Post by fantasy on Jun 19, 2008 1:00:32 GMT -5
It was during the first light of dawn that the hidden elf village came awake. The inhabitants came out of their tiny huts and greeted friends and relatives as they went about their business, going to do their work, or to school to learn the elfish ways. This village was labeled by a rough sign that hung over a tiny gate in which few came and many went. The township of Nurlleaf was a tiny outlet, a province town of Elf-Lillian, the capital of Silyan. Nurlleaf was well known for its secrecy, its hidden arts were kept for those who were born their. Some would call it a clan, and many people shared the same last name. Aramil Nurlleaf stood at the threshold of his small cottage. He had two loving parents, one a logger and the other a healer. He smiled as he shouldered his pack, his young face beaming at the bright blue sky, and the wind blew his short hair. He then started out towards the main road of the village, wielding a finely carved walking stick.
“Aramil!” a voice came from the cottage and the young elf turned. He looked like a teenager almost, but not quite a man, to be said right. His mother stood at the door for a moment, and his younger sister was there as well. “Take your sister to school before you go wandering off!” his mother shouted and Aramil looked down at the floor and went back to the cottage and walked his sister out into the main road. “Always dragging behind me Cara.” He mumbled upset that he had to delay in his journey. They walked for a bit, Cara Nurlleaf remained silent during their journey, looking at all of the people, some who had noisy carts and others just carrying their things. They eventually reached the old school house and Aramil stopped his old teacher was there, waiting for him.
”So this is it, eh Aramil? Finally venturing out of the village…” the man said from the school door and Aramil nodded. “Remember, you’ve been chosen to represent the village at the Karkalem interracial school of magical study. Just image all of the people you’ll get to meet!” the man seemed almost jealous, but Aramil couldn’t really tell. “Oh, I bet it will be real exciting Master Elijah.” Aramil stated gripping the walking stick firmly. The truth was- the adolescent was scared of the unknown, and also a bit excited. He had earned the right to go to Artine, and represent the elfin people in Karkalem- the capital city of Artine- which was a human nation, but it welcomed all of the races to attend their sacred schools. It was a rare honor, and Aramil was forced to go… his goal of being a guard of the village had sort of died, but his dream of being a warrior would not. No matter what school he went to, he would fight on. He gave his teacher one final look and then left the small town and ventured off into the great unknown of the world.
Aramil Nurlleaf was looking at the strange path before him. It twisted and turned this way and that. There were lines of trees on both sides of him, sometimes in thick brambles, or thin like a savannah. The curious elf looked about wonderfully. He had only heard the tales of the outside by his teacher, who had once served in the royal guard for Silyan household. The Silyans’ were noble elves who were descendants of Franz- the wise and powerful elf who liberated the land of Sirenvous- where the elves were first born. For some reason, that Aramil had forgotten, the Silyans left Sirenvous and moved steadily north. The elf child smiled as he had remembered the thoughtfully lesson of the first elf king of the land Silyan, for Aramil was named after the first king- although they were was no blood relations, Aramil had treated this noble like a son would a father- a hero in Aramil’s eyes. First King Aramil had fought in the Artine wars, and brought peace to Artine, and helped sign peace treaties with First Artine King, Karkalem. It was well known that Aramil was a good king all around- and now his daughter Ara ruled the elfin people.
Aramil laughed to himself and began to hum a merry tune of his village as he walked across a bridge onto a new path. Here he would travel southward, in till he reached Elf-Lillian, the capital of Silyan. The sun began to sway towards evening as Aramil reached the Scarlet Cliffs, the border from the wilderness to the capital. He stopped to rest, knowing that if he was to make it by midday tomorrow he would need his rest. He unfolded his pack and noticed that his mother had done well…as usual. There was a small tent, a warm blanket, and plenty of food to last him weeks. He sighed, knowing that his skills in the school were barely outmatched by anyone; of course he had been shy about it. They didn’t pick him because he was named after someone famous. He had talent, no doubt, and if the worst of all things happened, he was sure it would take a dragon to put his lights out. He propped up the tent using his walking stick and laid out the blanket over the floor. Instead of laying down to rest as a normal person might, he decided to try one of his techniques: Meditation. It was a elfin art he knew, by concentrating the mind he could rest himself in half the time it took a normal being. However if he could not concentrate his mind it would fail, and he would end up losing more hours of sleep- but he had to try, seeing that he had done it before in the safety of his own home. Folding his arms he concentrated and waited for his mind to calm…
As the sun lowered into the edge of the world once more, a group of shadows begin to form. They whispered to each other and nodded and sblack personed as the sight of a lone tent near the main path to the elf capital. It would be easy picking a lone traveler… and by the looks of his tracks he was a young elf, an easy target. They crept silently along the path eying the tent with greedy eyes, their brownish skin blended into the night sky as they raised their slings. They were goblins they were, intelligent and yet somewhat tricky at the same time. They were often pawns… or just were wandering about hoping there was something to gain for them. The rocks hurled from the slings and it smacked the tent and the walking stick that held it up. It fell over the young elf inside and the goblins quickly rushed to see what they could gain from the heap of the tent. They lifted the canvas and started to rummage through the items they found in the bag.
