[The following takes place in Klasies, in Upper Metsar; it is requested that only invited players join the forum post, though all others are welcome to observe for OOP knowledge.]
The dark elf has traveled far, to get to his destination. Being that his main method of travel has been hampered by the sudden lack of potent winds, he has called in a favor in order to safely span to Upper Metsar.
Traveling without his usual provisions of coconut water, smoked fish, and jackfruit he had left on the Lucky Dice before it was taken by the Deep Callers, it has become exceedingly difficult to replenish the energy he burns like a pilot light. Over the course of the next days, he treks across the Scohilt Mountains, harvesting vegetation he finds by tracking goats.
Eventually the dark elf comes to one of the rock faces looking towards Huel Vor. He takes his time to pause, thinking back on how his journey lead him there, working through the Crystal Fists, changing the path he was set on entirely all in the lust for power. But this is not where he intends to seek help. The dark elf is no paladin any longer, as he feels his path transcends such structure. He moves further westward.
The next day he ventures across two rivers to get to Stanwick. Probably the only known way into the Klasies for outsiders. He greets one of the merchants, a kiladanesti fellow he was taught theurgy training with back when he felt need to adhere to his mantle. He spends the night with the merchant and his family, gorging on lurkhabben and telling what he knew about the wind's disappearance, knowing that the disappearance of Ivelis will strongly affect his livelihood.
In the morning, the merchant gives him a fresh change of clothes to come off less threatening as he shows him a path through Moheragh. Once he reaches the city gates of Klasies, the merchant gives him some very fine fabrics to bring to the royal seamstress. After dropping off the wares, he heads toward the line outside the throneroom and waits his turn for a request.
Hours later his turn comes up, to approach. He feels as if he is not ready, gripping onto the totem around his neck nervously...
*Reaching the city of Klasies, Corellus feels the eyes of it's people upon him. While he is an elf, he is not of Klasies; minutiae such as his accent, even the way he walks, reveals him as an outsider. The feeling lingers throughout the long wait for an audience; which brings both relief and apprehension as his name is called. Entering the hall there are several elders seated in semicircular fashion. They look to Corellus, awaiting what he has to say.*
In Velysh, while kneeling reverently and head bowed awaiting the command to stand at ease:
"I, Corellus, of the Willowreath enclave, humble myself before you. You took me in, showed me to channel a great deal of my negative aura into something positive. As one of the Crystal Fist, I have saved many lives and dealt a just end to many more. I no longer hold my mantle, by choice, but I still aim to put my teachings here to good work in gratitude of the mercy you have shown me mests ago."
The dark elf pauses to not overwhelm with his introduction.
In Velysh: "I have come with both grim news, as well as a request..."
"As far as the information i have received, Ivelis has been slain."
"In the attempt to stop Syflare from bringing wanton destruction to Orn and claiming the oceans as his domain, Ivelis made a sacrifice and both fell in the combat. In case no messenger has come to explain the absence of wind for seafaring travels and other purposes, that is the reason why."
*The elders look to each other, some muttered Velysh between them before addressing Corellus again.*
Elder: "Your information is accepted, Corellus of the Willowreath. We had noted the disappearance of the rifts in the sea, and the end of the waves and wind; though they have returned slowly over the past few days. Rise. What is this request you would make?"
The dark elf stands, and takes note of the crowd, not seeing one non-elf in sight. He takes note of this for the next thing of what he is about to say.
"I take it that at this point, your counsel is well aware of what is going on in Sardia, no?"
*What little side conversations may have still been going on in hushed tones regarding Corellus' previous comment stopped. The air of the chamber becoming noticeably more tense in the ensuing silence; as if there is much to say, but none want to say it. After a prolonged and uncomfortable period, where Corellus' felt the eyes of everyone upon him, one elder does finally give a terse reply.*
Elder: "The affairs of Sardia are none of our concern."
For a brief moment, the hint of a sneer on the dark elf's face punctuates the elder's words.
"Is that the affairs of Sardia, or the affairs of your people? You know, them." He waves his hand out wide, gesturing towards the audience present. "The threat is escalating."
*Corellus' reply did little to lighten the mood of the chamber.*
Elder: "I know them all, far better than I know you, Corellus of the Willowreath. The Moheragh and my people stand before you because we do not interfere in affairs half the world away. Of course I pray that those in Sardia are able to escape. They are Velysh, but they are not of Klasies. They are not my people; neither are you. I would choose my next words very carefully, Corellus of the Willowreath."
The dark elf lowers his brow. It feels as if all the tension throughout the room has entered him. Hands to his side, clenching his fists out of the feeling of powerlessness.
Then he remembers something. Something in his pocket. He reaches for it, slowly, as to not provoke an attack, and he holds something in his hand. His tension recedes, and his emotion is placed with hope.
"Permission to approach? What I have with me is for limited observation."
The dark elf approaches Elder Einoir, on the way saying, "The last time I visited my homeland, where my tribe once was, it was razed to the ground. The landmarks were still slightly familiar, so I was still able to find my old home..."
He stops within arms reach of Einoir, and stares at his hand, or what is in it.
"I found my mother's cache. Well hidden, and buried. But she trained me, strictly, as if she had a plan for me. She seemed to have some obsession with birds, always found them addressed in letters, thought she was crazy. But it became clear, coded messages, her unexplained excursions... we weren't meant to know. Yet. About them."
He holds out a small mithral pin, crafted in the shape of a flying raven with Velysh designs.
"Does this mean anything any more?"
*Elder Einior's eyes widened a moment, moving with surprising speed he closed Corellus' hand around the bauble. He face tense, looking Corellus in the eyes; speaking almost through grit teeth, but addressing the rest of the chamber.*
Elder Einior: "Leave us. Everyone. I will speak with Corellus. Alone."
