The_gladiator
Avatar of Fantasy
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2007
- Posts
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A light in the shadows
Moderators note: this thread is closed, please do not post without express permission of the authors.
Feedback via pm is always welcome.
Historians note: This story takes place in a world of fantasy loosely based upon forgotten realms or other such worlds or campaign settings. However as it is not set in any one created world things may be borrowed from many sources.
This is a land where elves are at peace for the first time in a long time. Between giants and humans and the ever greedy drow of the underdark, the elves have been plagued by wars on and off for centuries. However, the present peace has lasted near to 30 years now. In war things do not always go as planned. This is what brought about our current tale.
Peace year30 – year of the silver maple – Summer
He sat, his hands folded in his lap. He was supposed to be meditating, but today he couldn’t summon the focus. He blew out a sigh and tried to reassert control over his body, yet continued to fail at it.
He was in denial, the fact he couldn’t focus was due to his nerves. He was not meditating, he was awaiting. Today was the day someone from the village would come to resupply his small house, and for that small span of time, he wouldn’t be alone.
Banishment was the highest punishment that the elven council could dispense. Just below that was semi-banishment, and solitary confinement. Such was Veldren’s fait. He was not permanently banished from the elven lands, but he might as well have been. He was allowed no contact with his peoples, although he was able to still feel he life of the forest, he could not participate in its fertility rituals, not able to share and enjoy life with others. The only contact he was allowed was the visitation of an elf who would drop off supplies he couldn’t grow on his own. Veldren almost wished that the elves utilized the death penalty, that would be better than this solitude. Such were the consequences of his actions. He knew what he elves in the tree town thought of him. His high elven kin thought him a murder and rapist and worse, a dabbler in black magic. All but the latter weren’t true. He had tampered with things best left alone, for a good cause to help his people, nevertheless the elders considered it a mark of his evil nature. So he wore the black robes they’d given him marking his “Evil” nature, and lived alone on the edges of society.
He heard the soft sound of cart wheels and assumed that the man who brought his supplies had arrived. He did not bother to open his eyes, if it was Waylen, he knew where things went, he craved the company, but couldn’t indulge himself. If he let himself feel happy and enjoy another’s company, it would only make it more difficult when he was alone again. So he sat, his black hair obscuring the lines of his face, his eyelids closed over his green eyes. As he pretended to be absorbed in meditation.
Moderators note: this thread is closed, please do not post without express permission of the authors.
Feedback via pm is always welcome.
Historians note: This story takes place in a world of fantasy loosely based upon forgotten realms or other such worlds or campaign settings. However as it is not set in any one created world things may be borrowed from many sources.
This is a land where elves are at peace for the first time in a long time. Between giants and humans and the ever greedy drow of the underdark, the elves have been plagued by wars on and off for centuries. However, the present peace has lasted near to 30 years now. In war things do not always go as planned. This is what brought about our current tale.
Peace year30 – year of the silver maple – Summer
He sat, his hands folded in his lap. He was supposed to be meditating, but today he couldn’t summon the focus. He blew out a sigh and tried to reassert control over his body, yet continued to fail at it.
He was in denial, the fact he couldn’t focus was due to his nerves. He was not meditating, he was awaiting. Today was the day someone from the village would come to resupply his small house, and for that small span of time, he wouldn’t be alone.
Banishment was the highest punishment that the elven council could dispense. Just below that was semi-banishment, and solitary confinement. Such was Veldren’s fait. He was not permanently banished from the elven lands, but he might as well have been. He was allowed no contact with his peoples, although he was able to still feel he life of the forest, he could not participate in its fertility rituals, not able to share and enjoy life with others. The only contact he was allowed was the visitation of an elf who would drop off supplies he couldn’t grow on his own. Veldren almost wished that the elves utilized the death penalty, that would be better than this solitude. Such were the consequences of his actions. He knew what he elves in the tree town thought of him. His high elven kin thought him a murder and rapist and worse, a dabbler in black magic. All but the latter weren’t true. He had tampered with things best left alone, for a good cause to help his people, nevertheless the elders considered it a mark of his evil nature. So he wore the black robes they’d given him marking his “Evil” nature, and lived alone on the edges of society.
He heard the soft sound of cart wheels and assumed that the man who brought his supplies had arrived. He did not bother to open his eyes, if it was Waylen, he knew where things went, he craved the company, but couldn’t indulge himself. If he let himself feel happy and enjoy another’s company, it would only make it more difficult when he was alone again. So he sat, his black hair obscuring the lines of his face, his eyelids closed over his green eyes. As he pretended to be absorbed in meditation.