NationStates Jolt Archive

Atassar began to breathe again. Aliria was pleased.
His eyes; grey like winter’s clouds, fusioned silver for a moment as he looked up; light from the crystal skies of the Craftworld reflected against the iris.
“It is another world here my Lady,” he told Aliria. “I have ever lived below the stars, even Tárasarnë that lies high in the Arinoronti Mountains of Silmessë does not find itself completely surrounded by the heavens.” He smiled, lowered his eyes; mirrors now in which Aliria was reflected. “I feel as if I am standing on the airs, no solid earth beneath me to speak of.” He shook his head, smile deepening. “Not unlike your influence my Lady.”

He reached a hand tentatively forward, let it hover over the jewelled Úrarossë and whispered a word.
“Lótë.”
Light rippled across the petals and the flower warmed in Aliria’s palm, scent became another layer to the air round the Princess; an evolution of fragrant notes based in earthy hues and permeating into the floral.
“It cannot be a flower, without its perfume,” Atassar murmured. “Sintelótë.” And the scent slowly faded.
Gently he folded Aliria’s fingers over the silver and sapphire flower, now cool again to the touch.
“If you favour me,” he whispered. “Wear it. If not then let it rest in the room you love best.” His eyes locked with hers. “So you will remember me always and I will have some small place in your heart.”

Silently he added words that were only for her.
Show me something here that pleases you, I would know where your fascinations lie. While I am adrift among the stars, let me at least get know their brightest daughter Aliria.

http://gallery.cybertarp.com/albums/userpics/12052/atassar.jpg
Atassar

Fírë summoned her talent to the fore, healing energies that surged like silvered rays to her eyes; altered reality and revealed the ballroom as a field of stars shimmering in varied hues.
Shalazar was like a bruise now, more shadowed here than even his cloak could achieve in mundane perception. But he was not the only unusual fixture in this starscape; another stood out like a void and Fírë blinked.
Death?

She tried to ignore the inky darkness, it held less form; almost fluid it appeared to her long practised eye.
“Shalazar,” she said, focusing on the figure before her. “I can touch you as I would touch those I heal. It will not take away these scars, nor conceal what science has made of you. But it may give you a glimpse of what I spoke of, for healing flows from Valinor in the legends of the Silmellon.”
She raised her hand, offered it to him. Do his eyes see what glimmers there? She could not help but wonder if on some spectrum her healing abilities ghosted, like moonbeams. If any here can glimpse healing, perhaps eyes that wed flesh and science truly can?

While waiting for a response her eyes flicked towards the void. Death?

http://gallery.cybertarp.com/albums/userpics/12052/fire.jpg
Fírë

He was being observed by one of the Silmessë elves. The one he had taken note of before. She seemed to be observing him with some measure of confusion, not quite fear, but clearly she was not taken in by his appearance.

She clearly did not want to communicate with him at this time, she was busy talking to, and doing something - bizzare - to the cybernetic one. There were several thoughts from her - but only one strong enough to be clear, a simple concept, easily recognised, Death - questioned. He decided that - if she wished to speak with him or not, a communication would be in order. Briefly recalling what he knew about elven minds, which, was helpfully quite a lot, he made an effort to put words into her mind, 'Not Dead, merely, inert.'

There was always a level of hit and miss with such subtle things, altering perceptions was, paradoxically, easier than communications. Had he the time, or certainty, he would have embellished with terms such as "of course not my dear," and such things, but, as it was, brevity had a virtue of its own. Of course what he said was not entirely true, he was not inert, but from a magical perspective, it was the best description.

Aliria was almost enchanted, the soft voice of the Silmellon lord like a spell hypnotizing her senses. The scent of the flower was beautiful, and the features of the Silmellon lord was equally beautiful.

Charming, with no doubt he's charming. I'm sure Kithail would approve him, after all he's fascinated with our old ways, and this noble represents them perfectly, she thought.

So you want me to show you something I like?, she said to Atassar, starting to sing a beautiful song in the ancient Sylvan language. "He'll be here soon, and you'll see what I love most", she said, showing a broad smile to Atassar.

Name: Lord Maglor nos Fëanor

Title: Heir to the Daggerstar Crown of Menelmacar

Country of Origin: Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar

Number of Escorts: 1

Number of Guards: 20

Favourite Food: (OOC: I have no clue. Something elfy, I guess.)

Do you need spacefaring transportation? No.

Any special requests: None.

"It will be a pleasure to have you in the Craftworld, Lord Maglor, as a representative of our closest ally and friend the Sacred Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar and as a possible suitor to the hand of our dearest treasure the Princess Aliria D'Hyru. I'll expect you in the docks personally, send my regards to your mother"

ShadowPrince Kithail Hyral

And so it was that the Menelmacari gravitic frigate Eldahossë Minë carefully nosed into a landing bay aboard Kionash Aelosia. When the ramp lowered, there he was, resplendent in robes of emerald green and sun golden, his sapphire eyes sparkling with the light of the trees, a mithril and gold circlet set in his raven hair. Leading his aide and the twenty Mornahossë that had accompanied him down the ramp, Lord Maglor nos Fëanor set foot for the first time aboard the craftworld of the Aelosians.

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/sirithil/sirithilnosfeanor.gifLady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar
High Queen and Lady-Protector of Elvenkind
"We have known freedom's price. We have shown freedom's power. We will see freedom's victory."
~US President George W. Bush
We Love the Iraqi Information Minister (http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com)
Clicky-clicky!

In the dock, a special welcome party was gathering. Honor guards dressed with bright armors with the blazon of the Hyral House were expecting the arrival of the Menelmacari Prince. As he walked down the ramp, they draw their swords and made a hallway of blades over a delicate red carpet for the Prince to walk under. An elven orchestra started to play the menelmacari anthem as in the back of the dock, three figures emerged.

The ShadowPrince, clad in a golden armor decorated with the old blazons of the Kingdom of Doriath stepped forward, looking at Maglor with awe and sympathy, half a smile present in his lips. Followed by a beautiful mature woman who walked in a regal stance and a mysterious figure covered in a black cloak.

"Greetings, Prince of the Menelmacari. It's a pleasure for me to give you a warm welcome to our humble halls, as an honored guest. The party is already expecting us, and the Princess is ready to show you our hospitality, Prince Maglor", spoke the ShadowPrince in a regal, grave voice, holding his right hand up in the traditional elven salute.

"We just need to use the holotrain to reach the D'Hyru Holdings, I hope you could like our home as our hands crafted it", said the woman at the right of the ShadowPrince, showing Maglor a broad smile...

Maglor returned the salute, with his fist over his heart, and bowed his head ever so slightly, which is about as much of a bow as a Menelmacari is almost ever willing to give. Though, he blushed intensely at the repeated use of the word 'prince'. He had yet to get used to it; it would be some time yet.

"Thank you, great Shadowprince... it's an honor and a pleasure to be here. I apologize for my mother's absence, but she is heavily occupied at the moment, what with the wars..." He glanced around, and gave a smile. "This place... it is incredible. Anyhow, lead the way..."

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/sirithil/sirithilnosfeanor.gifLady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar
High Queen and Lady-Protector of Elvenkind
"We have known freedom's price. We have shown freedom's power. We will see freedom's victory."
~US President George W. Bush
We Love the Iraqi Information Minister (http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com)
Clicky-clicky!

Name: Trebelium, Manus (http://www.imagestation.com/picture/sraid102/pe440fab73b2e8d9180788c3251572743/f9b894eb.jpg)

Title: EnheilRas

Country of Origin: Known only as The Old Kingdom

Number of Escorts: 4

Delgon Trebelium, his PunRas
Ignex Mas, his DanRas
Teel Ikorum (http://www.imagestation.com/picture/sraid102/p93c1bc239d7874f8d1e70d3dd3f3887f/f9b894ee.jpg), GihaelRas
Trabian Riil, High Warlock & Master Tactician

Number of Guards: None

Favourite Food: A medium-well cooked steak of Nimro Giant

Do you need spacefaring transportation? It can be arranged regionally

Any special requests: To be treated equally

The ShadowPrince nodded, leading the way to the holotrain waiting for them. The duchess just smiled at Maglor, bowing low to him in an exquisite courtier movement. The figure dressed in black just bowed his head a little, no more than Maglor did, and said "Finally an educated guest, I could say a lot of things about the Noldor, but they're educated and well mannered at least, and have an impecable taste in the dressing".

After a quick yet interesting ride through the underground train lines of the craftworld, the comitive finally reached the D'Hyru Holdings, Princess' Aliria personal palaces and lands. It was a huge crystal dome near the North pole, covered with a pressurized crystal decorated like an artificial sky, filled with stars and comets.

Half of it was decorated as a deep green grass plain with little cottages and palaces scattered through the inmense savannah, and the other half was filled with lushful forests and glades, resembling the old places where Lúthien, the Princess' ancestor and idol, used to dance and sing for her beloved Beren. Now it was full of banket tables and guests from all the universe, talking idly around the beautiful plains, others dancing the soft elven music played by an orchestra, (Funny, they're playing music composed by Maglor, as far as I know he was a very, very talented minstrel). Almost all the nobles of the Craftworld were gathered there, amongst the invited guests of the rest of the nations.

The guards opened the doors of the holotrain and the ShadowPrince gently guided Maglor through the plains until they reached the party's center. "Finally you arrived, this is where we belong, and this is the place we love, we couldn't save our Kingdom, so we built a new one that resembled our old, I hope you could be comfortable here, the Princess is over there, if you want to talk with her, she's know having a nice chat with the Silmesse delegates", said the ShadowPrince pointing with a slight movement of his chin a little group of elves gathered not so far.

As Ghouur and Sseelaa continue their waltz, the dance takes an interesting turn for them. Sseelaa starts wrapping herself around Ghouur's torso in a snake-like fashion while keeping step, and Ghouur does much the same. Their tails intertwine with each other, and sway lightly. Their tympanum begin vibrating slightly, and let off a low humming sound.

Then they pause, and separate a brief distance from each other; eyelids fluttering furiously. "Oh...ah....hrrrrmmmm....well. How about that. You dance well, Commander."

"As do you, Governor. Uhrrm, we should take a seat, yes?"

"Yes. Let's."

... Now it was full of banket tables and guests from all the universe, talking idly around the beautiful plains, others dancing the soft elven music played by an orchestra, (Funny, they're playing music composed by Maglor, as far as I know he was a very, very talented minstrel). Almost all the nobles of the Craftworld were gathered there, amongst the invited guests of the rest of the nations.
Maglor smiled happily at that, and blushed somewhat; it was a somewhat disconcerting thing to hear his work played still, even after thirty thousand years. Like the title, it was something he was yet to get used to; even in Menelmacar people tended to have a habit of playing his music whenever he was near. He had to admit, it was quite the ego-booster, but this was part of the reason he had yet to get used to it, being rather modest himself.

...I hope you could be comfortable here, the Princess is over there, if you want to talk with her, she's know having a nice chat with the Silmesse delegates", said the ShadowPrince pointing with a slight movement of his chin a little group of elves gathered not so far.
"Thank you kindly, Shadowprince Kithail," Maglor said, with another slight bow of the head, as he rose. "Your craftworld is truly a wonder, indeed you have made a wonderful home for yourselves here. I... will take my leave of you for now, and meet the princess... though I should like to speak with you again later."

~Lord Maglor nos Fëanor
Heir to the Daggerstar Crown
Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar

Quickly the ShadowPrince nodded, smiling at Maglor, pointing at the figure of Aliria again with his chin, her back turning upon them as she wasn't aware of their presence. "I'll left with her, then. A pleasure to meet you, Prince Maglor", said the aelosian ruler quickly dissapearing in the crowd of guests.

The Princess was talking with a silver haired elf, holding a delicate flower made of silver in her hand. She was smiling at the strange elf, and seemed to be having fun in an interesting chat, her eyes like a pair of clear pools of water, the artificial moonlight of the Craftworld reflecting on them.

The C'tan briefly waved in the direction of Maglor, then caught up with the Shadowprince again.

Kopinski turned his attention back to the shadowprince, and focussed all his attention on him, to detect the slightest hint of a lie, "I've been meaning to ask you people, what happened to the eldar who were residents here before you arrived? Why would they give you this place?"

"Now they live in another place, very far from here, separated from us", said the ShadowPrince, after a little moment of silence, his face covered by a shadow, a fiery look in his eyes. (he's not lying)...

Kopinski looked vaguely amused, "And how did you convince them to give this place to you when they - went somewhere else?"

"They left, that's all. We don't know where, but we think that now they're in a more peaceful place, resting. We told them that we needed the Craftworld", said the ShadowPrince, a grim grin appearing in his lips as his eyes glowed red for a second.

"They left, that's all. We don't know where, but we think that now they're in a more peaceful place, resting. We told them that we needed the Craftworld", said the ShadowPrince, a grim grin appearing in his lips as his eyes glowed red for a second.

(OOC: Who dared touch the forums with the finger of hell?)

Fírë blinked; knew that the void in her starscape of life had sensed her questioning thoughts and replied. Vivid mental whispers disguised as shouts.
She’d never known silent words that carried such a chill that rasped and flowed in alien ways. Slowly meaning evolved, as her mind accustomed itself to the peculiarities of the foreign mental touch.
Inert. The word, no more revealing than her own, death.

Though one implied a promise she knew, death was no more an ending than life itself. But to be inert…Is it not worse?
She glanced at the fluid shadow, wondered at its appearance dressed in mundane perception; struggled to recall the various gatherings that had spread throughout the room and failed.
As sound finds no voice in a vacuum, thought has no movement within the inert. She sent her words flowing out, locking on the void and the cold. At least death finds in itself progression and the flow of time...
Curious she resolved to seek out the mysterious figure that was not what he seemed, focused again on Shalazar and wondered if he’d lost his way within the electric caverns of his mind.

“Not even with a tongue gilded seven times in silver,” Atassar replied after a pause, “could I make of those words something sweeter.” He shook his head sadly, eyes veiled. “But if there is one whom you love Aliria, let him stand at your side and bring happiness to your heart.”

He smiled for her; not something that was easily brought up to features that felt now as heavy as stone. “I could not doubt that you had your many admirers highness, but I had hoped that my chances were better than it seems they are.” He gazed on her, eyes like smoke.
Light seemed to recede within his pupils as though something within Atassar were withdrawing. He seemed ready to step away and behind him Olorndil raised curious eyes to study the Lord of Tárasarnë and the future EverQueen of Aelosia.
Give him some hope, the eyes of the Lord of the Silmellon seemed to communicate to Aliria.

http://gallery.cybertarp.com/albums/userpics/12052/atassar.jpg
Atassar

Fírë summoned her talent to the fore, healing energies that surged like silvered rays to her eyes; altered reality and revealed the ballroom as a field of stars shimmering in varied hues.
Shalazar was like a bruise now, more shadowed here than even his cloak could achieve in mundane perception. But he was not the only unusual fixture in this starscape; another stood out like a void and Fírë blinked.
Death?

She tried to ignore the inky darkness, it held less form; almost fluid it appeared to her long practised eye.
“Shalazar,” she said, focusing on the figure before her. “I can touch you as I would touch those I heal. It will not take away these scars, nor conceal what science has made of you. But it may give you a glimpse of what I spoke of, for healing flows from Valinor in the legends of the Silmellon.”
She raised her hand, offered it to him. Do his eyes see what glimmers there? She could not help but wonder if on some spectrum her healing abilities ghosted, like moonbeams. If any here can glimpse healing, perhaps eyes that wed flesh and science truly can?

While waiting for a response her eyes flicked towards the void. Death?

http://gallery.cybertarp.com/albums/userpics/12052/fire.jpg
Fírë

(OOC: wha??? :? )

IC:

Shalzar bowed deeply.

"I do not wish to be healed... For whatever healing is only superficial and physical... What I require is mental healing and something to follow... A creed or religion perhaps... I have not determined which yet."

With his deep-blue haunting right eye, Shalzar gazed into the eyes of Firë.

The C'tan grinned widely, "An interesting riddle," he said, cheerfully, inwardly suspecting his conterpart's words about rest carried a meaning only those wise in the ways of the eldar - those of the non-quendi veriety - would understand, "If I were you, I would make sure that their place of rest is - secure - it's the least you could do for them." He stopped and smiled darkly, "You'd be amazed at how a seemingly small stone can choke a man, but should you be interested, I suspect that I approve of the manner of their departure more than you know," he said, and left the elf to his business.

"As sound finds no voice in a vacuum, thought has no movement within the inert. She sent her words flowing out, locking on the void and the cold. At least death finds in itself progression and the flow of time..."

Perhaps you misunderstand, he replied, I speak only of mundane things such as chemistry in that statement. I have thought, and change over time, as any other such as yourself does. I would be happy to discuss such things with you at some other time perhaps.

"Wait, Atassar. You're misunderstanding my words", said Aliria, daring to touch Atassar's arm. "You're beautiful as the wind and delicate as the touch of the soft wet earth in my bare feet, yet what I love is this...", said Aliria before singing a verse with an enchanting, powerful and ensorcelled voice.

Suddenly a powerful bark answered the call and the huge form of a great hound appeared from a bush nearby. The beautiful and powerful dog approached Aliria and sitted next to her leg, placing her head in a position so the hand of her mistress could stroke his powerful form. "You asked me to show you something I love. This is one of those things, Aëlasse, my personal hound and protector from the same race as the fabled Huan of Valinor. This is one of the things I love, and he brings happiness to my heart, yet I don't think he's a competitor for you, my lord Atassar", said Aliria smiling warmly.

In the other side of the plain, the ShadowPrince was very worried, cold sweat sliding along his back as the Ctan words disturbed the deep place in his mind where he guarded the memory of the massacre of the eldar. This being is...creepy and scary, just as Telgonthrind said they were, he said to himself, closing his eyes...

"They actually ok'd it?" Riga, head of the Juggernauts, the mad crusaders of Lopnel and closest thing the Clans had to "SpecOps", said to Manus upon hearing that Aelosia would allow their presence undefied within their party.

"It seems so Riga. That means you are in charge while I am gone," the EnheilRas spoke. "You and Dorin of course."

Riga nodded. Dorin was an unbeliever and Riga suspected that the 'Darkweaver' had his own plots behind the Warmaster's back. "Of course, EnheilRas. So I am to assume Ignex, Delgon, and Teel are joining you then?"

"I will be taking Trabian as well. If things go awry, Trabian will be able to get us out of trouble," Manus told the Paladin of Lopnel. "Is the Dark Circle prepared?"

Arana, Manus' sole concubine nodded. Her title was, 'the Deadly Kiss,' and she was the only woman present in many of the meetings of the High Fist. The slim and sexy female High Orc sauntered over to kiss the strong-willed leader of the clans. "I've arranged for the Dorns to take you to the hills where the clan has assembled the Greater Circle of Teleportation. It will be an amazing thing to see the world as no Orc has before, my Lord."

Ignex Max, an aged Orc in his upper 50's, stepped into the Hall of the High Fist with Manus' son Delgon. Trabian and Teel arrived soon after. The five hopped on their dorns, and rode out to the Hills of Arda. Arda was the land of the Orcs, and Manus had taken it upon himself to ensure that it's protection and defence was his task to take. Wherever the clans ruled, the land become better for agriculture and more fertile, the creatures from other nations flocked under the rule of the clans, and were made happier by it. The High Orcs were in no position to ever deny any lesser demihuman to join his forces. Elves, humans, and dwarves and the like however, seemed more inclined to be with their own kind than to be ruled by an Orc. This, Manus believed, was their problem, and not his, for his benevolence had spread throughout the region as being extremely lenient, as far as Ardan rulers go.

Out of Orca they rode off on their Dorns, heading toward the Mountains miles away to the Dark Circle, a place of legend and ritual that acted like an outlet into the rich vein of magic inside Arda. They passed through the Halls of the Blazing Hammer, and through the Dorn Forest, and around the Cave of the Flaming Pit. These were all lands dominated by the Clans, each of the 13 carried their respectful regions within the land. A Shrine to the Red God Lopnel lay constructed by the Dark Circle, and many of the Beserkers of the Juggarnauts had been patrolling the area to secure it for Trebelium's departure.

Dorin the Darkweaver, master of the Dark Circle, was there to meet Manus and his coterie. The High Orc was dressed in dark blue robes with elaborate designs and mystical symbols. The Wizard slid his hand through his jet black hair. "We are ready, EnheilRas."

A Large Circle had been drawn 50 feet in diamater. A smaller circle 40 feet lay inside it. Between the circles were crafted sigils and glyphs of magic. Several lines ran through the smaller circle to connect with the deepest one just 10 feet across. This was the Ritual Grounds, the hallowed earth that would drain the energy to create the miracle. Manus, Teel, Delgon, Ignex, and Trabian stepped inside, and Dorin began his chant. Half of it was in Archaic Elvish, used at the time before the fall of the Second Age, after both the Elven Kingdoms and Dwarf Kingdoms lay in ruin from their Age-Long Struggle. The other half, spoken in Orcish, a language now non-existant except when kept by those within the Clans. As the incantation fed itself, the drawings and glyphs became allive and animated, filled with an ethereal blue light.

Likewise, in the docking station of Craftworld, the same symbols and circles manifested themselves in the coordinates given to Dorin. As the magical forces of the Wizard began to distort reality and mend the two areas of one in a single fold of time-space, the coterie of High Orcs faded from one area to the other as bright columns of blue light began to shoot down from the Sky in Arda and up from the platforms in Craftworld. Suddenly, a full column of magical energy enveleoped both circles, and in an instance, all was black and darkness for the Orcs. When their eyes adjusted, they were in Craftworld, the home of the Aelosian Elves. They were amazed. . .

Delgon looked behind him and spoke softly, "Father..look..."

They turned around...It was Earth. It was so beautiful, it left them all speechless. They were the first Orcs to see space and be of their own power, without the aid of man's technologies or the Elves magic.

A little squad of guards, armed to the teeth with big fusion rifles and shuriken pistols approached the orcs, just standing nearby looking amazed at the sudden arrival of the guests. At a command they formed a line, holding their weapons high.

