In reply to DM (msg # 13):

.
Krackor was amused at the surprise on Dorians face when the scout appeared from the trees, to him, it meant the scout was doing their job properly.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:06, Fri 24 May 2019.

OOC: Wouldn't splitting up constitute a side, side jaunt?  I'm content with staying together.

Corym spoke to Krackor, Dorian, and Katarn away from the hearing of the Scout.

“Bristar is the village where all the Myth Drannor survivors are. If we miss this opportunity, it will be Spring or Summer before we can have another try at it. Though Deepingdale is said to have a great Sage, this information seems to be unique. Having the right information can be the difference between success and failure. In Myth Drannor, failure is not something one recovers from easily.

If you would prefer, Elorfindar and I can abide and see what may be found, and we can catch up to you in Highmoon.”

In reply to Corym Ildroun (msg # 16):

OOC:  I'm sure someone told Krackor about what had gone on in Glen and the Sage, I am working on this basis.

Since the Sage in Glen is Elven and he specialises in Creatures and Arcane, I would have thought he had been and spoken with those in Bristar, up to you though.

Krackor wasn't for or against such an action.

“From what Dorian related it seems his studies on Myth Drannor and Cormanthor parallel my own—academic and abstract. Indeed he seemed more interested in learning what we learn through experience rather than supplying us with much knowledge of his own. We will consult with him again before we go, but he represented himself as a master of Arcane and Alchemical knowledge, not of history or archaeology. In speaking with someone who actually walked the living streets of the city we might be able to discern the names and natures of some of those grand building we saw that were still intact. Or the lay of the roads. Or any number of more practical matters which scribes, saves, and historians would regard as mere minutiae, but which may guide our efforts or save our lives.”

“Doubtless, though, his knowledge of the local Magics, Flora, and Fauna—both natural and otherwise will prove invaluable. I still think that what may be gained here, though more mundane, could prove just as valuable.”

“If my thoughts seem meritless, I will postpone my visit to Bristar for a season or two. It is possible that the Sage of Highmoon could accommodate us equally and we would all be welcome. How think you all on this?”
This message was last edited by the player at 20:39, Sun 26 May 2019.

Katarn waggled his head, "I know why people need ta keep places secret though I don't like missin' a new trail, I say go on. See what ye can learn from Talathel's folk 'n meet us back up. I kin lead the lot of us either back ta th' barge or elsewhere. Whatever the group wants."

In reply to Corym Ildroun (msg # 18):

Your thoughts are sound Corym. Could always return if what you learn needs supplimented at a later time.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 23:44, Wed 29 May 2019.

Dorian nodded toward his companions "We will not dally." he heads off to join the other Elves.

Corym smiles and sets to join Dorian and Elorfindar.

In the elven forest, Sirenya didn't care if the elves go off alone. She liked the dwarves, noisy as they tended to be, and the stray human was pretty quiet, for someone her size. "Lets go back to the river, if we're going to wait," she suggested.

The journey had been delightfully pleasant, so far, and she wasn't inclined to let sneaky elves put a damper on it.

Watching the group split wasn't an issue for him, he had faith that if something went wrong, he would know about it and if that happened whilst with the Elves in their secret forest, he was sure he would find a way to get to them or they would have help.

Excellent idea Sirenya.  I have these ingredients to look out for too, just hope I can recognise them.

Elven Side Jaunt

The scout leads the three of you deeper into the forest. At first you're worried that he'll take to the trees again; they're certainly large enough and closely packed to allow for movement through the branches. Fortunately, that doesn't happen. Unfortunately, soon after leaving the rest of the group Talathel and the scout start to run. And they don't stop running.

Through the rest of the day and the entire night you run to the west. You're not entirely certain whether the other elves are trying to lose you, or are eager to get home, or whether this is typical for the elves of Deepingdale. Suffice it to say that Elorfindar very quickly comes to thank the ring of constitution you found back in your first adventures.

After about a bell of running you encounter a fast-moving stream. You've returned to the Glaemril, and most of your run takes place along its somewhat more open banks. The sun rises behind you as you continue to run and stumble forward. Before the day advances too much further, you finally reach your destination.

