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Riend (prime): Difference between revisions
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|name=Riend Ar'Fiernel |
|name=Riend Ar'Fiernel |
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|image=[[File:Ariend3colors.jpg|thumb|right|Riend Ar'Fiernel, as rendered by [[User:MAZEIKISJ | MAZEIKISJ]]]] |
|image=[[File:Ariend3colors.jpg|thumb|right|Riend Ar'Fiernel, as rendered by [[User:MAZEIKISJ | MAZEIKISJ]]]] |
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|race= |
|race=Sylvankind |
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|class=[[Rogue]] |
|class=[[Rogue]] |
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|profession= [[Master Artisan]] |
|profession= [[Master Artisan]] |
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You see Riend Ar'Fiernel the Master Artisan.<br /> |
You see Riend Ar'Fiernel the Master Artisan.<br /> |
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She appears to be a Sylvankind.<br /> |
She appears to be a Sylvankind.<br /> |
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She is tall in stature and has a lithesome, nimble build. She appears to be in the bloom of youth. She has expressive, |
She is tall in stature and has a lithesome, nimble build. She appears to be in the bloom of youth. She has expressive, chestnut-haloed malachite green eyes and gardenia white skin. She has fine, textured hellebore black hair cropped to fall in tousled, sheared layers reaching just below her ears. She has an oval face, a gently sloped nose and slender shoulders. Though her features are predominantly sylvan, subtleties in the shape of her face and the tilt of her eyes appear faintly erithian. |
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==Origin== |
==Origin== |
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Riend’s home |
Riend’s home lies deep within the southeast forests of Elanthia, nestled between the site of the once-great sylvan stronghold of Nevishrim and the winding cliffs of Barrett’s Gorge. The settlement was first established in the year 1343, though some of the older families whisper of an even earlier encampment near Ne’Yuscarl Point, the truth of which depends on which founding family’s tale you hear. |
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It was the wise and honorable sylvan mage, Illiweth Siergeth, who united the sylvankind of all the D'ahranal following the closing of Yuriqen. Seeking refuge from the turmoil that followed, they first made their way to the fringes of the Southron Wastes, gathering sylvans who had fled after the battle with Myrdanian. From there, they retraced the ancient paths that had once guided their people to the Silver Veil.<br /> |
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===The First Year=== |
===The First Year=== |
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With so many |
With so many in their caravan, it took nearly a decade to traverse the harsh, unyielding terrain to the dense, shadowed forests cradled at the base of the Dragonspine. Along the way, relentless conditions, constant peril, and the creeping shadow of sickness took their toll. What had once been a thriving caravan of tens of thousands dwindled to barely three thousand weary survivors. |
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In the early spring of 1343, the |
In the early spring of 1343, the sylvans established the settlement of Llythwere—a fragile yet defiant symbol of their resilience. A people long bound to a nomadic existence finally began to root themselves, carving out a home amidst the towering, ancient trees. Plans were drawn for a modest but unmistakably sylvan haven high within the forest canopy, a tribute to their deep connection with nature. But before construction could begin, foraging patrols were dispatched to gather essential materials. None returned. |
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Fear seeped into the fledgling settlement like a slow poison. Whispers of abandoning Llythwere and seeking refuge in Ta’Illistim gained momentum, the prospect of enduring the elves’ overbearing presence deemed preferable to facing a mysterious and lethal unknown. The newly formed sylvan council convened, their deliberations fraught with desperation. After two tense weeks, they resolved to stay, choosing to confront the encroaching darkness rather than retreat. |
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Fear wove its way through the people of Llythwere and talk of moving north closer to the civilization of Ta’Illistim was on everyone’s minds. The idea of dealing with the intrusive elves seemed the lesser evil to dying in the wilderness. The fledgling council, which had only just been created a few weeks prior, deliberated for a fortnight on the matter before deciding that they would remain in Llythwere, <br /> |
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But as the days stretched into weeks, an invisible menace began to plague the settlement. There was no sign of an enemy, no clues left behind—only the chilling fact that sylvans were disappearing. Men, women, and children vanished without warning, taken in the dead of night. Each morning brought fresh grief as families awoke to discover empty beds and loved ones gone. No one was safe. No one understood what hunted them. |
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It wasn’t until |
It wasn’t until the fourth month that the truth was finally revealed: a ruthless band of rogue Faendryl had targeted Llythwere. Weak from their arduous journey, the sylvans were no match for the relentless raiders. Malnourished and poorly armed, they suffered devastating losses as the Faendryl struck again and again. By the end of the brutal assaults, fewer than five hundred sylvans remained. |
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The situation grew increasingly dire. The Ne’Yuscarl, their stalwart protectors, were nearly wiped out, and Illiweth Siergeth, their last great mage, was gravely ill. The once-powerful Nanrithowan wards that had shielded their people were now beyond their reach, their magic fading with no one left to sustain it. Armed with only a handful of weapons and dwindling resolve, the sylvans faced annihilation. |
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The raiding continued through the spring and, by mid summer, there were less than a hundred sylvans left in Llythwere. What little supplies they had would not last through the winter, and they were incapable of producing crops and too frightened to set out into the forest to forage. Desperate to save their people, the council sought the aid of Imaera and held a commune that lasted nine days and nights. In the early morning of the ninth day, Imaera appeared before them and spoke to the sylvans of a great sacrifice to be made for salvation. That in giving up that which they held dearest, they would be saved from the threat and Lylthwere would thrive for many generations. <br /> |
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The raids persisted through the spring, and by midsummer, Llythwere was on the brink of collapse. Fewer than a hundred sylvans remained, their supplies nearly gone. They could not farm, dared not forage in the dangerous woods, and faced the looming specter of a deadly winter. Desperate, the council turned to the goddess Imaera, convening a nine-day and nine-night commune to plead for salvation. |
