The fearsome courage and goodheartedness of this girl of Elvenblood is infectious like the most virulent of plagues, a benevolent contagion which seeps into the heart of other daughters of Malin, as well as the hearts of his many sons also. It is a tale as old as time, and it was the tale of Arleth of Illawyn, an inspiring story which you may, at your leisure, believe to be only part historical, and even more part romantic myth. I must fight.”Ī gentle girl with an innocent soul, plunged unexpectedly into a nightmarish struggle which forces her to become something she was not born to be. I love the feeling of my eyes drifting open in the morning after a wandering dream, and slowly realising that I still live, that I still live here, with my loving father, you, and my companions… I think of losing these things, shed a tear and realise that I must fight, or the murderous darkness will destroy it all. I love ambling through a glade and looking aside to see some squirrel climbing spirally up a tree in pursuit of its mate. But I love our beautiful towers, how the falling sun backlights them in the evening. At the end of the day, it's got grammar, syntax and sentence flaws but I hope it's liked and used, otherwise it was good practice. Some of the combat is stylised and dramatised to a somewhat absurd degree in order to establish this possible lack of truth. I wrote this in an attempt to give the ancient lore a bit of established flavour without actually changing the objective history at all, integrating some of the other old lore I wrote a while back. It is possibly completely true, or possibly a total fabrication, having been removed from its original source (as detailed at the end) a few times. OOC: Simply put an Elven legend from the first war against Iblees focusing on several characters.
0 kommentar(er)