The village of Velethuil, called Bristar by the humans, is a tree town built along green elven sensibilities. All of the buildings are built into and around the trunks of massive oak, chime oak, and shadowtop trees. They're so well camouflaged that if you weren't paying attention, and the village's people weren't out and about, you could walk through without noticing.

Talathel's arrival at first isn't much remarked upon, but as the scout spreads word about what happened more and more people start converging on him. Bristar's people seem to be a mix of moon and green elves, and wear comfortable clothing designed to fade into the forest. Talathel's brother and sister lead him away to the family home, thanking you for bringing him home safely.

An old green elven woman, her black hair heavily streaked with silver, comes over to you. "Beluar told us that you wanted to speak with the elders. Well, I'm one of them. We appreciate you bringing the boy home. We don't get many visitors here. What would you have of us?"

Corym wondered at the vitality of the guides and the roughness of the terrain.  He found it difficult to understand why Bristar had politically affiliated with Deepingdale. Who could even find them to threaten their sovereignty?

Corym marveled at the verdant beauty that he found all the same to be threatening and a little oppressive.  So dense--so many places to hide.



"There are multiple matters, elder."

"The three of us hail from Evereska, but seem like we will be here in Cormanthor for sometime.  I felt it important to present ourselves to the last and best organized successor of Cormanthyr.  I am Corym Ildroun, and my family of old dwelled in Myth Drannor, then the Elven Court after the Fall.  My father moved to Evereska to raise his family and was estranged from the rest of the Clan. I know not whether any of our kindred still abide in these lands--but if any would know, the Elders of Velethuil would.  Moreover, as this land is the land of my fathers, I it is necessary to pay my respects to the community."

Corym pauses to let the other two introduce themselves before continuing.

"The second matter is one which I know of a fact that you are uniquely capable of helping us with if you are so inclined.  Dorian fears that we were all deposited in Myth Drannor by a hidden threat.  The Sage of Glen presumes that is was a matter of malfunctioning Gates.  Though I am not a deeply religious fellow, I see in it the hand of the gods--there is too much that seems ideally suited for the situation, those their ends are yet obscured.  One of those many circumstances that seem to defy chance or enmity was Talathel Eoleth's presence and his connection to this community.  Talathel's mind shattered almost instantaneously upon his arrival in the ruined city--a consequence of having violated a taboo imposed by his grandfather.  Over many days in Glen I examined him and tried to rouse his mental stability, and while I did so I found in his thoughts that there are many Myth Drannan survivors here in Velethuil.

All of us agree that we must return, either to identify our foe, or to plumb the depths of a magical mystery, but I believe that we have a destiny to fulfill.  And yet, an arrow without a target seldom hits the mark.  I thought that if we could speak to these who once walked the streets of the city that we may find some glimmer of our future in their recollections."

Corym pauses briefly before moving to the third point, "Elder, the last matter of concern is this: The City of Song has been found by human plunderers, and they have--even now--endeavored to claim the treasures and disturb the bones of our fathers.  We hid from a large and heavily outfitted band as they passed toward the city.  They moved with certainty, as if they had been there before.  My father was a Fellow of the Forgotten Flower.  If there is any relic or heirloom we might retrieve for the community here before it falls into the hands of men, we would know if it so that we can safeguard it against their incursions."

Dorian enjoyed the run.  A good chase left the head clear and the blood flowing.  In ancient times he pictured his deep ancestors laughing and whopping as they sprinted after deer or rabbits.  But such times are long passed.

Dorian examined the Elder and the village and noted the less than friendly reception.  These were not a people used to the courtly manner of Evereska, nor did they care.

Dorian nodded respectfully "I am Dorian, a Greycloak of Evereska."

"'Best organized survivor of Myth Drannor?'" the elder scoffs. "Have you eyes, boy? We stayed away from the Court even before the cowards left. If you have something you want from us, just say it."

She glances over her shoulder at Talathel, who is being led up a ladder into one of the tree houses. Her face is grim as she turns back. "Myth Drannor. Haven't enough of the People been broken and butchered in that cursed ruin? Are you so eager to add yourselves to that toll?

"Aye, I visited its streets once or twice in my youth. A few others lived there. But that city has caused us nothing but pain. Why should we let it cause us any more?"