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Her riddles perplexed the council, and they spent days meditating on its meaning. A decision was never made and enlightenment was not discovered for three days after the commune Illiweth Siegeth passed in her sleep. The last known mage of Yuriquen and, with so few sylvans left to learn the arts or power the spells, any hope of establishing protective wards gone with her. <br /> |
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On the final morning, Imaera appeared before them. Her presence was both ethereal and unnerving, her voice echoing with the weight of divine power. "Sacrifice that which you hold most dear," she intoned, "and your people will endure. Llythwere shall prosper for generations to come." |
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Despite their meager means, the sylvans held a traditional memorial for their leader and laid her to rest in the foothills of the Dragonspine. The council took her passing as an omen: Imaera’s prophecy come true. They bade their people to wait patiently for the promised prosperity, but the cold of winter and the empty bellys of the children left the sylvans ill at ease. <br /> |
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Her cryptic words left the council in turmoil. They debated endlessly, searching for the meaning of her riddle, but no consensus was reached. Their indecision proved costly. Three days after the commune ended, Illiweth Siergeth passed quietly in her sleep. As the last mage of Yuriqen, her death marked the end of their hope to wield ancient magic or fortify their defenses. |
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The sylvans mourned her passing with a solemn ceremony in the foothills of the Dragonspine. Her death was seen as a grim fulfillment of Imaera’s prophecy, a harbinger of the sacrifice she had foretold. The council urged the people to endure and to trust in the goddess’s promise of prosperity. But as the chill of winter crept into the forest and the cries of hungry children echoed through the settlement, doubt began to fester among the survivors. |
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By the beginning of the new year, the sylvans were desperate. Food stores were empty and they had taken to stripping the bark of nearby trees to feed themselves. Sickness and injury riddled what was left of the small community, threatening to end their dwindling family. <br /> |
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What members of the Ne’Yuscarl remained took up patrolling the forests to forage for any food and herbs they could find. On one such trip Gearith Tilweth was caught in a terrible snowfall, unable to make the trip home. The blizzard lasted days and weak with hunger, the sylvan became lost in the forest and feared for his life. <br /> |
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By the dawn of the new year, the sylvans were teetering on the brink of ruin. Their food stores had long since been depleted, forcing them to strip bark from the surrounding trees in a desperate attempt to stave off starvation. Sickness and injury swept through the settlement like an unrelenting tide, threatening to extinguish what little remained of their once-proud community. |
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It is not known how long he traveled blindly through the heavy storm, or would have continued to had he not come upon a small encampment. A group of people, the likes of which he had never seen before greeted him kindly, though guardedly. Their height rivaled that of the the giantkin he had once glimpsed on a trail through Barrett’s Gorge. Both their male and females were completely bald on top of their heads but all had extremely long, pale hair that flowed down to their waists. But what was most striking about these fair, strange people were their eyes. Instead of pupils, their light eyes had slitted sclera. <br /> |
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The few surviving members of the Ne’Yuscarl patrolled the forests daily, hunting for anything that might sustain their people. During one such mission, Gearith Tilweth was caught in the grip of a fierce blizzard. Disoriented and weak with hunger, he lost his way in the endless expanse of snow-covered woods, the howling wind drowning his calls for help. |
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Too hungry and weak to be truly afraid, he accepted the hospitality of these people and quickly fell asleep by their fire. He woke only once in the night to speak deliriously of his people and their plight before passing out again. The next morning he did not wake, and a quiet prayer was spoken over the body.<br /> |
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The storm raged on for days, and Gearith’s strength began to wane. Just as hope seemed to slip beyond his grasp, he stumbled into a small encampment hidden deep within the forest. There, a group of people unlike any he had ever encountered greeted him with wary kindness. |
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After a lengthy discussion about what to do with the body, the group came to a labored decision. Instead of leaving the sylph’s body, the strangers took him and returned him to Lythwere, curious about the people the small man has spoken of. <br /> |
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They were striking figures, their towering stature reminiscent of the giantkin Gearith had glimpsed once in Barrett’s Gorge. Both men and women were bald at the crowns of their heads, but long, pale hair flowed down their backs like silken cascades. Their eyes, however, were what truly set them apart—pale and slitted, gleaming with a predatory sharpness. |
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At first, the sylvans were wary. It had not been an entire season since the Faendryl’s attacks and their desire for peace and solitude from the outside world, as well as the discovery of their deceased brotherkin made them less than hospitable.<br /> |
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Too weak to feel fear, Gearith accepted their hospitality and collapsed by their fire, exhausted beyond resistance. He awoke briefly during the night, feverish and muttering incoherently about his people and their plight before succumbing once more to unconsciousness. When dawn broke, Gearith did not wake. |
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Communication between the sylvans and the strangers was difficult and frustrating in the beginning. Their language sounded lyrical to the sylvans but held no discernable alphabet or dialect they knew. The strangers, whom the sylvans gathered called themselves the “Erithi,” could understand pieces of the sylvan language but prefered to answer in elven. Having distanced themselves from their elven cousins for millennia, there were very sylvans few left who spoke the language. <br /> |
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The strangers, who called themselves the "erithi," murmured a solemn prayer over his lifeless form. After a lengthy deliberation, they resolved to return his body to Llythwere, their curiosity piqued by the sylvans he had spoken of in his delirium. |