A mature elven woman approached the orcs, dressed in a beautiful and delicate celestial blue drees with inlaid diamonds, her blonde hair like a waterfall of gold resting on the cleans waters of a lake. She spoke in a soft tone as a golden clad military officer stood at her right:

"Be welcomed, our honored guests, that our racial differences won't be a obstacle today for the sharing of joy and happiness between us. I'm Duchess Celestrianna Paelisi, head of the aelosians courtiers, and Head of the Paelisi Noble House", she said smiling warmly to the High Orcs.

When the Guards approached, Delgon felt a cold feeling behind him. Turning around, his immediate warrior reaction told him of an ambush. What better way to strike a blow to Arda than assassinating the chief council of one of their most charismatic Orc leaderships? Teel Ikorum turned as the PunRas did, (I made a linguistic mistake, his title is not GihaelRas, but EnheilChum). The 8'6" Orc pressed on his mithril gauntlets, where a blue gem was inset upon his wrist. In an instant action, long, thin 4 foot blades emerged from the gem and two axe-like buckler fins surrounded it. The Orcish Knight spread his self among the four, waiting to do battle with the armed elven guards and die for the EnheilRas.

As the Duchess spoke, Manus put his hand fondly on the shoulder of Teel, who lessened his stance, and retracted his Skells. He would seem embarrassed, Teel would, had his dark green skin the ability to turn crimson with the flood of emotion.

Manus stepped forward, "A pleasure my dear," The eight foot Orc spoke succinctly. Manus appeared much more noble than the others. He wore a finely made splint mail of unknown design (crafted by the High Orcish Smiths in the Halls of the Blazing Hammer), made in ancient Mithril constructed to fit perfectly over his body, bearing the symbol of a clenched fist embossed over a red sun. A thick belt wrapped around his waist, which two stainless metal gauntlets hung on his sides. A beautiful golden ring was wrapped around his left middle ringer, and his boots seemed to be constructed of the finest leather. Detectors of magic would go crazy if they scanned the Orc. He seemed to exude a majectic aura that would make it immediately clear of his potency to be a natural and true-born leader (A passive supernatural ability that the EnheilRas receives; Acts sort of like the "Majesty" discipline for those familiar with Vampire: The Masqeruade). His long tassled hair had black streaks through it, and his piercing brown eyes were in no way beady under his harsh-looking brow.

Trabian Riil was dressed quite differently than the others. Smaller at 7 foot even, Trabian dressed in a fine silk robe, with a woolly alazarin cloak tied around it. Yellow trimmings accented the deep colors, and several symbols and glyphs of fire were decorated on his robes and upon a necklace and ring he wore. A thickly bound tome was clutched tightly to his form with his left hand, and his natural orange hair was tighed back behind his shoulders.

Teel Ikorum was obviously the most militant. He was covered in full plate mithril, and brandished his Skells openly. His armor carried the same Clan Insigna as Manus', and was evident on his breastplate and shoulder plates. He was the tallest and the most muscle-bound in the Orcish Coterie. No jewelry was on his form, or it wasn't able to be seen. Armor-Plated Battle Boots would clang audibly at each step of the Craftworld. The Knight would not be an easy thing to hide.

Ignex was the oldest, and obviously beyond his warrior years. The many lines of his face would tell of countless wars and battle experiences the Elder High Orc had been through. Ignex wore soft materials of silk and leather, with a light cloak with several different clan markings, including Manus' own marking, a Golden Crown with sharpened points, an Orcish Skull covered in fire, a symbol of a Mauling Bear, and a picture of a rather ugly looking horse/wolf combination (Not a Warg, but a Dorn). He carried no other items but his clothes on his back, and his voice shuddered with his crippling death, the only true event ahead of him.

Delgon Trebelium was dressed in a combination of his Fathers: Manus & Teel. A suit of ringmail with large shoulder plates were slung over his tough body. Leather straps crossed his waist and body in an X-fashion. He wore his Skells like Teel, but had no intention of using them. Boots of chain link rattled with every step. His hair had blue and black streaks and highlights of equal concentration than his natural orange. It made for an odd appearance when compared to the others.

The High Orcs appeared very similiar to normal Orcs, or what they perceived as normal Orcs. They were taller than normal, with fair skin and smooth, attractive features. They all had hooked noses that pointed downward with proud, pronounced jowls. An outstanding trait would be their ears, which were very long andpointed straight up along the sides of their heads. This would point to some genetic link to the Elves of their world.

"I am the EnheilRas," Manus spoke. "Are we that expected? These our my colleagues: the EnheilChum," towards Teel, "the DanRas," towards Ignex, "the PunRas," towards Delgon, "and my tactical advisor Trabian." Teel seemed to get a grin in the fact that the Warlock had no official title. "Please, show us to the event. Let us speak, for I am quite curious of the Aeons we have been gone."

Dorin scratched his head back at the Dark Circle. He had hoped it worked. It seemed to from this end anyway. Several of the Orcish Paladins from the nearby Shrine to Lopnel rode out on their Dorns to check up on the ritual.

"Are they in the Heavens now?"

Dorin looked up, "I can't be completely certain. We must only assume so."

"How will they return wizard?"

"I'm sure Manus can arrange something with the elves," Dorin answered. "The only other possibility is that I take an elite cadre of Dark Circle clansmen and go there ourselves."

The Paladin dropped down, "You better be certain Wizard..." His skell elongated slowly, the metal scraping along the ground. "You better be certain..."

"No, I expected to see ravaging beasts, yet you don't seem like one. You look like something...else", said the Duchess, and as she moved her hand the guards backed up a pair of steps, yet the officer covered in a golden armor placed his hand on the hilt of his wraithbone sword, looking at the strange blades in Teel's gauntlets.

"Please follow me, the Holotrain is already waiting for you, and please tell your knight to sheath his weapons, here he won't need it", said the Duchess i a calmed voice, her words flowing like a river impulsed by the speech emotional magic of the Aelosian courtiers.

Damn Forums!

Manus nodded at Teel, whom bent in his elbows. The Skells retracted into the guantlets and the bucklet fins folded into the gem. The Knight stood up, resting his muscles as the adrenaline flushed itself out of his system. Upon the EnheilRas' first step, the others followed. This was not done for order, but out of respect. Manus had demanded nothing else but that from the Clans, and as their savior, they gave it to him in bounds.

Delgon whispered over to Teel, "I think one of those Elves took a fancy glance at your Skells, my Lord." Delgon was a respectible fighter, but his keen vision and unique abilities, kept very secret from the world, made him stand out to those whom kept their eyes on him. Otherwise, he was in the position for next of EnheilRas when Manus would one day pass on to the Clan of Jagged Crowns, leaving the High Fist to Delgon.

Teel Ikorum muttered, grinning, "The day an Elf, or any other race for that matter, figures out the Skell is the day the Old Ones awake and usher in a Reign of Entropy." He had a soft chuckle, his gauntlets tightening as he clenched his fists.

"What's a Holotrain?" Trabian inquired. He'd never heard of either term before. The Secret Modernization and weapon & armor contracts that Teel was taking care of weren't exactly to the High Warlock's interest. He stood behind the Clans of the Dark Circle and Golden Sky to keep to their roots of magic, but the Knight had gotten Manus' word to begin the modernization. Even for the methods, Trabian felt that it was going a bit too fast. He felt like it was being pushed on the Clans, without giving them the chance to evolve into the technologies themselves.

"There will be many things that we will not understand Trabian," Ignex answered. "The best method right now is to act in a dreamstate. Nothing you will see here will be realized for our people without much time in learning and understanding. Act as if it isn't real, and you will be much more comfortable within it. We will one day make this dreamstate a reality for our Clans."

The EnheilRas nodded to Ignex's wise words. "Let us be inspired to inform the Blazing Hammer on what we have seen. There are so many things in this universe we have been opened to. The world of Palladium is gone, my brothers. This is indeed a new realm of wonder." Manus would need to work on liberating Orcs around the world first, then move to pursue the ChumRas Orka. It was his destiny, after all, and the destiny of all whom would hold the title of EnheilRas. This was just a means to a method of garnishing the ability of a fair fight.

Each had their own motives, and each proceeded to act quite cordially, following the elf to their own machinations, filled with the magic of technology, but ignoring the magic of the world set so far below them.

Maglor looked around... ahh, there she was... the object of his coming, and she was even more beautiful than he had thought. Gathering his courage, he strode boldly over.

"Princess Aliria," he said softly, but confidently, bowing his head slightly. "The light of the stars is brighter now for our having met, and the meeting is the greatest of pleasures."

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/sirithil/sirithilnosfeanor.gifLady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar
High Queen and Lady-Protector of Elvenkind
"We have known freedom's price. We have shown freedom's power. We will see freedom's victory."
~US President George W. Bush
We Love the Iraqi Information Minister (http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com)
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Aliria turned back, and saw the face of Maglor, his radiant features gleaming with the artificial light of the stars of the dome, his voice as soft as the gentle touch of the finest velvet.

For the normal people, he seemed to be a strikingly handsome elf, yet nothing more. But Aliria was blessed, or cursed, with the ability of seeing more than the images that her eyes were capable to see. She saw Maglor entirely as he was, a being of light with the flame of the Valinor's trees still inside his soul, she saw the long walk that the still young looking elf traveled in the past. The happiness, the sadness, the talent hidden in his voice and in his hands. Her gaze was lost in the infinity of wisdom that the son of Fëanor held inside his pupils...

She saw the first light of the trees, and saw the Valar gathering with the first elves. She saw the beauty of the blessed lands, the intensity of the first colors when for the first time the sun and the moon raced through the skies. She saw the skilled hands of Fëanor, Maglor's father, crafting gems of light with divine glow. She saw the first, long darkness, and heard the harsh words of the Finwë's eldest son to the gods of Valinor. She heard the sound of a fierce battle, and saw blood painting red the white sands of the harbor of Alqualondë. She saw the swan ships leaving port, their translucent sails reflecting the light of the missing stars.

She saw the Middle Earth when it was young, she saw the glimmering glades of the ancient Beleriand, and the building of the great elven kingdoms of old and forgotten times. Doriath, Nargonthrond, Hithlum, the greatest citadels of elvenkind. Then she saw war, she saw the countless orc hordes, she saw Balrogs spitting fire against the shining host of the elves. She saw pain, she saw suffering, she saw hatred, envy and fear. She saw the darkness of the Northern throne spreading through the rich and beautiful land, engulfing the elven kingdoms one by one. She saw the battlefield of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad as Maglor once saw it, the great mound of elven bodies cvering the plain. She saw the sack of Doriath and the raid on the Falas by the sons of Fëanor, driven by their awful oath and curse. She saw the tears in elven eyes as elven swords sank in elven bodies, spilling elven blood. She saw the Ëarendil's ship in the sky, the first elf to reach the stars. She saw the host of Valinor coming from beyond the sea, finally getting revenge against Morgoth the Dark Enemy.

Then she the long sea of the Beleriand coast, and a white gem, bright as the sun, falling into the quiet waters of the never ending sea. She saw repent, she saw shame inside Maglor's heart, she saw pain and sorrow. Then she saw the high towers of Vinyatírion, and the reunion of mother and son again as they started to build the star empire of Menelmacar piece by piece, spreading the power and the grace of the Noldor through the universe as a tide of glory.

Then she came back from her visions, watching the handsome elf with surprise. "Pr...Prince Maglor, you came to my humble lands, indeed the stars smile as we talk and time slowed its course a little when we finally meet" she said, realizing that she didn't bow to Maglor. Then she bowed to him, making an elaborate courtier movement extending the long skirt of her dress and smiling. "It's the greatest of honors to have you here in our halls, I was expecting you for a long time ago", she continued, using her most delicate and melodious voice.

http://nwvault.ign.com/Files/transfer/pictures/PORTRAIT_Ashlander27Raynalg.jpg
Princess Aliria D'Hyru

The Duchess showed the High orcs the way to the Holotrain, an imposing figure made exclusively of Wraithbone, the fabled material of eldar technology. It was floating in a tunnel, thanks to the impulse of a gravitic engine as the eldar vehicles usually do. The great train was painted white, and looked like a huge, never ending bone protuding from the tunnel. After pushing a button that opened the door the Duchess smiled and showed the orcs the way inside the luxury wagon, a very expensive wagon that looked like a royal suite on the inside.

"Please, our glorious guests, take your seats and prepare yourselves for the ride of your lives", said the Duchess flanked by a pair of fire Dragon Guards holding their flamethrowers high, clad in the full body armor of eldar design.

Trabian seemed to snort at the sight of the dragons and their devices of flame. Though, through Manus' orders was Trabian relocated from the Clan of the Golden Sky to the Clan of the High Fist, Trabian was still quite the talented Warlock. Fire was his calling, and he controled the Element fluently. Trabian, however, lacked battle experience from always being cooped up in the battle barracks. His mind was put to better use in tactics, a true calling for him, as Trabian was utterly brilliant in engineering flank maneuvers and the pattern of siege weaponry and front-line (Trabian is equivocal to the United States' Robert E. Lee in terms of Military Innovation). His Elemental Brother had become as bored of inactivity as he had, so the two shared a special bond. The last moment, Riil recalled, that the Elemental was released was in the bouts of an assassination attempt where the High Fist Council was invited to a human nation, but upon seeing them, sent in several humans armed with firearm machinery. Spirits of Light clashed against the EnheilRas as Trabian worked up a makeshift summoning Ritual. It luckily took off, and his Elemental burnt down the Royal Palace, razing much of it into ash, taking many human lives while the High Fist escaped. As such, it being such a destructive being, Trabian reserved his Elemental for only the most dire of situations. Had not he had the power to do such, Trabian would have most likely been left at Orca.

Ignex stepped inside and looked for a place to sit down and rest himself. He was not as active as he had used to be. The Old Orc kept a sharp eye on things, for he had a sharp mind. He fondly discovered that the more dull his muscles came from age, the finer the edge of his wisdom became. He would sometimes chuckle at this, and remark of how strange life is sometimes that would rob you of something so precious so quickly to only bestow upon you something that should be cherished for eternity. One could only truly learn about life by living through it. Though his Sunny Days had all but left, Ignex still saw his future with a smile. His people had come so far in his lifetime. They'd go further than any before. The DanRas was a Great, Great Grandfather and had more relatives than he could count. It was a truly great life, filled with adventures and conquests and discoveries. It amazed him that they had ceased to ever truly end. He knew he would die a happy Orc.

Teel kept a keen glare at the Fire Dragon Warriors. He wasn't totally familiar with the metals of construction, but those beings had bones, and he could break those just as well. His Skells were primarily piercing weapons, so they did pretty well in stabbing through armor plates and parrying. He did not sit, but stood at the back, facing the guards from the other end, his arms folded in a menacing gesture. Every now and then he would glance at Trabian. Teel didn't trust magic. He hated magic. He hated everything about magic and everything magic could do. He didn't trust magic users, and he especially disliked Trabian. He was partially jealous of the position the Warlock had, but that had nothing to really do justice to his own prejudice against magic users. He could acknowledge that it was due to the Magic of the Sphinx Raat that he was even alive after the failure of Balraga. He didn't enjoy that at all. It was Teel that executed Xerxus of the Raging Bear on the Battlefield, though the History books would give that pleasure to the Giants. Ikorum gave no mercy for cowardice. The Orcish Doctrine defined it as weakness. Teel was mighty and courageous. He was Right in what he did. The pieces of that Troll were devoured to the Dorns long before the Giants had finished genocidally hunting the entire High Orcish Civilization.

Delgon sat down across from Ignex. He had to keep concentrating. He felt an emotion of uneasiness here. Delgon knew that the High Orcs did not belong here. He knew that they would probably be treated in a somewhat off-hand manner, and probably be thought as circus attractions, or amazing pets. Knowing well the impulsiveness and impatient manners of the hot-blooded Manus and the ever-ready Teel, he began to generate think of a way that would at least protect them from themselves, or at least give their thoughts protection. The High Orc closed his eyes, and touched his temple. He began to concentrate for several moments. He would not open his eyes or stop his trance until the train ended. Other than physical violence, his Trance would not be interrupted. The others understood the meanings of such a procedure and would be quick to cover it up by disguising it as something psychologically wrong with the boy. It was Delgon's secret, and a racial anomoly. It was something that the High Fist Council was protecting from the Universe and from the Clans. Something that no one could know . . .

Manus stepped inside, looking the duchess up and down. There seemed to be something off about this elf. She didn't seem to be like the Elves Manus had personally met in his few decades of life in Palladium. Manus was chosen as the EnheilRas in the latter part of the war, so his dealings with the Elven benefactors had been little. He didn't know them well personally, but then again, they didn't really give their fodder the chance to learn about them that well. Trebelium had been instrumental in building the Clans into a nation from nothing. He was one of the few true leaders that the clans had known in their history, which at the time spanned hundreds of years, but due to the time-flux from the Riddle Weaver, now was tens of thousands. It was still quite a bafflement to him, as he could easily recall the memories of invading and Raiding Royal Dwarven Citadels, carrying the Flag of the Elven Nations as his armies marched through the mountain fortresses in conquest. He loved war a bit too much, but it was the design of his race and of his people to have such an emotional attachment. The militant life was the only true existance. Efficiency was primary over luxury. It was a reflection in the Culture and the Society that was firmly set in True Orcish Civilization, something Manus had sadly realized is almost completely extinct.

"So where are we headed, exactly?" Trabian inquired.

The others kept silent, some eager to know what exactly this machine was able to do.

(OOC: Read it carefully, there is no offer of physical healing.)

“You misunderstand Shalazar,” Fírë frowned, but let the energies flicker and fade; brought her gaze to bear on mundane perception. “I could not heal you. What I offered was for your mind.” She shook her head. Found her eyes drifting away from the robed being as she searched for the void in material form.
“Sometimes we have to travel over difficult terrain to find what we need, Shalazar.” It had drifted away, but surely she could recognise it still?
Then an alien mind touched hers and she looked across the plain, found her mark.

(OOC: Read it carefully, there is no offer of physical healing.)

“You misunderstand Shalazar,” Fírë frowned, but let the energies flicker and fade; brought her gaze to bear on mundane perception. “I could not heal you. What I offered was for your mind.” She shook her head. Found her eyes drifting away from the robed being as she searched for the void in material form.
“Sometimes we have to travel over difficult terrain to find what we need, Shalazar.” It had drifted away, but surely she could recognise it still?
Then an alien mind touched hers and she looked across the plain, found her mark.

(OOC: Shalzar misunderstood you and he believes that nothing can heal the deep wounds and pains he has suffered... Ah well, Shalzar is gonna go wander in the "natural" parts of the Craftworld, he doesn't like palaces and decadence...)

Shalzar laughed as he spoke, "I have seen the birth of negative stars, traveled through the depths of space, felt the power of black holes, and witnessed the destruction of whole systems... Through my travels, I have marveled deeply at the beauty of creation, but my healing process has not occurred. Through the twenty odd years since the incident, nothing has brought me intense joy nor intense pain..."

Shalzar shook his head as he pulled on his cloak and fastened its clasp. With a last forlorn glance at Firë, Shalzar turned and departed from the ballroom, his cloak swishing behind him...

http://www.avalon.dk/images/gallery/large/CYBORG.JPG

There was little time for Atassar to regain his composure, awaken the smile on his lips and the stars in his eyes.
His joy quickly faded with the sudden appearance of another figure, as he effortlessly gained all of Aliria’s attention in an instant.

“Maglor,” he caught the name from her lips and his eyes widened, ghosts paraded through the mirrored-grey of his eyes and for an instant it seemed a silver city burned there.
He looked away, spotted Aliria’s hound and bent whispering soothing words to the creature. Perhaps they are words to soothe my heart. He moulded the air with his hands, slender fingers weaving currents. What is to come will come and let it.
He rose, glanced from Aliria to Maglor.
“If there is to be a suitor of merit, let it be the Prince of Menelmacar,” he murmured. “I am Atassar of Silmessë, Lord of Tárasarnë. But of course, should the Princess favour me, my allegiance would be only to Aelosia.”
He looked deep into the eyes of Maglor. Could you say the same?

"To a party, Trabian, Sire, being held in the D'Hyru Holdings, the most beautiful part of our lands, created and controlled to have an everlasting spring, and an everlasting beauty. You were invited no?, at least the transmission reached you in some way", said the Duchess smiling to the orc, keeping her merry attitude although she was feeling an odd aura of violence around several of the orcs. One of the fire Dragons guards removed his helmet, showing a fine female features, approaching Teel with an aloof attitude.

Aliria looked at the pair of suitors that were pretending her hand. The fair and noble Lord of Silmessë, tall and beautiful, delicate and well mannered. And the powerful aura of the blessed Prince of Menelmacar, an elf born in Valinor, one of the first born and maybe the strongest and most powerful elf alive with the exception of his own mother. She felt the energies of the nobles clash in front of her, and noted the rivalry between them.

"I still favour noone, as I'm just meeting both of you for the first time, and my heart is a valuable good, the symbol of the everlasting beauty and kindness of my people. It can't be given away without any effort, as not only my hand carries the reward of being my companion for all eternity and enjoying of the sweetest of my caresses, me descendant of Nimloth of Doriath, and fairest of the Sindarin people, but the reward of power over this throne and this Empire, and over my own people" she said to both men, trying to smile yet keeping a very high and regal attitude.

"To a party, Trabian, Sire, being held in the D'Hyru Holdings, the most beautiful part of our lands, created and controlled to have an everlasting spring, and an everlasting beauty. You were invited no?, at least the transmission reached you in some way", said the Duchess smiling to the orc, keeping her merry attitude although she was feeling an odd aura of violence around several of the orcs. One of the fire Dragons guards removed his helmet, showing a fine female features, approaching Teel with an aloof attitude.

"Yes well," Trabian muttered. "We do have a crude machine that interprets signals gathered by our Air Elementals into a type of written code. Our scholars then interpret the code into symbols, and through a magical incantation known as the Eye of Thoth, read it, no matter the language which it was written. It's a long way to go around things when we could probably purchase a radio or television from some nation's retail store, but the EnheilRas prefers that the new world technology not been thrown at our kind. If we are to naturally adapt and learn to use this, it should be on our own terms. We need to refine our knowledge, and touch base with what we truly are. Orcs have forgotten their glory. They've forgotten their rightful leaders. The EnheilRas shall remind our race one day. Until then, it's just catch-up."

