannot teach an old dog new tricks, but I am determined to learn this one thing. I will not be venturing into the Feywild again. My third (and count on it final) visit echoed the first two. Death, destruction and mayhem. I am not that naive my darling as to think that violence isn't sometimes necessary. But for all the saturated colours, fanciful magics and imaginary divisions; this whole catastrophe seems to have boiled down to a fight for a throne. Few I have met in that chaotic realm have thoughts for any but themselves.
Not that it started that way. It was hugely promising when the call came out for Dawnlands adventurers to both witness and protect a peaceful summit to decide upon the next Fey Ascendant (after a lengthy conversation with Lady Merla it appears she was not eligible for this duty). That the Fey both acknowledged the benefit of third parties being present and looked for guarantees of peace from the presence of powerful figures like Ghesh, Arkadius and Lord Jaezred filled me with hope. We assembled on neutral ground, a large pleasant green bowl of earth under a gentle sun. After greeting many new faces and some familiar old ones, we spread out and kept our eyes out for unwanted guests or 'shenanigans' from attendees.
As the Archfey assembled and began speaking, I was distracted by a group of pixies, who were drunkenly trying to sneak into the centre of the area. As I scooped them up and carried them gently to the edge, the words of Queen Titania, Nicnevin and Morinn rang out clear as day. Simple declarations before the complex and heartbreakingly beautiful music took shape, voting apparently through the form of this wordless tune. But as I set down the inebriated little scamps, the song turned foul and discordant. I turned back; shadowy figures had appeared and were assaulting the assembled masses. Screaming, shouting, smoke and death. I found myself stood next to Duke Tolven of the Autumn court and he protects a small number of us as he ushers us through a portal to his realm. Stepping through with Varga, Velania, Sorrel and Breeze we find that the chaos is not contained within the neutral ground but has reached the courts.
Some unspecified corruption has taken root here in the court of Autumn, festering in pools beneath the mighty trees that soar into the firmament. Spread out like this the venerable Duke does not think he can purify its contamination. We set about drawing the poison from other pools into a central mass by the large tree like creature whose calm certainty gives me hope. A hope that is quickly replaced by mild panic. Having successfully moved the corruptions into a single large pool it begins to take form. An oily, mass of sludgy arms, an almost beetle like appearance. It thunders towards us and begins swinging wildly at Varga and Velania. Standing firm it is clear that my companions have become stronger since our first adventures together. With determined faces (and an unsurprising grin from Varga) they fight back.
I am ashamed to say that fear got the better of me, I stepped behind Tolven's massive form for protection and hid as the rest of the team threw arrows, axes and bolts of mighty radiant energy. I could only watch and try and keep my friends alive with what little healing magic I possess. As my friends do damage to this beast it starts to lose some of its many arms, oily clumps falling into the water where they are quickly neutralised by Tolven's magics. However, with each spell aimed at it, the creature shifts and changes, hardening its shell and fighting with renewed vigour. Ashamed by my cowardice I stumble forward, throwing insults in an attempt to get it to leave us and these innocent creatures alone. It backs off momentarily, just as an Archfey appears beside us, couched in a throne of water and metal. I rejoice; surely this powerful being will support us in our fight, after all it is the whole Feywild that is under assault. The corruption lunges forwards and its massive arms reach out for me.
I fall to black but it is only a few seconds before Breeze's words float through the darkness and bring me back to consciousness. I see Sorrel standing over me, protecting me with her own body, her rapier slashing back and forth. Stumbling to my feet the new Archfey (which I have by now deduced is the one called Ulorian, although Lady Merla never says that name without a string of rather unpleasant expletives) is splashed by some of the ooze and in a fit of pique vanishes without helping one jot!
I use my magics to send a tirade of abuse, willing him to do better and not run away from people in need. He replies with absolutely zero remorse. Clearly Lady Merla is right about his character. As this happens Velania throws another bolt of light that rebounds from the creature's hide, hitting her with a painful flash. Sorrel steps forward and with two sweeping blows carves an X in the creature, it shudders, cries out and dissolves into the water. Lacking its physical form it is no match for Duke Tolven who quickly purifies the water. As we return to the place of ascension cut and battered (although thanks to Breeze's magic surprisingly clean) we see other groups stepping through portals, each having supported fighting in other courts.
Archfey and Dawnlanders stand side by side gathering their breath and counting the cost. Still incensed by the audacity of Ulorian to not assist, I cast my magics into the sky and call him a coward for all to see. In retrospect a moment of poor judgement, as he appears but moments later and as the crowd parts he fixes me with a gaze that leaves me in no doubt of his power. If he willed it there would be little I could do to stop him.
The gathered fey offer around instruments for the mortals standing by them, offering a chance to vote in the ascendancy to which we were but bystanders moments before. I take out my old violin and add my skills to the court of summer. But the giant queen Nicnevin is victorious and declared the Fey Ascendant. As she takes a seat in a massive throne, the others accept with good grace and the formalities begin. I begin to wander the crowds, looking for a way to the material plane, but also meeting so many adventurers whose names I have previously only heard in tales. Wonderful each and every one, there are even a few offers of assistance should Ulorian decide I am worth teaching a lesson too. I pray it does not come to that.
I remain yours, always.
