Eladarmi (prime): Difference between revisions
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Hunting Grounds: [[Settlement of Reim]], Old Ta'Faendryl, Moonsedge |
Hunting Grounds: [[Settlement of Reim]], Old Ta'Faendryl, Moonsedge |
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Experience: 11, |
Experience: 11,750,000 |
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[[File:Ballista.jpg|thumb|900px|'''"Prelude to the Wyrm's Descent"'''The party stands tense around a weathered ballista atop a cliff, eyes skyward as a massive wyrm circles high above, wings casting long shadows in the dying light. ''(Generated by Eladarmi's player using Openart.ai)'']] |
[[File:Ballista.jpg|thumb|900px|'''"Prelude to the Wyrm's Descent"'''The party stands tense around a weathered ballista atop a cliff, eyes skyward as a massive wyrm circles high above, wings casting long shadows in the dying light. ''(Generated by Eladarmi's player using Openart.ai)'']] |
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Skill Name | Current Current |
Skill Name | Current Current |
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| Bonus Ranks |
| Bonus Ranks |
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Armor Use..........................| |
Armor Use..........................| 283 183 |
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Shield Use.........................| 425 325 |
Shield Use.........................| 425 325 |
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Combat Maneuvers...................| 302 202 |
Combat Maneuvers...................| 302 202 |
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Spell Ranks: |
Spell Ranks: |
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Minor Spiritual :20 |
Minor Spiritual :20 |
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Paladin Base : |
Paladin Base :100 |
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You also know the spells: 1109 |
You also know the spells: 1109 |
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Armor Blessing blessing 5/5 Buff |
Armor Blessing blessing 5/5 Buff |
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Armor Spike Mastery spikemastery 2/2 Passive |
Armor Spike Mastery spikemastery 2/2 Passive |
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Armor Support support |
Armor Support support 3/5 Buff |
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Ascension Skills |
Ascension Skills |
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Revision as of 21:12, 13 August 2025
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Eladarmi Storvald
★- "Fear not the darkness; it is but the canvas on which I paint my destiny."."'
- You see Eladarmi Storvald the Eclipsed Crusader.
- He appears to be a Giantman of the Grot'karesh Clan.
- He is very tall. He appears to be full grown. He has silver-flecked crystal blue eyes and sun-bronzed, coppery skin. He has shoulder length, cascading bronze hair styled in face-framing, feathery layers. He has a perfectly symmetrical, delicately featured face, a prominent nose and well-muscled shoulders and arms.
- He has an onyx-shaded crimson flame tattoo on his finger, and a rune-etched sapphire ring in the upper ridge of his left ear.
- He has well-muscled shoulders and arms.
- He is in good shape and wearing:
- -a Hematite-Feathered Helm shaped into the form of a Screeching Storm Griffin
- - a sacrosanct bright white Battle Standard with a rippling muted black sheen (Rank 6)
- -a Braided Mithglin Necklace suspending an oval of black Lightning Opal
- -a Frost-Marred Rusylka Cloak with storm agate accents
- -a Black Pearl-inlaid Driftwood Mandolin fitted with scrimshaw tuning pegs
- (Black pearl inlay descends from the neck of the mandolin, leave the headstock that is decorated with mother-of-pearl designs upon dark wood. Scrimshaw tuning pegs resembling tridents bind the thin copper strings, while anchoring tailpiece is fashioned of pewter. The smooth soundboard is made from an ash white piece of driftwood that bears signs of being struck by lightning)
- -a Winged Rusalkoren Greatshield emblazoned with a Soaring Griffin
- (An elaborately emblazoned crest comprises most of the greatshield's front, depicting a magnificent griffin soaring across a blackened, star-strewn sky. Encircling the crest, storm agates have been cut into stylized Saramar runes and are interspersed between an etched pattern of whorls and jagged bolts. You also notice a small enchanter's glyph. A strange necrotic haze radiates from the greatshield. A strong aura of holy light radiates from the greatshield.)
- -a Frost-Marred black suede Backpack clasped with an Ensigiled White Shield
- -a Frost-Marred Insulated Baldric with carved Saramar runes
- -a suit of Glacial Blue Ghezyte Full Plate emblazoned with Crossed Lightning Bolts on the chest
- -a Burnished Armlet
- (inscribed with a greatshield crest upon one side; upon the shield is starveil to create a background of a starry sky; while silver metal has been wrought to depict a storm griffin in flight across it. Framing the crest are a series of Saramar runes that wrap around the band of the armlet)
- -an imflass Vambrace with Storm Agate-tipped laces
- -a sculpted leather vambrace with metal-tipped laces,
- -a dark cordovan case whipstitched with rawhide laces,
- -a Saramar-enruned Ghezyte Band etched with Tidal Waves
- -a Segmented Urglaes Thumb-Ring
- -a Glowing Badelaire set with a Wing-Shaped Crossguard
- (Expertly forged from vethinye, the storm blue hue glows in a manner reminiscent of a stormy night sky. Etched into the curved blade are silvery Saramar runes that stand in sharp contrast to metal. The crossguard sweeps outward from base of the blade, the pale metal worked into the shape of outstretched wings. Glacial blue leather is wrapped around the hilt, providing a secure grip despite the weathered and worn nature of the material. You notice a small enchanter's glyph and Quando's crafting mark. Heatless violet flames burn across the badelaire. A strange necrotic haze radiates from the badelaire. A strong aura of holy light radiates from the badelaire.)
- -a Sleek Silver-toned Scabbard
- (Inspired by the electrifying energy and ethereal beauty of a raging storm, the scabbard metal features intricate etchings of cloud sprite silhouettes dancing between bolts of lightning. Lightning bolt fasteners and a coiling belt loop are traced in smoky glass, the surface glinting in the ambient light. The lining is embroidered with cloud sprites surrounded by droplets of blue-stitched water. The form of a paladin stands between them, his weapon drawn as jagged strikes of lightning encircle him)
- -a Trio of wide Starveil Chain Belts with a jet-inlaid blue imflass flask hanging from a small pouch on the side
- -an Azure Rusylka Kilt cinched by a Thunderhead-Shaped storm agate Sporran
- -a small brass cog suspended from a thin silver chain (Bardic Luck Rank 6)
- -and a pair of glacial blue Frost-Burned Leather Boots buckled with Balenite. (made by the wonderful Laelithonel)
★-Family Crest
A Greatshield Crest crafted of starveil and depicting a background of glacial mountains standing majestically in starry sky. Wrought silver metal depicts a powerful storm griffin in flight across the northern night sky. Framing the crest are a series of Saramar runes that translate to "Storvald of Sardin".
★-Armament
- 10x Tier 3 Ghezyte Animalistic Spirit Plate Armor (Full Unlock), S6, T5, +30 TD, Spiked, CER10/CEP5, 40% Impact Resistance, 40% Crush Resistance, 20% Frigid Resistance, +10 Warding Flourish (10 sec), +3 Stamina/Health Recovery - 12x Tier 3 Rusalkoren Energy Greatshield (Full Unlock) , S6, T5, Spiked, 5x Dispel Flares, Undead Bane +30, 40% Slash Resistance, 30% Puncture Resistance, Flare Affinity, +7 Spiritual Lore - Blessings Bonus, +3 Spiritual Lore - Summoning Bonus - 15x Tier 3 Perfect Vethinye Sprite Badelaire, S6, T5, CER12/DMG4, Undead Bane +30, Lesser Moods, Fancy Stance, Edged Weapons Bonus +5, Stamina Recovery +5
★-Market Stall A Leather-Canopied Blonde Oak Stall Surrounded by a Haze of Tobacco Smoke
Tobacconist: The sturdy oak-framed stall has been draped in a soft, sun-bleached canopy of worn leather, the blackish brown hide shading several plush cushions set behind the countertop. Tendrils of tobacco smoke spill forth from curved glass dishes set along the front of the stall, filling the area with the rich scent of cured leaf, the haze of greyish air wafting across several faceted crystals hanging high above. A kind, smoke-shrouded spirit shaman is ready to guide you on your tobacco experience.
★-About Eladarmi:
The gods made the earth for all men 't share. Only when the kings come with their crowns and steel swords, they claimed it was all theirs... You call us thieves, but at least a thief has t' be brave and cleaver and quick" - Game of Thrones
In the mystical realm of Elanith, where ancient stories intertwine with the echoes of lost civilizations, a figure of both virtue and complexity emerges - Eladarmi Storvald. Born amidst the turbulent times on the now-vanished island of Sardin, Eladarmi's journey led him to the frontier settlement of Icemule Trace, nestled in the northeastern region of western Elanith, under the shadow of the Dragonspine Mountains.
As a devout paladin, Eladarmi's heart beats with a fierce sense of duty to seek redemption for his fallen people, whose homeland was claimed by devastation. Guided by his unwavering faith, he found solace in playing and singing the mandolin, a skill he honed during his solitude, filling the air with haunting melodies that weave tales of sorrow, hope, and courage. The paladin believes that Charl, despite the destruction he caused, offers a path to redemption and renewal. He sees his devotion as a way to help rebuild and restore the honor of his late homeland, guided by Charl's principles.
In the warmth of Icemule Trace, Eladarmi indulges in his love for fine tobacco, savoring the rich aroma that lingers as he ponders the complexities of his destiny. When the moon rises, he raises a glass o' whiskey, mead, or other fine liquors, toasting to memories both cherished and lost.
Eladarmi's alignment flirts between the realms of chaotic neutral and neutral good, a reflection of the conflicting emotions that stir within him. He loathes the corruption of power, disdainful of the twisted web of politics that can tarnish even the noblest of intentions. Standing firm for what is right, he does so in his unique way, guided by his own moral compass.
Venturing into the unknown lands of Elanith, Eladarmi embraces every experience with the eyes of a wanderer, intrigued and humbled by the strange beauty that surrounds him. As he seeks to right the wrongs of the past and bring light to the shadows, he grapples with the enigmatic dance between darkness and redemption.
Eladarmi Storvald's presence in Icemule Trace, like the stars above the Dragonspine Mountains, brings a unique blend of strength and vulnerability to the frontier settlement. As he carves his path through uncharted territories, his melody of hope resonates through the hearts of those who cross his journey, leaving a legacy that intertwines with the ever-changing tapestry of Elanith's stories.