'This thing has the nerve to call itself a Dragon?' Teel thought. 'It's an overgrown lizard. Back home, Dragons were ten times the length of a man. They didn't need technology. They wouldn't need it still. They relied on the magic in their veins and the toughness of their flesh. A True Orcish Spirit that!' The hard-assed knight eyed the being up and down as it sauntered over toward him. His fingers curled into fists, still shoved under opposing arms as they were crossed. The High Orc grumbled out in his rough, war-torn voice, "Is there something you want?"

It was at this time, that all psychic and magical manifestations from the Orcs turned Null. They would show no readings, and be impossible to touch with any sort of psychic or magical mind probing. A powerful block had just been erected on the entire group. They were void to the eyes and brains of the gifted.

Manus minded both conversations at once. He battled which one to firmly slap first. Trabian was brilliant yes, but a little too talkative. It was easy for him to get cocky and arrogant and mouth off, most of the time saying more than he should. Teel was strong, but a little too pushy. He loved to fight so much that he'd egg on opponents when it wasn't the right time, like now. He's done well enough, but it just was inappropriate. Though they were like brothers to the EnheilRas, he sometimes just wanted to send them to the stocks for acting like children.

"The true evil orc leaders?, I suppose you mean, let me make some clear here. You were accepted as guests just because we were curious about the term High Orc, and until now your appearance has deceived us enough, at least you don't look like the fallen and stinky scum that we usually fight in the battlefields across the universe. But I still remember that you're part of ARDA and a friend and ally of our worst enemy Melkor, and that the Aelosian law says that any Kinslayers or allies of a Kinslayer that enter Aelosian territory must be slain without a trial or even the right to defend themselves. Your presence is allowed here just because the Princess D'Hyru wants to know more about you and to show to the world an imae of tolerance", says the Duchess switching her tone as the train started to move at an amazing velocity, heading to the D'Hyru Holdings.

"I want to show you something, little orc with flashy, fancy blades. You think that I'm not a dragon just because I'm not bigger than you, or just because I don't use magic, yet you forgot something. I can breath fire like the dragons of old, and I can turn you into a fine steak in less than a second, even before you could move, just pushing a button. This is our magic", said the Fire Dragon Guard pointing at her portable flamethrower and the plasma tank. "It's called technology, as the train that you're riding now. It's like magic, yet we don't need shamans, mages or whatever you use. It's more reliable and cheaper, morecivilized. Magic is for the beasts and the old fashioned losers. About the dragons, a squad of our troops could kill as many dragons as you wish, as we did in the past. Our Wraithbone skin is even harder than the scales of the huge reptiles, and our flames are even more deadlier", concludes the proud aelosian soldier, her perfect form enmarked by the carefully crafted wraithbone armor.

Alassar found he could not help but smile at the quiet words of Aliria.
“Indeed, your value is so high that I was hesitant to bring my suit hither from distant Silmessë.” He glanced at the Lord of the Silmellon, standing now behind them and seemingly content merely to observe for now. “It was only through Olorndil’s intervention that I even made the journey.”
He shook his head, wondering if the Aelosian Princess found him strange.
“I have dreamed about a great lady who holds your beauty and your grace for many years. It was to find her that I first left Valinor so long ago, for I cared not for Fëanor’s lost treasure.” He offered Aliria his hand. “I hope that I have found her now, for it would break my heart to discover I had come so close and yet was still too far away from her.” A smile, gentle and somewhat sad before he put a barrier between his secret fears and sorrows and revealed only the gilded features of familiar joy; smiled brightly now. “A dance Aliria? I care not if Prince Maglor joins us, I imagine there is grace yet that I can learn from our Menelmacari cousins.” He glanced down at her hound, found the creature’s eyes and for a moment there seemed to be between them a rapport. “You must tell me all about Aëlasse, and everything else that pleases you.”

http://gallery.cybertarp.com/albums/userpics/12052/atassar.jpg
Atassar

"Of course we can dance, as a matter of fact I love to dance, it's one of my favourite arts, because dancing, like singing, it's an art", says Aliria taking Alassar's hand and walking alonside him to the dance floor, visibly nervous and leaving Maglor standing there, but directing him a last glance of hope and sympathy.

"What you want to know about me?, ask and you will have your answer", sais Aliria, smiling at the Lord of Silmesse as the orchestra was playing a nice song written by Daeros of Doriath thousands of years ago. Then the Princess started to move her body spinning with absolute and flawless grace without taking her gaze off the Silmellon's eyes.

"The true evil orc leaders?, I suppose you mean, let me make some clear here. You were accepted as guests just because we were curious about the term High Orc, and until now your appearance has deceived us enough, at least you don't look like the fallen and stinky scum that we usually fight in the battlefields across the universe. But I still remember that you're part of ARDA and a friend and ally of our worst enemy Melkor, and that the Aelosian law says that any Kinslayers or allies of a Kinslayer that enter Aelosian territory must be slain without a trial or even the right to defend themselves. Your presence is allowed here just because the Princess D'Hyru wants to know more about you and to show to the world an imae of tolerance", says the Duchess switching her tone as the train started to move at an amazing velocity, heading to the D'Hyru Holdings.

It was beginning to come clear. Manus looked at the Duchess with a very strange expression. "You've never seen an Orc leader. You speak of inexperience, my dear." The EnheilRas' words were still calm, even though a boiling rage dwelled deep inside his stomach. If things did not improve, only four Orcs would come out of this train, and the stains would never be washed out. "As my knowledge of your History have gone, and pardon me if it's somewhat crude, all the Orcs you have ever come in contact with were for, or were enslaved by, some greater supernatural power, be that a demon or an elder god or some sort of powerful non-orcish magician. They may have had Orcish military leaders to lead them in armies, but they still worked for, and were still led by in totality, some non-orcish creature. You may deny this all you like, but it is fact."

Ignex nodded. "Indeed. It has been a rarity for eons for Orcs to roam free within their lands, led by their own kind and free of the chains of bondage to another power. You may look at us with disgust all you wish, but we are chained to no power and no other nation. We work the land, and work our True-Born Orcish Spirits. We've yet to fight any war, and the Clans are relatively ignorant on what the one called Melkor does, let alone that the Being even exists. Admittedly, if they knew, they probably wouldn't care, as long as the region of Arda, which we have made ours, is left alone. We did not come here to fight anyone. We came here to live. Wouldn't you at least allow our people to do that? Or are you so heartless and brutal that you would kill for no other reason than to see blood upon your hands?"

Trabian took off his hat, sniffing. He was such an emotional lightweight. Delgon rolled his eyes.

"I want to show you something, little orc with flashy, fancy blades. You think that I'm not a dragon just because I'm not bigger than you, or just because I don't use magic, yet you forgot something. I can breath fire like the dragons of old, and I can turn you into a fine steak in less than a second, even before you could move, just pushing a button. This is our magic", said the Fire Dragon Guard pointing at her portable flamethrower and the plasma tank. "It's called technology, as the train that you're riding now. It's like magic, yet we don't need shamans, mages or whatever you use. It's more reliable and cheaper, morecivilized. Magic is for the beasts and the old fashioned losers. About the dragons, a squad of our troops could kill as many dragons as you wish, as we did in the past. Our Wraithbone skin is even harder than the scales of the huge reptiles, and our flames are even more deadlier", concludes the proud aelosian soldier, her perfect form enmarked by the carefully crafted wraithbone armor.

"It's a good thing you can read my thoughts wyrmling," Teel noted. "I'd have been suspicious if I actually had a speck of privacy in the all-seeing eyes of your Mistress Nation." The EnheilChum uncrossed his arms, and chuckled lightly, but it came out raspy and almost as sore as his demeanor. "Boast all you like. I'd bet you'd be happy to know that I agree with you." This was surprising to the Dragonling, it had to be. "Who do you think is heading the High Orcish Modernization Committee? That'd be me. Magic is a thing of the past. It's nonexistant in this reality. The gnomes, goblins, dwarves, and humans have certainly done well for themselves in crafting such things and advancing ideas. I feel compelled to explore it as much as possible. The EnheilRas advocates going quite slow, so I must appease. The one you should be wasting your rage on is Trabian, not I."

Trabian snorted. "Your fire won't do anything whom is enhanced with it's immunity. It can easily turn on you with the whip of a Pyromancer's finger. Magic will never go out of us, because it is deeply rooted as the blade within our kind. Armor can't defend against wraithblades striking in the Astral Plane now, can it? Armor cannot help you when a river of molten magma suddenly bursts under your feet. Magic is only as powerful as the Magician. Truly Great ones like Dorin are like Gods-Among-Orcs. It's a force capable of anything, with the right mindset and the knowledge and ability. No matter how hard you push Teel, Magic will stay."

Teel laughed.

"Enough you two," Manus ordered. "I have to listen to this argument every other hour. Put it off."

If the Elven Duchess felt that the Orcs should have felt threatened or be striken by her seriousness. She'd be very disappointed.

As Atassar moved, fluid motion, it was clear that among the Silmellon, dance remained intricately linked to its forgotten origins.
A conversation without words; an eloquence of movement, of body and soul, and a revelation more potent. In this dialect it was obvious one could not lie. And there were many promises in Atassar’s dance.

As his body spoke to Aliria, a universal language even if one had only even spoken it before in broken syllables, Atassar used the lesser cousin of communication to question the Aelosian Princess.

“We all have secret dreams Aliria,” he whispered, close to her now and breathing her in. “I’ve told you mine; a search across eternity for a dream that some would have long ago given up on.” Not I, never I! Said his eyes, fine pools of mist. “Where are your dreams Aliria, where do they take you?”

"You're indeed different from all the orcs than any aelosian have met before, yet be careful, many Aelosian elves suffered the wrongdoings of your darker kin. I'm more tolerant than most, but the anger and hate against the orcs are a mainstay of the average Aelosian citizen. Please enjoy the party, and I hope that our hospitality could be enough for you", said the Duchess in a soft tone, smiling again to the High orcs as the train arrived at the holo station of the D'Hyru Holdings. The Fire Dragon Guard just smiled and put her helmet back on, leaving the orc knight alone.

Aliria looked enchanted at the eyes of the Silmellon Lord, marvelled at his charm. "My dream, you asked me about my dream. I dream about a place where the elven kin could live united and in peace, a place filled with trees, true trees, under the eternal moonlight, dancing in the shadows of the night only covered by the sky filled with stars. A place where the elves could live forever in the admiration and creation of beauty. I dream about the perfect music, and the perfect poetry. I dream about living in the same way my forefathers lived", said the Princess making another elaborate spin across the dance floor, happy to dance with someone who could follow her pace.

"A society centered around hate. Quite admirable, I'm sure," Delgon said. It didn't really surprise him. His people were racially tolerant and open to any being who wished to ally themselves under the flag of the ChumRas Orka. He couldn't expect every nation to be as gracious and benevolent as Orc nations were.

"Your allowance is hospitality enough," Manus spoke. He stepped outside the Train into the station. The others followed, and Trabian helped Ignex stand.

"Must be inside," Delgon surmised. Simple logic worked well enough.

------------------------------------------

It was at this time that the Orc made it's appearance not only to walk freely within Aelosian territory, but to stride directly inside the Palace of their national leadership, unaccosted. The Five High Orcs, their armored boots making loud thumps against the floorboards. Manus headed a natural V-style movement with Ignex and Delgon on his side, and Trabian and Teel following them on the flanks. They would step inside this Grand Ball, filled with Elves and the like, and be reminded of the gaudy ostentatiousness of the Palladium Elves. They would wonder how someone could ever live in some cushy lifestyle, and ponder what the point of it was exactly. Even the noblest and richest of Orcs held small homes, built to efficiency rather than to take up space and show-off, and worked and toiled every day. Wealth was something that was almost unknown to Orcish culture. There was no true need for it.

"It's quite something, isn't it?" Ignex aspired.

"Indeed... It's...something." was Delgon's answer.

Teel rolled his eyes upon taking a moment to listen to the music. "That always was the thing I never liked about Elves: the music. How could anyone ever dance or celebrate to this? The lack of percussion and strong steady beat really puts me off."

"Must you whine about everything?" Trabian retorted.

"I wouldn't whine at your funeral," Teel shot right back.

(OOC: Feel the love)

"Easy you two," Manus said. "Why don't you go search for some type of nutrition. The DanRas could use some water. Delgon, find a place to sit down." The three nodded, and spread out, infiltrating through the Aelosian Party, leaving Manus and Ignex together. "You think we're over our heads here?" Manus asked of Ignex.

"Do not worry. Take things slowly. I am sure that whatever the outcome of this venture will be, that your decisions will make us proud."

“All these things are found in Valinor,” Atassar smiled. “How strange it is that all I desired lay beyond its shores in time and in space, while what you desire still lies in those lands.”
He seemed to anticipate her moves, though if she cared to ask he would have told her that she made no move without speaking of it to him. Her body telegraphed each step and he accommodated her.
His long waistcoat flaring out as he turned, as he danced round her; hair falling round his shoulders like golden light.
“I will entreat you now and again until you answer me with a yes,” he said. Come to Tárasarnë, visit the Silmellon and you will find in the whispering of the ornemalin in Lassimardë to be the essence of the perfect music. And I will teach you their language and in that you will see elements of the perfect poetry for they who whisper only breathe glorious praise.
He moved, enfolding her, spinning with her and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Come to Tárasarnë and you will live as the Eldar lived when first they sang under the stars.”

http://gallery.cybertarp.com/albums/userpics/12052/atassar.jpg
Atassar

Several guards approached the orcs, commanded by an officer dressed in party garments over his wraithbone armor. "Wait a moment, honored guests, you can't enter the party with weapons, not even elves are allowed to carry weapons here. Sorry for the inconvenience, but laws are laws, and customs are customs. You can leave your weapons in the holotrain wagon".

"You're charming, aren't you?. I'm almost convinced to leave all my life behind and go with you to your lands. I have heard the tales about the cities, the forests and the people of Silmesse", said Aliria, smiling at Atassar and drawinf him close, placing her arms around his shoulders

Atassar laughed, a sudden lightening of his spirits that was echoed in the sparkle of his eyes. “I am gild-tongue remember,” he told Aliria. “But I would not ask you to forsake your people for the freedoms of living without burdens in Tárasarnë, in Silmessë. There are some things more important than our treasured dreams.”

He wove illusions in her mind, let her glimpse the soaring peaks of the Arinoronti mountains, Orotelpë predominant for it was the mount of Tárasarnë.
For a moment Aliria was there with Atassar, chill winds against her cheeks as they danced on carved stone, an open ballroom at the very heights of a snow-cloaked peak. There were úrarossë forcing blue blossoms with pale silver etched borders through the snow at their feet, a ballroom decked for midwinter. Pale, almost camouflaged snowy owls watched from shadowed niches in the grey rock face; golden-amber eyes wild with animal intelligence.
Then the illusion frayed at the edges, unravelled as though it had never been and still Atassar and Aliria danced.

“You could go there, I could show it to you.” His eyebrows rose, golden like the shimmer in owl-eyes. “You would not need to forsake your duties as heir to the EverQueen, that sacred trust between you and your people. I only ask for a visit, for days in Tárasarnë.”

His eyes were everywhere she turned, coloured like the silvered peak of Orotelpë. You could have your dream then, for a handful of days and I could pursue mine. His thoughts surrounded her, gentle as his arms reaching to enfold her. Ondailin, that plateau carved into the mountain rock, a ballroom among many in Tárasarnë is but one place I could show you. He let her spiral out his arms, whispered as she pirouetted away. “You must come Aliria, you must see my world so that you may know even more of my heart.”

"I'll go with you. I'll go to Silmessë, as long as the ShadowPrince approves. My heart is trembling with the desire of knowing such places and such customs. Inded you have a silver tongue, Atassar, even I was proud of myself of not being easily convinced by noone, but you can change my mind so easily. Although my heart is a well guarded treasure, you indeed have a lot of merits to deserve my love, forever", said the Princess smiling at Atassar, resting her head against his chest.

"I'll go with you. I'll go to Silmessë, as long as the ShadowPrince approves. My heart is trembling with the desire of knowing such places and such customs. Inded you have a silver tongue, Atassar, even I was proud of myself of not being easily convinced by noone, but you can change my mind so easily. Although my heart is a well guarded treasure, you indeed have a lot of merits to deserve my love, forever", said the Princess smiling at Atassar, resting her head against his chest.

OOC: Well, sorry I've not really been around enough for any prolonged RP in this thread... I've always been intimidated by these funtions (thus I'm not having one for my 2 Billion size-ness). None the less I may make a cameo appearence later if I can work it in somewhere...

“Aliria, I didn’t change your mind,” Atassar smiled at her, drew her close to his side as the music softened to its close. In moments it would segue into another melody, but for now only the mingled murmur of the guests played through the air. “Your dreams persuaded you. It was to them that I made my appeal.”

His every move showed his joy in her answer. The energy that shimmered round him showed how eagerly he wished they were already departed for his distant home.

“I measure the value of your heart very highly,” he whispered to her. A slight rouging of his pale cheeks and a vivid glimmer in his eyes. “I am certain that between yourself and Olorndil, the Shadowprince will be satisfied and give you leave to come to Silmessë. No Silmellon would allow harm to come to the Princess and Heir of Aelosia, we hold your people in the greatest of esteem Aliria.”

Several guards approached the orcs, commanded by an officer dressed in party garments over his wraithbone armor. "Wait a moment, honored guests, you can't enter the party with weapons, not even elves are allowed to carry weapons here. Sorry for the inconvenience, but laws are laws, and customs are customs. You can leave your weapons in the holotrain wagon".

"Weapons? What weapons?" Teel asked when accosted. The Skells just looked like plain guantlets. Do to their refurnished design, Knights could hide the Blade, and the Axe-Finned Buckler. It was more evident to the fact that Aelosia could never have known about the existance of the weapon of the skell. The weapon was engineered by High Orcs, used by High Orcs, and given never to those whom were not High Orcs. It's training and mastery were strictly kept on racial bounds. It did not seem at all like Manus, Teel, or Delgon carried gauntlets with a 4' long curved blade. "You automatically assume that we could come here to kill your leaders, or because we are not of your kind, you suspect us of carrying undertones of subterfuge and insurrection to your nation? I'd hope you treat your guests better than that. This is Racial Profiling! Back off you poor excuse for a skeleton, you'd have to slice off my arms and legs to rid me of weapons."

Trabian, however, would be a bit more direct. "Weapons eh? Well, I'd have you know I'd keep my tongue in check if I could. That's more potent of a weapon than anything else you'd happen to find if you took the liberty of searching me. My hands can be quite destructive when they are forced, but that could be said of any being whom has manual dexterity."

Manus could see that Teel and Trabian were getting a little antsy. Neither one enjoyed being confronted like they were. It was too bad they hated each other for their few differences that neither could see the sheer number of major similiarities between them. As they would argue with the guards, who would never get anywhere in getting them to reveal themselves to actually *be* weapons, rather than *have* weapons. This is why Manus brought them. They were unofficial bodyguards. Manus searched where Delgon had found a nice table where Ignex could sit. He focused on his son's point of view and traced it to a ballroom dancing floor, where it seemed a session in courting had begunn. "Ahh, the mating ritual, yet again." Manus exclaimed to himself. It was almost like a national fad, selling one's daughter into the family of another nation. It seemed like nothing but a diplomatic slave-trade to him, and if it was anything that Manus hated and opposed, it was slavery in any form.

The EnheilRas walked over to Ignex's table. He would begin to wonder exactly when the rest of these Elves would begin to notice and acknowledge the High Orc's presence. Manus had a bet with Riga about how they would react, and wasn't about to lose it just because some Elves forgot to put their eyeballs in this morning.

The officer draws a thin power sword in one of his hands and a long shuriken pistol in the other. Looking at Teel, he said softly. "Your gauntlets, the guards at the landing pad saw you using a blades protuding from them. And if I need to slice your arms off, I'm sure that could be arranged, so don't tempt me, Orc", he waved his energy blade in the air to remark his point. Then he turned to Trabian, a fiery look of hate in his eyes. "And about your tongue, it could be arranged too, your kin didn't do less when they sliced my mother and my sister to ribbons. Throw your weapons in the ground. Now, I won't say it again".

The officer draws a thin power sword in one of his hands and a long shuriken pistol in the other. Looking at Teel, he said softly. "Your gauntlets, the guards at the landing pad saw you using a blades protuding from them. And if I need to slice your arms off, I'm sure that could be arranged, so don't tempt me, Orc", he waved his energy blade in the air to remark his point. Then he turned to Trabian, a fiery look of hate in his eyes. "And about your tongue, it could be arranged too, your kin didn't do less when they sliced my mother and my sister to ribbons. Throw your weapons in the ground. Now, I won't say it again".

"My kin?" Trabian chuckled. "You talk as if those Elves that did that to your parents were brothers of my mother." The Warlock grinned. "Oooh, don't doubt that what you call Orcs aren't elves, because we've done some rather extensive study on their genetic makeup, as well as their geneology and ancestry. All point to a direct heritage of Elves. Once you get passed some magical alterations to their makeup, it's quite easy to trace them to the very first, shall we say, batch of your Orcish enemies. Rather grusome bunch, I'd agree, but they are. . ." Trabian trailed off for a moment, gesturing his hands in a search of a word before arriving to, "Helpless, without some unnatural power to guide them. I'll thank you not to make such idle threats against those whom are so undeserving. Just because you are ignorant of our kind doesn't give you any right to unjustly harrass and attempt to intimidate our kind by comparing it to beasts equivalent to a hob-goblin in terms of pulchritude, dexterity, prowess, intelligence, and organization."

Teel seemed rather blunt with his defence. He had forgotten about those guards whom had marched towards the group as they landed. It seemed that they were quite good in communicating between each other by some technological means. It seems they knew that Teel's gauntlets could indeed become a Skell, and it seemed that they deemed it a problem that the Father of the Knights would carry his weapon on his hip. However, Teel didn't see this as a problem, he saw it as a test of trustworthiness to the Elves. A test these elves were failing miserably. "No Elf, nor Dwarf, Nor human, Nor any other race shall be granted the pleasure to carry the Skell of an Orcish Knight. The Skell is a symbol of Honor, of Courage, of Skill to our people. To want to relieve me of my Skell is the same of relieving me of the traits which are attributed to it. My Spirit is Strong, for it is the Spirit of the Orc. My Will is Brave, for it is the Will of the Clan. My Skell is tough, for it is the Skell of an Orc, not an Elf. Nay, you shall not see this Orc drop his Skell, but instead raise it higher where you may not reach, a level above your bigotry, your hallow insults, and your foolish racism. The Honor, Glory, and true Patriotism of the Orcish Knight that it seems, in so many many eons, that you Elves have lost the ability to have an equivalency."

