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  • Shards
    Shards  2 months ago

    Happy New Year!

  • Edrick
    Edrick  2 months ago

    Happy New Year all!

  • EcoTec
    EcoTec  5 months ago

    You the man thanks mate

  • Cuchuwyn
    Cuchuwyn  5 months ago

    There it is!

  • Cuchuwyn
    Cuchuwyn  5 months ago

    -Clickedy-

  • EcoTec
    EcoTec  5 months ago

    Anyone have the thain discord link, thankyou

  • Payne
    Payne  5 months ago

    Edrick... mad

  • Edrick
    Edrick  5 months ago

    Payne

  • !ofAkindGuy2000
    !ofAkindGuy2000  5 months ago

    Thanks.

  • Glognar
    Glognar  5 months ago

    There is! You need to examine the omnidye to find the info. I also think that there is still an error though in one of the numbers.


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Poisonwar

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Varmar
12:54:43 am GMT 05/16/20
Varmar Registered Member #25343 Joined: 8:54:42 pm GMT 08/30/19
Posts: 124
The Lifebringer


[ image disabled ]

It had called them back. The thing, the ‘child’. That nameless entity.

Their ‘child’.

It no longer had a single voice, but many. And it kept growing. The world confused it, and it did not care to try and understand it. It only wanted to grow and spread.

It had accused her, accused them, or forsaking it. And it was true. The Heart of Corruption had been intended as a weapon, and they had left after planting it, thinking it a failure. They knew it was alive, that something new had been created, which excited Cathalya to no end, but it had not brought the immediate destruction they had hoped.

How wrong they had been.

It had rooted itself deeply in Feywood. Taken over the docks. And it kept craving for more. Arakhor approached and to tried reason with it, only for it to prove as futile as her attempts to reason with the Maethor’Estel.

And it kept calling her Mother.

The fey knew that its presence had not passed unnoticed. Their enemies would come to destroy it soon. She could have left and focused her efforts on the south again, but Feywood had to pay for interfering in the war. And she could not bring herself to abandon the aberration, to truly forsake it. While the others looked for a way to deal with Draxus, she would keep their foes occupied in the north.

Bloated, she glanced upon distended skin. The writhing of vines under it. They had deformed her body, filled every inch of it. But what could a mother do, other than help their child?

The ever-mutating flora around her caught her attention, and she reached to feel the unnerving atmosphere. So unique was its power that it even interfered with magic, and she could not help but think about Nay-ritha and her experiments in the ruined fort – in the Mind-mother. The others said that it was hardly surprising that such an accident had happened, that the war had made them desperate, and the dryad wondered whether it had made them the same.

But their deeds would serve a purpose. They had to.

Every step she took caused flowers and stems of impossible colours to sprout behind her. Some might call her the Blightbringer, but it could not be further from the truth. She would spread the new life they had created, the fear Rita had imbued into the Heart, see it stretch and span and cover all of Feywood, if necessary. That would be their vengeance, the one Amywiel and Elarion had offered the creature. And she would pursue it with Kana'ti's drive and Lucan's discipline, while resorting to Cathalya's regret to try and control it.

If successful, she might yet appease the child by offering it the forest of their foes, but others might try to stop her before she could spread its influence. Not that it mattered.

What she did, she did for the Poisonwood. And she would become its Lifebringer.
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Corlupi
8:37:56 am GMT 05/16/20
Corlupi Awooo
Registered Member #2942 Joined: 4:48:33 pm GMT 11/27/12
Posts: 3151
Glannas Dhaer

The Great Purge

[ image disabled ]

Renneleth Margaladhon wrote ...


In every era there comes a time when the collective thoughts, whims, and motivations of a specific people become so self-absorbed, so malignant, so unheeding that Nature itself revolts. They scar the land such that it finally rebels against them. As thoughts can spread despair and death like seedlings of weeds strewn by the wind, so they eventually draw the Gardener to pluck them out. The vetches must be pulled, roots and all. When this happens, Nature ceases to bless, and instead, it curses. Instead of healing, it spews poison. It happens swiftly and terribly. The ancients gave it a name, this culling process that blackens the world. They named it after a wasting disease that occurs in once-healthy groves of trees. They called it the Blight.