They say you cannot teach an old dog new tricks, but I am determined to learn this one thing. I will not be venturing into the Feywild again. My third (and count on it final) visit echoed the first two. Death, destruction and mayhem. I am not that naive my darling as to think that violence isn't sometimes necessary. But for all the saturated colours, fanciful magics and imaginary divisions; this whole catastrophe seems to have boiled down to a fight for a throne. Few I have met in that chaotic realm have thoughts for any but themselves.
Not that it started that way. It was hugely promising when the call came out for Dawnlands adventurers to both witness and protect a peaceful summit to decide upon the next Fey Ascendant (after a lengthy conversation with Lady Merla it appears she was not eligible for this duty). That the Fey both acknowledged the benefit of third parties being present and looked for guarantees of peace from the presence of powerful figures like Ghesh, Arkadius and Lord Jaezred filled me with hope. We assembled on neutral ground, a large pleasant green bowl of earth under a gentle sun. After greeting many new faces and some familiar old ones, we spread out and kept our eyes out for unwanted guests or 'shenanigans' from attendees.
As the Archfey assembled and began speaking, I was distracted by a group of pixies, who were drunkenly trying to sneak into the centre of the area. As I scooped them up and carried them gently to the edge, the words of Queen Titania, Nicnevin and Morinn rang out clear as day. Simple declarations before the complex and heartbreakingly beautiful music took shape, voting apparently through the form of this wordless tune. But as I set down the inebriated little scamps, the song turned foul and discordant. I turned back; shadowy figures had appeared and were assaulting the assembled masses. Screaming, shouting, smoke and death. I found myself stood next to Duke Tolven of the Autumn court and he protects a small number of us as he ushers us through a portal to his realm. Stepping through with Varga, Velania, Sorrel and Breeze we find that the chaos is not contained within the neutral ground but has reached the courts.
Some unspecified corruption has taken root here in the court of Autumn, festering in pools beneath the mighty trees that soar into the firmament. Spread out like this the venerable Duke does not think he can purify its contamination. We set about drawing the poison from other pools into a central mass by the large tree like creature whose calm certainty gives me hope. A hope that is quickly replaced by mild panic. Having successfully moved the corruptions into a single large pool it begins to take form. An oily, mass of sludgy arms, an almost beetle like appearance. It thunders towards us and begins swinging wildly at Varga and Velania. Standing firm it is clear that my companions have become stronger since our first adventures together. With determined faces (and an unsurprising grin from Varga) they fight back.
I am ashamed to say that fear got the better of me, I stepped behind Tolven's massive form for protection and hid as the rest of the team threw arrows, axes and bolts of mighty radiant energy. I could only watch and try and keep my friends alive with what little healing magic I possess. As my friends do damage to this beast it starts to lose some of its many arms, oily clumps falling into the water where they are quickly neutralised by Tolven's magics. However, with each spell aimed at it, the creature shifts and changes, hardening its shell and fighting with renewed vigour. Ashamed by my cowardice I stumble forward, throwing insults in an attempt to get it to leave us and these innocent creatures alone. It backs off momentarily, just as an Archfey appears beside us, couched in a throne of water and metal. I rejoice; surely this powerful being will support us in our fight, after all it is the whole Feywild that is under assault. The corruption lunges forwards and its massive arms reach out for me.
I fall to black but it is only a few seconds before Breeze's words float through the darkness and bring me back to consciousness. I see Sorrel standing over me, protecting me with her own body, her rapier slashing back and forth. Stumbling to my feet the new Archfey (which I have by now deduced is the one called Ulorian, although Lady Merla never says that name without a string of rather unpleasant expletives) is splashed by some of the ooze and in a fit of pique vanishes without helping one jot!
I use my magics to send a tirade of abuse, willing him to do better and not run away from people in need. He replies with absolutely zero remorse. Clearly Lady Merla is right about his character. As this happens Velania throws another bolt of light that rebounds from the creature's hide, hitting her with a painful flash. Sorrel steps forward and with two sweeping blows carves an X in the creature, it shudders, cries out and dissolves into the water. Lacking its physical form it is no match for Duke Tolven who quickly purifies the water. As we return to the place of ascension cut and battered (although thanks to Breeze's magic surprisingly clean) we see other groups stepping through portals, each having supported fighting in other courts.
Archfey and Dawnlanders stand side by side gathering their breath and counting the cost. Still incensed by the audacity of Ulorian to not assist, I cast my magics into the sky and call him a coward for all to see. In retrospect a moment of poor judgement, as he appears but moments later and as the crowd parts he fixes me with a gaze that leaves me in no doubt of his power. If he willed it there would be little I could do to stop him.
The gathered fey offer around instruments for the mortals standing by them, offering a chance to vote in the ascendancy to which we were but bystanders moments before. I take out my old violin and add my skills to the court of summer. But the giant queen Nicnevin is victorious and declared the Fey Ascendant. As she takes a seat in a massive throne, the others accept with good grace and the formalities begin. I begin to wander the crowds, looking for a way to the material plane, but also meeting so many adventurers whose names I have previously only heard in tales. Wonderful each and every one, there are even a few offers of assistance should Ulorian decide I am worth teaching a lesson too. I pray it does not come to that.
I remain yours, always.