“What is it what is it?” one of the goblins asked, his young face eager. “Quiet down Ump… this… this is…” the larger of the goblins began to step back. “Impossible…” a third one said, for the tent was empty, and so was the bag they had found. “You guys are really a bunch of cowards!” Aramil shouted as he suddenly appeared from behind a tree. He seemed unarmed but the goblins quickly turned to see the furious young elf appear. “I am Aramil Nurlleaf, the most powerful elf in all of Silyan and beyond!” he claimed raising his fist to the darkened sky and the eager goblin, known as Ump began to shake in his tiny boots. “Ump, quit your shaking, this here elf is just a kid, even if he was chosen for some ‘awesome’ school.” The first goblin said quietly and Aramil was taken aback. “How did you know-?” he asked and the two older goblins chuckled raising their weapons which resembled spear like instruments. “It is obvious. Every year eager young elves just like you go prancing about thinking they can scare off the goblin raiders. Well I know better than that!” the goblin spat and Aramil grew a bit worried, but then he remembered his training- oh at last he would be able to prove himself. How desperate it would be for him to beat these goblins to a pulp. Still… something wasn’t right about their appearance. Besides the eager one, they were will spoke unlike more goblins. They had quite dangerous weapons, they almost felt like assassins. Aramil then went back to chance. He eyed the biggest goblin first, then the smartest one. He had to get his walking stick, in order to fight. He raised his hands carefully pointing his fingers at the eager goblin- that would be his target; he would have to test the morale of these warriors before him. They edged closer there weapons getting closer to him, he took a step back. He then reached deep into his mind, to apply his training in magic. The most common source of this was through the absorption of manna through an element, or he could just try and summon the spell by usage of runes or incantation… he opened his mind and stared directly at Ump- then he raised his hand and began to mouth the words, then he said them out loud. “Bal-jar--man-tosido-garma!” he bellowed and a flash of bright, unshakable light appeared and the goblins covered their eyes groaning- it was quite a clever move, knowing that he was currently unarmed, and that goblins generally did not prefer the light of day, or any light for that matter- they were cave dwellers, unless they were born and bred in the sun. Aramil dove passed them and grabbed his walking stick. He took this time to grab his bag, and instead of ending the goblin raiders, he would leave them their, stunned for a time.
Chapter two
The grand elf city
After the quick encounter with the goblins, Aramil Nurlleaf found himself in midst of a dense forest. He wasn’t really well rested, and he had eaten only once since he had left the attack. The summoning of the flare magic made him weak and bitter almost. He tried to forget about the comforts of home- knowing that about this time he would be taking Cara to school again. He spat, like what grown up cutthroats did, and the stalked off into the forest again. He often thought of the goblins- and this made him think of how foolish he was to let them get close to him. However, he had left it at that, and hoped that would not bother him again- after all he hadn’t choked in the middle of a battle- however small and pathetic it seemed. He had won! Won it all, and used his skills accordingly, or had he? He felt he was still the same kid he was when he left Nurlleaf and he smiled. He was named after the greatest elf king of Silyan- and the best hidden elf village ever! He weaved in an out of the trees when finally he found himself face to face with one of the most magnificent things he had ever seen. Before him stood the grand light grey stone walls, and the thick twisted vines that covered them. The grand north gate was facing him and he smiled broadly as he saw the guards on top of the battlements move back and forth eying the forest carefully. He took a step forward and walked through the open gates. He was greeted nonchalantly by the two guards stationed at the gate and he gave them a customary bow. As he stepped through the village he found that he had no gold on him- or any currency at all. He did have a special notice slip of paper that told him where to go. He was to go to the Elf-Lillian academy, and from there he would be escorted to the docks and then to Karkalem. After wandering the streets for sometime, Aramil found his way to the academy. It was full of eager students and he was herded towards a reception desk where he would fill out his forms. Aramil had felt that he had just arrived in the capital and already things were being rushed. The air about him was very exciting, and yet he felt he was going to go around the world, and yet not get the time to see it all.