But the Blight is not to be feared. It is only a manifestation of the wicked thoughts and deeds preceding it. Where weeds are sown, weeds grow. Trust in Nature to sort itself. In the natural world, nature culls itself. Fires spread through thick forests so that old trees can lie and new trees can grow anew. The Blight, the bacteria, the oldest living thing in the world, will perish in the high heat. And snakes will feed on birds which feed on worms which feed on earthly organisms which feed on us and others.

It is all so obvious, but somehow, when Man sought dominance over the world, the spiritual and the natural, he forgot that Mother Nature is inescapably persuasive in making sure equilibrium is maintained. The earth's living organisms have survived despite numerous extinctions and disasters. Evolution, however much Man does attempt to stem its tide, is a cruel and stringent process; living things pass on when living things live on.

And what of Poisonwood, my brethren ask of me? To them I answer, Poisonwood is a Blight. It is Mother Nature cursing those of our erstwhile kinsmen who, with perverted thought and perverted deed, perverted the land they inhabited. I say to my brethren to trust in Nature to sort itself; that it will restore its own equilibrium by cleansing itself with fire or with flood. Finally, I remind my brethren that sometimes, we need to help Nature along in purging itself.

This is what we shall do to Poisonwood. With great fire or with terrible flood, we shall help Mother Nature restore itself.
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Shade
9:54:20 pm GMT 05/17/20
Shade Registered Member #24916 Joined: 2:58:00 pm GMT 01/23/19
Posts: 604

[ image disabled ]


So... To find something they can use to get rid of that one certain nuisance.. It was during a quick errand to the underdark the evoker came across something incredibly useful. Why he had never thought to use the drow's magic academy, he will never know. They housed so much knowledge. So many fields, so many books... He found one in particular that was nothing short of hitting the jackpot.

An unknown time was spent just looking trough it. There was so much he could potentially use, so he took quick notes of everything he could use. There was too much to fit on one paper, of course, so he would have to come back later. The groundwork is still there.

Reaching out for the demon had proven fruitful as well. He appeared in southern Poisonwood, of all places. The conversation was brief, but straight to the point. He got valuable information. Some needs to be shared right away, and some that had rendered the last few days of work useless. Rather disappointing, considering he had spent almost all his gold on a pair of artifacts he will now have no use for. Still, there was information and the name of a potential ally. They now need to find the one named "Halla."

There was much still to do, and he had to report his findings. All of them.
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Corlupi
2:40:42 pm GMT 05/20/20
Corlupi Awooo
Registered Member #2942 Joined: 4:48:33 pm GMT 11/27/12
Posts: 3151
Glannas Dhaer II

Cr'ia

[ image disabled ]

Calfadric of Waterdeep wrote ...


The bird sings. Its feathers shine.
The palm stands on the edge of space.
The wind moves slowly in the branches.
The bird's fire-fangled feathers dangle down.

The symbolism of the majestic phoenix bird, which is most often connected with the Sun, dies and is reborn across cultures and throughout time. The phoenix symbolizes renewal and resurrection, and represents many themes, most notably the sun, time, the empire, metempsychosis, consecration, resurrection and purification through destruction.

Ancient legend paints a picture of a magical bird, radiant and shimmering, which lives for several hundred years before it dies by bursting into flames. It is then reborn from the ashes, to start a new, long life. So powerful is the symbolism that it is a motif and image that has been incorporated into nearly all known cultures.

The legendary phoenix is a large, grand bird, much like an eagle or peacock. It is brilliantly coloured in reds, purples, and yellows, as it is associated with the rising sun and fire. Sometimes a nimbus will surround it, illuminating it in the sky. Its eyes are blue and shine like sapphires. It builds its own funeral pyre or nest, and ignites it with a single clap of its wings. After death it rises gloriously from the ashes and flies away.

When it feels its end approaching, it builds a nest with the finest aromatic woods, sets it on fire, and is consumed by the flames. From the pile of ashes, a new phoenix arises, young and powerful. It then embalms the ashes of its predecessor in an egg of myrrh, and flies to the realm of fire, where it deposits the egg on the altar of the Fire God.