★-Associates
Brother's and Sister's in-arms in no particular order'
- Lilanna, Laelithonel, Leafiara, Grutak, Helnora, Nalver, Svardin, Rinalt, Severine, Dreaven, Shartoose, Pyrodon, Loralaii, Delyorik Satrn, Eac, Seesall, Canaanlunar
- Jehance, Woulfgar, Ouidanna, Xess, Toxyrox, Earthshaker, Roelaren, Saphira, Vahti, Lithyia, Brokkrsten, Pavender, Balantine, Fahlo, Devoryah, Ibar
- Rysul, Navler, Gone, Pukk, Kryalina, Wixterwin, Aerocus, Saraphenia, Holanna, Jastalyn, Lahanna, Cylnthia, Fyg, Aliashyrah, Aerocus, Behavin, Monza, Evii
- Eaglebeard, Femereff, Soliere, Ouendi, Chamorr, Dendum, Aetheyn, Sapphira, Sraven, Peatwyn, Parwyn, Qistra, Myharl
The Last of the Sardin
 "King Jvartor "Stormthunder" & The Fall of Sardin: A colossal, mythic storm consumes an island. In the foreground, a towering Storm Giant King in dark steel armor with a billowing blue cloak — King Jvartor "Stormthunder" — stands defiantly on a rocky cliff, arms raised in prayer toward the sky. Black storm clouds churn above, struck with violent blue lightning. In the background, massive tidal waves crash onto a shattered island, geysers of water swallowing forests and stone towers. A war-acquisitioned schooner sails into chaos, its sails torn, its hull battered. Ghostly outlines of giantkin warriors and smallfolk invaders are locked in battle on flooded beaches. The Arkati Charl, a swirling humanoid figure of storm and chaos, looms faintly in the clouds, his expression unreadable." (Generated by Eladarmi's player using openart.ai |
 "The Shore of Destiny: A peaceful, ethereal shoreline under soft moonlight. The storm has passed. The body of a young, blonde haired Storm Giantkin child lies on the wet sand, barely conscious. Nearby, a silver-armored human paladin of Voln kneels beside him, gently pouring healing from a flask. The child, Eladarmi, gazes upward with wonder, reaching a hand toward a vision only he sees: a translucent pale girl with glowing blue eyes and a flowing blue-green gown riding a pair of playful dolphins in the cresting waves. She is smiling sadly at him, a guardian spirit or omen." (Generated by Eladarmi's player using openart.ai) |
 "The Sanctuary of Light: Inside a Temple of Voln, a massive hall of polished stone, glowing braziers, and stained glass windows depicting acts of heroism. At center stage, a much larger teenage Eladarmi trains with a silver longsword, his form precise and noble. He wears a mix of paladin robes and scale armor, emblazoned with Voln’s sigil. Around him are human-sized paladins, watching in admiration. At the far end, a wise old paladin, Sir Thalador, observes with pride, arms crossed." (Generated by Eladarmi's player using openart.ai) |
 "The Tide Pool of Visions: A vast glacial expanse beneath a pale green aurora. Nestled into a crystalline cave near the snow-dusted foothills is a sacred aquamarine tide pool, glowing faintly in the night. Eladarmi, now a fully grown Storm Giantkin paladin, kneels beside it in solemn prayer. A lively campfire flickers behind him. The spirit of Khaarne, a translucent, proud Storm Giant ghost with glowing white eyes, stands tall beside the pool, one hand extended as if offering guidance. Within the glowing water, two visions are visible: on one side, a dark, volcanic future with Eladarmi wreathed in red lightning, on the other, a shining glacial city under blue skies, giantkin and smallfolk walking in peace." (Generated by Eladarmi's player using openart.ai) |
In the ancient realm of Sardin, a land graced by the presence of Storm Giants, a tumultuous era began with the birth of Eladamri Storvald on the 11th day of Fashanos, 4110. As the son of the mighty Storm Giantkin Jvartor, King of Sardin, and the late Krirym Storvald, Eladamri's arrival was marked by both hope and tragedy. Krirym passed away during childbirth, leaving the young giantkin under the care of Otelik Stormwrack, the trusted hand of the king. In the following years, the tranquility of Sardin was shattered as smallfolk from the South sailed to the island, seeking to claim its rich Ghezyte veins running through the isle. The Sardin Giantkin valiantly fought back, wielding steel and thunder against the invaders. But with each passing season, the conflict escalated, and more enemy vessels arrived, threatening the very existence of the Giantkin of Storms. In a desperate bid to save his son and a few loyal companions, King Jvartor, known as "Stormthunder," ordered Otelik to set sail far away from Sardin; towards the West with a war-acquisitioned Schooner; the vessel likely to go unnoticed by the smallfolk.
Charl, the mighty deity of storms and chaos, was often revered and feared by the Giantkin of Sardin. Known as "The Unyielding Tempest," to the Sardins, Charl was a being of immense power, capable of unleashing devastating storms and wreaking havoc upon the world. The Sardins respected Charl's domain and sought to appease the deity, offering prayers and sacrifices to avoid his wrath.
However, as time passed and the conflict with the smallfolk from the South escalated, the Giantkin faced an unprecedented challenge. The invaders' numbers grew, and their thirst for the island's resources intensified. The giants fought valiantly, but they found themselves struggling to protect their homeland against the relentless onslaught.
In a desperate bid to save his people, King Jvartor sought the mercy of Charl. He called upon the deity, performing ancient rites and invoking the sacred prayers of their ancestors. He pleaded for Charl to spare his homeland and his people, to grant them strength and protection against the invaders.
But Charl, with his chaotic and unpredictable nature, remained unyielding. Instead of heeding the king's pleas, the deity unleashed a colossal storm of unparalleled ferocity to punish the Sardins for the reckless damage caused by the skirmishes to the island and surrounding marine life. The skies darkened, thunder rolled like the roar of a thousand dragons, and lightning lashed out like the fiery spears of the gods.
The storm's fury was relentless, swallowing the Isle of Sardin in a maelstrom of wind and water. Tidal waves, as tall as mountains, crashed upon the Ghezyte rich rocky shores, and the once-mighty island quaked and groaned under the weight of Charl's wrath. Buildings crumbled, forests were uprooted, and the seas devoured the land.
King Jvartor's war-acquisitioned Schooner, carrying Eladarmi and a few loyal companions, was no match for the might of Charl's storm. The vessel was tossed and turned, its hull battered, and its sails torn asunder. Despite the brave efforts of the crew, they were powerless before the deity's fury.
The mighty Stormthunder, Jvartor, and all the inhabitants of Sardin, both giant and smallfolk, were lost to the merciless tempest. The Isle of Sardin, once a land graced by the presence of Storm Giants, was swallowed by the sea, leaving only destruction and sorrow in its wake.
Miraculously, Eladarmi survived the shipwreck, washed ashore far from his homeland on the distant shores West of Pinefar Trading Post. A Paladin of the Order of Voln traveling on a spiritual journey, discovered the battered and dehydrated giantkin child. Tending to the child's wounds, he could hear Eladamri's babbling a tale of a pale young girl with blue eyes, a flowing blue-green gown, and about the dolphins she rode upon. Intrigued by the tale, the paladin believed that Eladarmi was chosen to be spared by the divine forces themselves; taking him under the care of the Temple of Voln. The Paladins tended to his wounds and nurtured him back to health with compassion and care. Recognizing that Eladamri's survival was no ordinary occurrence, the High Paladin, known as Sir Thalador, believed that the deities themselves had a hand in sparing the young giantkin. He saw potential in the boy and felt a calling to train him in the ways of the Paladin, believing that Eladarmi had a significant role to play in the grand tapestry of fate.
As the days turned into weeks and the months into years, Eladarmi resided within the Temple of Voln. The temple was a place of solace and spiritual guidance, nestled amidst serene landscapes and dedicated to the pursuit of righteousness and justice. The paladins practiced rigorous training and devoted themselves to the service of their divine patron, the god of valor, Voln. Under the guidance of Sir Thalador and other experienced Paladins, Eladarmi began his training. At first, he struggled to adjust to the ways of the smaller folk, as the temple was predominantly inhabited by humans and other humanoid races. Yet, the Paladins embraced him, treating him as one of their own, and soon, he began to feel a sense of belonging.
Eladamri's giantkin strength and resilience were honed through intense physical training. He learned to wield weapons skillfully, whether it was a sword, a mace, or a shield. His size gave him a natural advantage, but he also learned to use it judiciously, without resorting to brute force unless necessary. But the training at the Temple of Voln wasn't just about physical prowess. Eladarmi was taught the principles of honor, compassion, and justice that defined the path of a paladin. He learned the importance of protecting the weak and standing up against injustice, not through blind fury but with a sense of purpose and restraint.
In addition to combat skills, Eladarmi also studied the sacred scriptures of Voln. He learned about the Arkati's teachings, the stories of legendary paladins who had come before him, and the virtues that guided their actions. These teachings instilled a sense of humility and devotion in him, shaping his character and making him more than just a formidable warrior.
As the years passed, Eladarmi proved himself to be a dedicated and disciplined student. He became an exemplary example of a paladin-in-training, admired by his peers for his strength of character and his steadfast commitment to justice. The temple became his home, and the Paladins, his second family. Throughout his time at the Temple of Voln, Eladamri's grief for his lost homeland and longing for his lost brethren never waned. But the teachings of Voln helped him find solace and purpose in his quest for a new destiny. His journey as a paladin of Voln had only just begun, and he knew that the path ahead would be filled with challenges and trials. Yet, armed with the principles of honor and justice, Eladarmi was ready to face whatever lay ahead in his pursuit of happiness, redemption, and a place to call home.
For the next decade, he roamed the harsh lands North of Aenatumgana Mountain, seeking clues about his past and searching for his lost brethren. The Windrunner, Jaston, took pity on Eladarmi, guiding him without his knowledge using the four winds to the sacred resting place of the Matriarch Meyno, an small ghezyte cave nestled amidst the frigid expanse of ice and snow. The Paladin lit a lively fire in the sheltered and prayed to for his ancestors'; and in doing so; encountered the Spirit of Khaarne, Meyno's eldest son. The great spirit presented him two visions - a pair of paths. One of revenge, misery, and solitude, akin to that of his brother Illoke, and another filled with happiness, merriment, and adventure. The decision lay with Eladarmi.
Days and nights passed as Eladarmi pondered his choices. On the sixth night, he made his decision, choosing the path of Khaarne. As he spoke the words, the ground trembled, and an aquamarine tide pool emerged. Within its depths, he saw visions of his parents' loving gaze and the beauty of his lost homeland, Sardin. Yet, grief overwhelmed him as he witnessed the island's destruction.
However, the tide pool's images then shifted to a new and vibrant skyline, promising a glacial paradise South of Mt. Aenatumgana, near Pinefar. A place where giantkin and smallfolk lived together in harmony, under sparkling skies. A sense of warmth and hope filled Eladamri's heart, sparking a newfound determination to make this place his new home.
With the resolve to embrace this new destiny, Eladarmi declared, "A new home," as he embarked on a journey to find the glacial paradise depicted in the tide pool. Thus, the tale of Eladarmi Storvald, the Storm Giantkin, continued, filled with adventure, redemption, and the quest for a place where he could finally find peace and purpose.
Current Build - Level 100
Hunting Grounds: Settlement of Reim, Old Ta'Faendryl, Moonsedge
Experience: 11,750,000
Skill Name | Current Current
| Bonus Ranks
Armor Use..........................| 283 183
Shield Use.........................| 425 325
Combat Maneuvers...................| 302 202
Edged Weapons......................| 327 227
Multi Opponent Combat..............| 201 101
Physical Fitness...................| 302 222
Dodging............................| 201 101
Harness Power......................| 201 101
Spirit Mana Control................| 105 25
Spiritual Lore - Blessings.........| 157 57
Spiritual Lore - Religion..........| 105 25
Spiritual Lore - Summoning.........| 90 20
Survival...........................| 150 50
Perception.........................| 201 101
Climbing...........................| 150 50
Swimming...........................| 150 50
First Aid..........................| 150 50
Trading............................| 0 0
Spell Ranks: Minor Spiritual :20 Paladin Base :100 You also know the spells: 1109 Stats: Normal (Bonus) ... Enhanced (Bonus) Strength (STR): 100 (40) ... 112 (46) Constitution (CON): 100 (35) ... 112 (41) Dexterity (DEX): 100 (20) ... 105 (22) Agility (AGL): 100 (20) ... 106 (23) Discipline (DIS): 90 (20) ... 95 (22) Aura (AUR): 100 (20) ... 100 (20) Logic (LOG): 84 (12) ... 99 (19) Intuition (INT): 69 (9) ... 69 (9) Wisdom (WIS): 100 (25) ... 100 (25) Influence (INF): 75 (17) ... 75 (17)
Encumbrance:
Skills
--------------------------------------------------- Combat Focus focus 5/5 Passive Combat Movement cmovement 5/5 Passive Combat Toughness toughness 1/3 Passive Cunning Defense cdefense 5/5 Passive Disarm Weapon disarm 5/5 Setup Side by Side sidebyside 4/5 Passive Spike Focus spikefocus 2/2 Passive Stance Perfection stance 2/2 Passive Sunder Shield sunder 1/5 Setup Tainted Bond tainted 1/1 Passive Weapon Special wspec 5/5 Passive --------------------------------------------------- Block Specialization blockspec 3/3 Passive Block the Elements blockelements 2/3 Passive Prop Up prop 3/3 Passive Protective Wall pwall 2/2 Passive Phalanx phalanx 5/5 Passive Shield Bash bash 3/5 Setup Shield Forward forward 3/3 Passive Shield Spike Mastery spikemastery 2/2 Passive Shield Strike Master strikemastery 1/1 Passive Shield Strike strike 5/5 Attack Spell Block spellblock 1/1 Passive Tower Shield Focus tfocus 5/5 Passive --------------------------------------------------- Armor Blessing blessing 5/5 Buff Armor Spike Mastery spikemastery 2/2 Passive Armor Support support 3/5 Buff
Ascension Skills
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Edged Weapons edgedweapons 5/50 Passive Common Skill
Strength strength 1/50 Passive Common Stat
Feats
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Covert Art: Sidestep sidestep 2/5 Buff
Resistances
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Nature 25% Frost 25% Steam 10%
Fire 25% Lightning 25% Impact 40%
Crush 40% Slashing 40% Puncture 30%
Vacuum 0% Unbalance 0% Plasma 0%
Grapple 0% Disruption 0% Disintegrate 0%
GEMs
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Slot #1: Unlocked Property: Journey's Beginning Mnemonic: journeybegin Rarity: Common Description: Your passive mana, stamina, and health regeneration are all increased by 5%.