“Sir, state your name please, we need your registration form!” a young elf lady called from the desk and Aramil approached carefully. “My name is Aramil Nurlleaf, chosen to attend the academy in Karkalem.” He said handing the woman his papers and she stamped it and told him to go to the docks in one hour- there was time still to search the city for interesting things to see. The young elf quickly raced from the school- he was just as eager as he had left. He walked briskly down the streets looking at all of the interesting things he had always heard about, but never got to see or touch. There was the grand palace in the western quarter, where Queen Ara and the royal family was, most likely filling out papers and discussing world affairs. He then saw the great elfish library where there were more books than he had ever seen. Rows and rows of lore and fantasy tales he had grown up with, some were foreign to him. After his quick bout around the city he decided to get to the docks early, hoping that they would have enough space on the boats for him to sleep. As he got closer he noticed that a small crowd had already showed up and there was a tough looking man wielding a fierce pike guarding the entrance to the docks. Aramil waiting, and finally everyone who was going showed up- it wasn’t as many as he had thought there would be…
“Listen up all of you. First of all congratulations on being accepted in the recruiting of the Karkalem Academy; It is a rare honor to go to this school so make the elf nation proud!” he shouted and many of the elves cheered, they were young, just like Aramil was. Then the rough looking elf gestured towards the boat in front of them. “This will be our transport, the Lilacs… it’s a grand vessel, one the queen herself rode in a long time ago…” the elf trailed off as if he had remembered the voyage himself. “Last of all, if you have a problem, then talk to me, Captain Savrix!” he let his name fall over the young elves, some of the murmured amongst themselves, but Aramil just stared. He had heard of Captain Emmel Savrix, and his noble deeds and heroic ventures into the wild. Then a low whistle was blown and everyone moved towards the boat and Aramil was herded on board. The young elf gave Elf-Lillian once last look before he was stationed in his own cabin. It was a noisy aboard the ship, loud and cluttered for the most part, and it slowly moved off, although in the privacy of his own room, Aramil thought about the dangers ahead of him. There were more captains on board than just Emmel Savrix, but none of them held the same reputation.
“Aramil!” a voice came from the cottage and the young elf turned. He looked like a teenager almost, but not quite a man, to be said right. His mother stood at the door for a moment, and his younger sister was there as well. “Take your sister to school before you go wandering off!” his mother shouted and Aramil looked down at the floor and went back to the cottage and walked his sister out into the main road. “Always dragging behind me Cara.” He mumbled upset that he had to delay in his journey. They walked for a bit, Cara Nurlleaf remained silent during their journey, looking at all of the people, some who had noisy carts and others just carrying their things. They eventually reached the old school house and Aramil stopped his old teacher was there, waiting for him.
”So this is it, eh Aramil? Finally venturing out of the village…” the man said from the school door and Aramil nodded. “Remember, you’ve been chosen to represent the village at the Karkalem interracial school of magical study. Just image all of the people you’ll get to meet!” the man seemed almost jealous, but Aramil couldn’t really tell. “Oh, I bet it will be real exciting Master Elijah.” Aramil stated gripping the walking stick firmly. The truth was- the adolescent was scared of the unknown, and also a bit excited. He had earned the right to go to Artine, and represent the elfin people in Karkalem- the capital city of Artine- which was a human nation, but it welcomed all of the races to attend their sacred schools. It was a rare honor, and Aramil was forced to go… his goal of being a guard of the village had sort of died, but his dream of being a warrior would not. No matter what school he went to, he would fight on. He gave his teacher one final look and then left the small town and ventured off into the great unknown of the world.