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After a brief adjustment period, the two races were able to communicate through a strange mix of languages and drawings. The Erithi offered the sylvans their protection, supplies to keep them through the winter, and assistance rebuilding their homes. Such an offer seemed too good to be true, but left with their proposal or a winter they weren’t certain they would survive… they had no choice.<br /> |
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When the erithi arrived at the settlement, the sylvans met them with suspicion and fear. Memories of the Faendryl raids were still raw, and the sight of outsiders—especially ones so otherworldly—stirred unease among the survivors. The discovery of Gearith’s lifeless body only deepened their mistrust. |
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An accord was struck and within a week more Erithians appeared in Lythwere bearing desperately needed food, medicine and supplies to build. Before long a tentative friendship blossomed between the two races, despite the looming shadow of their bargain. <br /> |
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Communication proved to be a daunting barrier. The erithi spoke in a lilting, lyrical language unfamiliar to the sylvans. While they seemed to understand fragments of the sylvan tongue, they responded primarily in elven—an ancient language that few sylvans still spoke, having distanced themselves from their elven kin over the centuries. |
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Through a halting blend of broken languages, gestures, and crude drawings, the two groups eventually found a fragile understanding. The erithi offered the sylvans something unimaginable: protection, supplies to last the winter, and aid in rebuilding their shattered homes. Though the offer seemed almost too generous, the sylvans had no choice. Survival outweighed suspicion, and they reluctantly accepted. |
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By the time spring was settling in the forest the sylvans were flourishing. Their homes now spanned the tallest branches of the forest and their people were well-fed and strong. Very little thought was given to the conditions of their bargain with the Erithi and the two races existed in amicable prosperity.<br /> |
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Within a week, more erithi arrived at Llythwere. They came bearing food, medicine, and sturdy materials for construction. Despite the lingering tension, a tentative bond began to form between the two peoples. The sylvans, long accustomed to isolation, found themselves reliant on the erithi’s aid, their once impenetrable walls of mistrust slowly beginning to crack. |
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Two more seasons passed, bringing the with it the anniversary of the arrival of the Erithians to Lythwere and a new uneasiness settled like a blanket across the settlement. Would their new friends leave and sever all ties with them? Would the conditions of their bargain finally be made clear?<br /> |
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Though the shadow of the sylvans' recent trials hung heavily over Llythwere, a faint glimmer of hope began to stir. For the first time in months, the sylvans dared to believe they might endure the winter—and perhaps even rebuild the life they had lost. |
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The Erithians met with the sylvan council and with a year to learn the other’s language, they were able to communicate easily this time, leaving little room for misunderstanding. In exchange for the help given to the sylvans, the Erithians sought to expand their population and experiment with genetics. Over the centuries their ability to produce healthy offspring had diminished and the threat to their clan was dire. To this end they would require one sylvan of female sex from each generation to conceive a child with an erithi male. <br /> |
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The sylvans were shocked and horrified, they railed against such a horrific demand, feeling as if they had been tricked by their exotic benefactors. With no other recourse honor bound them to accept this condition, but the goodwill built between the two races was severely damaged. <br /> |
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By the time spring breathed new life into the forest, the sylvans had thrived. Their homes stretched high into the ancient trees, blending seamlessly with the verdant canopy. The once-fragile settlement had grown strong and self-sufficient, with abundant harvests lifting their spirits. The conditions of their bargain with the erithi, once a source of constant worry, had faded into the background, overshadowed by their newfound prosperity. The two races coexisted in a harmony that seemed, for a time, like a lasting peace. |
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Tenets of the bargain were marked down and signed by both parties over the next few days. The sylvan was required to be between the ages of 300-350, as these were considered to be the most fertile years by the Erithians. She must also be healthy to lessen any chance of transmitting diseases to the male or the child. She must also be a virgin in order to ensure the child’s paternity. <br /> |
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Yet, as the seasons turned, an uneasy tension settled over Llythwere like a mist. As the anniversary of the erithi’s arrival approached, the sylvans found themselves wondering: Would their benefactors reveal the full extent of the bargain? And if so, what price would they demand for their aid? |
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This process, for the sylvans refused to acknowledge it as any kind of union, would take place in Lythwere and the “couple” would be housed together during conception and throughout the term of the pregnancy. If the couple were not able to conceive over the course of a year, steps would be taken to select another female to replace her. <br /> |
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When the erithi returned, they met with the sylvan council. A year of shared language lessons had bridged the gap between their two cultures, leaving little room for misunderstanding. The erithi revealed the true cost of their assistance: they sought to expand their dwindling population. Over centuries, their ability to produce healthy offspring had declined, threatening their survival. To preserve their lineage, they sought to mix the two races by requiring a sylvan be tithed every fifty years. |
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Any offspring that resulted in the bargain would automatically be given to the male and returned to their clan to be raised as they saw fit. The mother would never see the child again. Of all the conditions in this bargain, this was the only one the Erithi capitulated on. One female child in every ten generations would be allowed to remain with the sylvan mother, but would be required to be tithed when she came of age.<br /> |