Teel grinned. This gendarme was no threat to him at all. He could see a weakness in its spirit that he attempted to mask behind strong words and a fancy sword. Teel was used to pompous behavior, so it was easy for him to fight back. Though the fact that this haughty thin thing drew a blade and some sort of firearm (The Orcs know that firearms exist and how they work, just not how they are constructed) was quite brave of him. But the thing was, if the officer was to shoot, he'd have to pick a target, whosoever was not the target would in turn slaughter the officer for diplomatic assassination and treason against the trust of the EnheilRas . The important thing to note here was that they drew blades first.

Trabian spoke up once more, "Yet again, I have no physical weapons, though I do know a couple of tricks I am sure you've never seen an Orc perform. May I?" He asked rhetorically. "Let me begin!" Trabian said, rolling up his sleeves, which promptly rolled back down afterwards. He stretched his left arm to length out in front of him, palm upwards and out. His left hand came close to his mouth, index finger pressing to his lips as he closed his eyes, and began to mutter, "Styxa Aduswett Oltzags Nehyla!" As the chant focused, streams of fire poured from his tear ducts and ran the length of his arm, swirling in a helixical fashio as they met in his palm. As they met, they bounced against each other and rose to form a circle, which in turn opened a small gateway which a flame reached out, 10 feet into the air, which formed a face with blood red sapphires for eyes. THe creature seemed to blink, but for an instance, and Trabian called out, "Sasraph Bambrisk Urshorbo!" and the gateway closed, the etheral flame flicker creature disappeared. The Fire Warlock grinned, "Neat trick eh?"

Manus shook his head, "I don't like where this is going, and it's going there fast. . ."

"Stop right there. It's forbidden to spill blood inside the D'Hyru holdings, and the only one who can bring weapons to that party is the ShadowPrince, nobody else. You, stupid captain, keep that sword inside its sheath, this is no time for avenging old grudges. And you, Orcs, drop your weapons if you want to come in, if you can't, then you can leave by the same way you came here. Is that understood?", said a voice full of authority, echoing in the hall after the holotrain station. A figure completely covered by a black cloak stood nearby, the vision for a moment recalling those of the Nazgul. "Is that understood?", the voice repeated, and the elven officer sheated his sword, lowering his head.

The evening had progressed, far too quickly for Atassar’s taste.
And yet, he could not help but note with surprise that his time with Aliria had not yet been interrupted.
I hope that my luck will hold, but it cannot last forever. He smiled at Aliria, captured a glass of shimmering liquid for himself and the princess as a tray passed within his reach and handed a glass to Aliria.

“There is a song I fashioned long ago that is still imbued with the influence of Valinor,” he said to Aliria between sips of delicately flavoured liquor. “It is a very long song, I’ve had a great many years to work on it.” He laughed. “Maybe sometime I will sing it all to you, but for this night I would sing you just a small piece that speaks of my search through space and time for the figure that holds my every dream hostage, even as she appears in them.”
He looked up at Aliria, gazed into her eyes.
There could be little doubt that this exotic Elda maiden was indeed the spectre he’d sought out all his life; if not then his heart was telling him the greatest lies.

“It begins, Vanessë fuilórë i lómë antacuilë,” the melody that accompanied the lyrics was sombre, yet beautiful; evoking starlit evenings that could not be glimpsed from any mortal shore. Atassar’s singing voice was surprisingly powerful, richly varied in timbre.
He narrowed his eyes, silver crescents now, as he translated the words for Aliria.

“It is not so simple to make plain the lyrics in another tongue,” he smiled. “It changes the song a little. Haunting beauty that lives by night.
“I’ll render it now in the language you know best,” he said.
Haunting beauty that lives by night,
That holds my heart in thrall;
Let music pass your starlit lips,
Tell me the secret of your name,
For nightly as my dreams are passing,
It is you that dances through!

I know not of your home,
I know not of your dreams,
But if it be my worldly fate,
I’ll wonder alone till I’m with you.

The last of the words flew past his lips, almost visible as he lent them a momentary power; a glamour as misted as his grey eyes.
The silence after that lingered round them was no spell, but the nature of the music itself. As though the melody produced white noise that in passing swallowed every other sound whole.
Atassar shook his head slightly, cheeks flushed as he leaned close and whispered to Aliria, “I’ve never sung that to a soul before. Usually I sing it to the wind, to the water, to the stones of the mountains. If you wish, next time I’ll sing it as I wrote it…in the tongue of the Silmellon.”

http://gallery.cybertarp.com/albums/userpics/12052/atassar.jpg
Atassar

"That...that song was beautiful, Atassar. You can sing it in Quenya if you wish. I can understand you. You're almost a miracle here, in this home built with magic and metal. You're like the herald of nature and of the values that we lost so many time ago. You're magical, Atassar", said Aliria with a broad smile and blushed deeply, as most of the nobles and the courtiers approached to them and applauded the song with joy painted in their features.

"Stop right there. It's forbidden to spill blood inside the D'Hyru holdings, and the only one who can bring weapons to that party is the ShadowPrince, nobody else. You, stupid captain, keep that sword inside its sheath, this is no time for avenging old grudges. And you, Orcs, drop your weapons if you want to come in, if you can't, then you can leave by the same way you came here. Is that understood?", said a voice full of authority, echoing in the hall after the holotrain station. A figure completely covered by a black cloak stood nearby, the vision for a moment recalling those of the Nazgul. "Is that understood?", the voice repeated, and the elven officer sheated his sword, lowering his head.

"The only thing that is understood is the fact that you would call us honored guests when in the presence of others, but as soon as their heads are turned, you would attempt to intimidate, belittle, and discourage us. We have come with bearings of peace and a chance of racial equality which you have only saught to incinerate with your own bigotry. Even now, I see only idle threats made against our lives without any reason other than some distant relative that doesn't even hold any genetic bond as to who we are, but for some coincidence shares the name of which we were first. This is a stupidity that indeed knows no bounds. Yet, I conjecture, that you are ceaseless in violating our own honor by attempting to remove that which gives our own kind a significance? This is a travesty of travesties, and I shan't let it happen," Teel said.

The more the elves attempted to look frightening and worthy to speak to the Knight, the more stupid and off-handedly uncouth they actually came off.

Olorndil, aware of the growing tension had drifted towards the altercation between the High Orcs and the Aelosians.
Listening to the exchange he found himself drawn to voice his thoughts.

“Only an ill-guest would expect to find civil hosts when they break the house rules,” he shook his head. ”If you cannot abide by the conditions of your invitation, then why come at all?” He glanced at their weaponry and narrowed his eyes. “If that is your only worth,” he murmured, glanced up at the one who had spoken last; Teel, “then that which fashioned you must be forgiven his trespasses against the High Orcs. He has done you no favours when the only thing of value is a crutch that you must cling to like some drug that feeds you a sense of significance.”
He sighed, looked toward the shadowed figure.

“They are to be pitied, this is the measure of their words. Do not deprive them of their addiction, for you will leave them hollow, empty and useless.” He turned away, two shadows almost visible at his side; his háranmehtar.

“Send them home,” he said over his shoulder. “They will feel too inferior among our numbers, naked without their blades. It’s too sad to contemplate.”

http://gallery.cybertarp.com/albums/userpics/12052/olorndil.jpg
Olorndil
©Norma A Peters (http://elfwood.lysator.liu.se/loth/p/e/peters/bitterwind3.jpg.html)
(Used with Permission)

Atassar blushed, turned away from the eyes that had fixed on him.
He hadn’t realised his audience was greater than the Princess Aliria and he suddenly longed for the privacy of his chambers.
But there alone, he would be deprived of Aliria and this he could not bear.
How will I stand the hours between our next meeting, let alone the months that may yet pass before I have a chance to see her again?

“I will sing it in my own tongue when we two are the only ones to hear it,” he said looking up into Aliria’s eyes; trying to banish all thought of those whom gathered around them now. Did they wish to speak with him about his song? Would he and Aliria now be parted? His heart anticipated the ache and he stepped closer to Aliria. “It is not a song I wrote for every ear, but one I longed to sing to my mysterious beloved, my dream maiden.” You. The mental voice was light, a delicate and hesitant touch against her mind; a breeze in the winds of thought.

“Perhaps between us, we’ve the measure of all things that are and will be of our people,” he murmured. He glanced around at the Aelosian courtiers, recognised a hunger in their eyes; that same desire that lived in Aliria’s eyes. They longed for the ancient connection to the earth, to the ground they walked upon and the stars above. In this craftworld they were subtly denied what every Elda desired. “I promise that I will sing for your people sometime again.” He spoke more for those round them than Aliria herself, feeling a desire to fulfil the cravings of her people. I would sing it for all to hear if I but knew for certain that I had your heart as you have so quickly captivated mine.

"Those are the conditions. If you can't leave your weapons here, then begone. No elf is allowed to carry a weapon near the Princess except for the ShadowPrince. You can accept that, or leave. You won't be treated worse than an elf, yet not better neither", said the cloaked figure, clearly a noble of high status. "As the Lord of the Silmellon said. If your weapons is the only thing that gives you significance, you don't deserve to be here". Suddenly the figure turned as to see Olorndil, and the head switched from head to toe, as observing Olorndil very carefully.

Suddenly Aliria's voice echoed in Atassar's mind, although the delicate maiden in front of him didn't moved her lips or opened her mouth, just standing there applauding Atassar. Me?. You honor me with such thought, Atassar. Do you think that I'm the maiden of your dreams?. So be it, if I can earn the joy of listening to your voice every day, I could be with you forever, Atassar. She bowed, in a deep and complicated courtier movement, and everybody bowed with her, as the Princess could not stand lower than her vassals.

((Crap! How did I miss this!? :cry: 16 freaking pages already...well, I'd better join now before it gets even bigger. And yes, my character's first name is reused from one of the RPs I was in that died, and yes, her last name is ripped right out of The Celestine Prophecy.))

Name: Abriel Celestine
Title: Eternal Lady
Country of Origin: Cyberutopia
Number of Escorts: None
Number of Guards: One, Agent Four (hey, it's not like he has anything else to do :wink: )
Favorite Food: Doesn't care...
Do You Need Spacefaring Transportation: Nope
Special Requests: None, really

A small, sleek shuttle shot towards the Aelosian Craftworld

"We're late." Abriel noted with a sting in her voice.

"I know." Four responded, focusing on pushing the shuttle as fast as it could go.

"Very late."

"I know."

"Very, very late."

"I know."

"And it's your fault."

"I...no, it's not."

"We're still late."

"Shut up, I know."

"Did you just tell me to shut up?!"

"Yes, now shut up."

"Clumsy human."

"Snobby elf."

The shuttle neared the Craftworld and sent a message stating it's desire to dock.

Mephet'ran, he had dropped the identity of Kopinski as he slipped away, stalked the Shadowprince along the twisted corridors of the craftworld. He had taken the form of an elf, as unobtrusive as possible. It had been rather difficult to slip from the party, but eventually he had managed to get away unseen.

His tread was utterly silent – a few millimetres above the ground, and there was no sound as he moved. If he had guessed the elf’s intent correctly, he would be going somewhere, to check on the previous inhabitants.

Inwardly the C’tan smiled, a thrill of anticipation ran through its mind, this could be very interesting indeed. And quite possibly rather lucrative, he would just have to do a little bluffing – to pretend that he liked the elves far less than he really did. If there was one thing that he was good at though, it was bluffing.

He continued to silently stalk the Shadowprince, - were he a human, he’d probably be dancing by now.

A welcome party was already gathered to greet the Eternal Lady of Cyberutopia, an Orchestra playing the Cyberutopia National Anthem and a guard of honor with their power swords raised high.

ArchDuchess Celestrianna Paelisi was already there, dressed in her usual bright dresses and sporting her ever present, warm and eternal smile, surrounded by a pair of courtiers and a dozen of additional Swooping Hawk guards.

As Four and the Eternal Lady came out of their transport, the ArchDuchess approached to them. Bowing very low in a delicate and soft courtier movement, she spoke "Be welcome, fair guests, to the fabled Craftworld of the Sindarin, the home of the Aelosian people. May the Valar protect you and ward you against all evil".

____________________________________________________________

The ShadowPrince left the hall in haste, worried about the presence of the C'tan envoy inside his own home. He remembered the Farseer Telgonthrind speaking against what he called the "Yngir", the far and ancient daemons who commanded legions of metal squeletons with green, glowing eyes. He was going to the Mounds, the inmense graveyard that comprised all the catacombs of the Craftword, the place where the Aelosian dead rested. A quite creepy place indeed, but also lonely enough

There the forefathers of the Sindarin placed not only their own dead, but also the souls of the Eldar, the former owners of the Craftworld, rested there, enclosed in something called "spirit stones". Those stones held a deadly and lethal secret, one secret that should be keep hidden...

The ShadowPrince checked if someone was behind him, an odd sensation running through his spine, as he was being followed. But there was noone behind him, so he just turned and entered the misty ruins near the core of his planet, entirely covered by his dark blue cloak.

On the whole James was having a reasonable time. At first he wasn't sure with the whole event at first because alot of the other nations were literally out of this world... elvan royality, alien races and people James had never heard of before. Overall it was quite daunting for him.

To James "ettiquette" was a set of rules for those who didn't have natural manners, it also helped (he supposed) if everyone had a list of rules writen down before hand, as it helps to have instructions on how to introduce yourself.

None the less James got past his confusion by being himself... most of the others were quite understanding when he made a mistake and thanks to Kayla, one of his best diplomats, he didn't make it often. She spent most of the night hovering near him and giving him hints when he looked confused.

He also found others like him occasional, unsure about the protocol in these sorts of events. He had a few drinks with them, a few good conversations about the mistakes he had made and then continued with his way.

James supposed he would have to be introduced to the leader of this... "craftworld" sometime and congradulate them on running such a good event as well as their beautiful world. However, for the time being he was just finishing a dance with another representative from a nation he'd never heard from... she was pretty good, though she did faulter occasionally.


Meanwhile Kayla continued to talk "business" with many of the other diplomatic staff, though it seemed that most of them were too far away for Iuthia to set up an embassy... afterall, Iuthia didn't have the technology for FTL as of yet and space travel was highly limited. Her night had been pretty good, but mostly "business"... setting up ties here and there, finding things out and generally learning what she could.

As for the others, one of the guards stood attention near the food, occasionally taking advantage of the exquisite food he couldn't get at home. Lizo, the clanger continued to watch James while standing near the musicians... he loved music most of his life, it was something all clangers seemed to enjoy...


James deGritz finished his dance and thanked the lady for the pleasure before walking back to Kayla to discuss where to go next.

"Well, this is an impressive welcome." Abriel noted, smiling and mimicing the ArchDuchess's bow. "Thank you for your warm hospitality. I hope everything on the Craftworld is well?"

"Hmm. It seems so...peaceful. I am too used to war." Four mentioned quietly, hardly audible.

The Eternal Lady nudged Four a little harder than necessary with her heel, and he fell into an uncomfortable silence.

((Bump because I don't think my post registered, though it got through.))

Aware that he was being studied, Olorndil paused; found the shadowed figures' head turned his way and smiled politely.
He’d listened carefully to the speech, though his back had been to the High Orcs and those standing before them.
His curiosity had been aroused.

“I don’t believe that we’ve been introduced,” he said. “Though you’ve advantage of me, knowing who I am.” He glanced at the High Orc party, then back to the shadow-elf. “Once you’ve finished your business here, perhaps you might reveal yourself to me?”


Atassar blinked in surprise, felt his heart singing in his chest; knew that his features telegraphed his joy and did nothing to cover the emotion.
I could honestly think of no other way I would prefer to spend eternity than basking in your light Aliria.
He held out a hand to the Princess, drew her up when she took it and stood gazing into her eyes.
“I’ve known you all my life,” or so it seems, “and I can’t imagine a world without you Aliria.”
He smiled, hoped that he was not forcing things. His hand trembled beneath her touch and he longed to say more but emotions stilled his tongue.

Mephet'ran entered the elven graveyard - at the heart of this stolen city ship. The mists seemed to gather around his form, and he himself seemed to blend in with them. He approached one of the trees nearby, watching with interest as it seemed to be - twisted, wicked somehow. Hardly normal that. He left the thing alone, skirting it - some trees he'd known to move, and wasting his time getting it off him wasn't on the agenda.

He instead sat, some distance from the elf-prince and watched him from the concealing shroud of the mists. After a few moments he reverted to the Kopinski-form, and retrieved a pipe of a sort from his robes, which he put to his lips and 'lit.' He watched the false-fire dance among equally false tobacco idly, waiting and biding his time.

((Bump.))

An elven noble, clearly by his jewelry of high status, clad in a strange power armor of some alien material, seeming like covered in porcelain, approached James De Gritz before he could reach Kayla. The men had proud features, with the slim chin and dark, deep eyes of most of his race, his long, dark hair falling like a black waterfall over his shoulders. Yet as he spoke, he lowered his head and bowed in front of the Iuthian dignatary. "Sire, I must have a word with you. Can I speak freely?. It's about Mademoiselle Kayla, your companion".

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The Duchess smiled, taking Abriel's hands between her own. "Everything is OK, after the war finished we're enjoying peaceful and bright times", she turned to Agent Four, with her smile opening even more to see the face of the fabled warrior. "There's no conflict here, just rest, happiness and peace. I'll try to teach you to enjoy those things. Only if you allow me to try it, of course, Sire".

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Aliria looked around her, suddenly the magic spell that was binding her to Atassar dissapeared, dispelled somehow by the presence of the rest of the court. She was still ensorcelled by his words and by his appearance, yet the shadow of doubt that she noted in Atassar's mind helped her to regain her sense of reality, making her to realize that all of this was happening very, very fast...

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"Of course I'll want to have a little chat with you, High Lord of the Silmellon. I hope we could share our views about life, race and universe", said the misterious cloaked elf still staring at Olorndil. "My name is Fhilantras Phaelos, High Duke of the Phaelos House, Sire. We in our House have a lot of interest about the knowledge of the Silmellon. Your customs, your land, your people", continued the aelosian noble with a whispering voice.

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The ShadowPrince whispered several words in Sindarin, spoken too fast and in a complex pronunciation to be understood easily by non native speakers. Several strange runes started to glow with a faint blue light over several trees until some kind of hatch opened in the ground, showing a set of stairs to something looking like a basement. After looking around one more time, the ShadowPrince entered the opening, dissapearing quickly from view.

"I would be greatly honored, ArchDuchess." Four said, smiling faintly.

Though Mephet'ran could doubtless be considered a fluent speaker of Sindarin, the elf's words slipped past him. He rose, absorbing the false pipe, and stepped from the mists, watching the elf dissapear into the ground. He frowned a little, and walked after him silently.

Only having walked a few steps, one of the more heavily armoured elves quickly approached him. His armour reminded him of the Power Armour they had at home, only this didn't make the wearer look like a gorillia and it was carefully adorned with curious gem stones and impressive markings. It was clear that this man was no simple guard, his armour was shining like the others but it was crafted with much more skill. His helmet was off too, which suggested the man (or elf perhaps, James wasn't sure how you would say that...) want to leave an impression and not be uniform like the others.

Another thing that James noticed was that the elves in this craftworld were not like the ones that lived in Iuthia. Back home the average elf was no taller then 5' 4" and he would have been concidered tall by other elves. Unlike the elves here who seemed to be more attentive about their image the elves in Iuthia were as simple as most other Iuthian's, at home elves are like humans with more pointed features (including the ears) and blonde hair was commen, they were very dexterous yet they got ill sooners then other races in the community... it also takes less wines for them to get drunk too... on the whole they fit in like everyone else. But in Iuthia they were just alot more delicate then the elves before James tonight.

None the less the mans intention was clear, James may not understand ettiquette very well but this man was showing the international (or intergalactic?) sign of meaning business.

James stopped and stood up striaght, he may be an important guest but now was the time to pay attention.

"Sire, I must have a word with you. Can I speak freely?. It's about Mademoiselle Kayla, your companion" The man stated, the tone was polite but firm and his accent was remarkably clear for someone who spoke elvan most their life.

James looked concerned for a moment, he always thought he would be the one to show himself up in this affair as Kayla was one of his more trusted officials... albeit still a diplomat. Perhaps the way diplomats operate on earth isn't the same here.

"Yes, of course... she hasn't done anything wrong has she?" James replied, he wanted to be blunt and fast on this issue as he wasn't fully aware of what they could do wrong.

Manus raises his hands, softened a bit by the noise, but resisting every urge to rip Olorndil's head plain from his shoulders and whip the back of this Shadow with his spine. Such filth spewed from the pit of the unworthy were usually the cause of why most races don't like elves, just not to their face. Arrogance and Elitism were strange bedfellows to pulchritude, but they always did seem to show up, nibbing on the heels of the Great Oppressor (as said before, the Group Mind Block Delgon set up in the train prohibits anyone from reading their thoughts, emotions or motives. They appear as grey to any kind of unnatural sensors). "Here is what shall happen," the Mighty EnheilRas spoke, actually offering to solve the problem, and not in turn belittle all whom you see with false pretentious babble. "Teel, my close friend and EnheilChum, you have every right to hold your Skell, as no Orc shall ever break the Great Orcish Doctrine, guests of nations or not. Our civilization is indeed one of might, but a grand decision of joining within this occassion was in turn to enlighten those with empty heads full of lies and narrow minds to that of truth and experience. Likewise, I shan't consider insulting them due to our separate civilizations clashing on a trite misconduct of distrust. However, I can understand your own Noble Convictions as well. So forthbeing, Teel, I charge you with outlaying security. Due to your own indominatable skill, as well as your courageous eye for noticing the smallest threat, I do not believe such a force is warranted within this Citadel of Ostentatious Flamboyancy. However, you alone will know how to act in the event of such a distasterous attempt to spoil the loins of such an occassion, as such, I wish you to stay outside, and keep a close eye on everything. Such a task will be two-fold, as your keen eye will be able to observe both the outer society and the factions of work which are employed by it, as well as their methods to their means." A lot of big words for an Orc eh?