Slot #2 Locked Slot #3 Locked Slot #4 Locked Slot #5 Locked
Inactive Gems: - Gemstone 2: an unfinished bronze jewel (lesser binding) * The Hive: Arrhythmic Gait * Consummate Professional (Rank 1 of 5)
-Storvald's Adventures
-Sprite of the Frozen Tide: Asrai's Tale
In his relentless search for his long-lost homeland and a place to call his own, Eladarmi Storvald ventured far north of Mount Aenatumgana, crossing frozen wastelands and enduring treacherous storms. It was in these desolate lands that fate led him to a glacial alcove, where an extraordinary discovery awaited him.
The glacial alcove seemed like an untouched sanctuary, isolated from the harshness of the frozen wilderness. As Eladamri cautiously stepped closer, his keen eyes caught a glimmer of something within the ice—a magnificent blade unlike any he had seen before. The blade is long feather-shaped featuring Saramar enruned vethinye and masterfully crafted. As he approached, it spoke to him in whispers, guiding him towards it.
As he reached for the blade, a sudden rush of magical energy surged through him. It was as if the blade recognized him, as if it had been waiting for him all along. The vethinye blade was not just a mere weapon; it possessed a living soul—a trapped sprite named Asrai.
Asrai was a sprite with a tale as old as time itself. Long ago, she had been captured and imprisoned within the blade by malevolent forces, cursed to remain bound to it for eternity. Her essence was trapped, and she yearned for freedom and companionship beyond her metallic prison.
Eladarmi sensed Asrai's longing and loneliness, and his compassionate heart stirred with empathy. He vowed to help her find a way to break the curse that bound her. With each passing day, as Eladarmi carried the blade with him on his travels, he could feel a faint connection growing between him and the sprite within.
The enruned blade not only became a formidable weapon in Eladamri's hands but also an invaluable companion. As they journeyed together, the whispers of the blade grew stronger, guiding him towards Icemule Trace's Ice Gardens—a place of enchantment and wonder, where sprites were said to dwell in harmony.
Upon arriving at the Ice Gardens, Eladarmi discovered a massive hallowed tree at its heart; long since dead, but the hollowed-out interior is filled with a magical life of its own. Moisture seeping through the cracks and branches has formed a fairyland of icicles that reflect every color of the rainbow, and a colony of glittering snow sprites has taken up residence among the lacy icework, their gossamer wings shimmering as they dance among the lattices of ice and the hanging branches that drape the entrance. This ancient tree seemed to pulse with magical energy, and he could sense the presence of the sprites within. As he approached with the blade, dozens of sprites flittered and danced around him, drawn by the blade's aura.
Eladamri's heart swelled with awe and hope as the sprites came together, their magic intertwining with the enruned blade. The magical energies surged and intertwined, and suddenly, Asrai's ethereal form emerged from the blade, free from her prison at last.
The sprites celebrated Asrai's newfound freedom, their joyful energy filling the air like a shimmering symphony. Asrai thanked Eladarmi, tears of joy sparkling in her eyes. She explained that although she was forever bound to the blade, she was no longer imprisoned within it. Now, she could flitter alongside him, aiding and guiding him on his adventures.
From that moment on, Asrai became Eladamri's steadfast companion and loyal friend. Her sprite magic infused the blade, making it more than just a weapon—it became a symbol of their bond and a source of guidance and strength in their journeys together.
As they traveled through treacherous lands and faced formidable foes, Eladarmi and Asrai forged an unbreakable connection. The giantkin warrior found solace in the company of the sprite, and Asrai, in turn, found purpose and friendship in her newfound freedom.
Together, they faced the trials that lay ahead, united by their shared destiny and the magical blade that brought them together. The tale of Eladarmi Storvald and his sprite companion Asrai became a legend, whispered among the winds, inspiring hope and courage in the hearts of all who heard it.
 "Wanderer of the Wastes": Eladarmi trudges across the frozen wastelands north of Mount Aenatumgana, cloaked in heavy furs and leaning into a brutal storm. Towering mountains loom in the distance, and his breath fogs in the frigid air. The landscape is desolate—ice cliffs, blowing snow, and pale twilight. Despite the harshness, his eyes are focused, resolute. (Generated by Eladarmi's player using openart.ai) |
 "The Glacial Blade": Inside the glacial alcove, shimmering ice forms a cathedral-like cavern. At its heart, encased in crystal-clear ice, glows the a vethinye blade, runes softly pulsing. Eladarmi stands wide-eyed before it, light from the blade casting a halo around him. A ghostly wisp of Asrai’s spirit swirls just behind the ice. (Generated by Eladarmi's player using Openart.ai) |
 "Whispers and Warmth": A quiet moment by a campfire under a starlit sky. The vethinye blade rests near Eladarmi, its runes glowing faintly. Asrai, translucent and small, sits cross-legged in midair above the fire, glowing softly with longing in her eyes. Eladarmi watches her with a mix of sorrow and connection, understanding passing between them without words. (Generated by Eladarmi's player using Openart.ai) |
 "Awakening in the Gardens": At the heart of the Ice Gardens, surrounded by rainbow-lit icicles and the shimmering wings of dozens of sprites, Asrai bursts forth from the blade in a swirl of radiant magic. Her full form glows, arms spread joyfully as her curse breaks. Eladarmi stands with the blade still in hand, eyes wide, awe in his expression. The ancient hallowed tree frames the moment, its crystalline branches alive with light. (Generated by Eladarmi's player using Openart.ai) |
★-About Asrai
- Asrai, the mischievous sprite who is bound to Eladarmi's enruned badelaire. As a faithful companion to the paladin Eladarmi,
- Asrai possesses an array of magical powers that make her an invaluable ally on their adventures.
- With her short, tufted silver-tipped blonde hair and crystal icy blue eyes, Asrai's appearance is enchanting and ethereal.
- Her delicate features and stunning beauty captivate those who lay eyes upon her.
- Wearing a silver headband adorned with a triangular-shaped icy blue diamond, the accessory enhances her magical abilities
- and adds a touch of elegance to her look.
- Though she is a loyal companion to Eladarmi, Asrai can be quite mischievous, with a playful nature that surfaces from time to time.
- She often surprises others with her spontaneous antics, and her impish behavior adds a lively spirit to their travels.
- One of Asrai's most significant abilities is her power to share mana with Eladarmi, bolstering his magical strength and providing
- him with the energy he needs to carry out his duties as a paladin.
- Additionally, she can launch plasma bursts at their foes, unleashing powerful and dazzling attacks that can disorient and defeat their enemies.
- Furthermore, Asrai is adept at creating a magical barrier around herself and Eladarmi, offering them protection from hostile magic.
- This barrier serves as a shield against malevolent spells and provides them with a safe space to strategize and regroup in the midst of battle.
- While Asrai may exhibit rudeness to strangers at times, her loyalty and devotion to Eladarmi and their shared cause remain unwavering.
- She holds a special fondness for beautiful women, and her admiration for their allure often leads to interesting and amusing encounters during their quests.
- Asrai is an extraordinary and enigmatic sprite whose beauty, mischievousness, and magical prowess make her an integral part of Eladarmi's journey as a paladin.
- With her by his side, they face the world's challenges with courage and determination, leaving a trail of marvel and enchantment wherever they go.
-Frozen Echoes: The Chronicles of Eladarmi and Alira
As Eladarmi's journey led him to the mysterious ancient temple high in the mountains, he found himself facing a series of trials and challenges set by the temple's ancient guardians. Each trial tested his courage, wisdom, and compassion, reflecting the virtues of a true paladin.
At the heart of the temple, he encountered a hidden chamber, veiled by powerful enchantments and ancient runes. Inside the chamber, a pedestal held an ethereal light that illuminated an exquisite suit of midnight blue ghetzye full plate. The armor seemed to pulse with a mesmerizing glow, as if it were calling out to him.
As he approached the armor, he felt an undeniable connection, as if the armor and he were meant to be united. It resonated with the purity of his heart and his unwavering dedication to bring harmony to the world. With a deep breath, he reached out and donned the armor.
As the ghezyte armor settled on him, a rush of icy wind engulfed the chamber, and Eladarmi felt a surge of magical energy coursing through him. In that moment, he heard a distant but familiar voice, gentle like a whispering breeze. The voice spoke of an ancient legend—a tale of the Storm Griffin, a noble and powerful being who once soared the skies and protected the land from the wrath of devastating storms.
The legend revealed that the spirit of the Storm Griffin and her Giantkin rider had sacrificed themselves long ago to save the world from a cataclysmic storm. As a result, her essence had become one with the enchanted armor, waiting for a noble and worthy soul to inherit it and carry on her legacy.
The crossed lightning bolts on the chestplate represented the storm and ice that the Storm Griffin embodied. It was a symbol of her immense power and the harmony she sought to bring to the world. As Eladarmi donned the full plate, he became the chosen bearer of the Storm Griffin's spirit.
In that sacred moment, the spirit of the Storm Griffin, known as Alira, revealed herself to Eladarmi. Her presence was both majestic and soothing, akin to the tranquility of a calm winter's night. She spoke of their shared purpose—to bring harmony and balance to the world and to protect the innocent from the turmoil of chaos.
With a newfound sense of purpose and with the Storm Griffin's spirit by his side, Eladarmi emerged from the ancient temple, donned in the majestic armor that bore the legacy of the noble being known as Alira. From that moment on, Eladarmi and Alira became bonded companions, their spirits intertwining through the enchanted armor, where she would lend him her strength in the most perilous of times.
Together, they continued their epic journey, facing the trials and challenges that lay ahead with unwavering resolve. Eladarmi now possessed not only the strength and wisdom of a paladin but also the power and guidance of the Storm Griffin's essence. As they set forth, their tale became one of courage, destiny, and the unbreakable bond between a warrior and a noble spirit, united in their quest to bring peace and harmony to the world.
 "The Trials of the Temple" A majestic, ancient temple high in the snow-capped mountains, partially hidden by mist and timeworn stone structures entwined with vines and glowing runes. Eladarmi, a noble Giantkin paladin with flowing dark-blond hair and a heavy travel cloak, stands at the entrance, gazing up with reverence and determination. In the midground, stone guardians flank the path—titanic statues animated with magical energy, each representing a virtue: Courage, Wisdom, and Compassion. (Generated by Eladarmi's player using openart.ai) |
 "The Awakening of Alira" An ancient inner chamber bathed in ethereal sapphire and silver light. At its center, an ornate pedestal rises from a crystalline floor. Resting atop it is a midnight blue ghezyte full plate armor, gently pulsing with internal light, flecked with starlike specks and crossed lightning bolts engraved across the chestplate. Eladarmi stands just before the armor, reaching out with one hand—his face caught between awe, humility, and destiny. As his hand brushes the armor, a sudden whirlwind of icy wind and light envelops the chamber. Above him, the ghostly image of Alira, the Storm Griffin, begins to form—soaring, translucent, and radiant. She is large and majestic, a fusion of eagle and lion with silvery-blue feathers trailing frost and lightning. Her eyes glow gently as they meet his.(Generated by Eladarmi's player using Openart.ai) |
 "The Bond Forged in Storm" Eladarmi now fully donned in the ghezyte armor, stands heroically on a craggy mountain peak with the enchanted full plate shimmering with starlight and icy magic. The crossed lightning bolts on his chestplate glow faintly with storm energy. His cloak whips in the wind behind him. Above and behind him, Alira the Storm Griffin circles in the sky, made of shimmering spectral light and clouds, trailing frost and thunderous echoes. Storm clouds part around her presence, revealing a patch of stars. Below them, the world sprawls out—lush valleys, distant warfronts, and places in need of peace. Eladarmi's eyes are set forward, resolute.(Generated by Eladarmi's player using Openart.ai) |
-A Paladin's Birthright: Eladarmi and the Glacial Aegis Shield
Eladarmi had always been captivated by the tales his father had shared with him, especially the one about the legendary shield hidden within an iceberg in the outer rim of their ancestral homeland of Sardin. As a young boy, he would often sit by the hearth, wide-eyed with wonder, as his father spun stories of valor and adventure.
"Eladarmi," his father would say, his eyes sparkling with nostalgia, "the Shield of Sardin is no ordinary artifact. It is said to be forged by the ancient guardians of our land, enchanted to protect our people in times of great peril. It's hidden deep within the icy heart of an iceberg, and only those with the blood of our ancestors, of the storm giants themselves can find it." Eladarmi had grown up listening to these tales, and they had become an integral part of his identity. He had always felt a strong connection to his homeland, even though it ceased to exist due to Charl’s wrath set upon his kind.
