Pointer-left 2012-09-23_17-13-02_629_thumb
Posted by the GM
A New Dawn
Prologue - It Begins
Stumbling through the woods, Felaern Torthedir still couldn't understand how things had happened so badly. A ranger, Felaern had been sent from his home city of Mylerion to Yene Allanar to lead a company of scouts to assist in Yene Allanar’s battle with dwarves at Maldohr. Three weeks ago, he had set out at dawn with his company to scout out dwarfish positions, within hours his world had erupted into chaos. Not only had the dwarven forces routed his fellow elves, it had been a massacre.

Separated from the rest of their army Felaern and his scouts fought their way to freedom, though in the end only Felaern was able to entirely elude his dwarven counter parts. One week of moving through territory that was unfamiliar at best, and hostile at worst, and he still had no idea how the dwarves had not only beaten his brethren so horribly, but how the capital had failed to intervene. In the 400 years of his life as a ranger, in the fighting forces, the peace keepers of Dolonde had never failed to prevent such a disaster. This as far as he was aware was the first time in known history that this had happened.

Over the last week Felaern had managed to sneak his way across dwarfish territory, then work his way through the lands of the gnomes. He decided it was best to stay out of site there as well, as gnomes would probably favor dwarves over elves. Having finally made it into halfling controlled lands, Felaern felt much safer. Halflings having the greatest wines (a fact elves rarely admitted too), and tabac, not to mention their culinary mastery, made them the friends of all. No one fought with the halflings, and their good nature made them willing to help any and all who asked.

Knowing that just over the next rise or so he should set eyes upon the halfling city of Esraisvale, Felaern felt the pressing need to quickly procure means of swift transport home, so that he could debrief. Debrief and then return to the field to extract vengeance on those filthy, stubborn dwarves that is.

Cresting the last rise, Felaern’s elfishly keen eyes finally spy Esraisvale miles in the distance. Or they spy what was Esraisvale. Even from this distance he can see that something is terribly, horribly wrong. Breaking into a sustainable trot, Felaern is able to finish the last miles in just a few hours. Gaining the city walls just as the sun touches the lip of the horizon, he is able to take in all the horror before him. Where once stood the great and massive hill that the halflings made home, now stood nothing but ruins.

Despite his reservations, Felaern cautiously entered the gates of Esraisvale. It only took an hour for him to determine that not a soul was left in the city, and if he hadn't known better wouldn't have thought anyone had been here for thousands of years. Making his way ever inward, and up towards the crest of hill, it did not take Felaern long to find that the great temples of the halfling gods were gone. Not just gone, it was as if some great force had blown them to kingdom come. Whatever happened here, it was obvious that the temples were the epicenter.

Having now forgotten his previous grievances with the dwarves, Felaern knew he had to make haste to report what he has seen to the central counsel. Racial hatreds aside, something greater than inter-city power-plays was afoot. Battered, and travel weary, Felaern once again set out to deliver bad news, though this time it was news of a far worse kind.
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Epic × 2!