Teel nodded and bowed, "On your word and your name, EnheilRas." The Tall High Orc stood and grinned a bit maliciously at the Elf Orlindil, his jutted jowl filled with filed fangs, functioning fiercely in finely feeding (Aliteration is GOD!). He pounded his chestplate once with the armored guantlet. "For the Honor of the Clans and ChumRas Orka."

Manus lowered his hands, "With that taken care of, get inside Trabian." The EnheilRas rejoined the [i]PunRas and DanRas, already inside.

The Warlock of the High Fist smirked. He stepped toward Orlindil, wiggling his index and middle fingers a bit. "You should really try to be a bit more hospitable and well-mannered. Had you lived in a lesser society, or of the same society holding a lower caste, I'm quite sure that your tongue would indeed be forfeit for such rudeness. We know about your species quite well, but you know nothing of ours. Take that into deep consideration before you open that hole to spew more garbage. It's not for our sake, but for your own so you don't appear as big of a fool as you do now. The last thing anyone wants is to disturb the great EnheilRas. I'll give you but a minor secret in informing you that his temperance is more heated than anything I can conjecture with my own fingers." Trabian wiggled his fingers once more and grinned before stepping into the Noble House. Orlindil wouldn't notice as first, but the temperature around him will have increased to nearly 110 Degrees Fahrenheit (Almost 38-40 Degrees Centigrate) while Trabian was near him. The Heat isn't anything dangerous, just enough to make him sweat. However, it was still there even after the Master Tactician left, following him with relentless heat.

Trabian rejoined Manus and Delgon and Ignex. Delgon remarked once, "That wasn't very nice Trabian."

"Neither was he," The Warlock answered, and grinned. "I could use a drink myself though. Stuff like that just makes me jovial." The High Orc stepped across the room to retrieve for himself liquid substenance. As out-of-place as it seemed, the High Orc seemed quite natural and casual in a palace filled with Elvenkind. It was nothing new to him, as his days enslaved by their kind had adjusted him to their "grand" parties to celebrate their own opulance. Trabian knew how to milk the right utter to get the sweetest of milk and not be kicked in the head by the hoof of the mighty heiffer that were their race.

"I spoke with Ignex, and he believes that the true meaning of this occassion was to diplomatically sell off the leader's daughter," Delgon informed Manus.

Manus laughed, and spoke to Delgon, "It seems that the Slave-Trade has only evolved into larger dowelries to hide it's evil, but a slave-trade it will always be, my son. Let us only comment lightly on it's foul business."

"Agreed," the PunRas nodded.

Olorndil

“I do not judge you on the merits of scholarly pursuit, but on your actions and behaviour now,” Olorndil shook his head. It was obvious that his earlier words had been beyond their ability to understand. Ill-guests indeed. “You speak too little and far too late for there to be any value in your proclamations.” He laughed. “Your sudden turn to enlightenment is most revealing, such layers as only gild the surface I’m sure.” He narrowed his eyes. “Collector of tongues, be certain were you among such barbarians as you name, your own tongue would long ago have been forfeit.”

He watched them walk away, laughter still reflected in the glimmer of his eyes.
Their attempts at sorcery left him mildly amused; he’d lived ages more than any of these beings seemed able to count and been born in lands so steeped in miracle and magic that it most certainly lay well beyond their comprehension. Rather than sloughing off the spell, allowing it to mar the beauty that lay around him; corrupting and poisoning with its ill-tuned weaves and painful flaws, Olorndil reforged it.
Made of it an illusion; a star that glittered in the palm of his hands, rose into the ether above till it dwindled away into nothing.

He turned to Fhilantras Phaelos.
“Nasty bit of work there,” he murmured. “Little difference in mindset between those they claim no relation to and themselves. If I may ask my lord Duke, why was there even an invitation sent out to them?” I understand the need to broaden contacts within a civilisation fuelled by international markets, but sometimes such meetings are best postponed. “I should watch them very closely Fhilantras.”

Atassar

Atassar sensed Aliria drawing away from him before it even translated into movement. Yet he could not be disappointed in her now. She’d given him so much more than he’d anticipated since their first meeting and now he could almost glimpse a future between them.
I would not rush our courtship for all the beauty in Silmessë my Princess. He smiled at her, let her know his thoughts. Imagined the joy of other days like this one, in which he could come to know Aliria’s mind; her joys and her fears.
“As long as we have time,” he whispered to her. Eye’s aglow with his fervour, broadcasting his happiness. “I know that time in such things is measured by political deadlines, yet we will savour the days ahead.” Come what may, I’ve made my choices.

Olorndil

“I do not judge you on the merits of scholarly pursuit, but on your actions and behaviour now,” Olorndil shook his head. It was obvious that his earlier words had been beyond their ability to understand. Ill-guests indeed. “You speak too little and far too late for there to be any value in your proclamations.” He laughed. “Your sudden turn to enlightenment is most revealing, such layers as only gild the surface I’m sure.” He narrowed his eyes. “Collector of tongues, be certain were you among such barbarians as you name, your own tongue would long ago have been forfeit.”

He watched them walk away, laughter still reflected in the glimmer of his eyes.
Their attempts at sorcery left him mildly amused; he’d lived ages more than any of these beings seemed able to count and been born in lands so steeped in miracle and magic that it most certainly lay well beyond their comprehension. Rather than sloughing off the spell, allowing it to mar the beauty that lay around him; corrupting and poisoning with its ill-tuned weaves and painful flaws, Olorndil reforged it.
Made of it an illusion; a star that glittered in the palm of his hands, rose into the ether above till it dwindled away into nothing.

OOC Note: These Orcs are hundreds of millions of years old (Or from a time much older than any single surviving Elf or Elven Kingdom). They don't even look like Orcs at all [at least to your definition]. They're much stronger, much more intelligent, much faster, much more physically attractive, faster, more dexterious, and serve to be greater leaders. Their magical ways not only serve to be some of the strongest of their time (i.e. Dorin the Darkweaver is perhaps one of the more powerful Wizards in the NS world as of now), they're even more potent now because there's even less that would even know how to do it. They do not attempt sorcery, they've long mastered it before your kingdom existed. They were born in the Time where the Beings whom created Magic existed (The Old Ones), and Born them from the very essence of Magic, and they were one of only a dozen surviving races from the War of the First Age.

Trabian is one of the more powerful Fire Warlocks out there, even if it is just a teasing prank, his control over heat and flame is absolute. He just happens to be one of the most brilliant Orcish minds in existence with, if it were tested, an IQ ranging in the upper 100's. This serves his Warlock ways even more, and barely ever does he miss an incantation, and has a tremendously high success rate at rituals. Teel Ikorum, however, is the Father of the Knights, and like any Orcish Knight, sees the Skell as a Symbol of Honor. It must be noted that the Skell is a primarily defensive weapon. Though a very long foil-like blade is a part of it, the very essence of it is an armored gauntlet with a fin-like buckler, both of which act defensively. The Orcish Doctrine prohibits any species, even 'lesser' Orcs, from ever possessing a Skell. This is how the weapon has never been engineered to any other race for hundreds of millions of years (Where their civilization grew and fell). It's a spectacular weapon, however, and when used ambidextriously, one truly has a more-than-worthy opponent in true melee combat.

IC: Within the Dark Circle, Dorin had already set up another Greater Circle Of Teleportation Ritual. This time, he himself would be going. Though not originally on the roster, Dorin had no real choice. The Clans would get restless at each passing hour to have their Leader gone without any real security that he had gone where he had gone. It was impossible to send an Elemental into Space, nor any Animal could exist within the vaccuum without protection of a technological level the Orcish Society had yet to comprehend for themselves. Dorin had little choice but to face execution for treason against the High Fist, or go himself and send a message to the rest of the Dark Circle clan that indeed, his ritual was successful. Then again, if it was not, then he'd be going to wherever they went, but at least he'd die like that and keep his honor.

As more Ritualist rode their way to the Dark Circle, exchanging places with those whom had previously interacted with the mighty one which sent the Orcish Coterie into Space. The Great Dorin the Darkweaver would be propelling himself into space, and had already left plans in which to create the Great Ritual of Gate, which would allow Dorin to send the entire coterie back from wherever they might have gone, him included. This was the plan, and the weakened numbers of the Clan of the Dark Circle, when compared to the other dozen clans, were being quite strained by the three rituals. Research would suffer for a week or two after this, Dorin realized, but hopefully, the EnheilRas wouldn't need to have anymore outings. This business with Riga on the beaches had seem to engulf the Red Blade and Golden Sky. This pretty much left Dorin in charge, and he was quickly facing death.

Dorin walked along the Great Circle while instructing the others on how to craft the third ritual circle. Time was indeed running short, as throngs of Knights from the Flaming Circle had been accumulating on the base of the mountain where the Shrine of Lopnel stood, so very near the Dark Circle ritual grounds.

After walking for a long and narrow hallway, the ShadowPrince finally arrived to a huge hall of strange proportions and conception. Part of it was built from a high Eldar structure, pieces of amber wraithstone still holding together a huge door decorated with Eldar runes that glowed brightly, a hint of their magical or psionic abilities. The ceiling was decorated in a clear elvish style, a map of stars and constellations made with diamons over a black onix surface. But the pillars and the floor was clearly made by dwarven hands, and were eons old, as most of them were crumbling. Clearly the ceiling and the pillars weren't native to the Craftworld, brought here by the Sindarin by some means to decorate the place, or with some historical background.

Flanking the huge door were a dozen of Shadow Dragon Combat Droids, the best elite troops of the Aelosian Army, programmed by DNA and using Kenkari technology for free thinking. The machines couldn't be bribed, never sleep, never eat. In other words, the perfect guardians. The red eyes of the big robots gleamed as the ShadowPrince approached, and several of the creatures moved, or opened their wings.

They quickly recognized the Prince by his DNA and resumed their guard duty, without making almost any noise. The Prince advanced towards one of the pillars, and placed his hand over it, whispering a name. He repeated the process with each one of the crumbling pillars, and as he spoke the diamonds resembling stars in the ceiling of the hall started to gleam with an eerie blue light.

Finally the Prince advanced to the gate and touched several of the runes, making them change color from a passive blue to a fiery crimson. The Eldar runes moved, changing of position in relation to the others, until finally all of them were glowing red and the door opened with a deep hum...

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"She hasn't, Sire. As a matter of fact she's one of the most polite and well mannered non elf that I've seen in all my life. She can maintain the courtier's way but still looking natural and spontaneous. Is she your daughter, Sire?, or your wife?. In that case I must congratulate you for having such a charming relative as your companion", said the elf smiling a little as his features showed an honest and frank expression, staring deep into De Gritz's eyes with his big, elongated blue eyes full of sympathy for the human standing in front of him.

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The Phaelos Duke smiled, and moving his apparently decrepit figure very fast he grabbed Olorndil's arm, inviting him with his other hand to walk a little alongside him. "They are being watched very closely since they appeared in this place, My Lord Olorndil, Sire. And they weren't invited here, they just appeared from nowhere, and we were pious enough to forgive their lives", said the Duke in a whispering and sinister tone. And then with just a subtle hiss he added "And they won't leave this place ever, anyway".

The Duke took Olorndil through a door that closed almost instantly after they left the Holotrain station, leading them to the outside where several Dire Avenger Elite troops were waiting. "You're safe, now, Lord Olorndil, Sire. Those Orcs are dangerous people and will be treated as such"

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I want you to stay here as my guest until my decision is made, and if the Valar are fair then I'll leave with you to your fabled lands of Silmessë, was the mental message that Aliria sent to Atassar as she turned to face another of the suitors expecting her attention.

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The Captain of the guard supported the warm air, after all he fought the Uruk Hai in the plains of Angmar under the burning sun, sank to the knees in the red sand of Mars. But even he smiled as the Lord of the Silmellon dispelled the speel with ease. He knew that his breach of etiquette must be punished with something, and that was why he accepted to suffer the wrath of the clumsy show of Orc magic with stoicism.

An elven woman dressed in an simple outfit appeared just behind Delgon as most courtiers and attendants cleared a way for the orcs, some of them clearly scared, others just enraged. The woman, just sporting a blazer an a conservative skirt, smiled at the words of the High Orc as she fixed the glasses that covered her eyes. "It's not the leader's daughter, it's the leader herself that is looking for a husband, and she's doing it by her own, free will, after her last love died", said the woman in a dry, emotionless tone before sipping some of the wine that she was holding in a glass. "Why are you here?. You don't seem to be the kind of guys that enjoys being in a party, mostly in an elven party. And I don't think that you're here to present yourselves as suitors for the Princess. So?".

James, to this point thought his friend Kayla was in trouble... afterall, as far as he knew alot of connections were made a events like this by diplomats and he wasn't really very good with all the introduction proceedures and so on. However he suspected that some of her work can involve careful manipulation using words and offers... as such James was under the impression that maybe she had done something the Aesolian's didn't like.

However, when the tall and (James had to admit) hansome elf replied to his query he was relieved to find out that it was nothing more then a innocent question as to his relationship with her...

Well, that could be simply expained...

"Ohhhh, I see." Lord General deGritz replied in what may have been interpreted as a large sigh of releif. He looked over to Kayla whom was currently engaged in conversation with another delegate.

James had to admit, she was very attractive and he had noticed this on many occasions. One this occasion she wore her simple white dress with some simple platinum jewelery, her dark brown, striaght hair flowed down to her shoulders and she wore the bare mininum amount of make-up required to hide the few freckles she had... on the whole she took her job very seriously, which ment that James wouldn't even think of asking her to dance and visa versa...

"Kayla is probably the best diplomat we have in Iuthia, she's... very dedicated to the nation and her duties; so she couldn't be my partner..." James sighed, then continued. "I'm sure she will be pleased to know she has made such an impression. Is there anything else I can help you with... err... what did you say your name was again?"

"I would be greatly honored, ArchDuchess." Four said, smiling faintly.


((Since you haven't responded to this, I'll take the liberty of adding something to it.))

"Might we be shown the way to the party?" Abriel inquired, adding in a whisper to Four, "You can stay here."

Four responded quietly, "That's quite alright, but I'll be accompanying you."

The C’tan wandered over to the entrance the prince had used, smiling a little. He walked around it, and seemed to liquefy for a moment, flowing downward into a puddle of what looked like mercury. The puddle then waited a moment, before taking on the pattern of its surroundings. It flowed toward the entrance, and inverted itself, clinging to the ceiling as if it were glued there, but still flowing, changing to match the background as it moved.

It suspected there would be guards down there, and hoped this would work – it didn’t really want to have to fight them, and wouldn’t unless it proved to be absolutely necessary.

"My name is ArchDuke Admiral Atheril D'nan, Sire, Chief of the Great Noble House of D'nan and Viceroy of the Fiefdom of Craulnober, although you can call me Atheril if you want to, Mister DeGritz, Sire", said the elf with another bow and a considerable amount of humility showed in his features (a very strange show indeed, as the Aelosian elves tend to be arrogant and aloof, mostly the high-ranking nobles). When he rose from the delicate bow, he looked to DeGritz in the eyes again. "I wanted your permission to ask her to dance, Mister DeGritz, Sire, as you seemed to be her companion. More directly, Sire, as I know that she's only your faithful servant, I would like to ask permission to court her", said the elf in a really honest tone, as he turned to see Kayla for a moment and whispered for a minute...

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"Oh sorry, I'm so clumsy sometimes. Of course, please follow me to the Holotrain station. It will take us to the D'Hyru Holdings", said the ArchDuchess placing her hand in her forehead as affected by some kind of sudden affection. "Take my arm, Agent Four, I hope you could enjoy this party, even if it's a quiet one, as far as you are in my company", she continued, offering her arm to Four as she walked alongside Abriel.

"Thank you, ArchDuchess." Four said, taking the sunglasses from his eyes and smiling down at her as he put his arm through hers.

Abriel merely nodded and walked gracefully alongside the two.

The three of them, escolted by the usual honor guard, arrived to the holotrain station, the doors of the wagons opening with a hum, softly sliding to a side. The Wraithbone Worm, the holotrain, just stood there motionless, suspended by the magnetic field in the gravitic tunnel.

"Please, beloved guests, come in and enjoy the view of our nation, shaped by our own hands with our sweat, tears and...effort", said the ArchDuchess to Abriel and Four, realizing how near she was of saying "blood". "We will arrive to the party soon".

"My name is ArchDuke Admiral Atheril D'nan, Sire, Chief of the Great Noble House of D'nan and Viceroy of the Fiefdom of Craulnober, although you can call me Atheril if you want to, Mister DeGritz, Sire", said the elf with another bow and a considerable amount of humility showed in his features (a very strange show indeed, as the Aelosian elves tend to be arrogant and aloof, mostly the high-ranking nobles). When he rose from the delicate bow, he looked to DeGritz in the eyes again. "I wanted your permission to ask her to dance, Mister DeGritz, Sire, as you seemed to be her companion. More directly, Sire, as I know that she's only your faithful servant, I would like to ask permission to court her", said the elf in a really honest tone, as he turned to see Kayla for a moment and whispered for a minute...


"She's her own woman... so you had better ask her Atheril. You don't need my permission." replied James, who now smiled ever so slightly. Things made a little more sense and now the elves her seems a little more human.

Kayla turned to both James and Atheril for a moment, looking for the tell tail sign that James may be drowning in the formal rules of polite conversation... but his expression didn't seem to suggest he was having problem so she returned to her conversation.

James then unwitingly tapped the elf on the shoulders. "Good luck"

The Captain of the guard supported the warm air, after all he fought the Uruk Hai in the plains of Angmar under the burning sun, sank to the knees in the red sand of Mars. But even he smiled as the Lord of the Silmellon dispelled the speel with ease. He knew that his breach of etiquette must be punished with something, and that was why he accepted to suffer the wrath of the clumsy show of Orc magic with stoicism.

An elven woman dressed in an simple outfit appeared just behind Delgon as most courtiers and attendants cleared a way for the orcs, some of them clearly scared, others just enraged. The woman, just sporting a blazer an a conservative skirt, smiled at the words of the High Orc as she fixed the glasses that covered her eyes. "It's not the leader's daughter, it's the leader herself that is looking for a husband, and she's doing it by her own, free will, after her last love died", said the woman in a dry, emotionless tone before sipping some of the wine that she was holding in a glass. "Why are you here?. You don't seem to be the kind of guys that enjoys being in a party, mostly in an elven party. And I don't think that you're here to present yourselves as suitors for the Princess. So?".

"That's your national figurehead?" Delgon said, with mild astonishment. The Elves Delgon knew lived an approximate 600 years before passing away, which was 10 times the lifespan of an Orc, but a 10th of a Dragon's. It just seemed to fit naturally within the grand scheme of things, as if the Old Ones whom created them made the hierarchy just by lifespan. That's how the pieces fit in anyway. He's read things about some of the elves in fact having a gift of immortality unless bethrothed to a mortal species. It was half-amusing and half-amazing to Delgon, who'd have thought that life would become quite boring after a while, as Delgon couldn't much stand to be trapped in the Clan of the Jagged Crown for Eternity. "How many winters has she--" Delgon cut himself off. "I suppose you can't gauge winters in a place that lacks season." He was sure that they had some machine to track time-capacity, but renigged on himself to wonder why any race that would never die of age would do such a thing. Delgon shrugged and sighed. "I am here because the EnheilRas requested as such." Delgon put his hand on Ignex's shoulder and squeezed affectionately. The Old Orc placed his hand over the young Delgon's and patted it, nodding. Delgon was beginning to get some very bad emotions of times to come, he began to get a very bad feeling of things.

Trabian retrieved some refreshments, grinning, as he carried four glasses; two in each hand. The cups were a lot smaller to the casks he was used to, filled with some wicked brews they were from the High Steppes, but he was bound not just to put a dozen of glasses, and melt them together to fashion a larger glass two quarts volume. Treading back to Manus and the royal family, he indeed did notice those whom would glance at the 7 foot tall Orc dressed in deep alazarin robes and took deep note of the faces which expressed loathesome mannerisms. Trabian would have to act like a scout, and had the potential to do the most damage, much more than Teel could. It was indeed a blessing that the elves had lost the ability to recognize the superior qualities of Magic.

Manus spoke up to answer the visually-challenged inquisitor. "I decided to attend in an effort to allow your nation's leader the experience of having a presence with an actual Orcish Leader whom follows a True Orcish Society. It's not something I feel that your race has ever known to hold, and explains why you would hold the races of our Species guilty for the crimes some other power committed, or forced their hands to commit. I am here in an exhibition to present the fact that the Orcish Species united under an Orc seek only greater things in Greater ways, and our unique society is not something to be feared." The EnheilRas crossed his arms, rippling with bulging muscles, refined acutely in his physically empowered form, as he jerked his head back to launch his long tresses behind his broad shoulders. He noticed Trabian returning with drinks of some kind and nodded favorably.

-----------------------

Teel strode back and forth across the entryway to the Palace. He was a bit impatient, but could still see the rest of the group from outside. Every now and then he would slam his gauntlets together in a clang sound. The immense Orc did not trust this, did not trust this at all. He would make sure that the rule of "no weapons inside the building" would be held as well. Teel grinned at this, and stopped pacing. He took a few steps away from the Palace, and glances around, feeling the sudden need to explore a bit. The best thing that could happen is for him to be attacked, though he was sure that it'd be turned around to make him appear the aggressor of course. He had read that this race of Elves were surprisingly young, so it was very possible that they had yet to ethically evolve, and intread themselves in treacherous diplomacy. He bashes his armored carapace, and grinned once more. Yes, Teel would go a-courtin', and he would ride.

-------------------------------------------------

The weather around the Mountain Range grew windy as stormclouds amassed above the Dark Circle. The Ritual Incantation had begun fifteen minutes ago. Dorin had retrieved his Great Orbed Scepter, crafted in strong metals and covered with gold, ornately designed of his own engineering. Atop the scepter sat a mysterious crystal orb that seemed to be carved of obsidian, or just as opaque. Four arches ran above the Orb to set it atop the rod, which measured the length of a meter. Dorin carried it aloofly in his right hand as he stood in the middle of the Circle. The storm would indeed come, and in a single flash, he would go. He began to induce a trance with himself to join the chanting, as his power added to it would indeed allow it to succeed.