But as the years passed studying in the Temple of VOLN, Eldarmi's longing to connect with his roots grew stronger. He yearned to visit the lands around his ancestral home and, if fate would allow it, uncover the fabled Shield of Sardin. His father had taught him that the shield held immense power, not only to protect, but also to unite their people and heal the land that had suffered from years of turmoil. One crisp winter morning, Eladarmi stood on the deck of a ship bound for waters north of Mount Aenatumgana. He had saved every coin he could, and now, with a small group of trusted friends, he embarked on a perilous journey. The icy waters of the outer rim were treacherous, but Eladarmi was undeterred. His father's tales had filled him with courage and determination. As they neared the frigid coastlines of nearby volcanic islands the Isle of Sardin used to stand, Eladarmi's heart raced. He knew they had to search the frozen waters, guided only by the stories passed down through generations. The group faced bitter cold and biting winds, but their resolve remained unbroken. Days turned into weeks, and Eladarmi's hope began to wane. They had explored numerous icebergs, but the Shield of Sardin remained elusive. Doubt gnawed at the edges of his mind, but he pushed forward, unwilling to give up on his quest.
Then, one fateful day, as they explored yet another iceberg, something remarkable happened. Eladarmi's noticed a curious indentation in the ice. His heart skipped a beat as he hacked away at the ice with a pick feverishly. With trembling hands he strikes a few solid cracks, the ice sheet collapses revealing a doorway with the familiar starveil emblem of Sardin—a soaring storm griffin with outstretched wings in the starry night. With trembling hands, Eladarmi and his companions began to chip away at the ice around this door, and as they pried it open, a blinding blue light emerged radiating down the narrow chamber that once belonged to his ancestors, the noble Storm Giants of Sardin.
He wandered down the passageway into a round chamber adorned with intricate carvings and symbols, depicting the history of his lineage and the legacy of his people. At the center of the chamber, a mithril statue with large rhimar and zorchar veins glistening with vethinye depicts of stalwart Giantman clad in armor in a kneeling pose. In his hand rests what could only be the mythic ghezyte shield - “The Shield of Sardin”. An exquisite winged ghezyte greatshield adorned with rhimar icicles along its edges. The shield gleams with a glacial and electric aura, attesting to its magical properties. As Eladarmi approaches the legendary shield, he feels a powerful connection to lineage his spirit ancestors. The Saramar runes on the shield resonate with the ancient Storm Giant language, recounting tales of valor, honor, and the pursuit of harmony. Through the rune words, Eladarmi learns that the Glacial Aegis Shield is a treasured artifact passed down through generations, gifted by the Storm Giants' ancestors to their chosen Giantkin champions. It served as both a symbol of their legacy and a powerful tool to defend against the icy threats of the Glacial Tundra.
As he reaches out to grasp the shield, a sense of reverence fills him. He understands that this gift represents the trust and hopes of his lineage, who once sought to protect the land and maintain balance with nature. With gratitude in his heart, Eladarmi claims the Shield of Sardin as the heir to his ancestors' noble heritage. From that moment on, the glacial aegis shield becomes a cherished item, not just for its defensive capabilities but for the connection it grants Eladarmi to his roots. As he carries the winged greatshield, he feels the presence and guidance of his ancestors, inspiring him to walk in their footsteps and honor their legacy. With the Shield of Sardin in his possession, Eladamri's journey takes on a deeper significance, as he embraces his ancestral heritage and seeks to embody the virtues and principles of the Storm Giants. His quest for a new home and the pursuit of harmony become intertwined with the storied history of his people, motivating him to carry forth their legacy with pride and determination."
 "The Hearth and the Horizon": A cozy interior of Stormthunder's castle nestled in a rugged, frostbitten mountain region, long before Sardin’s fall. A younger Eladarmi sits wide-eyed by the fire, bundled in furs, listening intently to his father—a tall, broad-shouldered Giantkin with a silver-streaked beard and wise eyes, animated as he recounts the legend of the Shield of Sardin. Above them, the stone hearth glows warmly, casting flickering light on the carved wooden walls adorned with faded tapestries and ancestral symbols. In the smoke and flickering flames, vague shapes form—a storm griffin in flight, a colossal shield embedded in ice, and mountain peaks swirling with magic—as if the tales are coming to life before Eladarmi's young eyes. (Generated by Eladarmi's player using Openart.ai) |
 "The Discovery in the Ice" A dramatic scene in the frozen outer rim north of Mount Aenatumgana. Eladarmi, now grown and armored in well-worn winter gear, stands before a massive iceberg under an overcast sky. He's just struck the final blow to crack through the glacial wall. The ice has shattered to reveal an ancient doorway glowing with radiant blue light. The doorway bears the Starveil emblem of Sardin—a storm griffin with wings outstretched under a celestial sky, glowing with runes.(Generated by Eladarmi's player using Openart.ai) |
 "The Glacial Aegis" An ethereal underground chamber, glowing faintly with frost-light and magic. The round walls are etched in ancient runes and murals of Giantkin history—scenes of battles, elemental harmony, and massive storm griffins. At the center kneels a mithril statue of a Storm Giant champion, veins of rhimar, zorchar, and shimmering vethinye running through the sculpture like enchanted blood. In the statue’s grasp rests the legendary ghezyte shield—a massive winged greatshield with edges tipped in icy rhimar spires. The entire shield glows softly with a glacial and electric shimmer, its Saramar runes pulsing with recognition. Eladarmi stands before it, reaching out reverently, eyes wide with tears and understanding. He’s illuminated in the center beam of the magical blue light, his armor and spirit aligned with the sacred moment. Ghostly figures—Storm Giant ancestors—faintly materialize in the background or walls, watching with approval and pride.(Generated by Eladarmi's player using Openart.ai) |
-Strings of Legacy: Eladamri's Melodic Quest for Harmony
As Eladarmi continued his adventurous journey to uncover the mysteries surrounding his homeland, he found himself stepping onto the shores west of Pinefar, where he had been washed ashore long ago.
With an unwavering determination in his heart, he combed the coastline for driftwood pieces, searching for any signs or clues that might shed light on the fate of his homeland. Carefully, he selected intact weathered planks, hoping they might hold secrets of the past. After days of diligent searching, he stumbled upon an ash white piece of driftwood, its surface bearing marks of a lightning strike. Memories flooded his mind as he recalled the haunting image of the schooner's siren ash white figurehead. He reverently wrapped the wood in linen and stowed it in his pack, a precious relic of his lost past.
Having gathered enough debris from the shoreline, he ventured further north into the ancient forests, seeking the dark wood native to his homelands. Along his journey, he often took time to dive into the icy waters, gathering giant oysters as a source of sustenance. To his astonishment, many of these oysters yielded black pearls of varying shapes and sizes. On one special evening, he even discovered a rare Nacre, an enormous mother-of-pearl, shimmering with a mesmerizing allure. These treasures held a profound significance, reminding him of his ancestry and the precious connection he sought to rediscover.
Despite his relentless search, the island of his ancestors remained elusive. Yet, upon his return from the lands of his fathers, Eladarmi made a decision to honor his heritage by creating a tribute to his lineage. He sought out a skilled Luthier who could transform the gathered items into a masterpiece instrument that would echo the harmony he sought to bring to the world. The Black Pearl Inlaid Driftwood Mandolin spoke to his soul, embodying the essence of his quest and the hopes of his people.
The Luthier's craftsmanship turned the driftwood into a smooth soundboard, resonating with a unique and exceptional tone. The black pearls he retrieved from the ocean depths became a stunning inlay, adorning the neck of the mandolin, symbolizing the hidden beauty of his ancestral legacy. The dark wood headstock was elegantly adorned with intricate mother-of-pearl designs, paying homage to the nobility of his people and their noble past.
The end result was a breathtaking instrument that not only exuded beauty but also encapsulated the soulful harmony of Eladamri's purpose. When he strummed the strings, the sound resonated with a deep and serene power, reminiscent of the elemental forces that guided his quest.
As Eladarmi continued his journey, the Black Pearl Inlaid Driftwood Mandolin became more than just an instrument. It became a companion that mirrored his spirit, spreading the message of harmony and peace wherever its music reached. The mandolin stood as a testament to his resilience, the remembrance of his heritage, and his unwavering pursuit to bring harmony back to the world.
 "The Shoreline of Forgotten Memories" Eladarmi stands on a rugged, windswept beach just west of Pinefar, framed by the crashing sea under a brooding sky. His cloak billows in the cold wind as he kneels, cradling an ash-white piece of driftwood, scorched by a lightning strike. The ocean behind him reflects faint spectral shapes—ghostly hints of a schooner’s siren figurehead rising from the misty waves. Scattered around him are fragments of the past—broken planks, coiled rope, and sea-glass gleaming among the pebbles. The shore fades into distant cliffs veiled in mist, evoking the mystery of his lost homeland. (Generated by Eladarmi's player using Openart.ai) |
 "The Dive and the Discovery" Underwater, illuminated by rays of sun piercing through the icy blue sea, Eladarmi is shown diving among oyster beds. His hair and garments float ethereally, and his hand reaches toward a giant oyster cracked open to reveal a gleaming black pearl. Around him, fish scatter in trails of bubbles, and a larger oyster nearby holds the rare Nacre, glowing softly with opalescent hues of pink, green, and silver. (Generated by Eladarmi's player using Openart.ai) |
 "The Mandolin’s Creation and Song"Inside a warmly lit workshop, Eladarmi and a wise, elderly Luthier stand over a glowing mandolin resting on a velvet cloth. The Black Pearl Inlaid Driftwood Mandolin is the centerpiece—its soundboard made from smoothed pale wood, its neck shimmering with black pearl inlays, and its headstock carved from rich, dark wood, adorned with intricate mother-of-pearl filigree like constellations of a forgotten kingdom. (Generated by Eladarmi's player using Openart.ai) |
-Bolts of Friendship: A Sprit's Tribute
- Once, during his travels, Eladarmi encountered a masterful merchant named Elote, renowned for crafting exquisite and magical items. Impressed by Elote's skills and reputation, Eladarmi sought his expertise to create a scabbard worthy of protecting and honoring his loyal sprite companion, Asrai.
- Elote welcomed Eladarmi warmly into his shop, a wondrous emporium filled with treasures from far-off lands. As they discussed the design of the scabbard, Elote was inspired by Eladamri's tales of Asrai, the sprite who had saved him during his darkest hour. He envisioned a scabbard that would capture the electrifying energy and ethereal beauty of a raging storm, much like the one that had saved Eladamri's life.
- To bring his vision to life, Elote used sleek silver-toned metal as the base for the scabbard. With extraordinary precision, he etched intricate designs of cloud sprite silhouettes dancing between bolts of lightning. The metal seemed to come alive, reflecting the play of light like a stormy sky.
- For the fasteners and coiling belt loop, Elote chose smoky glass. The lightning bolt motifs on the glass shimmered with an otherworldly glow, capturing the essence of the storm's power. The scabbard appeared to channel the energy of the tempest, an embodiment of the very forces that protected Eladarmi and Asrai during their journey.
- Inside the scabbard, Elote meticulously embroidered a lining that depicted cloud sprites surrounded by droplets of blue-stitched water. The graceful embroidery portrayed the water's purity and the sprites' affinity for nature. In the center, a representation of a paladin stood, his weapon drawn, ready to defend against any threat. Jagged strikes of lightning encircled the paladin, symbolizing the bond between Eladarmi and his sprite companion, Asrai.
- As the scabbard took shape, Eladarmi marveled at the craftsmanship and attention to detail. It was as if the scabbard had a life of its own, pulsating with the power of the storm. Elote explained that the scabbard was not only a protective casing for Eladamri's weapon but also a token of honor for Asrai, the sprite who had become a steadfast companion on his journey.
- When the scabbard was finally completed, Eladarmi held it in his hands, feeling the magic that seemed to emanate from its very core. Asrai, too, was captivated by the scabbard's beauty and enchantment. With a heart filled with gratitude, Eladarmi strapped the scabbard to his side, knowing that it would not only protect his beloved Asrai and his weapon, but also symbolize the enduring bond between him and his loyal sprite companion.
- From that day forward, Eladarmi and Asrai continued their quest for harmony, the sleek silver-toned scabbard a testament to their unyielding unity in the face of all challenges. As they traversed the lands, the scabbard's etchings glimmered like the dancing sprites in a storm, a reminder of the electrifying energy of their friendship and the ethereal beauty of their shared journey.
★-Eladarmi's Popular Musical Compositions'
★-Icemule Trace's Winter Grace
- (Verse 1)
- In a land of snow and frost, where bitter winds embrace,
- There lies a frozen town, in a cold and barren space.