Aramil Nurlleaf was looking at the strange path before him. It twisted and turned this way and that. There were lines of trees on both sides of him, sometimes in thick brambles, or thin like a savannah. The curious elf looked about wonderfully. He had only heard the tales of the outside by his teacher, who had once served in the royal guard for Silyan household. The Silyans’ were noble elves who were descendants of Franz- the wise and powerful elf who liberated the land of Sirenvous- where the elves were first born. For some reason, that Aramil had forgotten, the Silyans left Sirenvous and moved steadily north. The elf child smiled as he had remembered the thoughtfully lesson of the first elf king of the land Silyan, for Aramil was named after the first king- although they were was no blood relations, Aramil had treated this noble like a son would a father- a hero in Aramil’s eyes. First King Aramil had fought in the Artine wars, and brought peace to Artine, and helped sign peace treaties with First Artine King, Karkalem. It was well known that Aramil was a good king all around- and now his daughter Ara ruled the elfin people.
Aramil laughed to himself and began to hum a merry tune of his village as he walked across a bridge onto a new path. Here he would travel southward, in till he reached Elf-Lillian, the capital of Silyan. The sun began to sway towards evening as Aramil reached the Scarlet Cliffs, the border from the wilderness to the capital. He stopped to rest, knowing that if he was to make it by midday tomorrow he would need his rest. He unfolded his pack and noticed that his mother had done well…as usual. There was a small tent, a warm blanket, and plenty of food to last him weeks. He sighed, knowing that his skills in the school were barely outmatched by anyone; of course he had been shy about it. They didn’t pick him because he was named after someone famous. He had talent, no doubt, and if the worst of all things happened, he was sure it would take a dragon to put his lights out. He propped up the tent using his walking stick and laid out the blanket over the floor. Instead of laying down to rest as a normal person might, he decided to try one of his techniques: Meditation. It was a elfin art he knew, by concentrating the mind he could rest himself in half the time it took a normal being. However if he could not concentrate his mind it would fail, and he would end up losing more hours of sleep- but he had to try, seeing that he had done it before in the safety of his own home. Folding his arms he concentrated and waited for his mind to calm…
As the sun lowered into the edge of the world once more, a group of shadows begin to form. They whispered to each other and nodded and sblack personed as the sight of a lone tent near the main path to the elf capital. It would be easy picking a lone traveler… and by the looks of his tracks he was a young elf, an easy target. They crept silently along the path eying the tent with greedy eyes, their brownish skin blended into the night sky as they raised their slings. They were goblins they were, intelligent and yet somewhat tricky at the same time. They were often pawns… or just were wandering about hoping there was something to gain for them. The rocks hurled from the slings and it smacked the tent and the walking stick that held it up. It fell over the young elf inside and the goblins quickly rushed to see what they could gain from the heap of the tent. They lifted the canvas and started to rummage through the items they found in the bag.
“What is it what is it?” one of the goblins asked, his young face eager. “Quiet down Ump… this… this is…” the larger of the goblins began to step back. “Impossible…” a third one said, for the tent was empty, and so was the bag they had found. “You guys are really a bunch of cowards!” Aramil shouted as he suddenly appeared from behind a tree. He seemed unarmed but the goblins quickly turned to see the furious young elf appear. “I am Aramil Nurlleaf, the most powerful elf in all of Silyan and beyond!” he claimed raising his fist to the darkened sky and the eager goblin, known as Ump began to shake in his tiny boots. “Ump, quit your shaking, this here elf is just a kid, even if he was chosen for some ‘awesome’ school.” The first goblin said quietly and Aramil was taken aback. “How did you know-?” he asked and the two older goblins chuckled raising their weapons which resembled spear like instruments. “It is obvious. Every year eager young elves just like you go prancing about thinking they can scare off the goblin raiders. Well I know better than that!” the goblin spat and Aramil grew a bit worried, but then he remembered his training- oh at last he would be able to prove himself. How desperate it would be for him to beat these goblins to a pulp. Still… something wasn’t right about their appearance. Besides the eager one, they were will spoke unlike more goblins. They had quite dangerous weapons, they almost felt like assassins. Aramil then went back to chance. He eyed the biggest goblin first, then the smartest one. He had to get his walking stick, in order to fight. He raised his hands carefully pointing his fingers at the eager goblin- that would be his target; he would have to test the morale of these warriors before him. They edged closer there weapons getting closer to him, he took a step back. He then reached deep into his mind, to apply his training in magic. The most common source of this was through the absorption of manna through an element, or he could just try and summon the spell by usage of runes or incantation… he opened his mind and stared directly at Ump- then he raised his hand and began to mouth the words, then he said them out loud. “Bal-jar--man-tosido-garma!” he bellowed and a flash of bright, unshakable light appeared and the goblins covered their eyes groaning- it was quite a clever move, knowing that he was currently unarmed, and that goblins generally did not prefer the light of day, or any light for that matter- they were cave dwellers, unless they were born and bred in the sun. Aramil dove passed them and grabbed his walking stick. He took this time to grab his bag, and instead of ending the goblin raiders, he would leave them their, stunned for a time.