The droids detected something moving towards the door, near them. It took them only a milisecond to check their posible target, failing in the DNA test. They opened fire quickly, their scatter laser guns firing quick barrages of fire and some of them opened their wings and turned on their reflexion shields and holofields. The green and blue beams of energy bounced around the chamber, searching for its target.

"Be welcomed, ShadowPrince, this is the place where our guilt is stored beyond time, with the souls of our victims", was the greeting of the inmortal guardian inside of the chamber, pronounced in a soft female voice, yet with a sinister tone that gave the chills to all living beings that hear it. It was more like a wail than a voice, after all.

Kithail was going to answer when he heard the sound of laser fire outside the sepulchral silence of the secret chamber. What the hell. What is making the droids fire?. Maybe they're malfunctioning and reacted at my presence?. Noone followed me here, he thought fast, although most of his mind was directed to the guardian that appeared in front of him. The ShadowPrince turned pale as chalk, and his eyes opened wide. "Take me to the place where the souls of the murdered are, quickly", were his only words, trying to remain calm but with the fear reflected in his tone.

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Atheril stood there for a moment, then he smiled to DeGritz and bowed again to him. He turned and approached to Kayla, waving his hand in a slight manner to the aelosian courtiers surrounding the Iuthian woman, making them dissapear into the crowd mumbling excuses. The elf took another step towards her and extended his gloved hand. "Sorry for the inconvenience, milady, my name is Atheril, and I was asking myself if you would like to dance with me"

The droids detected something moving towards the door, near them. It took them only a milisecond to check their posible target, failing in the DNA test. They opened fire quickly, their scatter laser guns firing quick barrages of fire and some of them opened their wings and turned on their reflexion shields and holofields. The green and blue beams of energy bounced around the chamber, searching for its target.

"Be welcomed, ShadowPrince, this is the place where our guilt is stored beyond time, with the souls of our victims", was the greeting of the inmortal guardian inside of the chamber, pronounced in a soft female voice, yet with a sinister tone that gave the chills to all living beings that hear it. It was more like a wail than a voice, after all.

Kithail was going to answer when he heard the sound of laser fire outside the sepulchral silence of the secret chamber. What the hell. What is making the droids fire?. Maybe they're malfunctioning and reacted at my presence?. Noone followed me here, he thought fast, although most of his mind was directed to the guardian that appeared in front of him. The ShadowPrince turned pale as chalk, and his eyes opened wide. "Take me to the place where the souls of the murdered are, quickly", were his only words, trying to remain calm but with the fear reflected in his tone.

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Atheril stood there for a moment, then he smiled to DeGritz and bowed again to him. He turned and approached to Kayla, waving his hand in a slight manner to the aelosian courtiers surrounding the Iuthian woman, making them dissapear into the crowd mumbling excuses. The elf took another step towards her and extended his gloved hand. "Sorry for the inconvenience, milady, my name is Atheril, and I was asking myself if you would like to dance with me"

The three soon arrived in the D'Hyru holdings and disembarked.

"Thank you for your escort, ArchDuchess. I assume the Princess Aliria is present?" Four asked, looking out upon the magnificent sight that was the D'Hyru holdings.

The C'tan dropped from the ceiling, and retook its accustomed form even under a hail of fire - where the golden figure was struck the weapons bounced from it. It moved with a fluid grace and dodged to one side, toward the nearest of the droids. Its hand and lower arm suddenly became a spike, shifting through the energy field it as if it wasn't even there, it scythed through the various illusions and smashed one of the machines apart entirely.

The golden figure moved as a blur, bouncing off the walls and occasionally being hit by weapons fire to no effect. It tore into the machines, leaping against one and through its defensive shield, gesturing offhandedly toward another as it did so, an azure bolt of 'lighting' leaping from its fingertips, and bouncing through the apparent positions of several of the holofields before hitting one of the droids and then another with the power of several lascannons, it smashed through them in a blast of vaporised metals, and one of them collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings severed, the other exploded into a pillar of fiery debris.

The yngir then returned its attention to the one it was leaping toward, punching straight through its armour he reached inside and put a neat hole through one of its power generators, and it too slumped to the ground. Eight of the twelve droids remained, and Mephet'ran smiled a little, deciding that he may as well do his usual trickery now. Bolts of fire from the droids passed through his form, which seem ethereal and ghostlike now, to bounce against the walls behind him.

The staff he had used as Kopinski once more formed in his hand, but this time subtly different, it was firstly bigger, to go with this form, and metallic, and bladed. He smiled again and pirouetted on the spot, passing the blade in a glittering arc through one of the druids, as it hit draining the energy from the machine's systems. It sagged to the ground and the spiked butt of the staff smashed through its torso.

The C'tan continued with its blur of motion, chopping the limbs from another of the machines with a dancer's grace. He then decapitated another, reducing their numbers to five. With step forward and an arc of the blade again, another machine was destroyed as its weapons - designed to only affect organic creatures - bounced impotently against the C'tan.

"I tire of this," said the C'tan, and he finally demolished the remaining four with brutal efficiency, before heading out of the room.

((OOC: From IRC chat, the droids have no weapons that affect inorganic materials, so there's not much they could do to fight back, if Aelosia wants this casualty calling deleted though I'll do it.))

Olorndil smiled.
“I hadn’t thought myself in such grave danger Duke Fhilantras.” He glanced at the two figures that danced like mirages at his side; visible only briefly but certainly detectable to Elven eyes. “It is often the case with children, that they over estimate their strengths and under estimate their opponents.”

As they passed through doors, his háranmehtar like ghostly shadows behind them; he saw the Duke’s troops gathered there under false heavens. Admired their confidence and knew it was not an illusion such as the skies above.

“I’ve no doubt that your people are more than match for these Orcs, who are after all still flush with youthful ignorance,” he nodded, wondering at the unusual appearance of his host. Surely it was some unnatural ailing that the Duke suffered? “The Silmellon have reason to praise the battle skills of our cousins among the stars, we’ve glimpsed them first hand and through such skill were spared a darker fate.”

They will not leave? “Perhaps these Orcs will reconsider and ask that their tongues be removed for the lack of honour and respect that they have accorded Aelosia, her ShadowPrince and all her Elven peoples.”
He shook his head, dismissing the crude-mannered individuals he’d briefly met and turned his thoughts to more important matters. “Tell me of the Craftworld, the Houses of Aelosia and of yourself,” he said, voice soft and encouraging. “I confess that at the moment the latter of my questions intrigues me most.”

Atassar watched as Aliria drifted away from him, held her eyes as long as he was able. I would wait till the stars themselves had died, for you I could wait forever.
He sighed as she was swallowed into the crowds, as figures surrounded her; among them suitors who would try to tempt her away.
But Atassar counted himself truly blessed to have had the Princess to himself for so long; uninterrupted. Memories to be treasured.

In a slight daze he drifted across the room, already composing music within his mind that would forever speak of this moment, of Atassar and Aliria.
In this light oh star of my heart, star of blessed Aelosia; shall I bathe always even beyond this night. The melody itself spoke of Aliria, her strengths and beauty; her wisdom and her joy.
He was humming a few bars as he rejoined Fírë.

“Sa yassen inyë nînírë ná,” he told her joyfully, but the healer merely raised her delicate brows at him.

“Do not hope without leaving breath for life Atassar,” she replied after a moments silence, but Atassar was already scanning the room for glimpses of Aliria and did not hear her.

((Le Bump.))

((Le where the hell did everyone go?))

Kayla's night was turning out to be one of the better functions she'd been invited to by far. Every small detail seemed to be covered, the presentation must have taken alot of careful work to acheive and it showed by the mood of the celebrations. Currently Lord General deGritz seemed to be handling himself rather well with an Aelosian Noble (she noted the differences in armour as well as his stance) so she doubted James would need her to help him. Meanwhile she was explaining to a Aelosian Diplomat what Race Lizo is...

"... you see, Clangers have exceptional hearing and a much larger hearing range then Humans, generally we find that alot of Clangers like music and the more complex and skilled the music the more they enjoy it..." The Aelosian Noble walked over to Kayla small crowd of people and waved his hand in a internationally known sign asking for some privacy, which automatically caused all of the listens to make their excuses and leave.

He then took another step forwards andand extended his gloved hand. Kayla knew what would come next, as a couple other men had done the same earlier...

"Sorry for the inconvenience, milady, my name is Atheril, and I was asking myself if you would like to dance with me" He asked politely, it was one of the more interesting requests she had to dance. Without puase she replied.

"It would be my plesure, Atheril" She replied with a smile. She politely took hold of his hand and allowed him to lead.

The sight of the high powered sniper rifle adapted the distance and the light conditions perfectly, giving the Coronel-Commander Elfira a perfect target. That Orc was huge, and slow. Just one shot through the forehead with a mithril tipped and golvarn reinforced needle would be enough to cut his head off his shoulders, or burst Teel's brains out. The sniper looked at her target through the sight once again, surprised to see that he was leaving the area near the palace as he bashed the carapace covering his chest. Give me a reason, please, give me a reason to spill your green blood, said the Commander as one of her fingers ran through the hideous scar on her cheek, the other hand holding the impressive rifle still...

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"She's our Princess, the most beloved of the Sindarin Race, the Sindarin Jewel", said the woman in a wry tone to Delgon. "And you're right, she's young, she is only 1,457 years old. Many of us are older than she, yet she has the charisma and the wisdom to be our ruler. And I suppose you think you're the true orcs, right?. Well, I believe that your evil cousins are more, making you the exception and not the rule. But that's another matter. You're the Enheilras, right?", said the woman without any difficulty for pronouncing the strange word. "I'm glad to meet you, Enheilras, and although I'm fairly sure you're not Princess Aliria's kind of man, it will be a pleasure to introduce you to her, when she finishes to attend more important issues. My name is Baroness Cúthalion, Ephisa Cúthalion", said the woman extending her hand to Manus, surprisingly not to him to kiss it, but to shake it.

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"Yes, she's the main attraction of this party. As far as I know, if I recall correct, you already know her, Agent Four. She told me a story once about you. More about your stealth and your strong sense of honor, of course", said Celestrianna smiling at Four. Then she turned to Abriel, looking beautiful and so young, even for an elf. "Oh, Eternal Lady, you for sure deserve such title. It's a pleasure to me to be your companion today, I'm quite sure both the damsels as the gentlemen will be delighted to have such an interesting prospects as both of you in this party" she said smiling at both Cyberutopians.

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The ShadowPrince dissapeared behind the last door inside the forbidden place of the mounds as the guardian turned to hear the last sounds of the pitched battle taking place outside the huge gate. Come, stranger, come inside so I could see you, so I could smell you, and teach you to not mess with things far beyond your own understanding, whispered the sentinel, expecting the arrival of the intruder.

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"Myself?. I'm just a humble servant of the Sindarin, my Lord Olorndil, you couldn't say anything interesting about me, except that I'm one of the heads of the Noble Houses Gathering and one of the personal advisors of the ShadowPrince" said the Phaelos noble smiling broadly beneath the hood. "Many people here call me the Dark Duke, but that's mostly because I'm more conservative and traditionalist than most. I hate to see those flawed and filthy humans walking around and taking advantage of things built with our sweat and our blood. And now orcs, for Oromë's sake, placing their foots on our lands without being killed on sight as in the good times. But I've talked a lot about myself already. About the Noble Houses...", said the Duke, visibly changing the subject

One of the guards started to point to Firë nervously, whispering something to his partner's ear, as Aliria turned one more time to stare at Atassar for the last time before she was swallowed by the crowd of courtiers and attendants outside the dance floor.

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Atheril led Kayla through the dance floor in a soft and simple pace, not sure about the woman's dancing capabilities. As he grabbed her hand he found it surprisingly warm, even through the glove. He looked at the woman with interest, raising an eyebrow. "Well, so I suppose your friend is enjoying a lot his time around here. I'm maybe being arrogant and too proud, but I give you my excuses before hand. Aelosian music is exquisite, and the field that we prefer of all the elven crafts", said Atheril, surprisingly following the Kayla's unfinished conversation and turning to see the Clanger a little, before sinking his deep blue stare in Kayla's eyes again.

The Yngir stepped forward, shrinking drastically in size as he did so, returning to his human form, the corona of golden light that had accompanied his greater form fading away to nothing. The staff returned to its previous incarnation, and his feet settled on the ground. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling for something nearby, and then opened them again, setting off in the direction that the shadowprince had taken, the direction in which the sentinel waited, though he did not know of her yet, only that there was something slightly strange ahead.

"Greetings, stranger", said a voice inside the deep shadows of the chamber of the Guardian. The voice was speaking in a chilling tone, disguised under the sound of a female speaking with a beautiful, enchanting voice.

As the Yngir approached the voice looked surprised. "So, you didn't died. Good. I suppose you aren't alive, then, as me. I smell the power in you, so tell me, stranger, Who are you?".

As the final words were spoken, a beam of blue light protuded from the floor just in front of the Ctan, taking the shape of the phantasmal figure of a woman, dressed in the most splendid and flamboyant elven outfit that maybe Kopinski had ever seen. The figure, moving with a blur, pointed at Kopinski, an unearthly beauty depicted in the ghostly features.

Olorndil

As the Duke spoke, Olorndil felt a flicker run through his mind, Arisildë.
The Silmerámë in the distant docking bay was whispering through some strange fashion in his mind. It reminded the Lord of the Silmellon of her thoughts sliding into his mind through the communicator ring; yet now the ring did not rest on his brows.
He could feel her questing, a silver and discordant note running beneath his mind and drinking in his senses. It seemed logical to Olorndil that her interest lay in the Phaelos Duke and that beneath his glib words lay many secrets.

“Perhaps in time,” Olorndil murmured, speaking to both the hidden Silmerámë drifting through his thoughts and the strange Aelosian noble, “you’ll find our people worthy of your confidence. Until then, I shall ask you no more questions.” Gently he drove the Silmerámë from his mind. Peace Arisildë, there is no danger here.

Fírë

Fírë watched the love struck Atassar with quiet amusement.
How innocent the light of love colours a being. She glanced round the grand chamber, watched figures shifting and turning across the dance floor. Some danced with skilled grace, while others seemed to have stepped out from their element.

All trace of the strange void that she’d glimpsed earlier was gone, not even attuning her sight to the flow of energies availed her in this search.
Where have you taken yourself off too? Speculating on the nature of the being, she cast her eyes once more round the chamber and realised that Olorndil had vanished.

Frowning she wondered if she should go in search of him, or await his return.

Both Four and Abriel acknowledged the compliments, Four more humbly than the Elf standing besides him.

"I apologize for having to take leave of you, but I have some matters to discuss with the Princess." Four said, bowing to them both and retreating into the crowd.

"Eager man." Abriel noted almost insultingly.

After meandering for a short while, Four came upon the massive entourage that Alrira always seemed to draw. He smirked, but wiped it from his face instantly and dove into the crowd.

"Princess, it's been a while. Might I have a dance with you?" Four asked politely, though his subtle expression betrayed that he had no true interest in a dance with the beautiful Princess.

The C’tan stood there, passively, as if this were all no more out of the ordinary than a talking to a shopkeeper.

"I have many names. Thus it is best to say what I’m here to do. I am the one who has come to relieve the young of that which they do not seem to realise the inherent danger of."

As graciously as a cat Atheril reached out to Kayla outstrected hand and took hold of it as though it was made of silk. He was very attractive in a regal sort of way, his hair was probably better kept then Kayla's...

Atheril led Kayla through the dance floor, taking care not to do anything to complex, for the time being Kayla was happy with the pace as he started to talk in his smooth melodic voice... at home Kayla had spent time with Iuthian elves, but the only difference from humans was a slightly more soothing voice. Atherils voice brought images of castles and fairy tales.

"Well, so I suppose your friend is enjoying a lot his time around here. I'm maybe being arrogant and too proud, but I give you my excuses before hand. Aelosian music is exquisite, and the field that we prefer of all the elven crafts" He stated, turning to the young Clanger, who was taping his foot, smiling and watching the Lord General.

"I wouldn't worry about it, I would have to agree that this music is be far better then anything our people come up with... we're not reknowned for our musical talent." She replied. Perhaps he was slightly arrogant, but at least he knew it. Now Atheril faced her directly, making eye contact with his deep blue eyes... normally this would tell Kayla something, normally she would analyse it to understand what they were thinking... but Kayla found herself at a loss in the ocean of his eyes.

Snapping out of it for a moment she decided to move up the pace a little, she had lesson when she was young specifically because of political functions like this.

"So be it, My Lord Olorndil. Let me lead you back to the party so you could enjoy the wine and the idle chat of the nobles, and be part ofthe happiness of the Sindarin people", said the Phaelos Duke with a smile, grabbing Olorndil's arm and bringing him back to the party hall.
_____________________________________________________________

Several of the courtiers mumbled something about the rude manners of that human daring to ask the Princess' hand in a dance, but the smile that appeared in Aliria's lips forced the silence in all the sycophants following her. "Agent Four!, this is really a surprise. You are here!. Come on, please join me in the dancing, it's really a pleasure to have you here in my party", said the Princess, taking Four's hand and dragging him to the dance floor with her.
_____________________________________________________________

"Then you're here to take those stones with you, no?", said the ghostly image with a chuckle. "As all the rest of the people that came here", as she spoke those words, she let out a laugh runs wild out of her throat, and a flash of blue, ghostly light let the Ctan to look at the bone covered floor of the room.

"You have names, I had a lot of names too. But you're not an eldar, or a quendi. You're not even a stinky human. What are you, visitor. Why you want the souls of the Eldar?. Why you want to disturn the eternal dream of the dead Farseers of this Craftworld?", said the banshee again, floating to approach Kopinski.
_____________________________________________________________

Atheril smiled as Kayla started to dance faster, and noted that the woman was uncomfortable with the deep stare that he was giving her. He looked away, squeezed her hand a little with a really gentle touch and said "Then I suppose you're here to talk about some diplomatic agreements. You can talk about it with me, if you want to. I know my own about politics. If that doesn't bother you, of course".

Four began to slowly dance with Aliria to the wonderful Evlen music.

Leaning in close, he whispered, "By now I'm certain you've guessed that I'm not here just for the pleasure of dancing with you, Princess. I fear that the march of armored boots will echo throughout the Craftworld again, as war looms close by." He sighed deeply and gravely. "There was a member of the Agents, one I raised myself, who developed extraordinary psychic abilities. She was deeply disturbed, and now that she has been forced to leave the team, not by my doing, her hatred can only grow. Her power is more than enough to destabilize any powerful government, and we find ourselves at a loss of countermeasures to her abilities. This would be a simple matter, one simple assassination, but for one irrefutable fact. She is of Aelosian kin."

-- :evil: DP :evil: --

Olorndil

Olorndil thanked the Duke, watched the crooked figure slip easily away.
We know far too little of the ways and mysteries of our Aelosian kin, perhaps
it is time to rectify our ignorance.

He found Fírë and Atassar without difficulty; their presence was a shimmering
light-song at the edge of his awareness and joined them.
At Fírë's questioning glance her murmured, " 'ware the Phaelos Duke, he's very grabby!"
And smiled at the confusion his words evoked.

In the quiet, surreal forests surrounding the palace, Shalzar Ezekiel paced slowly through battling the inner demons and attempting to chase away the same reoccuring nightmare. For the umpteenth time, he screamed in rage and in horror.

Clutching his head painfully and with great sorrow and agony, Shalzar dropped to the ground, writhing in the agony of his nightmare, in deep contrast to his tranquil surroundings.

Finally, it subsided and Shalzar with great difficulty rose from the ground, attempting to dismiss his recurrent agony and horror.

"Why... Why cannot I be free... Free from the nightmares, the morasses, the quagmire, the horror, the sorrow... Why!?!"

(OOC: If you guys don't know, I'm 5CN's puppet)

Kayla smiled in reply to Atherils comment, his soothing voice slowly breaking down her naturally resistant professional attitude, like water would eventually break solid rock.

"We needn't worry about politics too much, we are at here to celebrate Aelosia's momentous achievement... though I'm sure our nations can find much in common." Kayla replied coy-fully. She squeezed his hand and smiled...

"I am what you've probably been taught to call a Yngir, though we prefer the term C'tan. Far more dignified," he said, watching the apparition with interest. Even he, for all his subtlety and deciet, told the truth from time to time.

"Aelosian kin?. I mean, Is she an Aelosian?, What's her name?...How that happened?", said Aliria to the Agent as she trembled a little at the thought of war coming to her precious home again
____________________________________________________________

Atheril smiled even more broadly, as Kayla squeezed his hand. "It's a time for joy indeed. If you want to feel happy and let your heart runs wild, Aelosia is the right place. But anyway, if you're interested in any kind of diplomatic affairs, then I can help you, that's all", he said.
____________________________________________________________

"So, a God, or a Demon, as our former Eldar mentors told us. An enemy of everything that its alive, then. But you're here not looking for the living, but looking for the dead. I'm really interested in your reasons, C'tan, as you're a being of fabled power. A legend, I should say. And I suppose you want me to let you pass. I'll let you pass, of course, as long you give me something in exchange", said the wraith in front of Kopinski, smiling broadly with her ghostly features

"Shh." Four said with a slow shake of his head. "No need to send the masses into a panic. Do not doubt my words, when I tell you it gets worse. She is not only an Aelosian, but the Colonel-Commander's heir. Sadly I still have no idea how she came into our possession, nor did I piece together the puzzle until recently. I'm...sorry, I could have warned you sooner. Be warned, this may not be a simple act of supporting us this time."

"Elfira's heir?. Does she have a sibiling or a children?. I didn't know it", said Aliria with real surprise painted in her features, only whispering the words to Agent Four as she spun a little over the dance floor. "Are you telling me that we're going to suffer an all-out attack?"

As Atheril replied, Kayla swayed in step with the music, carefully dancing to the slow artform that allowed them to dance and talk at the same time. Kayla came to her senses as Atheril hinted at the obvious, she wasn't here for her looks... or at least not directly in any case, she was brought along for her diplomatic touchl; doing all the work while James spent his evening getting to know other rulers, generally shaking hands and looking important. Kayla smiled back again, and replied.

"Then it's a good thing you're here then." She took a moment to remember her information and then took a deep breath.