Even on the remote island of Thain, for as long as anyone remembers there have existed myths about legendary fire birds. Some locals say that a phoenix is the chosen avatar of F'tarek, the Elemental Aspect of Fire, and that the flaming bird is a living symbol of the deity. Other locals disagree and point to the fact that phoenixes have been sighted long before the emergence of the Elemental Aspects. But while the natives of Thain disagree on the mythology of the creature, they readily agree that the phoenix reigns over all the birds. The sighting of the phoenix is a significant occurrence whether one lives in Steinkreis or Iron City, and both cities feature palaces and temples that are guarded by ceramic protective beasts, all lead by the phoenix.

But what, the reader may wonder, does the sighting of a phoenix portend? Change? Upheaval? Destruction? Rebirth! Or perhaps all four intertwined: change and rebirth through upheaval and destruction?

In the still of the night, just before sunrise, a magnificent creature was building its nest. Renneleth paused, mesmerised, to watch as it carefully put each spice, clove, and branch that lay before it in place with meticulous detail. As he stood there and watched, he was struck by the creature's perfect symmetry, and the perfect synthesis of its colours. Did it know he was there, watching? Instinctively, he knew that it did. The bird craned its head back and began to sing such a haunting melody that stopped the sun itself in the sky. A spark fell from the heavens and ignited a great fire that consumed both bird and nest – yet Renneleth stood still. In three days, he knew, the phoenix would rise from the ashes, reborn.

And so he waited for her.

He waited for Cr'ia.
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Shade
7:33:53 pm GMT 05/24/20
Shade Registered Member #24916 Joined: 2:58:00 pm GMT 01/23/19
Posts: 604
Assault part 1

What a day.. It had started so well, with the evoker meeting his sisters in the southern woods. They did their usual scheming and went to see their Queen for her input. She noted right away on the calm before the storm. Asked if they could feel it too. They all knew what was to come. The battle that will remove the traitor queen. The battle to bring them victory. They were all past the point of no return. The only options for them were victory, death, or suffer like they already have for centuries.

The only option was victory.

Even the forest was quiet as they walked toward their city. Arakhor, Amywiel, Cathalya and Elarion. All figures now well known at the front lines, and central figures in the war. Once inside Greenvale, they were approached by a turned Estecallon, one Elarion has taken to calling "redeemers." She, along with a hand, guided them to the central tower. There was a battle, but even Greenvale's finest fell quickly to their turned sister, and the might of Poisonwood. A figure seemed to have left the tower at the worst possible time as well, as the Poisonwood team was ready to break down the door. Unfortunate fellow. He was quickly slain, and the four entered the tower.

To their surprise, it was not as heavily guarded as one would think. Sure, it had plenty of guards, but the evoker had expected so many more of Greenvale's finest. Oh well. They were all slain. There was a little portal ahead as well, but it was quickly covered by Cathalya's vines before Elarion just dispelled it. They had greater things to focus on.

They entered the tower, and another fierce battle awaited them, with their target straight ahead. The celestial, Draxus. While his sisters fought him, the evoker struggled to strike with the spell gem. His first attack missed! How could he miss?! It was a miracle his sisters were able to hold him off, but it all paid off. While he had his back turned, and was fighting the fiercest shape of Arakhor, the celestial had his back turned to Elarion. Bad move. He aimed again and fired the magic, and the celestial was soon shouting "NO!! NOOO!!!" before he vanished.

Success. The window they had wanted for so long... only one little detail was missing. There was no traitor queen. The throne was empty, and the battle had been far too easy. Still, they had their mission. The evoker fired off three fireballs over the city, to signal their victory against Draxus and sat out for the next step of their mission. To recover any artifacts them may find.

They were able to recover four. Some without much of an issue, and one rather frustrating one. A record of Greenwood's ancient lineages, a bowl of water that somehow seemed to show the past, a shattered blade of Kintaro, and a harp belonging to Talyrenne, still somehow playing by itself. It was.... something? Yet it paled in comparison from what they saw from the tower.