- Icemule Trace, its name, where warmth is hard to find,
- But the halfling folk, they thrive, with hearts both strong and kind.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, Icemule Trace, a haven in the ice,
- Halflings brave the winter, with spirits warm and nice.
- Their laughter fills the air, like a crackling fire's glow,
- In Icemule Trace, they dance through ice and snow.
- (Verse 2)
- Little houses line the streets, built low against the chill,
- Roofs adorned with sparkling ice, a sight that brings a thrill.
- The halflings, ever nimble, on frosty pathways tread,
- Their smiles, like rays of sunshine, unfreezing hearts that dread.
- (Bridge)
- They gather 'round the hearth, with tales of winter's lore,
- Sipping hot cocoa, their laughter echoes more and more.
- A sense of kinship binds them, like family through and through,
- In Icemule Trace, they find strength in all they do.
- (Verse 3)
- Through blizzards fierce and biting cold, they venture hand in hand,
- Exploring frozen wonders, in a land that's vast and grand.
- With their small but mighty hearts, they bring warmth to all they meet,
- In Icemule Trace, their kindness turns the frost to heat.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, Icemule Trace, a haven in the ice,
- Halflings brave the winter, with spirits warm and nice.
- Their laughter fills the air, like a crackling fire's glow,
- In Icemule Trace, they dance through ice and snow.
- (Outro)
- So, let us raise our voices, in praise of Icemule Trace,
- Where halflings brave the winter, with joy upon their face.
- In this frozen town, love and warmth will always thrive,
- Icemule Trace, a beacon of hope, where halflings truly thrive.
★-Drake's Call, A Captain's Tale
- (Verse 1)
- In the land of legends, where the waters meet the sky.
- There sails a leader, with fire in his eyes.
- Svardin is his name, the master of the sea,
- A drake among the waves, a spirit wild and free.
- (Chorus)
- Svardin, the leader of the drakes who sail the seas,
- With strength and courage, he'll conquer all that be.
- He howls like a wolf, his voice echoing through the night,
- Talking to the statues, in their silent, stony plight.
(Verse 2)
- With every gust of wind, his spirit takes to flight,
- Guiding his loyal crew, through storms of darkest night.
- His heart is fierce and true, a fire burning bright,
- He protects his kin, with all his fiery might.
(Bridge)
- A canine in his essence, loyal and untamed,
- He runs with the pack, a leader never shamed.
- Inanimate things, they listen when he speaks,
- For his words carry wisdom, reaching mountain peaks.
(Verse 3)
- Through treacherous waters, they journey far and wide,
Svardin at the helm, his spirit un-denied.
- His crew, a family, bound by a common goal,
- To conquer every challenge, as the mighty drakes patrol.
(Chorus)
- Svardin, the leader of the drakes who sail the seas,
- With strength and courage, he'll conquer all that be.
- He howls like a wolf, his voice echoing through the night,
- Talking to the statues, in their silent, stony plight.
(Outro)
- So let the legends sing of Svardin's mighty reign,
- A leader like no other, a beacon in the rain.
- He'll sail the boundless ocean, with his crew so true,
- Svardin, the drake leader, forever we'll follow you.
★-Icemule's Guardians: Severine's Blades of Grace:
- (Verse 1)
- In the frozen town of Icemule Trace,
- There's a figure, elegant with grace.
- Severine, a warrior fierce and true,
- With her fox Ren by her side, a bond so true.
- (Chorus)
- Severine and Renard, a duo in the night,
- Wielding vultite blades, gleaming in the light.
- With badelaire and coustille, in her skilled hand,
- She roams the icy lands, a legend in this land.
- (Verse 2)
- Her badelaire, a vultite wonder,
- A fox-hilted beauty, striking like thunder.
- Each swing, a dance, a lethal art,
- A weapon held dear, a work of martial heart.
- Her coustille, dark vultite's gleaming might,
- With a fox hilt, it's a mesmerizing sight.
- Damascened finish, intricate and grand,
- Reflecting her spirit, unwavering, and grand.
- (Bridge)
- Through frost-kissed winds, they journey on,
- A bond unbreakable, like a forever song.
- Severine and her fox, an unbreakable pair,
- Braving the cold, no challenge they can't bear.
- (Verse 3)
- In Icemule Trace, their legend spreads wide,
- A tale of bravery, where heroes reside.
- Through icy streets and snow-covered trails,
- They stand as protectors, when darkness prevails.
- (Chorus)
- Severine and Renard, defenders of the trace,
- Their blades shining bright, leaving foes in disgrace.
- With badelaire and coustille, their story unfolds,
- A testament to courage, where legends are told.
- (Outro)
- In the frozen town of Icemule Trace,
- Severine and Ren leave a lasting trace.
- With vultite blades and hearts of fire,
- They inspire the frozen lands, never to tire.
★-The Chilled Commander's Vision
- (Verse 1)
- In the frozen town of Icemule Trace,
- Where the winds howl and the snowflakes race,
- There lived a warrior bold and true,
- Grutak, Commander, with a vision anew.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, Grutak, fearless leader of might,
- With his Regulators, he'd stand and fight,
- For a free north, his heart did yearn,
- In Icemule Trace, his legacy would burn.
- (Verse 2)
- With sword in hand and armor gleaming,
- Grutak's spirit blazed, his eyes were beaming,
- He rallied the people, united as one,
- To break the chains, their battles begun.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, Grutak, fearless leader of might,
- With his Regulators, he'd stand and fight,
- For a free north, his heart did yearn,
- In Icemule Trace, his legacy would burn.
- (Bridge)
- Through icy plains and treacherous cold,
- Grutak led his warriors, courageous and bold,
- They faced the oppressors with strength in their stride,
- For the freedom they sought, they'd never hide.
- (Verse 3)
- In the heart of winter's unforgiving grasp,
- Grutak fought fiercely, his spirit unclasped,
- His voice echoed through the frozen air,
- Inspiring hope, banishing despair.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, Grutak, fearless leader of might,
- With his Regulators, he'd stand and fight,
- For a free north, his heart did yearn,
- In Icemule Trace, his legacy would burn.
- (Outro)
- Grutak, Commander, a hero renowned,
- His name in the winds of the north did resound,
- In Icemule Trace, his memory will remain,
- A beacon of freedom, a relentless flame.
★-Cackles of the Landing's Copper Sorceress
- (Verse 1)
- In Wehnimer's Landing town, there's a lady of renown,
- With copper-red hair that flows, and eyes that seem to roam,
- They call her the Sacrificer, though her heart is full of fire,
- She's Lady Wixterwin Myaresa, dancing to her own lyre.
- (Pre-Chorus)
- Ankle-length hair, a wild cascade,
- Streaks of light in the copper braid,
- She's not insane, just playful and free,
- A sorceress in her own jubilant spree.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, Lady Wixterwin, full of glee,
- A whirlwind spirit, wild and carefree,
- Cackling laughter fills the air,
- A misfit soul beyond compare.
- (Verse 2)
- She's shorter than most, but her spirit stands tall,
- Staring into the distance, she sees beyond the wall,
- With spells and incantations, she weaves her magic lore,
- A sorceress of power, misunderstood for sure.
- (Bridge)
- She sacrifices critters, it's true they say,
- But it's all in the name of her peculiar way,
- To her, it's a game, a dance of delight,
- A connection to magic, both day and night.
- (Pre-Chorus)
- Ankle-length hair, a wild cascade,
- Streaks of light in the copper braid,
- She's not insane, just playful and free,
- A sorceress in her own jubilant spree.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, Lady Wixterwin, full of glee,
- A whirlwind spirit, wild and carefree,
- Cackling laughter fills the air,
- A misfit soul beyond compare.
- (Outro)
- So if you pass her by in Wehnimer's town,
- Don't judge her by the rumors that go around,
- For Lady Wixterwin Myaresa, so full of fun,
- Dances to her own tune beneath the same sun.
★-Rising Beyond: Saraphenia's Epic Overture
- (Verse 1)
- In a land where stories weave and wind,
- A tale of strength and love we find,
- Grand Lady Saraphenia, Autumnwind's grace,
- From bard to monk, a journey to embrace.
- Born a slave on Bree'ne's distant shore,
- She rose above, her spirit soared,
- Almond eyes like stars, so deep and true,
- Olive skin kissed by sun's golden hue.
- (Pre-Chorus)
- Failed as a bard, yet lessons learned,
- Her mentor's wisdom, once spurned,
- But life's twists and turns, they found their way,
- From the shadows to the light of day.
- (Verse 2)
- Waist-length hair like midnight's stream,
- Regal diadem, a monarch's dream,
- Fire opal shards, they blaze and gleam,
- A symbol of strength, a warrior's theme.
- (Pre-Chorus)
- Tiny butterflies, they dance on brow,
- Tattoos tell stories of then and now,
- Ebon-lined dragonfly, plum and free,
- A soaring eagle, a lute's melody.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, Grand Lady of love's endless flight,
- From humble beginnings to radiant heights,
- With wings of silver, and heart so bold,
- You shine through stories, your tale unfolds.
- (Bridge)
- Frost Queen's aura, a councilor's might,
- Wehnmir's Landing bathed in your light,
- Married to Leafiara, goddess so dear,
- Love's boundless essence, always near.
- (Verse 3)
- Monk in battle, fierce and strong,
- You fight for right, for justice long,
- Mistwood lily charm, leaves of gold,
- Your wings of courage, a sight to behold.
- (Pre-Chorus)
- In every mark, in every ink,
- In every scar, and every link,
- Your spirit's fire, it blazes bright,
- Guiding us through both day and night.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, Grand Lady of love's endless flight,
- From humble beginnings to radiant heights,
- With wings of silver, and heart so bold,
- You shine through stories, your tale unfolds.
- (Outro)
- So let us honor with voices raised,
- The path you've trod, the love that blazed,
- Grand Lady Saraphenia, your story true,
- A testament to love, forever anew.
★-Eternal Echoes: Saraphenia's Legacy
- (Verse 1)
- Amidst the whispers of the wind and trees,
- A legend fades, yet memories seize,
- Grand Lady Saraphenia, in tales enshrined,
- Her legacy endures, her spirit defined.
- From humble beginnings, she soared on high,
- A beacon of hope beneath the sky,
- With every step, she left her mark,
- In hearts and minds, through light and dark.
- (Pre-Chorus)
- Though she's passed beyond mortal sight,
- Her essence lingers, a guiding light,
- In every leaf that dances on the breeze,
- In every story told with reverence and ease.
- (Verse 2)
- Gone is the fire opal's blazing gleam,
- Yet in our hearts, it's a constant beam,
- Her courage, her wisdom, forever alive,
- In the echoes of tales, we continue to thrive.
- The Frost Queen's aura, a memory grand,
- Her love for Leafiara, across the land,
- A warrior's spirit, fierce and true,
- In our memories, Saraphenia, we honor you.
- (Pre-Chorus)
- Each scar, each tattoo, a tale to be told,
- A life lived bravely, a legacy of gold,
- Through battles fought and victories won,
- Your spirit endures, bright as the sun.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, Grand Lady, your wings may rest,
- But in our hearts, you're forever blessed,
- With every verse, with every rhyme,
- Your legacy echoes through space and time.
- (Bridge)
- We raise our voices, our hearts entwined,
- In songs of honor, your legacy defined,
- Saraphenia, Grand Lady of love's endless flight,
- Forever remembered, in our hearts alight.
- (Verse 3)
- Though the mistwood lily may fade from view,
- Your spirit blooms in all that we do,
- In every act of kindness, in every stand for right,
- We carry your torch, your guiding light.
- (Pre-Chorus)
- In the tapestry of life, you've woven your thread,
- A legacy of love, where legends tread,
- With each new dawn, we'll sing your praise,
- Grand Lady Saraphenia, in eternal rays.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, Grand Lady, your journey may be done,
- But in our hearts, your story's just begun,
- With wings of silver, and heart so bold,
- Your spirit lives on, in stories untold.
- (Outro)
- So let us gather, in solemn grace,
- To honor your memory, to find solace and embrace,
- Grand Lady Saraphenia, in our hearts you'll stay,
- A legend, a hero, forever and a day.
- You are greatly loved and missed. Thank you for being my friend dearest Saraphenia. With Great Munay, Eladarmi
★-Jade Blade's Anthem: Toxyrox's Tale
- (Intro & Outro)
- In the realm of dreams and daring schemes,
- There's a Dark Elf with grand schemes and gleams,
- Toxyrox Quar'Hessin Faendryl is her name,
- A Bladesinger of valor, she's set her aim.