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The revelation was met with shock and horror. The sylvans, who had come to view the erithi as benevolent allies, recoiled at this demand. It felt like a betrayal, a condition that defied the very principles of equality and respect. But honor-bound by their agreement and without any other options, the sylvans reluctantly accepted. The goodwill between the two races fractured under the weight of this grim bargain. |
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With no choice, the council discussed the bargain with the people and shared in their horror and sorrow. They sought to discover ways to keep their bloodlines strong and clean, while spreading the burden of this bargain out among them. It was decided that each family would take turns, offering up one child every twelfth generation. How they chose the child from their own growing families was left to their own choosing.<br /> |
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Tensions simmered as years passed. Despite the agreement, nearly a decade went by without any children being conceived. The erithi grew frustrated, accusing the sylvans of sabotage, while the sylvans insisted they were honoring the bargain. Desperate for answers, the sylvan council sought advice from their herbalists. One elder recalled a failed attempt to cross-pollinate silver veil trees with local species; the genetic differences were too great to produce viable seeds. |
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The sylvans |
The sylvans brought their findings to the erithi, who listened with quiet intensity. After a cryptic acknowledgment, the erithi announced they would return with a solution. Without another word, they departed, leaving the sylvans to wonder about the future of their fragile alliance.<br /> |
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===A Less than Welcome Return=== |
===A Less than Welcome Return=== |
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It took nearly a year for the erithi to return to the sylvan settlement with an answer to their problem. To the dismay and general horror of the people, they were informed that a ritual would be performed between the pledged male and |
It took nearly a year for the erithi to return to the sylvan settlement with an answer to their problem. To the dismay and general horror of the people, they were informed that a ritual spell would be performed between the pledged male and female. Their blood would be combined within the arcane circle, and through the spell’s completion, their essences would intertwine, ensuring conception. The bond formed during the ritual would remain until the child’s birth, at which point it would be severed, and the two participants would be allowed to part. |
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At the time, very little was understood of blood magic, but |
At the time, very little was understood of blood magic, but it has since been revealed as the foundation of the tithe ritual practiced in the tithing. Due to a deep mistrust of magic beyond the most common spheres, such as elemental or healing magic, anything more arcane—particularly blood magic—is viewed with suspicion among the sylvans of Llythwere. This distrust stems from the very origins of the tithing accord. |
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After a period of preparation, the ritual |
After a period of preparation, the ritual was conducted under the light of the second full moon of the year. Only the elders were permitted to witness the event, leaving much of its exact nature shrouded in mystery. What is known, however, is that the couple’s blood was symbolically combined in an intricate spell, forging a magical connection between them. Over the following days, the spell completed its purpose, and a child was conceived. As promised, once the child was born, the bond was dissolved. The erithi took the child to raise, and the sylvan mother was granted freedom to choose her own path, unbound by the rules of the tithing. |
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For over thirty-seven hundred years the tithing has been upheld by the sylvans |
For over thirty-seven hundred years, the tithing ritual has been upheld by the sylvans without fail. In that time, they have flourished, building a true home for themselves. While they may never reclaim the golden age nurtured in Yuriqen, they have forged a society rooted in the traditions of their people.<br /> |
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===The Almost Uprising=== |
===The Almost Uprising=== |
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Riend’s mother, Saoirce Ar’Fiernel, was a |
Riend’s mother, Saoirce Ar’Fiernel, was a celebrated mage of Llythwere and one of the last pupils of the revered Illiweth Siergeth. With the sylvans thriving under her guidance and their numbers steadily increasing, Saoirce sought to enhance the Nanrithowan, the protective wards that shielded their settlement. Her innovations even allowed the erithi to pass through the wards unscathed, a privilege she alone had the power to revoke. When her time for tithing arrived, she considered doing just that, using her magic to sever the bond and banish the erithi from their lands. |
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Saoirce viewed the practice of tithing as barbaric and began to rally others who shared her unease. Her resolve sparked unrest within the community, and what began as quiet dissent grew into organized opposition. Many feared her rebellion would bring an end to the tithing and, with it, the prosperity the sylvans had gained through their alliance with the erithi. Without the support of their benefactors, some believed the sylvans would fall back into hardship. |
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As Saoirce’s conviction deepened, it was her grandmother who stepped forward to intervene. The elder spoke to her with measured wisdom. “The tithe is not a punishment,” she said. “It is a burden we bear with pride, for in fulfilling it, we honor our people, our ancestors, and the covenant that safeguards our future. There is no greater honor than placing the needs of others above your own.” |
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Her grandmother’s words struck a chord, planting a seed of doubt in Saoirce’s heart. That doubt slowly grew, tempering her defiance and rekindling a sense of duty. In time, she abandoned her rebellion, dedicating herself instead to instilling that same sense of purpose in her daughter.<br /> |
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When Riend was born, her mother was filled with joy and sorrow. Having been born ten generations after the last female in her line, Saoirce was allowed to keep and raise her, but it would also sentence her to the same fate she had with the tithe. Resigned to the fate her daughter would endure, she sought to give her a life of freedom she, personally, had not known. <br /> |
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When Riend was born, her mother’s heart swelled with both joy and sorrow. As the first female born in her line in three generations, Saoirce was granted the rare privilege of keeping and raising her daughter. Yet, with this gift came an inescapable truth: Riend would be bound to the same fate Saoirce had endured—the tithe. With a heavy heart, Saoirce resigned herself to the inevitable path her daughter would follow, but vowed to give her a life of freedom she herself had never known. |