The Non-Elven Group

The walk back out of the forest is more relaxing than your walk in. You're heading out of the deep, dark woods, and while you're not walking along the Glaemril's banks the entire time, you can usually hear the river off to one side. It's a comforting distant babble, reassuring you that you haven't gotten completely lost.

It also gives you a chance to appreciate Katarn's skills. The dwarven priest leads you with a quiet confidence, never once hesitating about the correct direction. The trail you made coming into the forest isn't always easy to see, but he never loses sight of it.

Two days later you come crest a roll in the forest and see ahead of you the treeline. The sunlight is a bright curtain tinged with green, and below you is the barge. Two of the crew are walking around it, checking the hull. One of them raises a hand in greeting as you arrive. "Captain's still in Highmoon getting the cargo together. She should be coming back in another day or two." He looks you over. "The elves decide to stay in Bristar?"

Kora leans against the side of the barge, massaging her legs. "Highmoon's supposed to be a nice town. And it has inns. Who's up for going?"

Krackor decided it would be remiss of him to let Kora in a tavern without supervision.
you still got some learning to do mistress lightbearer, I'll join you

Without hesitation Corym responds, "Fraternity.  Nothing more or less than what would pass between brethren in good spirits."



"It was my understanding that in the main the People had avoided the butchering by closing their eyes and imagining that it had gone away. Whether destiny or fate, my future lies there.  I will walk those streets, I would rather do so with the best knowledge of the People when I do.  But if I must do so in ignorance, I will."



"Because now that the humans know where it is, the pain will come no matter what you do.  If they can find Myth Drannor, they will find 'Bristar' when their curiosity and greed become bold enough." He specifically uses the human name for their village, now. "When they come, will they come with the blades and Art of our fathers stolen from their graves with strength in their limbs gained by dancing with fiends? What hope then? What escape from pain then? Only the escape of the Elven Court--to flee to a farther land and hope that the humans won't find you there. To shiver in the night at the thought of the years that come and the hairy hands that will rule them." 

Corym takes a breath. "We must come to terms with our neighbors.  But if we treat them like children and hide from their eyes and tell them that they can look but not touch our wonderful toys, then they will become our enemies. Their curiosity and avarice will be justified, and they will take what they want and call it justice.  That is why that band was marching into the city--because they know what was denied them, hidden from them, and now that the guards have flown, they go to take it.  The trouble they stir, the beasts they unleash, and the weapons of steel and spells they acquire will shake the world."

"We do not ask for you to accompany us, nor any of your kin.  But we go.  I have read in books, but I don't know what it means to 'access the Mythal' or why the elves of Myth Drannor could fly, or what it meant that 'no life was lost like leaves again.'  It is possible that we will die from our choices.  All have accepted that.  Will you let us die because of ignorance that you could cure?  When the cure costs nothing and risks nothing?  If you know of a spell or book or sword that ought to be kept from the plundering hands of adventuring bands, will you not even apprise us of it?  Dorian is a Greycloak, and I wore that cloak too when we drove horrors and humans from Hills to substantiate the will of the Hill Elders.  For our people we are prepared to make sacrifices, and have made sacrifices.  I am here to say that you are my people, that there is One Father, and his blood runs in our veins.  I am here to say that when I swore a life of service to the People, it wasn't just the ones that live in the hills or in the West, and it wasn't just for the ones that wanted me to."

"It wasn't an accident that put us there.  It certainly wasn't an accident that put me there. So we're going back. I'm going back.  If my going back can help the People, whether of Evermeet, Evereska, or Velethuil, then that is my desire.  Help me to be a river to my People.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:50, Sat 08 June 2019.

"Tell that to Sembia, which invaded Cormanthor long after Myth Drannor fell and is doing so again." The elder spits to one side. "Tell that to Archendale, which burned and butchered a neighboring dale and salted the earth. There is no peace to be had with the humans as a race, only with rare individuals. If you're so eager to stick your head under the knife, so be it. Anything you get out is one less for grasping human hands."

She shakes her head. "I don't know why you're asking an old woman about mythal lore. No one knew anything, and those who did didn't say. You were supposed to find out yourself. I know that enchantments don't work, and that no one was supposed to summon anything inside city limits. As for flying, well, you could do that just by thinking. But that power failed even before the city fell.