A colossal pillar of flame rose from the tower they knew to belong to the school, sent over their woods, and bathed it in flame. They could only watch in shock and horror as their beloved home was seemingly destroyed. Everything they loved, everything they fought to protect, taken away from them before their very eyes..

It was time to leave. The tower was crumbling and shaking, but they for some reason couldn't. Some strange magic was blocking both Cathalya's means to the shadow plane, and their portal stones. It seemed like they had no option but to go down with the tower. Elarion was prepared for this. He had even suggested it to the lady, but as he now stood there and saw despair on their faces, he wondered if it was all worth it. His sisters were kind.. Caring.. They were flowers not intended for a battlefield. He was ready to die in this tower, but were they?
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Varmar
3:09:43 am GMT 05/25/20
Varmar Registered Member #25343 Joined: 8:54:42 pm GMT 08/30/19
Posts: 124
The Lifebringer II


It had happened again. Fire had come to her home, and she had been told to run. Except, this time, she had been offered a choice, or, perhaps, an illusion of one.

Arakhor had tried to ‘bridge’ creation and destruction, to take care of the details while the Queen saw to the absolutes. She had realised that the poison embodied life as much as it did death. Creation and destruction, beginning and end. Spring and autumn. Thus, she had stretched a hand to try and talk while preparing for the worst with the other. An arduous, difficult task to be sure, but she had pledged herself to it.

Until the breach between both had grown too deep.

Had she tried too hard? Gone too far? Or maybe she had done too little? Not tried hard enough?

To find an answer would take long hours of introspection and soul-searching, but she could not deny her failure. In the end, reality had imposed itself. She had failed to try and keep everything together. The dilemma Sylvox had told her about had come true. They had to choose between peace and victory. They could not have both.

Part of her pushed for the latter. For victory or death. The part that Renneleth managed to stir with so flagrant ease. But she had seen where that path would take her. To autumn – and winter. The fey could feel the hatred the war had distilled brewing inside her. Should she indulge it, fall to it, it would push her away from everything; turn her into something more monstrous than she already was.

But she did not want to become that. If their child and the maiming of Feywood had taught her anything, it was that she still had Seryn’s hands. Her talents for mending and creating. Arakhor still cared too much, even if in her own, selfish way. Aware of it, the others had tried to convince her to embrace spring. Even Elarion, whose choice could not be clearer.

For all the inner conflict, the truth was that, for her, the decision had been rather evident as well. Deep down, she could not ignore that she was Arakhor, Tree Warden. It was the name Spyder had given her. She was a dryad, a nurturer. And while none could deny that she had done heinous things, Cathalya was ultimately right, as always.

Without a forest, there would be no dream. The Queen was taking it too far, making the price too high. She had seen the fervour in her eyes, the fanaticism in Vryx’s. By the time victory was reached, if it ever was, nothing would be left.

But it still gnawed at her. The wild flower had convinced herself that bringing everything together was possible. That their leader could become their ‘Titania’ and make the poison into an element others had no choice but to respect. Dissent, treachery. Those were the easy, careless choices.

The true effort was to stay and fight, to try and make things work. But it had not been enough. Sylvox had taken the matter into his own hands and decided for them. It would not surprise her if he had even warned Yu’syu of the impending attack to avoid seeing them branded with a stain that would never wash away.

Alas, there would be no redemption to be found even so. The words she and Lucan had traded recently could not ring truer. She was a monster that had done despicable things. Most damning of all, she did not regret fighting for her home and reaping the lives she had taken. Like most, she would have preferred if the war had never happened, that Greenvale and Poisonwood had come to understand and tolerate the other without having to spill so much blood first. But it had happened.

What she truly regretted was failing her child, failing to keep her home together and failing to save those she could not heal. And just like some would never be able to either forgive or forget the things she had done, she would always remember the senseless destruction their foes had brought. The death of the old tree, the column of flame, the petty ignorance. Like Feywood before them, Greenvale had failed to be the ‘better’ side. When it had come to it, they had stooped below the Lady’s level.

And in spite of all, Arakhor would do her best to focus on creation. To move on, somehow, and focus on the remaining trees and the poison. On life. Others would oppose it, but it was not a chance she could dismiss or, worse, spoil. Their dream would have to adapt.

