- You wander eastward, nearer to the sea, where a cluster of peaks rise up toward the heavens. Here, the mountains are darker than those to the North. They're populated by more trees and as a result dense with their foliage, sporting far less snow and wielding a new sense of mystery for those who dare explore it.
It is dark and cold this early morning in Kells.
When at last your tired eyes lift up from your own footfalls, you stand in a sea of purple flowers. They sag on their stems as if in a state of deep slumber, droves of them swaying in the wind. There is a subtle, lingering sweetness in the air that mingles with the markings of travelers come before you. The meadow stretches out far into the darkness... farther than your own eyes can perceive, and within it all are thin tree’s whose canopies block out the sky almost entirely. If not for the dawning of a new day, you would be kept in a strangely eerie darkness…
But light comes quickly. It peeks over the shoulders of Northern giants, casting its rays through the sentries and onto the flowers themselves; creating a plethora of tall shadows all around you. The stasis in which the area kept itself in subsides. Like the thawing of an invisible frost. You see now that the flowers are bells, stems stiffening in the light but their heads never blooming. And when you brush against them they quiver, releasing their lilac pollen in response to the touch. The richness of their color, which was unfathomable prior to daybreak, cast dancing reflections of purple on the pale barks of every tree, as if the wood was reflective like that of water. And the smell… once subtle… becomes intoxicating. You are mesmerized by the sight. It is enchanting. And all at once you being to feel very wary.
In the distance a wolf approaches you. If not for the glistening coat, so pristine that it nearly glowed in the dim-light, you would have overlooked them. Looked beyond them, into the endless waves of purple. As they get closer, your legs gets weaker.
Your travels have been long and hard. Perhaps you are just exhausted from them. A nap. Yes... A nap will help.
The strangers eyes are that of piercing blues and when the gap is closed you realize that they are not alone. The eyes of many are upon you now. Glowing brightly... but perhaps they're only fireflies, buzzing about just before the day begins…You are so tired. Sleep. Be still. Sleep. You feel the weight of your eyelids as they heavily blink once... twice... thrice over... And before you are altogether swept up in the embrace of slumber you hear a muffled voice cut through the deafening silence. It is speaking to you, but also to so many others.
“And who are you?”
. . .
Welcome to The Murkwood Court.
In joining the pack, you swear your loyalty to the elves. In their current state, things seems sparse and rigid, and for all the right reasons. But, what you see is but a sliver the culture, and what it truly has to offer; when the tidings are in their favor. Parties and lounging, lavishness galore, these are all customary traditions in which, someday, you may partake in. If you're lucky. And of course, if The Court survives.
The Elven lineage is brimming with elegance. They tend to be taller, lithe and lean, with limbs that look liable to snap if they're not careful. Their features are sharp, long, and almost as if from another world altogether. But rest assured, they are entirely mortal. And less regal biologically than they claim, what with the old blood being recycled many times over through in-breeding. As it stands, they have lost most of what made them. The royal family has all but been decimated and although they would never wish to admit it...
They could really use some help. They need you.
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OOC Owner: Shia bean
Big thanks to Kasai and Ars for their input heart
Big thanks to Kasai and Ars for their input heart