"You can... feel it. In the back of your head. Her eyes unfocus and she stares off into nothing. "Like someone humming in the distance that you don't hear until you hear. If you know how to do something, you do it." She shrugs. "I was never a wizard; I don't have the words for it."

Dorian asked "Is there someone here more versed in Myth Drannor that would be willing to speak with us?"

"We have come a long way to make ourselves knowledgeable about our expedition, it would be remiss of us if we did not speak with as many as we can on this matter."

The old woman shrugs. "Why not? It's a cold day, it's not like we have anything else to do. Might as well pick at old wounds. Follow me."

She leads you into the center of the village and up a hidden ladder built into the bark of a massive oak tree. Fifty feet above the forest floor is a multi-story house, built around two thirds of the trunk and incorporating several large branches as supports. The elder pushes through an entry closed with a thick curtain of deer hide.

Following inside, you discover that the tree house's ceiling is barely six feet above the floor. This story is a single long, curving room, about seven feet deep but more than twelve long. It is simultaneously airy and somewhat cramped, with several slit windows whose leather curtains have been raised to let in light.

Seated around a table to the right of the door are two more old elves: a green elven male and a moon elven female. They look up as the elder you had been speaking with enters and watch the three of you with a sort of detached curiosity.

"Younglings," the first elder says. "Asking about Myth Drannor, of course. And not smart enough to heed a simple, 'Stay away.' They wanted to see if anyone else here could tell them old stories."

The moon elven woman laughs. It's a pale, washed-out thing, but there is genuine amusement in it as well. "Of course. So, here we are. What would you have of us?"

Elorfindar bowed before addressing the elves of Velethuil: "My name is Elorfindar Silveroak, and I am a servant of the Sage at Sunset, also hailing from the Last Home."

An astute observor might have noticed that during Corym's very dedicated speech that followed, the priest sometimes gave the impression of being somewhat uncomfortable. Some of his friend's words were a bit too... grandiose for his taste, though on the other hand, Elorfindar did not disagree with them.



The moonelf cleric had too restrain himself from snorting at the elder's dry humour, giving Corym a wink and a smile in an attempt to lighten his companion's mood.



Elorfindar bows and clears his throat before speaking. "Thank you for being prepared to advise us," he says before introducing Corym, Dorian and himself. Then he continues: "Different gates brought our group of explorers - which consists not only of tel'quessir - together to Myth Drannor from different places, and we are determined to find out who, if not one of the Seldarine, made this happen and why. One of the things we are thus interested in is the location of gates within the city."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:13, Mon 10 June 2019.

"That's going to be a challenge," the ancient moon elf says. "Most gates were kept secret from all except their creators. It was a frequent topic of gossip; who had a gate and where it led." She smiles with a mixture of amusement and sadness. "My friends and I used to argue with each other about it long into the night. Castle Cormanthor has gates, of course. The only question was how many. We were fairly sure the Hall of the Beastamers had several, as did all of the wizard schools. The other best place to guess were the noble villas. Not all of them had gates, but any of them might have." The smile returns. "We wiled many an evening trying to guess."

"The only two gates everyone knew about were the Silversgate and the Honorsgate. The Silversgate was a thirty foot arch of silver and marble. It led to a pass outside Silverymoon, and to the city of Ascalhorn. It was in the district of Cormanthor, in the center of the city, on the street called Two Hooks, surrounded by many old buildings.

"The Honorsgate was in the southwest, in Kerradunath. It was a freestanding arch of solid silver thirty feet high at the northern edge of a field, carved to look like hands holding scimitars. It led to the Forest of Mir, and the Akh'Velahr used it to make war on the drow to the south."

She falls silent for a long moment, then shrugs. "I don't know how much use this is. Both the Honorsgate and the Silversgate were destroyed by the People during the Fall, lest the Army follow us still further. As for the others, well, any building or catacomb could hide a gate, but most of them don't. I doubt even Corellon knows how many of them still work, or go where they are supposed to."

"Are there stories about the gates being manipulated by Powers?  Or perhaps being sentient themselves?  We find it hard to believe that we were each plucked from various locations across the land and brought to Myth Drannor at random.  Especially since many of us are know to the others and aren't complete strangers."