"I understand that the Aelosian foriegn policy is very active when dealing with nations who don't allow their elven citizens the same rights as all the others... meanwhile at Iuthia we take care to make sure that every citizen, including elves and other sentients, gets the same civil rights." This much was, it seemed, the heart of Aelosian foriegn policy and she felt this would set the mood.

"As such we endevour to understand more about these foriegn policies so that we may further support them in the future, seeing as we feel that all sentients should have the same civil rights as others in a soveriegn nation.

"For the time being though, our information regarding elven politics is rather limited, seeing as most nations in our portion of the world don't have elves as a primary species, if at all. So our first request would be for information regarding elven politics...

"After that we feel, providing everything is satifactory to our leader that is, that we should persue some kind of non-aggression pact with the nation of Aelosia... Kayla sighed... politics was interesting to her, but in a magical invironment like this she felt that politics only removed some of that magic.

"Sorry about that, I bet politics can seem a little boring sometimes and we've not really got alot of intel on Aelosia, so we felt we should ask."

The C'tan leaned forward insulted a little by the claim that he was 'against all life,' dammed Eldar, "Not quite. But yes, what do you want?"

"So, the lady has said her wishes. Nothing too far from expectations, anyway. And nothing too difficult to attain. Indeed Aelosia has a strong policy against those who don't respect the elves as sentient and high beings, even reaching the extreme of using military power to enforce those demands. We usually try to convince those who don't treat elves as they deserve, then we just try to extract the elven population from those countries peacefully. We only resort to deadly force once those solutions are unavailable", said Atheril explaining it with a soft and slow voice, tying to maintain a perfect spelling in his statements.

"But we're not so blind to use that policy just regarding elves, as our racists views were left in the past some time ago. We regard human, and catpeople, as sentient and worth of the same considering. We despise slavery, and senseless slaughter, in the same way as we despise the mistreat of elvenkind, and try to fight against those as far as we can", he continued, spinning with grace through the dance floor.

"elven politics tend to be...Byzantine, and complex, mostly in Aelosia where we believe in a feudalist society. Aelosia is ruled mostly by a council of ten Great Noble Houses, commanded by the Royal Heir, called Phoenix Emperor or Everqueen. Right now the Royal throne is empty so, the nobles hold almost all the power. But that's only here in the Sindarin Empire. If you try to travel to Thelas, for example, you'll find that they love to be ruled by military dictators. And the Noldorin, our allies, are commanded by the Elentári, the Queen of the Stars, and use entirely different policies, although we all agree in something. elvenkind must be protected against our enemies"

"Regarding Iuthia, our info about your country is very limited, as you can see, we're a very isolated natioin. Although I think that must change, of course, and we must work for a deeper sharing between our peoples in the future. I'm sure we won't have problems signing that treaty, as long as your goverment leaves here a good envoy to make us understand its good intentions, of course", said the Aelosian noble, smiling broadly again.
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"You have everything, my little Star God. You can fulfill any wish, I suppose. I feel your power. I'm cursed thanks to a little mumbling of the last Farseer of this Craftworld, after we opened their throats. Set me free and let me occupy the throne of my people again, and I'll give you all the damned souls of those thrice-damned eldar!", said the wraith floating throught the air, approaching Mephet`ran.

The C'tan replied almost instantly, "Done, but you must show me to where his soul resides for me to do that for you. And just what should I call you?" he said.

"Elfira's heir?. Does she have a sibiling or a children?. I didn't know it", said Aliria with real surprise painted in her features, only whispering the words to Agent Four as she spun a little over the dance floor. "Are you telling me that we're going to suffer an all-out attack?"

((Remeber the little girl Elfira saved back when I was the midst of a civil war? That's her, you'd probably made the connection by now.))

"No siblings, no children. Just a little girl she named as her heir after she saved her from Cortez, who held the same name and the same features. When you ask if you're going to be attacked, I hate to frighten you, but yes. Though not in the conventional sense. Please, princess, keep your eyes and ears open, for any subtle changes in those close to you. She won't storm your Craftworld in military might, but in slow, malign evolution of the mind. Now, I need to know, should I tell Elfira?" Four responded, a trace of agitation crossing his features.

The sight of the high powered sniper rifle adapted the distance and the light conditions perfectly, giving the Colonel-Commander Elfira a perfect target. That Orc was huge, and slow. Just one shot through the forehead with a mithril tipped and golvarn reinforced needle would be enough to cut his head off his shoulders, or burst Teel's brains out. The sniper looked at her target through the sight once again, surprised to see that he was leaving the area near the palace as he bashed the carapace covering his chest. Give me a reason, please, give me a reason to spill your green blood, said the Commander as one of her fingers ran through the hideous scar on her cheek, the other hand holding the impressive rifle still...

Teel grinned. He thirsted, so he headed back to the tram station. The huge High Orc, girded in thick armor, perhaps of incantation, perhaps of magical fortification, trounced toward the space bus, and looked for the attendant. If he would need to wait, he would do so. Teel had nothing but time.

"I require transport to your city, as I am in need of nourishment and inquire what services your city may offer to one of my kind," Teel was quoted as saying. This investment would hold numerous opportunities for adventure. (Note: Teel is surprisingly fast. Unhindered, he could run comfortably at twenty miles per hour for almost half an hour. The armor would increase his fatigue by about 15%.)

"She's our Princess, the most beloved of the Sindarin Race, the Sindarin Jewel", said the woman in a wry tone to Delgon. "And you're right, she's young, she is only 1,457 years old. Many of us are older than she, yet she has the charisma and the wisdom to be our ruler. And I suppose you think you're the true orcs, right?. Well, I believe that your evil cousins are more, making you the exception and not the rule. But that's another matter. You're the Enheilras, right?", said the woman without any difficulty for pronouncing the strange word. "I'm glad to meet you, Enheilras, and although I'm fairly sure you're not Princess Aliria's kind of man, it will be a pleasure to introduce you to her, when she finishes to attend more important issues. My name is Baroness Cúthalion, Ephisa Cúthalion", said the woman extending her hand to Manus, surprisingly not to him to kiss it, but to shake it.

Manus was unaware of human customs such as a handshake or to a kiss of a woman's hand when she gave the offer. Such things were much too young to ever be recognized by a race that died out so long ago. He glanced at the hand, and for an awkward moment, there was nothing but silence. Manus recalled his youth, when he was one of the top Generals in the Elven Special Forces, above hundreds of millions of Elves that served under him, yet he was still a second class citizen in their society, as such, he was not allowed contact with any Elven Noble Society, even though he was the mastermind under the past EnheilRas strategizing the Elves victory over the Dwarves in the Great War that ended the Second Age.

"EnheilRas was a title drafted to the Leader of the High Fist Clan, long before the Elves spoke their own language, and the only tongue that existed among the four races was that invented by the Dragons. Orcish evolved from Draconic, as did the Elftongue and Dwarftongue. Though now all Orcs speak what we call gobblely, invented by the goblins, because they've all forgotten about their true ancestors, our kind," Ignex, the DanRas spoke. “But we see even those languages all teeter on extinction due to the wide use of the English Dialect of HumanSpeak. Heritage is truly to be cherished.”

“The name given by my father was Manus,” the EnheilRas informed. “As Ignex said, I am the Chief of the Clan of the High Fist, one of the 13 Clans that encompass our civilization. I am the leader of those in all clans, as I led our kind from the massacre of Balraga that drove my people to extinction. Only five hundred of us survived through the intervention of a Sphinx, but I suppose the events that took place eons ago in another world may bore you, but do remember that it was less than ten winters for us.” The majestic aura of Manuns seemed emboldened now. “I would appreciate suh a service that would allow our presence known, more so respectively than it seems it is.” Manus Trebelium glanced at Delgon, whom raised his brows and motioned his head to the exit. Manus eyes shifted twice.

Delgon was a bit put off by this female. Manus denied him to invade her mind, and Delgon would steadfastly obey his father. Delgon however, unlike Manus, could sense and predict danger. The PunRas did feel the tension, and knew that one of them were in the boundaries of a possible lethal assault, though Delgon, as young as he was, couldn’t tell which by intuition alone. He just knew better than to truth any being that was not an orc, as they would all put their own selfish gains ahead of their word’s worth. Of all the early races the Old Ones created, the Elves were the only ones to continue the barbaric practice of slavery, and Delgon, though born one of the earliest High Orcs free of their bondage, would not forget his true parents’ price. Thankful that his thoughts and emotions had been shielded from interpretation, Delgon only said, “So many years, based on this single world’s very short revolution. . . Makes time tracking just that much more worthless.”

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“This is a fate less existence. One in which power isn’t earned, it’s made. The lives of billions lay in the whims of birthright, and pulchritude contrasts deeply with the ugliness of the soul. There is disrespect of the natural world, disbelief in the ancient powers; A faithless former clergy. There is to be a harbinger of the Old Kingdom; a redeemer and destroyer, a Messenger to the Masses, to heed the call of a planet scared and forgotten. The Darkweaver hears such things, and the veins of the planet pulse for my existence!”

Since the arrival of the clans, none had changed Arda more than the smaller clans, which dealt in magic. The Golden Sky had been happily responsible for cleaning the mess that was the region and revitalizing soil, purifying water, and eliminating pollution with their massive elemental project while at the same time cultivating wild life populations and regrowing lost forests. The mountains, once bleak and dangerous, were filled with huge fertile crop fields, and hallowed with cavernous mills and underground passageways. Yet, the Dark Circle was headed in another direction. The smallest clan was also one of the most powerful, and the millions of Magic Users delved in thousands of projects and experiments, advancing their knowledge at light speed. Arda had been rejuvenated to life by the High Orcish presence, but it was time for this baby to walk.

“Arise, and let the universe know you live. Your heart beats! The life streams through your roots as it does in our veins! Show your inner light!”

Though it was the middle of the night, the entire region of Arda erupted with light that could easily been seen from space in a single instant. Earth seemed to groan, as if awaking from a deep sleep and beams of bright blue cracking energy rose from the ground and streaked across the continent like true night crawlers. Dorin had triggered the reintroduction of Ley Lines, and the Dark Circle stood at the world’s most powerful Nexus. Many of the lines could be seen from Outer Space in Orbit as they bulged with untapped magical energy.

”Let the Ritual begin!” quote the Darkweaver.

"Well, Iuthia is generally interested in the mundane politics of earth... we generally try to stand up for nations soveriegn rights, condemning those who would abuse those rights and oppress their people...

However, we feel that while it isn't good form for a nation to treat it's people badly, it's not within our rights to interfere with their internal politics... we favour diplomatic routes, trade embargoes and, if worse come to worse we are prepared to take military action in extreem circumstances... though we would like to note that we haven't had a war in 100 years, because of our sucessful diplomatics connections.

Like many nations we are prepared to defend our allies with any means required... though we have long ago got rid of our WMD as we feel they are not required now we have a system protecting us.

Meanwhile, as for Iuthia's internal politics we are, like you, very free with our civil rights, though we would like to note that we are a benevelent dictatorship. Lord General deGritz, over their is the current dictator and he's made alot of good changes for the nation.

We would have to discuss any perminant embassy details with James, but I can be pretty sure that he'd be happy about it..."

Bump

It was a brilliant column of light that pierced through the earth's atmosphere, rising the great Dorin into another plane of existence, just like before, as he appeared at the exact same area that Manus had appeared in the Aelosian port. The Mighty Dorin the Darkweaver of the Dark Circle had indeed successfully pulled off a second summoning. This was indeed unprecedented in the history of magic to be able to teleport in such ways. It opened a whole new area of exploration in the arcane for the Darkweaver. Once he returned, thousands of new projects in the manipulation of true-space could take place. It would revolutionize creation.

Dorin was very noble looking, with every trait that a High Orc should possess and more. His hair was dyed jet black, as was the custom of the Clan of the Dark Circle to distance themselves from the Golden Sky, much like the Blue Hair Clan had done. His lean, muscular body, even for a High Magus, was draped in elaborate robes covered in unrecognizable mystic symbols. His very presence allowed the mystic essence of the arcane to breathe, as it permeated his flesh like evaporating perspiration. Swift was his mind, as he had gone beyond the level of physical or vocal incantation, that he need only think, and that which was invoked had been done.

Yet under his mystic exterior shown the darker points of Dorin. Dorin was, beyond all doubt, the most blood-thirsty of all Clan Leaders. Life was something to be played with and then crushed. He was a fundamentalist in the Orcish Doctrine, and followed no law, and no rule, but that of the Doctrine. Everything uncovered within the ancient scripture was free game to Dorin, and for all his wisdom and all his knowledge, he was incredibly hard-headed in his decisions and methods to achieve his means.

Dorin had with himself a retractable cane which seemed like two bats put together. This was quite a ruse, as the cane could easily be dispatched into such objects, which we able to turn into morning stars, with 72 3" spikes protruding from each, and a single 6" long spike on the tip. It was a very dangerous and very lethal thing indeed. Dorin had no qualms with jumping in any melee. He was more than competant in the ways of the physical fight, as well as being arguably one of the most powerful Wizards in existence. Dorin the Darkweaver was the power card. Almost perfect.

He looked around the Aelosian port just once, before heading directly to the Tram station. He would be accosted, it was just too easy to spot. Such actions for such events would occur when they happened, however. . .

((Er, Aelosia is back from her trip, right?))

"Of course you should. You have my support in this affair, Agent Four, and all my help should you need it. Please go and talk to Elfira, I suppose she's around this place, as she's part of the ShadowPrince's Corps Guard. Although I don't know her exact location right now, I suppose you're capable enough of finding her", said Aliria smiling to Four and grabbing his hand for a moment between her own. "Please help her, and I'll be grateful beyond my own capabilities. Thank you again, Four, thank you".

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"My name is Aelosia, last queen of the Sindarin until the Eldar rabble tried to enslave us and take advantage of our naive appearance. They're inside that door, Star God of the Necrontyr, enclosed in their thrice damned stones. I'll let you pass, as my will and only my will alone is the guardian of that vengeful spirits, may they rot inside their stones forever. I'll exchange the pass for two things, Yngir. First, your promise of crushing the soul of that Farseer setting me free of my eternal suffering, although they told us to never trust the word of a Yngir. And the second one is that I need to know how's my people out there, as that useless rince never talk to me. Tell me, God, How are my people, my children?", said the Banshee in the middle of lightning movements of her bluish and ghostly form, the specter taking a more misty form as she advanced several steps towards the C'tan.
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"Having any Iuthians here as ambassadors will be a pleasure, as long as they're as smart, wise, beautiful and charming as you, Kayla", said Atheril displaying his entire glamour towards her. "Of course it would need the approval of both my cousin the Imperial Chancellor and of the Princess, but that can be arranged easily", he said nodding, starting to look for Lord DeGritz with his eyes.
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The attendant looked at Teel in Fear, trembling a little as the orc approached him. "You, you can't leave this place, honoured guest. Please stand still, I'll get you anything you want. do you want food?, or any beverages?", said the attendant as he tried to take a step back from the orc...

"You're wrong, but I'll leave you with your mistake. We aren't the weaklings that you call elves, we're the first sons of Ilúvatar, and some of us even met the gods once. We're to them as you're to your lesser, evil kin. The elves you met don't reach to our heel, they're mostly copies of us, flawed copies of the rest of the universe, should I say. Maybe we could have an interesting exchange, as we have only seen the lesser orcs, and you have only seen the lesser elves", said the woman smiling at the Enheilras.

((Sorry for the delay, I'm back!))

For Mark Albert, the party had passed rather slowly. He had few people to talk to, and this left him lots of time to look around.

The more he saw of this place, the more fascinated he was. They had done so much to make it beautiful and fascinating, and he continually had to remind himself that this whole world was built, not made naturally. It seemed so real... and, he reminded himself, it basically was real. His mind reeled away from the implications of an entirely synthetic planet.

He wandered around bemused by his surroundings, but finally he craved some company. One of the elves had offered to teach him their customs, what was her name? Duchess... Duchess Celestrianna, that was it. Celestrianna Paelisi. As he recalled her name, he spotted her in the crowd and started making his way towards her.

"Good evening (OOC: it is evening isn't it? I'm too far out of the loop) your Grace," he greeted her with a deep bow and a broad smile when he finally managed to reach her. "Forgive me for not seeking you out sooner. I was admiring this incredible place. I'm still interested in learning more about your race though, if you are willing to teach me."

The attendant looked at Teel in Fear, trembling a little as the orc approached him. "You, you can't leave this place, honoured guest. Please stand still, I'll get you anything you want. do you want food?, or any beverages?", said the attendant as he tried to take a step back from the orc...

"You dare hold me prisoner?" Teel questioned. This was about to get outrageous. "You forbid me to leave? Who are you to hamper the integrity of my free will? Is it your fear of my safety at the vicious talons of your society, or the safety or your civilians in response to their own blindness?"

---------------

"You're wrong, but I'll leave you with your mistake. We aren't the weaklings that you call elves, we're the first sons of Ilúvatar, and some of us even met the gods once. We're to them as you're to your lesser, evil kin. The elves you met don't reach to our heel, they're mostly copies of us, flawed copies of the rest of the universe, should I say. Maybe we could have an interesting exchange, as we have only seen the lesser orcs, and you have only seen the lesser elves", said the woman smiling at the Enheilras."

"That's where you're wrong, my dear," Delgon interjected. "According to a vast study in not only geneology, but family, as well as intense magical examinations, we've concluded that you have, until this very moment, not only never fought an orc, but you've never actually seen one. The sheer coincidence that the creature you hate so much is called an Orc is an unfortunate one, as years of study on these creatures have only directly pointed them to your own kind. The only conclusion, built on a decade of not only scientific, but also magical, experimentation can only conclude that the these Orcs are the progeny of your own kind. Your only knowledge of Orcs is a detailed breed of Elf, nothing more.

"We know a lot more about you, than you've ever known about us," Delgon continued. "I am an Orc. My Father before me was an Orc. You've never known what an Orc was, but invented the word to describe an easily manipulated, not-so-intelligent elf. We're not Elves, we're not descended from Elves, as much as the Ears may relate," Delgon said, grinned and flicked his own playfully. "Yet I assure you that despite that single relative trait, and our intertwined histories, as I am sure doesn't interest you at all, we're more than what you may think us out to be from your own experience fighting your Wars against your "Orcish" Elves."

"Settle PunRas," Ignex told Delgon. "They have arrived from a different realm, just as we have. One must be a bit more understanding. Though what you say is true, you must not deliver it so harsh a manner, it is unbefitting to one that shall bear within the High Fist one day. This dimension is one of more possibilities, as it serves as a Nexus of co-existence. The blending of histories is blurry, and there are no stories which supercede. One must always take caution, as the mixing of tongues can lead to strife on unrelated causes. It is only a coincidence that they called their Evil Elfkin Orcs, yes, but it is unreasonable to see our own species as a threat, when as their own history dictates, that their biggest threat was always in their dieties and in their genes."

The DanRas could not have been more right. Manus however, was insulted by the 'evil' remark, but he would not speak upon the sheer ignorance and blind prejudice of generations which bred such a comment. It was foolhardy to say such a thing, and it was completely stupid. In a lesser world, her ovaries would have been torn from her stomach and used to sew up the wound. "You've not seen Orcs at all," was the only thing Manus could say while keeping his temper, which had been shielded by Delgon from being noticed to be on the brink of breaking. "Though you comment on your presence in front of dieties in a very elitist way. This I do not appreciate and find it insulting that you would think us lesser if we would have not, which in itself is farce considering the lack of knowledge you have on our kind, our race, our aims, our goals, our ambitions, our motivations, our society, our culture, or our methods to achieve means."

Trabian suddenly returned from doing a few tricks, and noticed that things were heating up, and it wasn't due to him. He'd need to cool things down, and as a Fire Warlock, this would prove to be quite difficult.

---------------------------------------------

[Might wanna respond to Dorin in your Spaceport; He's not exactly nice to be around.]

Celestrianna smiled broadly, seemed to be surprised by the honest words and fantastic courtesy of the human standing in front of her. He was the one that asked her to teach their customs to him back in the docking area.

The President of Glorious Humanity. I thought they despised elves and non-humans, being very proud of their human customs, she told to herself, as she smiled again to the human dignatary.

"I'll be delighted, although I see that you have learned a lot already, after all your bow was as exquisite as the best bow from an aelosian courtier", she said, looking at him from head to toe. "So, just ask me your questions and I'll answer properly".

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"Oh, orc, shut up, Will you?. He's not guilty of that. And I repeat you, those are the rules of our home", said one of the guards. "If you don't like our rules, then you can left this place in the same fashion you came here. If you can't do anything else, please shut up, your barking is making my head hurts". As the guard spoke the attendant left to search for someone else.

"I suppose it's a matter of terminology, I guess, although I think that your people dwell in the Dark Lord Morgoth's backyard, maybe you could explain that to me with detail, if you don't mind, of course. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not trying to insult noone here. I'm too smart for that. I'm searching for new knowledge and enlightement", said the Cúthalion woman, smiling broadly to the High Orcs.

"Hey you, stop right there. What are you doing here!", shouted a guard at the sight of Dorin. As he spoke, another soldier looked at the orc and rolled his eyes. "Damn, another of those orcs. Call the high command, we have another unexpected visitor. And call a warlock, we need to close that portal right away, ok?".

Four smiled broadly. "No, Aliria, I should be thanking you. I'll go and seek out Elfira, I hope she'll understand."

He brought her hand to his lips as the music ended, and strode away from the court.

Within a few minutes, Four quietly stepped up to Elfira's sniper perch and looked out over the Craftworld's horizon.

"Hello, m'lady Elfira." He said, matching his soft smile with soft words. "I wish you were down in the court, enjoying yourself. I'd be so much easier to find you."

Four smiled broadly. "No, Aliria, I should be thanking you. I'll go and seek out Elfira, I hope she'll understand."

He brought her hand to his lips as the music ended, and strode away from the court.

Within a few minutes, Four quietly stepped up to Elfira's sniper perch and looked out over the Craftworld's horizon.

"Hello, m'lady Elfira." He said, matching his soft smile with soft words. "I wish you were down in the court, enjoying yourself. I'd be so much easier to find you."

Albert smiled in response, appraising her just as she was looking him up and down. Very pretty, and friendly as well. We should be making more effort to learn about these people. He considered what she said, thinking about what to ask first. He finally settled on some basics.

