Open Chronicles Live Together

[The Shorai]

In the months since the war began, though they were not without set-back, the Aerai and their allies had managed to not only outmaneuver their adversaries, but for the most part overpower them as well. While across the vast majority of the allied forces their victories were seen purely as such, to some amongst the Conclave this was a cause for concern. It was thought to be too easy - a point of contention during the Council's most recent assembly. Victory at Qárele and Sindrost were argued to be far from easy. Despite the disagreements regarding their enemy's performance during the war, one thing was certain. The campaigns moving forward were going to be all the more important, and all the more costly.

However, after 8 months of continuous fighting, many of the Allied army's most experienced warriors would be returning to Sharyrdaes for a time of rest and reprieve, and far less prepared soldiers would step into their place. Placing an emphasis on fortifying their positions, the Order prepares to weather to storm while their primary assets prepare for the next offensive...

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Sharyrdaes City Square​

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​

As Vailë passed through the great gates of Sharyrdaes, she marveled at their renewed grandeur. Great magic stones that for so long had been toppled onto the ground, once again suspended by the arcane magic that held them in place and swung them open and shut. She admired the etchings on them while she could, but continued on with the rest of those around her entering into the city. It was then that she realized the ambient noise around her had grown, and it was far more than the voices of the tired soldiers around her, it was the shouting and singing of praises in their very own honour, rising up ahead of them! As they entered into the square they were greeted by many, and almost immediately a frenzy of laughter, music, and dancing erupted in the vast city square.

For their part, most of the Aerai were somewhat shocked, left standing idly by on the sidelines for a time. It was very unlike them to celebrate in such ways, but, their allies - being a very diverse sort - all had unique but similarly spirited methods of enjoying themselves.

Vailë cast a look to one side, and then the other, and then looked up to none other than Anárion - whose expression was priceless - standing just a few feet away from her.

"Well, what do you say General?"

Anárion turned his attention to her, raising a brow at her question before letting out a soft chuckle and shaking his head, shrugging, "do as the Allirians do?"

---

 

[Erën]

Upon returning to these lands, he'd hardly expected the kind of reception that they received. When he and Caliane entered Aeraesar through the northwestern border, he was astounded to find the fortress of Qárele, though still in a state of disrepair, to be occupied. Even more surprising, there were more than just Aerai who were vigilant upon those walls. In fact, it was a pair of towering orcs who at first barred their way, warning them of the troubles ahead.

"Erën," he would say with a gesture toward himself, "and Caliane," a gesture to her, "we fight for Sharyrdaes."

To them, he certainly looked enough like an Aerai, and she was undoubtedly an Avariel, who they seemed far from surprised to see. No doubt the Thirteen had already made quite a name for themselves.

On down the main road, it was a far safer journey than it had been for over a century. And too, to his eyes, this place seemed different. Though the plague still held firm, it seemed lessened here, somewhat. It felt less cold.

---

Passing through the renewed gates of his home, he felt a mixture of emotion. He could not feel the presence of his people so close in his mind, but here in the presence of them he could feel a closeness.

Tightly he held Caliane's hand in his... a passing glance.

Music fill their ears first. Drums.. shouting.. something explosive.

As they passed into the city square, they found it to be nearly packed with people from many different places. Given the city square's size, this was a number Erën admittedly could not easily place. All of them seemed to be partaking in various celebrations: playing music, singing, dancing and preforming. And, though they seemed completely out of character doing so, his brethren were partaking with them.

"Now this, I have not seen the like."

---

Caliane Ruinë ​

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

"This is..."

Words could, at times, even fail legends.

Caliane wasn't sure where to look first. She had been expecting a broken shell of a city, a people in dire need of assistance. The report that they had received from the Elders in Thyasari had painted a bleak picture of the state of the Aerai. A part of her had even worried they would arrive too late to find anyone. Yet not only did her loves people survive, they lived. Her eyes roamed from an elf and a dwarf drinking and laughing together, to one of her own kin - a member of The Thirteen no doubt - dancing with a human male. And yes, if she chose to and looked deeper, she could see the wounds both physical and mental in the faces of those gathered but they persisted.

She squeezed Erën's hand when the words did not come.

 

[Erën]

His people were often very rigid and proper. In this place most of all. To see such relent in a time like this. It was an odd comfort to him, almost as much as the comfort in the hand held in his.

"Magnificent." he finished for her, awestruck all the same.

As his and her people, joined with many others all danced in the city square, he took a few moments to simply look on. There was a warmth and relief in him he had no expected, and the joy in spite of suffering that he saw unfolding was a lesson to him. And so he drew down the cloak that had covered his head, and let his eyes wander across all that he could see.

The city, still far from what it was, resonated life that it had not for so very long. He could see where the wounds had begun to mend, and he felt the hope that it might be fulfilled.

Then, from somewhere in the crowd around them, there came a great cry of excitement and glee.

"You long eared, scowl faced, troublesome elf!" bursting from the crowd, Filn Stenlager approached with intend in his step, "I fight my way all the way down here only to have your kin tell me you're dead! By the crown of Jorrog I was ready to pull you from hell myself and then send ya back!"

The two stared at each other for a time, and then they smiled. Filn shared an unhindered smile toward Caliane as well before he said it was good to see them both, and then departed from them.

"I wonder who else is still here."

Who else was still alive.

---

Caliane Ruinë​

 

[Oriane]

"You are a great dancer!" Marveled the human male sweeping her in for a close moment before the music called her to spin. Oriane snorted, grinned, and narrowed her eyes at the impressively tall male that had braved the hoards and asked her to dance. He was handsome too, perhaps a little too burly for her particular tastes, but Oriane was happy to allow him to admire her.

"I have had centuries more of life to be a great dancer." She was wicked in the way she spun in place, for her dress fashioned and embroidered all in golden hues had glittered under the warmth of the lights above. The Spear was a beacon, the famed songs always depicted her as a heavenly harbinger. "I could close my eyes and still be a great dancer."

This was her fifth dancing partner for the night. Around them, several other males waited to dive and cut in for a dance with the Avariel, but Oriane liked to be cruel when it was in her control. She intended to dance once more with this human and his average compliments, but the dancing and attention was all Oriane needed to keep her mind occupied.

 

[Hanoi]

Back on her travels, Hanoi arrives at the gates of Sharydraes. The exotic dancer and “companion” had travelled around for many miles for a chance to make good coin from entertaining the locals. She heard from travelers around the area at taverns and inns that a war raged throughout the land, which meant a golden opportunity to pry the pockets of soldiers who need good bedside companionship for the night. That is how she lives, that is how she earns her daily bread.

As she passes through, the city was lively and getting closer to the square, the place resembled more of a festival rather than a war. But with this, she has another opportunity to make more money, entertaining the crowds with a dance from her homeland (and possibly pick a pocket or two). She takes out a bottle of an elixir she still has from her time in Alliria, more specifically the Shallows, drinking it for a boost in energy. She also took out some finger cymbals she stole back when she was a young teenager on the streets. She walked to the source of the music, a couple of musicians as she told them what to play, before making her way to the center of the dances.

“My good friends!” She shouts to the crowd to get their attention. It wasn’t hard to miss her, having tanned skin, long black hair, and a well-endowed figure, as well as her attire being revealing enough to be entrancing, yet dignified, as if she was wearing undergarments, and was barefoot. “Come gather around and witness the beauty of dance from the far lands of Vel Anir!”. The music starts and she begins to dance with great passion and seduction, her barefeet dancing the beating of the drum and the shimmer of her cymbals. It was a dance she saw her mother perform many years ago before she died. Now she shares it with the city tonight.