Chapter two
The grand elf city
After the quick encounter with the goblins, Aramil Nurlleaf found himself in midst of a dense forest. He wasn’t really well rested, and he had eaten only once since he had left the attack. The summoning of the flare magic made him weak and bitter almost. He tried to forget about the comforts of home- knowing that about this time he would be taking Cara to school again. He spat, like what grown up cutthroats did, and the stalked off into the forest again. He often thought of the goblins- and this made him think of how foolish he was to let them get close to him. However, he had left it at that, and hoped that would not bother him again- after all he hadn’t choked in the middle of a battle- however small and pathetic it seemed. He had won! Won it all, and used his skills accordingly, or had he? He felt he was still the same kid he was when he left Nurlleaf and he smiled. He was named after the greatest elf king of Silyan- and the best hidden elf village ever! He weaved in an out of the trees when finally he found himself face to face with one of the most magnificent things he had ever seen. Before him stood the grand light grey stone walls, and the thick twisted vines that covered them. The grand north gate was facing him and he smiled broadly as he saw the guards on top of the battlements move back and forth eying the forest carefully. He took a step forward and walked through the open gates. He was greeted nonchalantly by the two guards stationed at the gate and he gave them a customary bow. As he stepped through the village he found that he had no gold on him- or any currency at all. He did have a special notice slip of paper that told him where to go. He was to go to the Elf-Lillian academy, and from there he would be escorted to the docks and then to Karkalem. After wandering the streets for sometime, Aramil found his way to the academy. It was full of eager students and he was herded towards a reception desk where he would fill out his forms. Aramil had felt that he had just arrived in the capital and already things were being rushed. The air about him was very exciting, and yet he felt he was going to go around the world, and yet not get the time to see it all.
“Sir, state your name please, we need your registration form!” a young elf lady called from the desk and Aramil approached carefully. “My name is Aramil Nurlleaf, chosen to attend the academy in Karkalem.” He said handing the woman his papers and she stamped it and told him to go to the docks in one hour- there was time still to search the city for interesting things to see. The young elf quickly raced from the school- he was just as eager as he had left. He walked briskly down the streets looking at all of the interesting things he had always heard about, but never got to see or touch. There was the grand palace in the western quarter, where Queen Ara and the royal family was, most likely filling out papers and discussing world affairs. He then saw the great elfish library where there were more books than he had ever seen. Rows and rows of lore and fantasy tales he had grown up with, some were foreign to him. After his quick bout around the city he decided to get to the docks early, hoping that they would have enough space on the boats for him to sleep. As he got closer he noticed that a small crowd had already showed up and there was a tough looking man wielding a fierce pike guarding the entrance to the docks. Aramil waiting, and finally everyone who was going showed up- it wasn’t as many as he had thought there would be…
“Listen up all of you. First of all congratulations on being accepted in the recruiting of the Karkalem Academy; It is a rare honor to go to this school so make the elf nation proud!” he shouted and many of the elves cheered, they were young, just like Aramil was. Then the rough looking elf gestured towards the boat in front of them. “This will be our transport, the Lilacs… it’s a grand vessel, one the queen herself rode in a long time ago…” the elf trailed off as if he had remembered the voyage himself. “Last of all, if you have a problem, then talk to me, Captain Savrix!” he let his name fall over the young elves, some of the murmured amongst themselves, but Aramil just stared. He had heard of Captain Emmel Savrix, and his noble deeds and heroic ventures into the wild. Then a low whistle was blown and everyone moved towards the boat and Aramil was herded on board. The young elf gave Elf-Lillian once last look before he was stationed in his own cabin. It was a noisy aboard the ship, loud and cluttered for the most part, and it slowly moved off, although in the privacy of his own room, Aramil thought about the dangers ahead of him. There were more captains on board than just Emmel Savrix, but none of them held the same reputation.