@ Zhymm: I am so old that when I first played D&D, elf, dwarf and halfling were considered classes.
@ ceeags, handover and Dyrcona:
It's cool to see all of you back around! Roll up a character and join us!
a Dyrcona: There is some weird thing in these new forums (I know thatt they look the same, but they are somehow new "behind the scenes). You may want to try making a new thread that is worded slightly different. It is worth a shot.
I don't know what happened. I tried to make a new forum post, and I got a screen full of busted HTML code. When I tried again, I got a message about a duplicate post. When I look in the forum, it appears to have posted twice, but the newer one is empty.
Registered Member #24916
Joined: 2:58:00 pm GMT 01/23/19
When the drow disappeared, Elarion dropped, completely spent from exhausting both his body and magic. He fell against the well's edge. The moment the enemy teleported away, the trees, the flowers, and the ambiance of the tomb all changed. Away from their tower and deprived of their light, The Sun and The Moon began to gradually wither. They were aging in front of Elarion's eyes. Their skin was shrivelling, and their hair was greying. Even so, they used what little remained of their considerable power to pick themselves up and shuffle toward Elarion and Nicolette. Elarion could only watch them, being too tired to do much more than let himself drop from the edge. He crawled to meet them, pulling himself by his arms toward the withering moon, pulling out his last phoenix feather. Something he had hoped to use for something later, but there won't ever be a better time. He reached the feather for The Moon, but The Moon closed Elarion's hand around his feather and pressed dried, cracked lips against his cheek. With that kiss, she bestowed her last light to him. "Remember us and our dream, dearest one. Carry it in your heart." Then, with her dying breath. "Touch the sun in his garden."
As The Sun drew near Nicolette, he could see her fading in and out of consciousness, certain she had failed, she saw the greying, aging figure like a dream. "..don't go.. Please... don't go.." Even though he was little more than a corpse, The Sun, Anarcalin was somehow not lessened for it. As death finally found him, he met with a proud and fierce smile. He kissed Nicolette, with his last rays banishing all shadows from her person. "Know this, Nimmeril... A man can die, but his dreams can live on in others, his light shine through others. Let mine shine through you as Alikka's does." Then with his dying breath.. "Find the moon in her garden. Touch it... and let... Elarion... the tower... his... as long as he..."
Tears streamed down Nicolette's face as she whispered the same words, "don't go" until nothing was left. Elarion watched in despair as The Moon withered before his eyes, not even able to give her his last words, as his hand dropped to the floor. True utter defeat and the loss of someone he had looked so up to. Someone he had hoped to swear allegiance to, now dead before him. As Nicolette wiped her tears and slowly rose, Elarion remained where he was. On the ground, defeated in spirit more than anything. Never before had he felt such heartache, finally truly understanding the weight of his past, and the pain he has inflicted on so many, with the sight before him now burned into his mind forever. Nicolette drew in a breath and let it out, slowly pulling her shattered thoughts together. She looked toward Elarion, and for a while, she let the silence remain. There was nothing she could say to help him, but after a long time, she spoke. "...I'll go tomorrow."
Going tomorrow.. That could be nice.. to return to that tower.. Have The Twilight greet them, so Elarion could apologise for doubting him... The Twilight! Elarion staggered to his legs and shambled over, with his body aching from being hit by the void, and over exhausting his magic. Not to mention the cuts Silelmera left. He leaned down to find the other elf was still alive, though barely so. It made Elarion empower his body with his magic, and clenched his teeth from how it hurt all over to lift him. If anything, Elarion could at least carry him until someone came to find them.
"Take him back.." Nicolette told him. There was nothing left that he could do. Nothing for the Sun or Moon. Not even for Nicolette's wounds. He gave her a nod without answering. "It's your tower now. I'll be on the next ship noth. They were right, Elarion. Humans, and elves.. We're poison to each other.." "Th.." Elarion coughed. "Thank... gnnnhh... You.." "...don't.. I shouldn't ever have come." His head dropped at this... but if neither of them had done anything... He kept carrying The Twilight off.
When he entered the tower, a Dawnguard greeted Elarion. "This way, Little Sun. The Lord wishes that you visit his garden." Elarion nodded as he passed The Twilight to the guard. "I will take him." As Elarion passed the room of worship, where two of his formerly Poisoned sisters were still praying, he felt a moment of joy that at least they had found happiness in life. The Dawnguard before The Sun's chamber bowed his head to Elarion, but why? Why the sudden deference? Elarion sure didn't know. Was there a knife coming for his back after all? As he entered and looked to the mini sun floating high in the room, he couldn't help but think it was a joke. A final laugh at his expense. Surely someone must be coming in with a blade. There must be! He let The Sun die!
It was as if the sun reacted to Elarion's thought and emotions, as when he wished to reach it, it sunk down to him. Still thinking this was a trap... There must be! He deserves it! He let The Sun die! He has caused the elves so much pain! He was sure something horrible was going to happen, but he still had to know.. He reached out to touch it, making the orb glow more radiant, then burst into a sphere of golden light. He had to close his eyes, for this light would surely blind him. He clenched his eyes and was prepared to be incinerated by the light. But as nothing came from it, he opened his eyes. To his shock, he was holding a shard in his hand. He dropped to his knees and clenched the shard tightly to his chest, as all emotions came bursting out at once. Everything that had been building up over these last days, and now topped off with the death of someone he looked so much up to.. He screamed from the bottom of his lunges, finally breaking out in uncontrollable crying.
"Remember, Anarcalin, Elarion Hanorlé. He never had an heir, but in you, he found his closest kin. May you be the new sun, a flame towards which others can rally. Be more than one elf; be a symbol. Be hope."