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Riend was raised like any sylvan child, taught to hunt with a bow, hide and live within the forest. When she was old enough, her mother tasked her to travel under the guise of bringing knowledge from the west to their forest. Allowing her the freedom to explore the world and experiences cultures previously unknown to them, Riend was given this blessing and curse. Her travels took her across Elanith and eventually she settled in the town of Wehnimer’s Landing, falling in love with it’s rustic nature settled in the untamed wilderness.<br /> |
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Riend was raised as any sylvan child would be—taught to hunt with a bow, to hide among the trees, and to live in harmony with the forest. As she grew, her mother gave her a task: to journey westward, carrying knowledge to their people. It was both a gift and a burden. A chance to explore the world beyond the borders of Lythwere, to experience lands and cultures her people had never known. Riend embraced this rare opportunity, unaware that her travels would lead her into the very chains she sought to escape. |
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With the world stretched out before her she lived, full of hope and wonder… bound to a future without realizing she was chained.<br /> |
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Her journey took her across Elanitha, eventually leading her to the rugged town of Wehnimer’s Landing. There, surrounded by untamed wilderness, she fell in love with the land’s raw beauty and rustic charm. |
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=== Possession === |
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During the early years of the 5110s, Riend found herself caught in the midst of a plot so vile it threatened to unravel the world she had come to love. Grishom Stone, a rogue blood mage consumed by vengeance, sought to create an urnon golem that would allow the demon Althedeus to rise again and wreak havoc across the lands. To power the ritual, Stone needed 100 souls, and in a twisted act of retribution for the betrayal of his lover, Madelyne, he hunted down women who shared her features. |
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One fateful night, as Riend mingled in the heart of Wehnimer's Landing, a weak voice pierced the air, a cry for help. Desperate to find the source, Riend felt an unnatural chill settle over her as she realized the voice belonged not to a living being, but to a spirit. Before she could retreat, the entity, full of fear and desperation, surged into her, possessing her entirely. |
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The year that followed was a torment Riend could scarcely comprehend. As the spirit fought for control of her body, Riend’s health deteriorated. Her skin grew patchy, covered in boils, and her once-strong fortitude faded with every passing day. But what terrified her more than the failing health was the growing affection for Grishom Stone, the very man she knew to be behind her torment. |
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Stone, pretending to be a wealthy imperial with dreams of opening a bathhouse in the Landing, revealed little of his true nature to anyone, except for Riend. The more time she spent in his presence, the more she struggled to separate the emotions she felt for him from the manipulations of Madelyne's spirit. She couldn't possibly love this man, this monster, but the connection felt undeniable. |
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As Riend's mind spiraled, she believed her end was near. The spirit’s grip on her grew stronger, and with it, she feared she would lose herself entirely, just as Madelyne had before her. But the depths of her struggle would soon lead her to a shocking revelation. |
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Stone claimed to have found a way to rid Riend of Madelyne’s spirit, an elaborate ritual he promised would sever the bond. Desperate, Riend agreed, but the ritual was a twisted ruse. Instead of freeing her, it nearly ended her life, transferring Madelyne’s spirit into the urnon golem Stone had created. |
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It was years later after the golem was destroyed and Stone freed from the control of Althedeus that he was captured and a trial was planned. It was during his imprisonment that he and Riend reconnected. |
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Imprisoned and broken, Stone made an unexpected request: to see Riend, to ask her to craft him a pair of shoes, for he had none. When she arrived to deliver them, they shared an honest conversation, a rare moment of vulnerability between them. Riend tried to urge him toward a different path, away from vengeance, urging him to live a simpler life. Stone, however, refused. Yet, in a moment of stark honesty, he confessed something that surprised them both: he had grown to care for her. Riend, too, found herself torn, struggling with feelings she had once believed to be nothing more than the residue of Madelyne’s influence. |
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After his inevitable escape, Stone's presence in Riend's life remained. Letters began to arrive, posted from distant corners of Elanthia. Each one signed, “Yours, always, Grishom.” Despite the distance, the strange bond between them endured, though Riend’s heart remained uncertain, forever caught between the man who had nearly destroyed her and the feelings she couldn’t quite erase. |
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==Affiliations== |
==Affiliations== |
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Master of the Rogue Guild <br /> |
Master of the Rogue Guild <br /> |
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Master of Voln |
Master of Voln |
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Member of Rone Academy |
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Officer of the Landing Defense Irregulars |
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Member of Moonshine Manor |
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Member of Elanthian Elegance<br /> |
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Revision as of 11:34, 29 January 2025
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Riend Ar'Fiernel
Features
You see Riend Ar'Fiernel the Master Artisan.
She appears to be a Sylvankind.
She is tall in stature and has a lithesome, nimble build. She appears to be in the bloom of youth. She has expressive, chestnut-haloed malachite green eyes and gardenia white skin. She has fine, textured hellebore black hair cropped to fall in tousled, sheared layers reaching just below her ears. She has an oval face, a gently sloped nose and slender shoulders. Though her features are predominantly sylvan, subtleties in the shape of her face and the tilt of her eyes appear faintly erithian.
Origin
Riend’s home lies deep within the southeast forests of Elanthia, nestled between the site of the once-great sylvan stronghold of Nevishrim and the winding cliffs of Barrett’s Gorge. The settlement was first established in the year 1343, though some of the older families whisper of an even earlier encampment near Ne’Yuscarl Point, the truth of which depends on which founding family’s tale you hear.