- (Verse 1)
- With a heart so young, she's a warrior in the making,
- Her dream to fight demons, it's never forsaking,
- She's happy and goofy, like cookies and pies,
- Underneath that jade mask, her spirit does rise.
- (Chorus)
- Toxy, the Jade Blade, so bold and so free,
- In a world full of dreams, she's the one we all see,
- With her tricorn and dreams, in the battles she'll wade,
- Toxyrox Faendryl, the Bladesinger's name is displayed.
- (Verse 2)
- A black tricorn crowns her head so fine,
- Jade coral pinned, like a precious sign,
- Her slender frame hides an age unknown,
- Behind the veniom filigree, her presence has grown.
- (Bridge)
- Jet-black hair, a cascade of night,
- Vaalin and jade beads, a shimmering light,
- Tattoos on her skin tell stories untold,
- A diamond-studded nose ring, a sight to behold.
- (Verse 3)
- Cuts and bruises are her battle scars,
- In her hand, an ivory greatshield she parades,
- A cape of forest jade, a cobbler's pride,
- Her enameled pumpkin pin, never to hide.
- (Verse 4)
- The Jade Blade she's known as, a fearless soul,
- Master Cobbler, Pirate Hunter, her ultimate goal,
- With boats, a sloop, and the brig Osprey so grand,
- She conquers the seas, takes fate in her hand.
- (Verse 5)
- In RYSK's embrace, she fights the empire's might,
- With the Rooks and Black Thorns, she stands in the fight,
- But she's not without flaws, she'll be the first to say,
- Not the brightest mind, and impulsive in her own way.
- (Pre-Outro)
- Unrefined and unapologetic, she'll never conform,
- Grew up among gnomes, where she'd weather the storm,
- Toxy, the Dark Elf with a heart pure and wild,
- In a world of sophistication, she's a free-spirited child.
★-Echoes of the Arena
- (Intro)
- It’s that time of year again, the banners start to fly,
- Duskruin Arena's ready, the gladiators’ eyes.
- Step right up and place your bets, let the games begin,
- The roar of the crowd's electric, feel the rush within.
- (Pre-Chorus)
- Grab your flagons, raise ‘em high, it’s a wild, raucous cheer,
- Fists are flying, monsters crying, it's the season of the year.
- Friends and family take their seats, the cheap ones up above,
- But the thrill of every clash below, they all know and they all love.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, the Duskruin lights are blazing, gladiators’ battle cries,
- The monsters’ growls and cheers of friends are reaching for the skies.
- With a clink and a cheer, let’s raise another round,
- In the heart of the arena, where the legends can be found.
- (Verse 2)
- The arena’s full of shenanigans, the rowdy crowd’s delight,
- From swordplay to the magic sparks, it’s an epic, thrilling sight.
- Bets are flying, tempers high, and name-calling’s on repeat,
- “Show ‘em what you’ve got, you’re on fire!” echoes through the heat.
- (Pre-Chorus)
- Get your drinks, let’s have a toast, to the warriors brave and bold,
- Every hit and every miss, every story to be told.
- Family and friends are cheering, even if their seats are cheap,
- In the heart of all the madness, where the stakes are never steep.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, the Duskruin lights are blazing, gladiators’ battle cries,
- The monsters’ growls and cheers of friends are reaching for the skies.
- With a clink and a cheer, let’s raise another round,
- In the heart of the arena, where the legends can be found.
- (Bridge)
- Every clash, every cheer, every bruise and every scar,
- Brings us closer to the legends, makes us who we are.
- So here’s to all the battles, here’s to every cheer and jest,
- To the warriors in the spotlight, and the ones who give their best.
- (Chorus)
- Oh, the Duskruin lights are blazing, gladiators’ battle cries,
- The monsters’ growls and cheers of friends are reaching for the skies.
- With a clink and a cheer, let’s raise another round,
- In the heart of the arena, where the legends can be found.
- (Outro)
- So when the Duskruin Arena opens, and the night is filled with cheer,
- We’ll remember every victory, every laugh, and every tear.
- Raise your glasses, shout it out, let the games continue on,
- In the heart of the Duskruin madness, where the spirit’s never gone.
- (Finale)
- In the heart of Duskruin's madness, where spirit's never gone.
- Where spirit's never gone, oh no, where spirit's never gonneeee.
★-“Peatwyn, by Rite and Rhyme”
- (A tavern-style bardic tune with a wry smile and a worn holy symbol)
- (Verse 1)
- In the wildwood deep where the ghostlights play,
- And the dead don't rest come end of day,
- Walks a gnome with a shawm and a crooked grin,
- With a flask in his vest and a prayer within.
- (Chorus)
- He’s a cleric by rite, and he smites by light,
- But his heart plays tunes by the fire at night.
- With a crossbow cursed and a hymn on high,
- He’ll bless ya, bury ya, or make you cry!
- (Verse 2)
- His teeth are fake, his nose is flat,
- He cusses like a priest and sings like a cat.
- With scars like maps of a life well-spent,
- And boots that’ve danced ‘cross a continent.
- (Chorus)
- He’s a cleric by rite, and he smites by light,
- But his heart plays tunes by the fire at night.
- With a crossbow cursed and a hymn on high,
- He’ll bless ya, bury ya, or make you cry!
- (Bridge)
- Oh, Voln gave him vows, but music gave him wings,
- And every undead he sends to rest still hears him when he sings...
- (Final Chorus)
- He’s a cleric by rite, and he smites by light,
- Yet he’ll busk in the square come full moon night.
- A bard by blood and a priest by flame,
- Peatwyn, Peatwyn—that’s the name!
-The Last Sardin Chronicles - Vignettes
★-"A Frosty Beginning: Eladarmi's Journey with the Regulators"
- 14th Lormesta, 5123 - On Top of Icemule's Northern Barbet
- Perched atop the towering north wall, a stalwart giantkin with azure skin clenched his newly acquired ice pick. With the strength of Charl coursing through him,
- he swung the pick vigorously at the colossal accumulation of ice. The metallic clang resonated as the pick skidded off the surface, sending splinters of ice
- scattering into the frigid air. Repeatedly, he struck the unyielding ice floe with unwavering determination, until a treacherous patch of slick, frozen stoneway
- betrayed him, causing him to slip and fall to his knees.
- Ice chips dissolved into water droplets on his wind-bitten cheeks, and his brow glistened with crystalline sweat, frozen by the relentless elements.
- Behind him, his Lieutenant watched with an amused smirk, her sharp gaze fixed upon him. Frustration welled up within him as he silently admonished himself,
- "This is my first assignment; I cannot let such a simple task defeat me." He stole a glance over his broad shoulders, catching her gaze, and offered a sheepish grin.
- Without delay, Eladarmi rose to his feet, adjusted his stance, and resumed his task. He hoisted the steel ice pick high above his head,
- then brought it crashing down upon the stubborn ice. Lieutenant Lilanna nodded in approval before moving on,
- her fiery red hair trailing in the northern winds that swept down from the glaciers.
- An hour would pass before she returned. Breathless and fatigued, he raised his ice pick once more, but it slipped sideways, causing him to lose his footing once again,
- landing unceremoniously on his backside. Gazing up at her from the ground, he blinked in embarrassment. With ease,
- Lieutenant Lilanna helped him to his feet and walked toward the edge of the defensive wall.
- Eladarmi followed, his eyes fixed on the towering glaciers, inhaling the biting air deeply into his lungs.
- As he exhaled, he couldn't help but appreciate the backdrop of rapidly shifting clouds and blue skies.
- The sun danced on the glistening terrain to the north, creating a myriad of breathtaking patterns.
- The distant hum of the "Mulers", going about their daily routines, sounded like bees returning to their hive after collecting honey.
- Eladarmi murmured to himself, "This is home," after a contemplative pause.
- His gaze then shifted to his Lieutenant, and his heart raced—was it just nerves or something more? But before he could ponder further,
- she turned away and started down the barbet.
- With a faint smile, the Lieutenant declared, "Come, recruit. There is much to be done today," as she continued her stride towards the western barbican.
- Eladarmi rested his ice pick on his right shoulder, stealing one last glance at the shimmering skyline and
- the defiant pennant flags fluttering in the face of the city's adversaries and the relentless cold winds. With determination, he turned and followed in her footsteps.
★-"Shields of Honor: Eladarmi's Giant Reconciliation Odyssey"
- 11th Imaerasta, 5123 - In his Hovel Outside of the Town of Icemule Trace
- The moon hung low in the night sky, casting an ethereal glow over the snow-covered landscape surrounding Icemule Trace.
- The air was crisp and biting, yet the warmth of the town's indomitable spirit radiated even in the frosty wilderness.
- Earlier that evening, the council had convened, and a momentous decision was reached: Eladarmi Storvald would be among the envoys
- chosen to parley with the hostile giant clans of the north lands.
- Eladarmi, fortified by copious amounts of Lady Lithyia's rose-flavored absinthe, had volunteered himself for this audacious mission.
- His courage had surged from the depths of his heart, stoked by an unwavering determination :to rebuild the frayed bonds between his ancestors,
- the Sardin Storm Giants, and the long-forgotten Frost Giants. Their once-sacred friendship had crumbled under Charl's unrelenting fury,
- and now, like the sturdy shields he'd :craft, it was time to mend those fractured connections.
- Amidst the turmoil of his thoughts, a mischievous and loving sprite named Asrai manifested herself beside him. Asrai was a constant companion,
- a sprite of ethereal beauty with luminescent wings that shimmered like the :moonlight itself. She exuded an aura of tranquility and mischief,
- and her presence never failed to bring comfort to Eladarmi in times of uncertainty.
- With a tender smile, Asrai whispered soothing words into Eladarmi's ear, her voice like the gentle caress of a summer breeze.
- "Fear not, dear Eladarmi," she murmured. "Your heart is as vast as the ocean, and your intentions pure.
- The spirits of your ancestors watch over you, and the bonds you seek to mend are woven into the very fabric of your being."
- Eladarmi's tense shoulders relaxed under the sprite's ethereal touch, and he found solace in her presence. With Asrai's encouragement,
- he knew he could find the courage to face the daunting task ahead.
- Guided by uncertain steps, Eladarmi departed the town meeting, briefly faltering as he passed the gate guard,
- who cast upon him a glance that mingled sympathy with apprehension. His destination lay beyond the town's bounds,
- within his sanctuary—the hallowed-out pine tree that had become his home away from home. Amidst the sheltering branches and a bed of soft pine needles,
- he sought the solitude and clarity essential to pen the vital letter.
- Within his cozy hovel, a makeshift hearth and well-placed spells conspired to generate a comforting warmth.
- Eladarmi took his place on a simple wooden stool and surveyed the walls, where his magnificent collection of shields :was displayed like a gallery of honor.
- Each shield narrated a chapter in his journey—a voyage of redemption, reconciliation, and the relentless pursuit of unity among giants.
- These shields weren't merely tools of defense; :they were mirrors reflecting his character, ideals, and his unyielding determination to mend the wounds of the past.
- He retrieved a leather-bound journal and an inkwell, the latter requiring a steadying hand to prevent its trembling. His gaze fell upon the three great shields,
- representations of the clans presented before the council:
- a Rhimar great shield etched with silver runes for the Frost Giants Clan,
- a Drakar great shield adorned with crimson runes for the Fire Giant Clan,
- and a Gornar greatshield intricately inscribed with golden runes for the Wslamir Clan.
- With a quill dipped into the inkwell, words flowed from his heart and soul onto the parchment:
- "To the Noble Frost Giants of the North,
- I, Eladarmi Storvald, a descendant of the Sardin Storm Giantkin, pen these words with a heavy heart, yet hope kindles within.
- In ages past, our ancestors shared bonds forged in friendship and mutual respect.
- A bond severed by the cruel hand of fate, my deepest desire is to rekindle it once more.
- I come not as an envoy of power, but as a humble servant of peace. I seek to end the bloodshed that mars our ancestral lands.
- The fire giants and the Wslamir Clan, our rivals, are but pawns in a world that revels in chaos.
- In the spirit of reconciliation, the town of Icemule Trace extends an olive branch—not as a gesture of submission,
- but as a symbol of our willingness to coexist in harmony.
- Food to sustain your clans through the harshest winters, alcohol to warm your hearts,
- jewelry to adorn your noble selves, clothing to protect against the biting cold,
- and master-crafted weapons to ensure your strength is never underestimated.
- As a testament to our commitment to unity, I present my Rhimar great shield etched with the silver runes of our people,
- designed to cool even the hottest tempers.
