Malathir Weavesong
Within the age of Myth Malathir was sprung within the realm of Gyhran, with peace and serenity weaving within the song from Alarielle. It was a time of great wisdom and council. Malathir however was unusual amongst his kin, the seasons seem to ebb and flow effortlessly around his being, in a constant flux. Whether the seeding had caused this effect or whether it was a blessing from Alarielle none truly know. It is however not a simple change as the seasonal effect also influences Malathirs mind, from a calm spring breeze to the cruelness of winters chill.
However as with most tales there is tragedy. When traversing the realms on a mission of peace, Malathir and his host were flung into the Interstice pocket realm. As soon as Malathir regained consciousness he took note of his surroundings and noticed an eerie silence… no more could the song of Alarielle be heard clearly except from a glimmer from time to time. In unison the wailing ensued and there would be nothing that could console Malathirs host. Seemingly unsure on what action to take Malathir began heading for the closest forest. Weaving a spell to amplify Alarielles song the host began to understand their peril. Much conflict and strife occurred during their resettlement within the Interstice, and seeding new life into the pocket realm. So it was they formed the Mirrorwood Glade.
Have you met Malathir while within The Great Weave? Or have something to add to his story? Do that here!
The Closing of Jaws
Two explosions lit up the Rondholian night sky almost simultaneously. One constant, one a flash that seared the eyes. The first, a crimson that continues to bleed into the air, the other was an amethyst spike that rippled across the hidden clouds far above. Both spelled trouble, both caused harm to the continent.
interrogative the prisoners
Asarathu sit on the floor of his command tent in nothing but his small clothes the skull mask that hid his face normally lying on the ground abounded revealing man who handsome once before face was marred by severe burns the large one formed the symbol of the change...
Stoking the Blood Stalk
The Gardenwell stretched as far as the eye could see. A lush paradise tucked away in the otherwise savage Furyoth Dell. Massive vines scattered across the picturesque scenery, dozens of which stood tall from the ground. High above the Hyshian light shone down touching...