NationStates Jolt Archive

Dawn rose over the earth as it always had since so far as any people remembers. The dawn kissed all the world alike, from the gleaming technological edifices of the most advanced nations to the pristine fields and forests of the more remote wilderness. It was a sight of beauty wherever it shown, but in most of the world, it was the dawn of just another day. But on one island, somewhere in the Pacific, it was the dawn of a new age. It was a small island, with only a few million inhabitants, hardly worthy of note to the great powers of the world. But it was an island with a long memory, with many hidden places and ancient glades. The memory of an age before history, before the breaking of the world, was still nestled in the hidden fairy races who dwelt amongst the mortals of the isle, hidden behind inpenetrable human shells. These people, the stoic trolls, the vicious redcaps, the mischievous pooka, and many others, remembered a time when the waking world and the world of dream were one and the same, when fantasy and wonder knew no limits. They also remembered the sidhe.

Long ago, before the world was broken, the fae had been ruled absolutely and without question by the noble sidhe. This elvish race, beautiful, regal, and magnificient, was also petty, haughty, and cruel. While the ancient memories of some commoners, memories retained from lives lived long ago, fostered a nostalgic view of days when just and righteous lords and ladies ruled with fairness to equal their power and authority, just as many of the common kith remember cruel tyrants better forgotten. Whatever the sidhe were, they had been turning up in dreams and visions for some months past. Many of seer or bard had had their mind seered with images of elvish visages, or sceptres and thrones, or needle thin blade and shining armor, or resplendent knights mounted upon pegasi and unicorns. And when the commoners woke up this morning, the memory stirred in all of their hearts. Something was going to happen today. Some readied gifts of obeisance and fealty. Others sharpened blades. All eyes turned to the sky as a blazing comet, visible in broad day ligh, seared the heavens with flame.

Throughout the day, the world of dreams grew stronger. A great wyrm was seen swooping through the air above the glimmering cityscape. Whiffs of sweet floral scents were caught on the air when no flowers were nearby. And then it happened. A thousand trumpets were heard, purer and more full of pomp than any ever heard before. And then they were there. Tall, elegant men and women with pointed ears in gleaming armor appeared as if from nowhere, shining with a beauty not of this world and looking to all about them wuth a cold look as though mortal men and women and even the more common fae were nothing and less than nothing. For that moment, all could see them. Videos and reports blared throughout the land, broadcasting throughout the world. And then they were gone from human site, hidden behind mortal bodies from the cold touch of human disbelief and visible only to other children of fantasy, and to the saints, the dreamers, and the enchanted among the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve.

((OOC: This is basically my nation's introductory rp. I've made a few posts before but this is the thread of how my nation got to be what it is. Anyone whose interested can feel free to join and feel free to ask for some kind of specialized hook if you want in but can't think of an ic reason to get involved.))

Lady Elring stood on the beach. She was still much more attuned to her true form than the plain visage she knew the humans swarming about her saw. She shivered once. The cold of the world was hard to understand. It had been a place much richer in hope and dreams when she had last been on earth. To eyes that could see it, her elegant gown of silver and crimson flowed like an ethetial cloud around her refined and elegant figure. Elring's thought was on only one thing, the future of her people. They could not simply rule absolutely and openly as they once had. Elring did not even want to. She felt an almost maternal pride that the humans and common born fae had learned something of how to govern themselves. But they were still nobles, not simple citizens. But to mortal eyes they were as any other. No, Elwing did not know what the future held. Her eyes remained fixed on the horizon. There were tales of people who had known the sidhe in pre-history, of ancient elves and dwarves and gnomes, of mages transcending death and celestial beings of great power and beauty. Perhaps some ancient ally had noticed the return of the sidhe. Elwing shook her head at the vain hope and began to turn away.

Eowaraldor stared in wonder at the device before him. The memories of the human form he now inhabited told him it was called a radio and his sidhe mind was bent on uncovering how the device worked. Eventually, of course, he would have to take it apart but not just yet. He would wait until there were again proper noble holdings on earth and a proper workshop. A whistful sigh escaped his lips as he briefly scanned the dingy basement where this mortal man in whose body he found himself had done most of his mechanical and electronic work. He turned the nod slowly. At first, there was a crackling sound. Static. The word came unbidden from some human memory. And then there was blaring noise. No, not noise, music, of a kind unfamiliar to his day. Eowaraldor shifted from station to station, searching for some sign of the ancient wonders that had once dwelt in the world alongside the sidhe. Another sigh. The news was of war and impending war. It was of disease and famine. The world had become a harsh place indeed.

Lady Sonia stepped through the pool of glimmering light into the world of the dreaming. The lady knight, clad in her glimmering armor of obsidian dragon hide, stared over the lightly shining silver path that stretched through the depths of the dreaming into parts unknown. She let out a slightly whistful sigh. She could barely remember what lay down this path. A faint air of nostalgia clung to the surrounding dreamscape, as though she had been here before. The noblewoman shrugged. Taking in a deep breath, she set off down the path, keeping her peripheral vision on the thick, dark woods to either side of the silver road. One delicate yet strong hand drifted to the sword she wore at her hip. The sword and armor she had forged herself, in a land of dreams far away. Her trust in them was absolute. Sonia's eyes shifted to a roar in the distance and a faint frown marred her near perfect features. After a light sigh, she set off down the road again, staying alert for whatever had made that horrific noise.

*First and only bump, then I retract for lack of interest*

<ooc> Keep writing... even if people dont post it doesnt mean they're not interested. :P, wish i could write RP stuff like that </ooc>

ƒR×Kaos Kestrel

((Thanks. And I'll take your advice.))

Lady Elwing sung as she walked. She sung in many languages, attracting the confused if admiring gazes of the human men, flexing their bulging muscles as they sought to attract female attention. Elwing sang first in the ancient tongue of the sidhe, known to few others. Then her voice took song in Quenya and then Sindarin, languages of her allies of old. Gaelic, Latin, Nordic, and several others. Leaning against a large rock, she sighed heavily. Perhaps her people were alone in the world. Perhaps the other races from the age of legend were gone forever. Idly, she slid her chimerical sword from its sheath and began to trice the blazon of her house in the sand, the crest of House Fiona. Elwing idly looked down at the crude lion, wondering if it would ever again be displayed with the grandeur it was once given. When she looked up, she saw a sight that would have been terrifying if she were not a fearless lady of the lion. Too redcaps, with gaping maws, clenched bloody gauntleted fists and moved closer, a snarl escaping their sharp mouths.