- Let us cast aside our grievances and stand together as giants, as kin, once more with the citizens of Icemule Trace.
- Together, we shall face the challenges that threaten our lands and rebuild the bonds of friendship that :once united us.
- With hope and humility,
- Eladarmi Storvald - The Last Sardin"
- As Eladarmi finished writing the letter, he paused, his eyes shifting to the gentle sprite beside him.
- With a mixture of anticipation and curiosity, he turned toward Asrai, his voice soft and filled with uncertainty.
- "What do you think, dear Asrai? Have I captured the sincerity of my heart and the hope for reconciliation in these words?"
- Asrai, her luminescent wings casting a soft, soothing light in the cozy hovel, regarded the letter with a thoughtful expression.
- Her tiny hand, delicate as a snowflake, reached out to trace the inked runes on the parchment.
- "Your words, Eladarmi, carry the weight of your longing and your noble intentions.
- They dance like moonbeams on water, weaving a tale of unity and healing. The spirits of your ancestors would surely be proud."
- Eladarmi's heart swelled with gratitude for the sprite's presence and wisdom.
- Her reassurance bolstered his resolve, and with renewed determination, he sealed the letter with the town's emblem, ready to present it to the council and mayor for review.
- In the hopes of rekindling the bonds that had once united their kin. Holding the letter firmly, he extinguished the candles,
- and with Asrai by his side, he left his cozy hovel, venturing once more into the chilly night.
- The moon's silver light and the shadow of Mount Aenatumgana guided his way, while the comforting presence of Asrai remained a steadfast companion on his journey of reconciliation.
- 18th Imaerasta, 5123 - In The Grand Council Chambers
- Eladarmi Storvald sat in the grand council chamber of Icemule Trace, his massive frame hunched over the intricately carved table. His ice-blue eyes, usually filled with determination, were now clouded with a mixture of shock :and apprehension. The council meeting had taken an unexpected turn, and the weight of the revelation had left him momentarily frozen in his chair.
- As the councilors discussed the upcoming parley with the hostile giant clans, the news had come like a chilling gust of wind. Two additional clans, the Ice Giants and the Storm Giants, were expected to join the gathering.
- Eladarmi felt as if the very floor beneath him had cracked open, exposing the abyss of uncertainty.
- The Ice Giants, known for their stoic demeanor and unwavering loyalty to the frosty north, had always been an enigmatic bunch. Eladarmi wondered if they knew of Sardin's tragic fate and the Storvald family's involvement in :invoking Charl's wrath. Would they see him as a representative of a cursed lineage, a harbinger of doom? Or would they be willing to listen to the message of reconciliation and unity he carried in his heart?
- And then there were the Storm Giants, a clan as unpredictable as the tempests they controlled. Eladarmi's thoughts raced to the tales told by the elders, stories of the fierce Storm Giants of his lineage, who commanded
- lightning and thunder with their immense power. How would they view his mission to make amends for the sins of his ancestors, to heal the wounds suffered by the Storm Giants caused by the Sardin's under the Storvald's reign
- and their past conflicts with the small folk?
- Eladarmi's mind was a storm of doubt and worry, his gaze unfocused as he stared into the distance. The council's voices became distant echoes as he grappled with the weight of his responsibility. He knew that the success of
- this parley could reshape the fate of not just the giants but the entire region. "I shall embark on a journey to acquire two additional greatshields—one for the Ice Giants and one for the Storm Giants.
- These shields will be tokens of our commitment, Icemule's will to unity and reconciliation."
- In that moment, Eladarmi's determination resurfaced, like a beacon in the fog of uncertainty. He would carry the legacy of the Storvald family, not as a curse, but as a call to mend the broken bonds. With Charl's name on his
- lips and the hope for reconciliation burning in his heart, he would face the challenges ahead, whatever they might be, and strive to unite the giants once more.*
-"Songs for Snow and Shenanigans"
★-::“The Gilded Discord”
- (Asrai’s Account, as relayed to no one in particular, but definitely loud enough for the gods to hear)
- It technically started with a snowflake.
- A soft, lazy little thing, drifting down like it had nowhere important to be.
- I was doing loops above Eladarmi’s head—plucking at an imaginary lute
- (better than half the bards in the square, thank you very much)—when I spotted Him.
- Peatwyn.
- Cleric. Bard. Chaos incarnate in gnome-sized packaging.
- Silver tongue, seafoam eyes, and a voice that could charm birds right outta their feathers.
- He was already in rare form, sermonizing the street corner like a preacher at a pie fight:
- “With a crossbow cursed and a hymn on high,
- I’ll bless ya, bury ya, or make you cry!”
- And just like that, the square sparked.
- Cobbles hummed, air shimmered, and Eladarmi—bless his noble idiot heart—couldn’t help himself.
- Out came the mandolin. Out came the harmonies. Out came the crowd.
- Verse after verse, they dueled like battle-born bards:
- light versus lyric, hymn versus heresy,
- with me circling overhead like a drunk dragonfly conductor.
- The people cheered.
- Sylvanya cackled.
- Lilanna snorted.
- And me?
- Oh, I was practically glowing.
- And then—oh ho ho then—he tried to kiss me.
- The tall one. The shiny one. The walking paladin with too much poetry in his chest.
- He leaned in to give me—ME!—a kiss on the brow like I was some kind of woodland pet or sentimental relic.
- Naturally, I dodged.
- Intentionally.
- Maybe.
- Who’s to say? Fate’s a fluttery thing.
- The result?
- He missed me entirely and planted a kiss right on Peatwyn’s cheek—mid-sentence.
- The look on both their faces was priceless.
- One stunned. One smug.
- And me? Floating above them, laughing so hard I nearly disintegrated into sparkle dust.
- “I—I was aiming for the sprite!” Eladarmi stammered, all red ears and panicked fingers.
- Peatwyn, composed as ever, just tilted his head like he expected it.
- Like this sort of thing happened all the time.
- “The sprite is deft and daft,” he said with all the gravity of a priest,
- “in its penance for puckered tomfoolery.”
- I have never been so proud.
- And then it happened again.
- Eladarmi’s still trying to recover, straighten his tunic, reclaim his dignity—
- and Peatwyn just leans back in and kisses him again.
- I lost it.
- Fully, utterly lost it.
- Laughed so hard I hit a lamp post. A squirrel fainted. I think Lilanna forgot how breathing works.
- Eladarmi?
- He howled like someone had summoned a ghost from under his armor.
- “That was not an invitation!”
- Peatwyn:
- “I was fey-wrought!”
- At that point, I was flat on my back in midair, spinning like a maple seed.
- Eladarmi stormed a few feet away, muttering about dignity and fate,
- and “this blighted giggle gremlin what haunts my blade.”
- Eventually, Peatwyn kissed his donkey—bless—and made his dramatic escape.
- “I ride for the Rift! Before tomorrow’s memory remembers me wrongly!”
- A line so good I nearly wrote it on a cloud and hung it in the sky.
- Eladarmi, flushed and frazzled, tried to end it with grace:
- “Next time, we duet with a contract. Or at least a safeword.”
- He turned to me, eyes narrowed, jaw set.
- Lilanna, still choking on laughter:
- “Is the safeword ‘more’?”
- I just curled up in midair like a cat in a sunbeam,
- wings twitching with laughter, grinning like I'd swallowed the moon.
- “Dis sprite,” he muttered, like a curse turned lullaby,
- “will be da death of mes.”
- Maybe I will.
- But not before I name our band something fabulous.
- The Gilded Discord.
- The Guilty Discordant.
- Or maybe…
- Peatwyn and the Accidental Kiss.
- Whatever it is, it’ll shine.
- Like snow in candlelight.
- Like laughter between verses.
- Like two fools accidentally falling into harmony.
- And tonight, when the Monastery walls grow cold and quiet,
- I think—just maybe—I'll sneak a song into its stones.
- Let the ghosts have music.
- Let the monks have mischief.
- Let the memory of a single, misplaced kiss echo forever.
★-::“The Gilded Discord”
- (Eladarmi’s Account of Plucked Strings & Puckered Surprises)
- A walk to the Monastery, as told by Eladarmi
- Snow fell soft as harpstrings from a lazy cloud, the sort of hush that clung to the boots like memory.
- I was halfway down Shimmering Mists Lane, still smirking from the square's chaos and song,
- when Asrai, the sprite ever-dramatic, began miming her airborne lute solo—gods help me—behind my head.
- It started, as these things often do, with a shawm's lilting giggle through the frost,
- and a voice—Peatwyn’s—half sermon, half satire, calling down benedictions or mischief—unclear which.
- He sang, bold as sunrise
- “With a crossbow cursed and a hymn on high,
- I’ll bless ya, bury ya, or make you cry!”
- A crowd gathered, the way fire draws cold hands, and I—I could not help myself.
- The mandolin came free, and we began. Verse and verse, harmony and heat.
- He smote, I strummed, he laughed, I teased—the cobbles remembered joy that day.
- “He’s a cleric by rite, and he smites by light,
- Yet he’ll busk in the square come full moon night…”
- And gods above, did the people cheer.
- Even Asrai approved—my mischievous sprite companion. She looped in wild spirals,
- as happy as a sprite who is cursed to be imprisoned to a blade could be.
- I leaned in to give my tiny companion a sign of affection.
- Whether it was intentional or simply a flicker of mischief born from ancient plasma and sass,
- Arsai moves just slightly—my angle thrown off.
- I missed!'
- Entirely!
- And plants a kiss not upon the sprite’s head,
- but directly onto the side of Peatwyn's surprised face as he was mid-sentence!
- He took it like a saint—perhaps surprised,
- perhaps merely amused,
- but no rebuke passed those false, jagged teeth
- that glittered in his mirth like shattered ivory.
- I apologized, of course—multiple times—
- and Sylvanya? That wicked one?
- Oh, she smirked like she'd seen a thousand tales
- end with precisely such a kiss.
- We spoke then of names for our merry brand—the song now echoing into memory.
- Peatwyn and the Penance. The Gilded Discord.
- Even The Guilty Discordant, a name fit for chaos and choir alike.
- When Peatwyn leaned against me, eyes twinkling,
- and declared himself blessed—doubly blessed—
- I thought, not for the first time,
- how rare it is to play, truly play,
- in a world full of war and shadow.
- And yet, there we stood—
- a gnome with a shawm, a paladin with a mandolin,
- a spirit who dances with sparks,
- and laughter that could chase off any specter.
- We were no longer simply travelers or holy men—we were bandmates.
- Discordant, perhaps. Gilded, maybe.
- But whole in a way only music can make you.
- Now I near the Monastery,
- the snow falling soft again,
- and I wonder if the halls of Voln
- have ever echoed with song
- Maybe they will tonight.
-“When Storm Meets Song”
- A Vignette of Eladarmi Storvald and Parwyn of the Galanodel
- 21st day of Olaesta, 5125
- Twilight clung to the marble-pillared gardens of Ta’Illistim like a tired lover,
- the last light of day spilling gold and lavender across ivy-cloaked stone.
- The Hanging Gardens, hushed in reverence, breathed with the fragrance of moonflowers and memory.
- It was here, beneath the coffered dome and the gaze of distant stars, that a giant met a ghost of song.
- He stood like a monument carved from stormclouds and glacier,
- a towering figure cloaked in wind-weathered rusylka and frost-marked steel.
- Eladarmi Storvald—paladin, bard, and wandering soul—rested a gauntleted hand atop the curve of his greatshield,
- eyes of distant thunder regarding the slight, fey-framed woman who lingered near a climbing vine.
- Parwyn of the Galanodel.
- Delicate, but not fragile. Her presence shimmered with something older than the stones beneath their feet—like music spun into flesh,
- woven with silvery sorrow and the ghost of a melody barely remembered.
- When she spoke, it was wary.
- “Usually something as big as you that is trying to touch me means to grab me and smash my head into a rock.”
- Eladarmi gave a low, rich chuckle—a sound like boulders shifting beneath deep snow.
- “Aye, well—if I meant to smash yer head, I’d not be askin’ for permission first, now would I?
- "Lucky for you, I’m the hugger type, not the hurler. Unless yer into that sort of thing… then we might have to negotiate terms.”
- She smirked, but there was no true fear behind her gaze, only a lifetime of caution. He saw it. Respected it.
- “Nice to meet you, Eladarmi Storvald. I am Parwyn. Parwyn of the Galanodel.”
- His brow knit, the name unfamiliar. He let it roll off his tongue like a prayer newly spoken.