And they with it.
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Ellisandro
8:59:55 am GMT 05/25/20
Ellisandro Registered Member #1563 Joined: 10:49:16 am GMT 03/30/10
Posts: 35
Anyndel sat on the beach looking out to sea. He breathed in once and then started to write with a determination and a whiff of his old creative flair. He mused that once he had been able to move the hearts and minds of men with his works and whilst a little rusty was hoping that this missive would work.

He whistled and his hawk appeared and gave a weary "caw". "Take copies of the letter. One to Captain Kellendill. One to the Feywood Council addressed to Renneleth. He turned to the ever present Dele. "Vanima, would you take this to the Queen as a copy of the the letters to the other two?"


Comrades and Friends,


I write this missive with a renewed sense of purpose and optimism, rejuvenated from the disappointment of the last couple of days. I felt, as you did that we were betrayed by the peace that was accepted. After all our efforts and including the terrible decision we all agreed with to try and end the war in the most decisive way it was all for naught. Our enemy was not now our enemy. Those who had killed our own were to be offered amnesty. I bridled at this as much as you did, did so many died in vain that we could easily ignore it?

My friends the real enemy we face now is our own pride. I now understand what the Queen meant. I will relate to you a story that may clarify my change in heart and i hope will change yours too.

A tenday back i was in the city whilst it burnt once more from the onslaught of the Arben and treants. I broke down the door of a building expecting to find the enemy but found two elven girls huddled by the bodies of their fallen family. I carried them from the building and took them to safety in the rear. They both looked up at me with such trust. Anyndel the feared Black Dragon had been accepted by two children who should know better. Who were orphaned for a war they knew nothing about and for a cause they couldn't hope to understand. Who simply needed to be helped.

If we do not fight the Lady we are leaving these very people to their own fate. We are the boldest and the best of Greenvale's forces and I for one will not forsake the city inhabitants because i don't like a political decision. We MUST defeat those that would harm the city.

Forget those that we have fought against for now. Our reckoning with them will be soon enough and of that i promise. We must save the city and it's people from what they face.

It is time for heroes to be heroic and put aside our egos and suffer the burden of responsibility and expectation of those that rely upon us. You are my friends and I would stand with you in this dark hour.

Your true friend and comrade,

Anyndel


He would not let the people suffer...the decision was bigger than just him. They had accepted him into their city and he in turn would do as much to repay that trust as he could.
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FlowerGolem
10:49:40 am GMT 05/25/20
FlowerGolem Registered Member #1428 Joined: 12:46:47 pm GMT 05/02/09
Posts: 344
[ image disabled ]

Amywiel was at the top of the Greenvale tower, with her dear sister Cathalya, her brother Elarion and the dark fey, Arakhor. They were looking for artefacts for the Lady of the Woods... if they failed at that as well, she would have been extremely angry at them, without any doubts.

Then it happened... From the nearby tower, the one from the Greenvale School of Magic, a massive pillar of fire suddenly was thrown... and fell on the Poisonwood, burning everything at a rapid rate and creating a poisonous cloud.

Arkahor was frozen in place. Cathalya, in an unusual phlegm, said : "Alright. We don't have to worry about returning home anymore."

Amywiel fell on her knees, shouting in despair, her heart broken.
Her home, her dear woods, in flames. Exactly like in her recurring nightmare. She closes her eyes, remembering it briefly.

In her nightmare, she was right inside the woods, burning. Frozen, unable to move. Then she could spot the threatening figures of people she has never met, only heard of from her brothers and sisters. An elf with horns, which was Renneleth in her mind, the Tel'Mordere who was eating people. And a scary evil lich with a magical red-glowing staff, which would probably be Elith.

They walked past Amywiel, ignoring her completely, and yet she was unable to move... Unable to extinguish the fire. Unable to punish Renneleth and Elith who were supposedly responsible of the fire.


She opens her eyes again. It was a bit different. No Renneleth, no Elith. She was not frozen either. But she was stuck on the top of a tower, helpless, unable to to anything else than stare at her dear woods burning.