A slight bit shocked at the reaction, the dark elf makes no sudden movements, except to turn his head ever so slightly to see people leave. He doesn't retract his hand, just waits patiently.
*Everyone else soon gone, the chambers empty except for Corellus and Elder Einior; which seemed to only make it even more imposing as the elder continued looking Corellus in the eyes, still clasping his hands over Corellus' own.*
Elder Einior: "What do you know of this?"
"I know of certain names. Buzzard, Goshawk, Shrike, Albatross, and other different birds referenced in letters. She references Raven in first person, so I know these must be aliases. Almost each number in the journals... i vaguely recall date back to times she either left for some trip alone, or came back with a guest or two outside the enclave. I can't remember it all, but with what she trained me in, I can devise it must be something important that involves the sequenati as a whole, and Ferithisia."
He calls his voice a bit, to not echo through the sanctum.
"I take it I'm not allowed to know everything, and i can respect that. But if I am right, and they still exist, why not send them?"
*Elder Einior released Corellus' hands, turning and walking over to a window overlooking Klasies. Another long silence settled over the two of them.*
Elder Einior: "Tell me, Corellus of the Willowreath, what do you know of Nespania?"
The dark elf's eyes dart back and forth as if searching for the answer in his memory before he replies. "Not enough, I'm afraid."
Elder Einior: "Nespania was the capital of a Velysh kingdom that predated the Age of Ascension. At it's peak, it spread over what is now Rastemier, up into the peninsula in Rica, and down through Faukrenost Forest to the northern side of the River Avenyst in Sardia. Legends say Geddimus Blackthorn, an avatar of Drakerim, instructed the Velysh in High Magic in order to conceal Nespania. Perhaps he foresaw what was to come..."
"The Shattering?", the dark elf murmurs. He crosses his legs and lowers himself to a seating position.
Elder Einior: *A slight chuckle* "You young Velysh are so quick to jump to what is familiar. No, we're still dealing with history from three ages ago. Several centuries after Geddimus Blackthorn visited Nespania, when the Way of the Pure took root in Sardia, the nearby Velysh were an obvious affront to their strong anti-magic stance. Starting in the Age of Ascension, and continuing through the Vedrischtal, the Way of the Pure, and then the Theocracy of Ressik, led a campaign throughout Rastemier - to destroy any and all things that went against their 'order'."
The dark elf ponders, clearly stumped, "But I'm from Rastemier, why have I not learned of any of this from my enclave? And what happened to Nespania, is it still there but hidden? ...I take it they must have fought Ressik's forces to retreat..."
Elder Einior: "I cannot speak for your enclave. Perhaps they meant to tell you when you were older, perhaps they chose not to speak of it at all. Between the Theocracy's attempt to destroy the Velysh kingdom in Rastemier, and the Velysh's not wanting to be found, there exists few records of what was once a great civilization. We've not heard anything from Nespania since the Vedrischtal, but it was within the borders of what is now Sardia. Whether that means it has been destroyed, or they are simply so deep in seclusion that they have faded from memory, I do not know."
The dark elf recalls that he was still not officially initiated as an adult by the time war separated him from his people. Mulling on the elder's words, he repeats the words in his mind it was in the borders of what is now Sardia.
His eyes go wide and he abruptly stands, "Wait, so that means either they've been overrun or have been hidden all this time? How is that not reason enough to reach out and put a stop to Ressik's forces and free the Velysh there? I understand the worry, our bodies are practically timeless until we are killed and that is a legitimate concern, but why would you not help put a stop to them knowing what they are capable of to the Velysh culture, as well as the rest of Orn?"
Elder Einior: "If they have been overrun, there is little we can do for them now. If they have remained hidden, our actions may reveal them and put them in greater danger. Asking any Velysh to face the Theocracy is no small task. I will ask Ferithisia's blessings for those in Sardia, but Klasies will not go to war with the Theocracy."
*Elder Einior turned from the window to look at Corellus; a stern, somber expression on his face.*
Elder Einior: "That does not mean that they will not, however."
The dark elf's eyes lighten up. He pulls up the sleeve of his borrowed tunic, where on his arm there are a bunch of scribbled notes in Velysh on his wrist.
Elder Einior: "Your mother was the raven. You were her apprentice, you carry her symbol. If you seek Nespania, you go not as Klasies, nor as the Willowreath; you are the crow. May Ferithisia watch over you, crow. I hope you find what you seek."
The dark elf squints, and thinks on those words before nodding and starting to head toward the door. After two steps, he looks back.
"How do I reach them? At The Roost, I mean?"
Elder Einior: "That is up to you. You learned to channel your aura once before, perhaps you may be able to focus it to a different purpose. I must reconvene the elders to tend to the other supplicants. Blessings of Ferithisia upon you, crow."
A slight gawk of confusion is donned upon the dark elf's visage, as he realizes these are all the answers he is going to get from the elder. "Farewell, then. And thank you, for everything you've taught me so far."
He bows and makes his way toward the door of the chamber, holding onto the mithral emblem that seems to be faintly emitting some sort of aura. He makes sure to stow it somewhere safe and hidden before he opens the large doors and exits the threshold. The audience who was asked to exit seem to be waiting for some hint of the conversation that occurred, but the dark elf just walks past them as if they were insignificant. They eventually resume their positions back in the chamber room, and the dark elf makes his way back to Klasies' city gates.
At this point, the merchant who smuggled him in is long gone, it having been hours since he had been waiting in line. It would not be expected for him to stay. After asking the guards, he is made sure that the merchant turned around back through Moheragh after waiting for some time. He will have to thank the valley elf at another time. Right now what is most important is to return to Jastrey, find out how to get to The Roost, and see if there is any assistance they can help in the battle against Ressik's army.