It was the wise and honorable sylvan mage, Illiweth Siergeth, who united the sylvankind of all the D'ahranal following the closing of Yuriqen. Seeking refuge from the turmoil that followed, they first made their way to the fringes of the Southron Wastes, gathering sylvans who had fled after the battle with Myrdanian. From there, they retraced the ancient paths that had once guided their people to the Silver Veil.
The First Year
With so many in their caravan, it took nearly a decade to traverse the harsh, unyielding terrain to the dense, shadowed forests cradled at the base of the Dragonspine. Along the way, relentless conditions, constant peril, and the creeping shadow of sickness took their toll. What had once been a thriving caravan of tens of thousands dwindled to barely three thousand weary survivors.
In the early spring of 1343, the sylvans established the settlement of Llythwere—a fragile yet defiant symbol of their resilience. A people long bound to a nomadic existence finally began to root themselves, carving out a home amidst the towering, ancient trees. Plans were drawn for a modest but unmistakably sylvan haven high within the forest canopy, a tribute to their deep connection with nature. But before construction could begin, foraging patrols were dispatched to gather essential materials. None returned.
Fear seeped into the fledgling settlement like a slow poison. Whispers of abandoning Llythwere and seeking refuge in Ta’Illistim gained momentum, the prospect of enduring the elves’ overbearing presence deemed preferable to facing a mysterious and lethal unknown. The newly formed sylvan council convened, their deliberations fraught with desperation. After two tense weeks, they resolved to stay, choosing to confront the encroaching darkness rather than retreat.
But as the days stretched into weeks, an invisible menace began to plague the settlement. There was no sign of an enemy, no clues left behind—only the chilling fact that sylvans were disappearing. Men, women, and children vanished without warning, taken in the dead of night. Each morning brought fresh grief as families awoke to discover empty beds and loved ones gone. No one was safe. No one understood what hunted them.
It wasn’t until the fourth month that the truth was finally revealed: a ruthless band of rogue Faendryl had targeted Llythwere. Weak from their arduous journey, the sylvans were no match for the relentless raiders. Malnourished and poorly armed, they suffered devastating losses as the Faendryl struck again and again. By the end of the brutal assaults, fewer than five hundred sylvans remained.
The situation grew increasingly dire. The Ne’Yuscarl, their stalwart protectors, were nearly wiped out, and Illiweth Siergeth, their last great mage, was gravely ill. The once-powerful Nanrithowan wards that had shielded their people were now beyond their reach, their magic fading with no one left to sustain it. Armed with only a handful of weapons and dwindling resolve, the sylvans faced annihilation.
The raids persisted through the spring, and by midsummer, Llythwere was on the brink of collapse. Fewer than a hundred sylvans remained, their supplies nearly gone. They could not farm, dared not forage in the dangerous woods, and faced the looming specter of a deadly winter. Desperate, the council turned to the goddess Imaera, convening a nine-day and nine-night commune to plead for salvation.
On the final morning, Imaera appeared before them. Her presence was both ethereal and unnerving, her voice echoing with the weight of divine power. "Sacrifice that which you hold most dear," she intoned, "and your people will endure. Llythwere shall prosper for generations to come."
Her cryptic words left the council in turmoil. They debated endlessly, searching for the meaning of her riddle, but no consensus was reached. Their indecision proved costly. Three days after the commune ended, Illiweth Siergeth passed quietly in her sleep. As the last mage of Yuriqen, her death marked the end of their hope to wield ancient magic or fortify their defenses.
The sylvans mourned her passing with a solemn ceremony in the foothills of the Dragonspine. Her death was seen as a grim fulfillment of Imaera’s prophecy, a harbinger of the sacrifice she had foretold. The council urged the people to endure and to trust in the goddess’s promise of prosperity. But as the chill of winter crept into the forest and the cries of hungry children echoed through the settlement, doubt began to fester among the survivors.
The Long Winter
By the dawn of the new year, the sylvans were teetering on the brink of ruin. Their food stores had long since been depleted, forcing them to strip bark from the surrounding trees in a desperate attempt to stave off starvation. Sickness and injury swept through the settlement like an unrelenting tide, threatening to extinguish what little remained of their once-proud community.
The few surviving members of the Ne’Yuscarl patrolled the forests daily, hunting for anything that might sustain their people. During one such mission, Gearith Tilweth was caught in the grip of a fierce blizzard. Disoriented and weak with hunger, he lost his way in the endless expanse of snow-covered woods, the howling wind drowning his calls for help.
The storm raged on for days, and Gearith’s strength began to wane. Just as hope seemed to slip beyond his grasp, he stumbled into a small encampment hidden deep within the forest. There, a group of people unlike any he had ever encountered greeted him with wary kindness.
They were striking figures, their towering stature reminiscent of the giantkin Gearith had glimpsed once in Barrett’s Gorge. Both men and women were bald at the crowns of their heads, but long, pale hair flowed down their backs like silken cascades. Their eyes, however, were what truly set them apart—pale and slitted, gleaming with a predatory sharpness.
Too weak to feel fear, Gearith accepted their hospitality and collapsed by their fire, exhausted beyond resistance. He awoke briefly during the night, feverish and muttering incoherently about his people and their plight before succumbing once more to unconsciousness. When dawn broke, Gearith did not wake.