- “Parwyn of the Galanodel…” A pause. “I can’t say I’ve heard tale of yer kin or crest,
- but then—there’s whole branches o’ the world still singin’ songs I’ve yet to hear.
- If your name’s half as fine as the way you carry it, I’m sure it’s one worth knowin’.”
- She replied with quiet grace.
- “You are a kind sort.”
- That caught him.
- He turned, the wind catching the edge of his cloak like a flag in the breath of the gods.
- “Kindness,” he murmured, the word heavy in his mouth.
- “Is a blade I choose to carry ‘fore any other. Cold steel’s easy—warmth takes will.”
- Then, softer, “But don’t let it fool you—I’ve got thorns under the snow.”
- “I can understand that very much,” she said, her voice barely above the breeze.
- Eladarmi’s gaze lingered.“Then you’ve weathered storms too.”
- Silence passed between them. Not empty, but full.
- “It’s a strange comfort, isn’t it? When the soul recognizes a familiar wound in another, even if it’s hidden beneath better days.”
- He dipped his head, reverent.
- “We’re shaped by it... but not bound to it. That’s where the real strength lies.”
- '“Aye. Kind and wise.” She replied.
- He chuckled, scratching at his jaw, humbled.
- “Careful now, sayin’ things like that might get you mistaken for a bard yourself.”
- Then, with a wink: “It’s easier to sound wise when you’ve been a fool enough times to know the difference.”
- “I've been that fool more times than I care to remember!”the Paladin exclaimed laughing gently.
- Parwyn hangs her head, "I've been a fool many a time."
- He leaned closer, as if sharing a secret carved into bark and bone.
- “You’re in good company. Only difference between a fool and a wise man is how fast they laugh at their own mistakes—then stand back up.”
- “’Course… some of us had to fall face-first in the same river ten times before realizin’ it weren’t the river’s fault."
- Eladarmi points to his brow.
- "Hard head, soft heart. Dangerous mix.”
- At her quiet nod, he sighed, then smirked.
- “Aye… and I’ve been that fool in front of the dead, no less…”
- He told her of the northern graveyard—the weeping ghosts, the ill-fated lullaby, and the weeklong haunting that ended in musical critique.
- “Great story,” she laughed. “I did have to stifle a chuckle though.”
- “Stifle it?” he scoffed. “Gods, no—laugh louder next time. If I’m to be haunted by the dead, the least I deserve is a good audience.”
- “Then that ghost has bad taste!” Parwyn replied with a grin.
- “Ah, but what do you expect from a ghost?” he said with mock solemnity. “Poor thing’s probably still stuck in the past, clingin’ to the wrong kind of tunes…”
- Then her voice shifted—quieter, more cautious. She warned him: it might not sound quite right in the common tongue.
- He encouraged her gently.
- “The meaning doesn’t always lie in the words, but in the way they’re spoken. I’m listenin’, Parwyn.”
- She sang.
"Through tangled roots and silver glades I roam
The forest whispers secrets of my home
Your laughter, human, haunts the willow's sigh
A fleeting warmth beneath a starless sky
The moons, they watch, their lanterns cold and pale
I beg their light to pierce my tattered veil"
“The oak remembers how we wandered till dawn
His clumsy steps on moss, stumbling like a fawn
But now the leaves are sharp, they cut, they scorn
Each step I take unravels more of time, I am forlorn
I scream his name—is it his? Certainty, a saboteur
The wind just howls, my thoughts a jagged blur.”
"Oh, moons above, you saw his mortal flame
His fleeting touch, his voice, his whispered name
Unweave the fog that binds my fading mind
I m slipping, clawing, feral in my grief
A shadow of the sylvan beneath the leaf"
"The vines, they pull, they braid into my hair
The earth demands I stay, but he's not there
His eyes were they of hazel, blue, or gold?
The memory frays, my heart grows sharp and cold
I tear the bark, I rend the river's flow
A beast am I, where once a lover glowed"
"Oh, moons above, you saw his mortal flame
His fleeting touch, his voice, his whispered name
Unweave the fog that binds my fading mind
I m slipping, clawing, feral in my grief
A shadow of the sylvan beneath the leaf"
"The moons stay silent, mocking from their throne
My mind unravels, flesh returns to stone
His name is gone, a growl within my throat
The forest claims its wild, untamed devotee
I am the night, the thorn, the feral cry
A sylvan no more beneath the moons, I die"
- The garden seemed to hold its breath, enchanted and still, as she gave voice to the sorrow nestled deep within her heart — until, at last, the final aching note slipped into silence.
- Eladarmi closed his eyes, the ache of her lament settling deep into his bones like an old wound that hadn’t yet finished aching.
- When he spoke, it was quiet. Steady.
- “A melody full of sorrow… and regret. Your words echo like the wind in the branches.”
- He didn’t press her to explain. He simply stood beside her, silent, unmoving, as if shielding her from the weight of the world for just a moment longer.
- And so it was—on a marble dais under fey-lit sky—that a storm met a song, and two wandering souls shared truths spoken in jest, sorrow, and verse.
- No vows were exchanged. No battles fought. Only the kind of meeting that echoes—softly, quietly—long after the moment has passed.
- Though their meeting was brief, the connection forged in that marble garden lingered.
- No tales of battle were shared. No prophecy fulfilled. But in a quiet moment, a storm met a song.
- And before parting ways, Eladarmi made a quiet vow—spoken low like thunder rolling over distant hills:
- “When the forest forgets, I’ll remember your song.”
-“When Storm Meets Flames”
- A Vignette of Eladarmi Storvald meeting Admiral Peggyanne Freeling & Lord Falvicar in Moonsedge
- 20th day of Koaratos, 5125
- Moonsedge Library stood quiet beneath a pale evening sky.
- Frost clung to its carved archways, and snow whispered between cobblestones like a prayer waiting for an answer.
- Within that hush, a figure of living flame approached—Admiral Peggyanne Freeling, Holy Crusader of Lorminstra,
- her white eonake plate radiant in the fading light, golden roses etched across shield and surcoat.
- The ghostly silhouette of a melancholy poet drifted faintly behind her. A gear-crested macaw sat upon her shoulder, silent and watchful.
- She was a holy crusader wrapped in steel and fire, carrying both duty and sorrow. A sailor. A warrior. A poet’s ghost on her shoulders.
- Eladarmi felt a kinship rise unbidden—not just from shared Giantkin blood, but in the way they both carried something ancient, heavy, and still somehow unbroken.
- "Grot’karesh?" Peggyanne asked, pausing in her approach.
- Eladarmi turned with a solemn nod, frost-blue eyes meeting hers.
- "Aye," he said simply. "Voln saved me. The Clan gave me a name I could live up to."
- Peggyanne nodded.
- "We carry the weight well, brother."
- From his shoulder, Asrai buzzed to life, spinning a slow, exaggerated circle midair.
- "Great. It’s time for tragic origin stories. Should I play tiny violin or light something on fire for dramatic effect?"
- Peggyanne smiled faintly.
- "Asrai... the sprite. I get it now."
- Eladarmi offered a slow nod.
- "She’s loud. But loyal."
- "Assertive," Asrai corrected proudly, landing on the curve of his shield like it was her personal balcony.
- Peggyanne starts, "A close friend of mine has a companion of the same ilk,"
- Peggyanne added. "Feisty little thing. Bites me anytime I get close."
- Asrai gasped.
- "Bites?! Bold. I respect that. Honestly, I’m inspired."
- She leans forward, smirking.
- "Also, if your friend's sprite doesn’t like you, it probably means you're hiding something juicy."
- Eladarmi raises a brow at that, then returns his gaze to Peggyanne, bemused.
- "You know how it is—spirits like that don’t care much for social graces. They just skip to judgment and bite accordingly."
- A pause. Then he says dryly:
- "Which is to say... you must’ve really made an impression."
- Asrai grins even wider.
- "She’s probably just jealous of your shoes." he whispers.
- Peggyanne catches Asrai obsessing over her her pristine sabatons. "Careful, she stolen a pair or two in the past", warns Eladarmi.
- "They wouldn’t fit you, little one." Peggyanne states matter-of-factly.
- Asrai gasps—loudly—and flutters up into the air with theatrical offense, placing both tiny hands on her hips as arcs of plasma crackle around her.
- "Excuse me?! I'm not jealous! These are limited edition sprite soles!"; she twirls mideye, eyeing her own glowing feet.
- "Custom-formed from lightning, attitude, and a complete lack of impulse control!"
- "I could turn your boots into a beachfront villa and rent out the toe space!"
- Eladarmi chuckled deeply and states,
- "She once declared a pair of dwarven slippers a sovereign territory. Nearly started a war."
- And what about the smell little one? Pegganne quirps.
- Eladarmi watches the exchange with a bemused shake of his head, crossing his arms.
- "Careful, Peggyanne. Tell her she’s small and she’ll try to annex your boots and call 'em beachfront property."
- They both laugh whole-heartedly as Asrai snaps her fingers and says, "Ooh! 'Asrai’s Villa & Vacation Toe-Lounge.' Has a nice ring to it."
- She winks.
- "I’ll send you the brochure."
- As they laughed, a presence approached from the library steps—Lord Falvicar Jalcon, his calm demeanor sheathed in practiced steel.
- At his side hung the Somnis Katana, a masterwork of black steel and midnight promise.
- Eladarmi nodded respectfully toward him.
- "A blade of dreams. You carry it like someone who’s had to wake too many times."
- Falvicar offered a rare smile, nodding once.
- Peggyanne turned, revealing more of her pavis—its polished white surface crowned by a golden rose, brilliant against the encroaching night.
- Eladarmi blinked at its craftsmanship.
- "That rose... it sings of devotion and defiance. Just like its bearer."
- "It sees battle often," she said, simply.
- They exchanged the quiet reverence of warriors, sharing stories of armaments, divine purpose, and the toll of survival.
- Between Falvicar’s serene presence, Peggyanne’s fire, and Eladarmi’s frost, it felt for a moment like the three formed a circle of past, present, and storm.
- Peggyanne’s eyes met his. No pretense. No pomp. Just purpose.
- "Why don't you join my warband Storvald", she said, voice low and even. "There's undead in the castle beyond. Lorminstra guides my spear—but she doesn't mind when others swing for justice, too."
- Eladarmi agrees and readys his equipment with haste, before they party pushes deep into the castle grounds.
- Time rolls by, and the warband dispatches wave after wave of undead with zeal.
- As the last of the vampires crumbled to ash beneath their blades, the blood-stained air was pierced only by the fading echo of holy chants and Asrai’s breathless laughter.
- Peggyanne’s spear still glowed with divine fire, planted firmly in the earth like a standard of victory.
- Eladarmi stepped forward, his shield nicked and scorched, armor marred—but upright and whole. He looked to Peggyanne, his voice low but steady.
- "You called me Grot’karesh back at the library," he said. "But I wasn’t born to that clan. My blood runs colder—deeper. I'm from Sardin. Or... I was."
- The firelight danced across his face, and for once, he didn’t hide the weight in his eyes.
- But then, softer now, Eladarmi spoke words he rarely did.
- "Before Charl drowned it that is. Isles of storm-kin, of carved cliffs and thunder that sang in runes. Now... just memory. And myth."
- Peggyanne frowned gently.
- "I’ve not heard of Sardin before."
- Eladarmi nodded slowly.
- "Most haven’t. It slipped beneath the sea with its name half-spoken. I carry what little remains."
- Asrai hovered quietly, for once subdued.
- "He doesn’t talk about it much. I think... he's afraid it's not real anymore."
- Peggyanne met his gaze squarely.
- "Then we’ll sail."
- Eladarmi blinked, stunned.
- "You’d brave the fjord... for a name you've never heard?"
- Asrai flew in wide loops above Peggyanne’s head, spinning like a disbelieving firecracker.
- "Wait, wait, wait—she’s serious?! You want to sail into freezing, shark-infested, storm-tossed deathwaters for a soggy myth and a sad poem?!"
- Peggyanne gave no smirk. Only a nod.
- "You remembered it. That makes it real enough for me, let it be found… or mourned properly."
- Eladarmi looked between them—his storm, their flame, and a silence filled with belief.
- "Few have ever spoken the name Sardin and meant it. Fewer still have offered to go seeking."
- Asrai crossed her arms midair.
- "Alright... but if we find waterlogged ancestors with thunder magic, I’m retiring."
- Eladarmi grinned faintly.
- "We’ll bring you a souvenir."
- And so, beneath the shadow of the library and the weight of unspoken oaths, a promise was forged—not of conquest, but of remembrance.
- The storm had a direction again. And its name... was Sardin.