Her world was shattered. She did not care much for the war, but the woods, the poison, were everything for her. And both were gone.
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Kat
12:21:38 pm GMT 05/25/20
Kat Registered Member #25300 Joined: 6:37:11 am GMT 06/04/19
Posts: 153
Meanwhile in a quiet hidden corner of Thain, three continued their work. Determined that no matter the current state of the war. Their project still had merit. Still had a part to play.

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ShroudedSun
5:55:16 pm GMT 05/25/20
ShroudedSun Registered Member #25436 Joined: 1:59:54 pm GMT 03/22/20
Posts: 58
The new “peace” between Greenvale and the Poisonwood Schism had given Avaggdu much to think about and a mixture of conflicting emotions. On one hand, he was somewhat glad that a common enemy had revealed itself, that they may perhaps, through cooperation mend some of the wounds they inflicted upon each other during this war. On the other hand, he feared that the wounds, the horrors he had seen in the war, were too great for him to overlook. He felt a fire, an anger-even hate- flickering in the deepest recesses of his soul which he thought would never reveal itself.

((going back in time before the event))

Only a day before the Poisonwood attacked the Queen’s Tower and the burning of the Poisonwood occurred, the Poisonwood attacked the shire. Avaggdu, Kralshaman, and Vroshnak arrived just in the brink of time to fight off the Poisonwood forces. Emerging through the portal, Avaggdu found a dead Fairy Dragon laying in the grass. This filled him with rage, and in a primal fury he ripped into the Poisonwood’s soldiers. At one point he was tempted to bite out one of their throats, but, having the strong will that he does, he restrained himself.

After the battle, the Kralshaman began collecting the dead Clansmen and lining them up ceremoniously in front of the cavern. Avaggdu became immediately worried about the half-orc child Amelia who lived with the Clan, and began searching for her in the Cave. To everyone’s relief he found her. He then took her to Drystan’s tower for protection while the grown-ups sorted out the mess. It was around this time that the champions of Greenvale arrived to collect the Clan members for their next plan of attack.

Later, Vroshnak, who still had the Torch of the Blessed Flame of Kossuth which the Clan used to attack the Ridgeshield, suggested that He and Avaggdu burn the bodies of the Clansmen, as the fire would represent their spirit. Instead, Avaggdu suggested that they light candles with the flame, so that the Kralshaman may have a chance to perform whatever rites each Clan member had wanted in the event of their death.

((fast forward until after the event))

Avaggdu was traveling through the Ridgeshield at night, on his way to the shire. He would often shift into a lycan form and stalk quietly through this area, as not to attract the ire of the forest-kin. More importantly for him, it was so that the poison pixies would not attack him because he hated the idea of hurting them no matter how aggressive they are.

Out of curiosity, he diverged from the usual route to the shire, finding a Poisonwood outpost. He was able to easily sneak past the guards, and while on a ridge spotted Cathalya, Arakhor, and Amywiel discussing their feelings about the burning of the poisonwood. As to be expected from ones who had just lost their home, they were full of sorrow. Arakhor recounted the story of Seryn’s journey of the island- how she started out peaceful and eventually got caught up in the politics, war, and hatred. Some of the aspects of this story rang true to Avaggdu’s own story, and for a brief moment he was able to sympathize once more with the feyling. However, he knew Seryn was dead, regardless of whether some part of her was trapped inside Arakhor.

Avaggdu, Dele, and Teron met to continue working on their project. After they finished their meeting, Dele and Avaggdu discussed their thoughts on the Clan and the new developments with the war. Here Avaggdu confided in Dele what he had overheard in the Ridgeshield, and revealed his ugly hate. He questioned, incredulously, “How can they now sit in pity for themselves?” After they started this war, unleashed demons in the streets, slaughtered commoners… after what they did to the Feywood. After all the attacks on the shire… Avaggdu raised his voice, ranting, and eventually Dele sympathetically asked him, “So the hate got you too?” Ashamed at his display of rage, he sighed and nodded. Dele and Avaggdu agreed that once things started to settle down, they would try and clean themselves of this hate, lest they become like the Poisonwood elves- ruled by it.
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