The strangers, who called themselves the "erithi," murmured a solemn prayer over his lifeless form. After a lengthy deliberation, they resolved to return his body to Llythwere, their curiosity piqued by the sylvans he had spoken of in his delirium.
When the erithi arrived at the settlement, the sylvans met them with suspicion and fear. Memories of the Faendryl raids were still raw, and the sight of outsiders—especially ones so otherworldly—stirred unease among the survivors. The discovery of Gearith’s lifeless body only deepened their mistrust.
Communication proved to be a daunting barrier. The erithi spoke in a lilting, lyrical language unfamiliar to the sylvans. While they seemed to understand fragments of the sylvan tongue, they responded primarily in elven—an ancient language that few sylvans still spoke, having distanced themselves from their elven kin over the centuries.
Through a halting blend of broken languages, gestures, and crude drawings, the two groups eventually found a fragile understanding. The erithi offered the sylvans something unimaginable: protection, supplies to last the winter, and aid in rebuilding their shattered homes. Though the offer seemed almost too generous, the sylvans had no choice. Survival outweighed suspicion, and they reluctantly accepted.
Within a week, more erithi arrived at Llythwere. They came bearing food, medicine, and sturdy materials for construction. Despite the lingering tension, a tentative bond began to form between the two peoples. The sylvans, long accustomed to isolation, found themselves reliant on the erithi’s aid, their once impenetrable walls of mistrust slowly beginning to crack.
Though the shadow of the sylvans' recent trials hung heavily over Llythwere, a faint glimmer of hope began to stir. For the first time in months, the sylvans dared to believe they might endure the winter—and perhaps even rebuild the life they had lost.
At Great Cost
By the time spring breathed new life into the forest, the sylvans had thrived. Their homes stretched high into the ancient trees, blending seamlessly with the verdant canopy. The once-fragile settlement had grown strong and self-sufficient, with abundant harvests lifting their spirits. The conditions of their bargain with the erithi, once a source of constant worry, had faded into the background, overshadowed by their newfound prosperity. The two races coexisted in a harmony that seemed, for a time, like a lasting peace.
Yet, as the seasons turned, an uneasy tension settled over Llythwere like a mist. As the anniversary of the erithi’s arrival approached, the sylvans found themselves wondering: Would their benefactors reveal the full extent of the bargain? And if so, what price would they demand for their aid?
When the erithi returned, they met with the sylvan council. A year of shared language lessons had bridged the gap between their two cultures, leaving little room for misunderstanding. The erithi revealed the true cost of their assistance: they sought to expand their dwindling population. Over centuries, their ability to produce healthy offspring had declined, threatening their survival. To preserve their lineage, they sought to mix the two races by requiring a sylvan be tithed every fifty years.
The revelation was met with shock and horror. The sylvans, who had come to view the erithi as benevolent allies, recoiled at this demand. It felt like a betrayal, a condition that defied the very principles of equality and respect. But honor-bound by their agreement and without any other options, the sylvans reluctantly accepted. The goodwill between the two races fractured under the weight of this grim bargain.
Tensions simmered as years passed. Despite the agreement, nearly a decade went by without any children being conceived. The erithi grew frustrated, accusing the sylvans of sabotage, while the sylvans insisted they were honoring the bargain. Desperate for answers, the sylvan council sought advice from their herbalists. One elder recalled a failed attempt to cross-pollinate silver veil trees with local species; the genetic differences were too great to produce viable seeds.
The sylvans brought their findings to the erithi, who listened with quiet intensity. After a cryptic acknowledgment, the erithi announced they would return with a solution. Without another word, they departed, leaving the sylvans to wonder about the future of their fragile alliance.
A Less than Welcome Return
It took nearly a year for the erithi to return to the sylvan settlement with an answer to their problem. To the dismay and general horror of the people, they were informed that a ritual spell would be performed between the pledged male and female. Their blood would be combined within the arcane circle, and through the spell’s completion, their essences would intertwine, ensuring conception. The bond formed during the ritual would remain until the child’s birth, at which point it would be severed, and the two participants would be allowed to part.
At the time, very little was understood of blood magic, but it has since been revealed as the foundation of the tithe ritual practiced in the tithing. Due to a deep mistrust of magic beyond the most common spheres, such as elemental or healing magic, anything more arcane—particularly blood magic—is viewed with suspicion among the sylvans of Llythwere. This distrust stems from the very origins of the tithing accord.
After a period of preparation, the ritual was conducted under the light of the second full moon of the year. Only the elders were permitted to witness the event, leaving much of its exact nature shrouded in mystery. What is known, however, is that the couple’s blood was symbolically combined in an intricate spell, forging a magical connection between them. Over the following days, the spell completed its purpose, and a child was conceived. As promised, once the child was born, the bond was dissolved. The erithi took the child to raise, and the sylvan mother was granted freedom to choose her own path, unbound by the rules of the tithing.
For over thirty-seven hundred years, the tithing ritual has been upheld by the sylvans without fail. In that time, they have flourished, building a true home for themselves. While they may never reclaim the golden age nurtured in Yuriqen, they have forged a society rooted in the traditions of their people.
The Almost Uprising
Riend’s mother, Saoirce Ar’Fiernel, was a celebrated mage of Llythwere and one of the last pupils of the revered Illiweth Siergeth. With the sylvans thriving under her guidance and their numbers steadily increasing, Saoirce sought to enhance the Nanrithowan, the protective wards that shielded their settlement. Her innovations even allowed the erithi to pass through the wards unscathed, a privilege she alone had the power to revoke. When her time for tithing arrived, she considered doing just that, using her magic to sever the bond and banish the erithi from their lands.
Saoirce viewed the practice of tithing as barbaric and began to rally others who shared her unease. Her resolve sparked unrest within the community, and what began as quiet dissent grew into organized opposition. Many feared her rebellion would bring an end to the tithing and, with it, the prosperity the sylvans had gained through their alliance with the erithi. Without the support of their benefactors, some believed the sylvans would fall back into hardship.
As Saoirce’s conviction deepened, it was her grandmother who stepped forward to intervene. The elder spoke to her with measured wisdom. “The tithe is not a punishment,” she said. “It is a burden we bear with pride, for in fulfilling it, we honor our people, our ancestors, and the covenant that safeguards our future. There is no greater honor than placing the needs of others above your own.”
Her grandmother’s words struck a chord, planting a seed of doubt in Saoirce’s heart. That doubt slowly grew, tempering her defiance and rekindling a sense of duty. In time, she abandoned her rebellion, dedicating herself instead to instilling that same sense of purpose in her daughter.
Present Day Llythwere
When Riend was born, her mother’s heart swelled with both joy and sorrow. As the first female born in her line in three generations, Saoirce was granted the rare privilege of keeping and raising her daughter. Yet, with this gift came an inescapable truth: Riend would be bound to the same fate Saoirce had endured—the tithe. With a heavy heart, Saoirce resigned herself to the inevitable path her daughter would follow, but vowed to give her a life of freedom she herself had never known.
Riend was raised as any sylvan child would be—taught to hunt with a bow, to hide among the trees, and to live in harmony with the forest. As she grew, her mother gave her a task: to journey westward, carrying knowledge to their people. It was both a gift and a burden. A chance to explore the world beyond the borders of Lythwere, to experience lands and cultures her people had never known. Riend embraced this rare opportunity, unaware that her travels would lead her into the very chains she sought to escape.
Her journey took her across Elanitha, eventually leading her to the rugged town of Wehnimer’s Landing. There, surrounded by untamed wilderness, she fell in love with the land’s raw beauty and rustic charm.
Possession
During the early years of the 5110s, Riend found herself caught in the midst of a plot so vile it threatened to unravel the world she had come to love. Grishom Stone, a rogue blood mage consumed by vengeance, sought to create an urnon golem that would allow the demon Althedeus to rise again and wreak havoc across the lands. To power the ritual, Stone needed 100 souls, and in a twisted act of retribution for the betrayal of his lover, Madelyne, he hunted down women who shared her features.
One fateful night, as Riend mingled in the heart of Wehnimer's Landing, a weak voice pierced the air, a cry for help. Desperate to find the source, Riend felt an unnatural chill settle over her as she realized the voice belonged not to a living being, but to a spirit. Before she could retreat, the entity, full of fear and desperation, surged into her, possessing her entirely.
The year that followed was a torment Riend could scarcely comprehend. As the spirit fought for control of her body, Riend’s health deteriorated. Her skin grew patchy, covered in boils, and her once-strong fortitude faded with every passing day. But what terrified her more than the failing health was the growing affection for Grishom Stone, the very man she knew to be behind her torment.
Stone, pretending to be a wealthy imperial with dreams of opening a bathhouse in the Landing, revealed little of his true nature to anyone, except for Riend. The more time she spent in his presence, the more she struggled to separate the emotions she felt for him from the manipulations of Madelyne's spirit. She couldn't possibly love this man, this monster, but the connection felt undeniable.
As Riend's mind spiraled, she believed her end was near. The spirit’s grip on her grew stronger, and with it, she feared she would lose herself entirely, just as Madelyne had before her. But the depths of her struggle would soon lead her to a shocking revelation.
Stone claimed to have found a way to rid Riend of Madelyne’s spirit, an elaborate ritual he promised would sever the bond. Desperate, Riend agreed, but the ritual was a twisted ruse. Instead of freeing her, it nearly ended her life, transferring Madelyne’s spirit into the urnon golem Stone had created.
It was years later after the golem was destroyed and Stone freed from the control of Althedeus that he was captured and a trial was planned. It was during his imprisonment that he and Riend reconnected.
Imprisoned and broken, Stone made an unexpected request: to see Riend, to ask her to craft him a pair of shoes, for he had none. When she arrived to deliver them, they shared an honest conversation, a rare moment of vulnerability between them. Riend tried to urge him toward a different path, away from vengeance, urging him to live a simpler life. Stone, however, refused. Yet, in a moment of stark honesty, he confessed something that surprised them both: he had grown to care for her. Riend, too, found herself torn, struggling with feelings she had once believed to be nothing more than the residue of Madelyne’s influence.
After his inevitable escape, Stone's presence in Riend's life remained. Letters began to arrive, posted from distant corners of Elanthia. Each one signed, “Yours, always, Grishom.” Despite the distance, the strange bond between them endured, though Riend’s heart remained uncertain, forever caught between the man who had nearly destroyed her and the feelings she couldn’t quite erase.
Affiliations
Master of the Rogue Guild
Master of Voln
Member of Rone Academy
Officer of the Landing Defense Irregulars
Member of Moonshine Manor
Member of Elanthian Elegance
Artisan Skills
Master Cobbler
Master Fletcher
Master Painter