"Well, I'd like to know more about your history, and I suppose that's as good a starting place as any," he said. "I've learned some of your customs, I know who your rulers are, but I have almost no idea who you as a people are, and where you came from." He offered her another smile as he said this. Her smile was beautiful, and that made his come easier to his face.

Mephet'ran leaned forward on his staff a little and looked lost in thought for a second before replying.

“Well then Aelosia,” he paused, “your people seem to have prospered over the years, and are low the third largest and second most respected, and in my opinon, powerful, quendi ruled nation known. I was invited here to a celebration of the one billionth Aelosian citizen. Aelosia holds significant territory on Mars – Carnil, and is generally a well respected force in international plitics.

“One of the things I don’t approve of that your people do is their continuing friendship with the Kionash of Tor Yvresse, but other than that, I for one think highly of them.”

((OOC: Well, to be fair, it's possible {Indeed, I seem to remember it‼} that Aelosians have encountered the Krork, AKA Orks, in the past.))

"Oh, for the Valar, Four, you scared me", whispered in a low tone Elfira as her body trembled a little after she heard the Agent's voice, but without changing an inch the position of her rifle, her hand or her eye. She opened her comlink. "Craulthin, Lerac, both of you cover the target, I'm withdrawing from my position now", after she spoke, she withdrew the rifle from the nest and looked at Four with a wry grin in her face. "Always sneaky eh?. I suppose the nasty orc was distracting me with his screams", she said, now changing her grin into a friendly smile as she opened her arms to greet her old friend. "What brings you here, partner?"
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"Our history runs long, President, very long. Explain our history to you could cost me the rest of the week, but I'll try to lead you in the most important places", said the Duchess. "We are the descendants of the Sindarin, the elves that following Elwë didn't reach the blessed land of Aman, and didn't see the light of the sacred trees. we were called Grey Elves back then, better than our dark brothers that refused to go, but less than our High cousins, the Noldor, the Vanyar and the Teleri. Elwë, or Thingol as he was called later, was our King, and Melian the Maia from the blessed lands our beloved queen", she continued, looking deeply and directly into Albert's eyes. "After all the strife of the First Age, and after our fabled Kingdom was sacked and destroyed by our own kin, our King killed by the dwarves and our homes razed to the ground, we fled from Middle earth, wandering through the world first, and after the eldar, our cousins of the stars, found us, we wandered through the universe. They made this wonderful home for us, and after they left we inherited it and changed it to match our own lost home".

"After that the story is like any country story. Coups, revolutions, wars, conflicts, expansions. Nothing new, nothing original. Although for a real understanding of our history you would need to read an entire book. I'll give you some of them later this evening, as a gift, I hope you don't mind, we have translated them to english", she finally stopped from talking after almost fifteen minutes of continous speech. "Do you have any other questions?".
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"Are they allied with a Kionash?. Damned traitors!, my death was in vain and they finally surrendered themselves to the oppressors. Cowards, all of them", said the spectre growing in size for a moment, a crimson red aura surrounding her for a moment. "Although I'm pleased to see that they have grow strong and powerful, so we can exact our revenge upon the eldar someday. They'll pay, all of them, for what they did to us"

"Great service you have did to me, Ct'an, and I no longer believe in the lies of the Eldar, now go, you have free pass to the forbidden chamber. And if you fulfill your promise and our deal of freeing me, you'll have a secure and loyal ally at your side, Stargod, I'm sure of it", said the Banshee, returning to her "normal" state.

"Oh, for the Valar, Four, you scared me", whispered in a low tone Elfira as her body trembled a little after she heard the Agent's voice, but without changing an inch the position of her rifle, her hand or her eye. She opened her comlink. "Craulthin, Lerac, both of you cover the target, I'm withdrawing from my position now", after she spoke, she withdrew the rifle from the nest and looked at Four with a wry grin in her face. "Always sneaky eh?. I suppose the nasty orc was distracting me with his screams", she said, now changing her grin into a friendly smile as she opened her arms to greet her old friend. "What brings you here, partner?"
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"Our history runs long, President, very long. Explain our history to you could cost me the rest of the week, but I'll try to lead you in the most important places", said the Duchess. "We are the descendants of the Sindarin, the elves that following Elwë didn't reach the blessed land of Aman, and didn't see the light of the sacred trees. we were called Grey Elves back then, better than our dark brothers that refused to go, but less than our High cousins, the Noldor, the Vanyar and the Teleri. Elwë, or Thingol as he was called later, was our King, and Melian the Maia from the blessed lands our beloved queen", she continued, looking deeply and directly into Albert's eyes. "After all the strife of the First Age, and after our fabled Kingdom was sacked and destroyed by our own kin, our King killed by the dwarves and our homes razed to the ground, we fled from Middle earth, wandering through the world first, and after the eldar, our cousins of the stars, found us, we wandered through the universe. They made this wonderful home for us, and after they left we inherited it and changed it to match our own lost home".

"After that the story is like any country story. Coups, revolutions, wars, conflicts, expansions. Nothing new, nothing original. Although for a real understanding of our history you would need to read an entire book. I'll give you some of them later this evening, as a gift, I hope you don't mind, we have translated them to english", she finally stopped from talking after almost fifteen minutes of continous speech. "Do you have any other questions?".
____________________________________________________________

"Are they allied with a Kionash?. Damned traitors!, my death was in vain and they finally surrendered themselves to the oppressors. Cowards, all of them", said the spectre growing in size for a moment, a crimson red aura surrounding her for a moment. "Although I'm pleased to see that they have grow strong and powerful, so we can exact our revenge upon the eldar someday. They'll pay, all of them, for what they did to us"

"Great service you have did to me, Ct'an, and I no longer believe in the lies of the Eldar, now go, you have free pass to the forbidden chamber. And if you fulfill your promise and our deal of freeing me, you'll have a secure and loyal ally at your side, Stargod, I'm sure of it", said the Banshee, returning to her "normal" state.

Taggy... Hmm very interesting indeed

"Having any Iuthians here as ambassadors will be a pleasure, as long as they're as smart, wise, beautiful and charming as you, Kayla", said Atheril displaying his entire glamour towards her. "Of course it would need the approval of both my cousin the Imperial Chancellor and of the Princess, but that can be arranged easily", he said nodding, starting to look for Lord DeGritz with his eyes.
_____________________________________________________________


"Why thankyou, Lord Atheril. I'm sure our ambassadors will prove themselves to be quite an asset to your people." She watched his subtle movements as he made sure to show Kayla his best side... it was almost an artform in its self the way it didn't look like he was doing it on purpose, making it look natural.

"Feel free to bring it you with Lord General deGritz himself, it looks like he's getting lost again anyways, he'll probably head off to the bar soon to rally himself." Kayla smiled slightly, James was a predictable man... he may have a mind like rock but he follows certain patterns of thought and he didn't like the contrainst of political functions like this.

James himself wasn't really doing much, currently he was talking to another nations ambassador trying to look interested. He was doing most of the listening and was making unfortunate "I'm listening" body language which men occasionally try to do when they want people to think they are paying their utmost attention. Reading his mind may be impossible to some of the most power people around but his body was currently giving all the answers...

((Hey Aelosia, did the Cover-Up thread disappear? I hate it when that happens.))

"It's my job to be sneaky, Elfira." Four responded with a smirk, embracing his friend in a hug. "Unfortunately, dire news brings me to your lovely home. One of the Agents has been moved to a land where she will be...less dangerous. Agent One tells me you saw her, correct? Do you notice anything about her?"

"Oh, orc, shut up, Will you?. He's not guilty of that. And I repeat you, those are the rules of our home", said one of the guards. "If you don't like our rules, then you can left this place in the same fashion you came here. If you can't do anything else, please shut up, your barking is making my head hurts". As the guard spoke the attendant left to search for someone else.

"How can I not leave if you were to keep me from boarding this ridiculous machination? Your incessant babble does nothing to hide the issues of hatred that you know exist. Your fear of the unknown distracts you from your logic. I can see through you," Teel said.

"I suppose it's a matter of terminology, I guess, although I think that your people dwell in the Dark Lord Morgoth's backyard, maybe you could explain that to me with detail, if you don't mind, of course. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not trying to insult noone here. I'm too smart for that. I'm searching for new knowledge and enlightement", said the Cúthalion woman, smiling broadly to the High Orcs.

"We do not dwell in his backyard. It's our region and under our control," Trabian intervened communicatively. "We came just in time. Raat must have seen the mess the place was, and given it as a Gift to the Golden Sky. Oooh yes, do not be mistaken by my words, but Arda is our region, and it is almost completely under our control and our influence. The air, the sea, and the land are all beckoned to our call. Arda is very much alive now, and unlike any continental region on that planet." Trabian then burst into a snicker about the Elf's grammatical double-negative after implying that she was excessively intelligent. The irony was just too much and made her look like a fool.

Delgon shushed Trabian from telling a bit too much, "Mind your tongue Warlock. I believe the wine has flushed through your brain and made you loose in conscious," he said scornfully. "What, exactly, do you want detailed on the Clan's lands? All the Clans live in different parts of the continent, even I have not seen it all, as I am stationed between the Dorn Forest and Orca, the capitol."

"Hey you, stop right there. What are you doing here!", shouted a guard at the sight of Dorin. As he spoke, another soldier looked at the orc and rolled his eyes. "Damn, another of those orcs. Call the high command, we have another unexpected visitor. And call a warlock, we need to close that portal right away, ok?".

Dorin glanced back at the guard and then laughed. "Speak little, and know truth," said the Darkweaver, and waved his hand in the area. The air became thin, and all sound was impossible to travel through within the spaceport. THe entire area became silenced. Dorin grinned, and hovered over to the tram station. He could sense Trabian, as there was so little magic here. Dorin sensed a strong supernatural presence, and that of undead. The Great Darkweaver found this peculiar at most, and slightly humorous that such creatures would so enthusiastically delve into necrotic magicks.

Dorin placed his feet upon the tram station, and opened his arms. His entire body illuminated as blinding light shot out of every one of his pores. His arms spread out, his skull crooked up, and his eyes opened wide, shooting great beams of light as it enveloped his physical body, and evaporated his flesh, turning him into an Ethereal Aspect of his former self. The Great Dorin then exited out of the Space Port, traveling at Great Speeds towards the Palace.

30 seconds after he left, the Silence of the area dissappated.

http://img6.photobucket.com/albums/v19/BrianJ/Galf-L.jpg

Name: Galf

Title: Master

Country of Origin: Antanjyl

Number of Escorts: 2

Number of Guards: 6

Favourite Food: Meat with assorted mushrooms

Do you need spacefaring transportation? We are having the arrangements met by our friend, Nili.

Any special requests: That he not be seated directly near any humans, their smell disgusts him.


Galf sat patiently in his seat aboard the Nili Gondola as it approached Aelosia, his human servants(slaves) kneeling at his feet, waiting to take care of his every command. The Triumvirate's ship was much larger than the meager Gondola, but Galf would need to make due, it wasn't very often that HE be invited to a party, especially by elves.

"This might actually be rather fun..." Galf hisses softly as the Gondola landed, and he, along with his 2 human escorts(shaved human slaves) and 6 large bodyguards of varying races(1 orc, 2 humans, 2 demons, 1 elf, all viciously scarred by claw marks), "Don't speak with anyone but me unless absolutely necessary."

"I don't mind at all," Albert answered. "I would be happy to have the books." He listened closely to everything she said, though his human mind reeled away from the length of the history she was describing. These beings had been keeping records for many, many millenia it sounded like. When she concluded he was for a moment at a loss for any further words, trying to imagine what kind of civilization could accurately track their existence as far back as these elves did. His smile slipped, replaced by a thoughtful expression, but when he looked back at her it returned brightly.

"Wow, that's far beyond any records I've ever heard of before. I'm very impressed," he said truthfully. "How do you feel about humans? I understand that this party is supposed to help open the doors between our races, but how much is this change being welcomed?"

(All info on the triumvirate can be found here (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=138697&highlight=))

Name: Darius, Zephon, and Yurka(No relation-Drake Yurka)

Title: The Autocratic Triumvirate

Country of Origin: The Zeres System(Nili)

Number of Escorts: 9

Number of Guards: 16

Favourite Food: Darius=Veal, Zephon=Salad, Emperor Vugal Yurka=Shrimp

Do you need spacefaring transportation? No

Any special requests: N/A


The Triumvirate's prized travel vessel, "The Red Blue" slowed down as it reached it's destination. Looking out the windows, the triumvirate members looked down at Aelosia before approaching the landing shuttles. They were in their best suits, except for Zephon, who was still wearing the black robe and white mask.

"Well well well... Aelosia... This will be interesting..." Zephon's large cloak silently drifted with him as he entered his shuttle with the cult members of his order. They were as surprised as the rest of the crew to hear Zephon's remark, but it was unimportant. The first shuttle steadily flew down to the planet's surface.

"Well this is going to be some good diplomacy, eh Yurka?" Darius turned and faced Yurka, who had a surprised look at his face at what Zephon said, "Yeah, he sounded more zealous than usual."

"Yes I agree sir Darius... Maybe Zephon is an elf?" Yurka smirked evily, "And yes, this should be good for our diplomatic relations. It never hurts to grease the cogs of friendship in case they should begin to rust." Yurka entered his shuttle before Darius could say anything in return.

"Bah! Damn Yurkan!" Darius looked around, noticing that he was talking to himself, "Grr..."

--------------------------------------------

The ships all landed in a straight row, the three triumvirate members getting out along with their escorts and guards. Darius and Yurka immediately looked towards Zephon, but he seemed the same as usual. But that wasn't saying much since he was always covered in robes.

"Fasionably late?" Darius mused as the three walked forward towards the party.

Mephet'ran managed to, with a little polite goodbye, part ways, for now, with the queen, and he headed down into the vault containing the souls of the Eldar.
Kithail waited inside, surrounded by the ghostly and bluish light that came from the eldar stones, still praising to those souls for forgiveness. The C'tan quietly entered the forbidden chamber, and took a long look around at its contents quite, quite pleased with himself. Hundreds of millions. Ideal. Kithail turned around looking at Mephet'ran with surprise, after hearing an almost imperceptible sound, placing his hand over the hilt of the sword, in his eyes a bright red light of anger and surprise

"What are you doing here?"
Mephet'ran smiled a little, "I do believe I'm about to rob you," he paused, "Well, actually I'm here to deal with a little curse, something that seems rather overdue..."
"This place is forbidden to any Aelosian, even more to visitors, you should leave this place, now"

Mephet'ran smiled, and took a step forward, "I will, when I'm done..."
Kithail let his hand slide over the hilt of the sword, visibly nervous, yet determined, placing himself between the Ctan and the stones. Mephet'ran barely seemed to notice this, looking around, "I don't suppose you know where they put the farseers?" he asked, "It would save me some time."
"I don't know anything. And I repeat, you shouldn't be here. That's the last time I'm going to say it."

Mephet'ran frowns a little, "That's a shame. And good," he stepped forward again walking toward Kithail slowly, "Please do be quiet, I must find the right one, and I'd like to concentrate..."

"Leave now, damned mockery of a Istari, Telgonthrind warned me about you, gravedigger, Starlich!"
Kithail reaches for his comlink and turns all frequencies on wit his right wrist as he draws his blade with his left
Mephet'ran idly gestured, and the commlink lets out a loud static crackle as it overloads. The sword he didn't react to at all, 1 "Please, I have no intention of harming you..."

"Then leave this place, it's my duty to guard this stones, and I cannot fail" he says, dropping his wrist comm as it was useless
"That I have no intention of doing either," he said, stepping within Kithail's reach.
Kithail reacted taking a step back, still having the Ctan just in the edge of the reach of his sword, slashing with Aranrth to keep Kopinski far from him
Mephet'ran stepped forward again, not breaking his stride as Aranr th passed through his ghostly form, hitting nothing.

"Damn, unnatural being, aberration of the universe!"
Kithail launched his fist against the Mephet'ran face, trying to land a punch in his face

Mephet'ran smiled a little as the hand passed through him, "Oh, now that's bad, I don't say such things about your people."
"Then why are you trying to steal our treasures and find our secrets?"
Mephet'ran wandered off in the direction of the stones, "Because I have a use for them..."

"You have a use for everything. don't you?. Then the eldar were right after all"
"Not at all, and honestly, how much better are you? Keeping one's own queen isolated for, what is it, centuries? Millennia?"
"I didn't do it. The dying farseer did. And I was too young, just a young soldier. What was I supposed to do. And she's a banshee, every living being that hears her voice dies. Isolation was the only solution"
Kithail is growing visibly nervous, not sure about what to do
Mephet'ran laughed a little, "You have much to learn about the Eldar and the Immaterium, their magic is bound to the ability of their soul to sustain it..."

"Look, if you want to take those ghost from here you would doing me a favor, although I'm sorry about what we did to that people. We killed them, all of them, even women and children, and even today their ghosts haunt our home"
Mephet'ran smiled a little as he walked, looking over the stones, looking for the most recently placed ones, "Yes, I shall take them, but first, I have a promise to keep..."
"Which one are you looking for?"

"The farseer of course. The last of them."
"The one that cursed the Queen?"
"Yes," he said, deciding not to try any sarcastic wittisisms here.
"Well, he's not here. I find that stone in Ma'El possession when I entered his chambers, and I kept it separated from the rest"
This stopped the C'tan, and he turned around to look at Kithail, "Where is it then?"

"Here" Kithail opened a little compartment of his wraithbone armor, just over his chest. "I keep it with me all the time. But..."
Kithail pulls out a bright blue stone, glowing with a surprisingly blue light
Mephet'ran dephased, and extended his hand, to recieve it, "Be thankful you never wore it..."
"Ma'El used it to extend his power, I don't know how, but... First I need to know what will you do with it"
Mephet'ran leans forward, "And did he wear it?"
"Yes, he did. What exactly this thing can do?"
"This... explains a great deal about what I've heard of his behaviour. They can often be used to posess anyone foolish enough to wear them..."
"Well, he was glad of get rid of the thing in exchange for his life, but I don't think he behaved like a farseer anyway"

"And how do you think a farseer behaves?"
"Like Telgonthrind. He was a fair and good man"
Mephet'ran smiles a little, "If you say so, in any case..." he extended his hand again.
"What are you going to do with the stone"
"End the curse, of course, that is what I promised Aelosia, and that is what I shall do."
"Why?, Why are you going to do that?"
"Because I happen to like your species, and would quite like to see her freed,"6 he sounded impatient now. "You may have it back when I am done, it will only take a moment."

Kithail stopped for a moment pondering giving the stone to the Ctan, until finally he extend his hand and let the stone falls in Mephet'ran hand.
Mephet'ran took the stone in his hand, placing it on his palm ceremonially; he shot a smile at the shadowprince, and then watched the stone carefully. Its inner light seemed to grow, a new colour appearing at its heart purest white, growing in intensity until the entire stone shone brightly, like a lantern. It seemed to burn from the inside for a moment, before shattering with a loud crack, the blue light within it fading as its occupant was forced out. To the warp and the thrice-dammed servants of She-Who-Thirsts.


Mephet'ran then gave the shattered object back to him and walked through him, heading toward the doors again, eager to see the results.
Kithail stays just motionless there, faintly surprised.
Mephet'ran called out as he left, "One Keigh, one problem, no Keigh... no problem."

A surprisingly beautiful elven woman, not a young one, yet the wisdom and the cunning of her mind depicted in her eyes making her even more beautiful; stood in the hall, and turned to see the C'tan as he returned, "You did it. I owe you everything, StarGod"

"Now, Ask me for a favor, and I'll help me. Tell me, Yngir, What can I do for you?"
Mephet’ran smiled a little, he wasn't particularly interested in her looks, more in her mind. "Well, that I suppose is true, but it's hardly something I plan on claiming. Firstly, I think we should see you back on your throne, there's a rather good opportunity for that now actually, the celebration I mentioned before..."

The ShadowPrince was behind Mephet'ran, totally amazed to see the ancient queen standing there as if she never died in the rebellion centuries ago. He kneeled almost instantly, and lowered his head to Aelosia.
"That would a perfect time, although I have first to see what I should do with this little pet that came here several times down here to bother me", she says pointing at the ShadowPrince.
"And... Do you believe that they will give me the power without resistance?"

"Well, that is up to you, but I'm certain he could be useful in some way. As for that... I'm unsure, but doubtless he," the C'tan gestured to Kithail, "would be helpful in that regard."

"In which one? He consorted with eldar, and came here to ask them for forgiveness. Little pup, I suppose he at least deserves a beating."

"He can at least verify your identity..."

"And who will have the will to challenge me in that? I suppose there's several of them that knew me before I died. I'll keep him alive, but I'll punish him for what he did"
"Of course..."
"Well, then let me go out of this stinking crypt and reclaim what's mine, then"
"Indeed..."
Aelosia started to walk out from the crypt, closing the huge doors of the eldar crypt with a wave of her hand, leaving the ShadowPrince inside there. "I'll leave you with your former friends until you have learned your lesson, then I'll be back for you. Now, Ask me for a favor, and I'll help me. Tell me, Yngir, What can I do for you?"

Mephet’ran smiled a little, he wasn't particularly interested in her looks, more in her mind. "Well, that I suppose is true, but it's hardly something I plan on claiming. Firstly, I think we should see you back on your throne, there's a rather good opportunity for that now actually, the celebration I mentioned before..."

The ShadowPrince was behind Mephet'ran, totally amazed to see the ancient queen standing there as if she never died in the rebellion centuries ago. He kneeled almost instantly, and lowered his head to Aelosia.
"That would a perfect time, although I have first to see what I should do with this little pet that came here several times down here to bother me", she says pointing at the ShadowPrince.
"And... Do you believe that they will give me the power without resistance?"

"Well, that is up to you, but I'm certain he could be useful in some way. As for that... I'm unsure, but doubtless he," the C'tan gestured to Kithail, "would be helpful in that regard."

"In which one? He consorted with eldar, and came here to ask them for forgiveness. Little pup, I suppose he at least deserves a beating."

"He can at least verify your identity..."

"And who will have the guts to challenge me in that?. I suppose there's several of them that knew me before I died. I'll keep him alive, but I'll punish him for what he did"
"Of course..."
"Well, then let me go out of this stinking crypt and reclaim what's mine, then"
"Indeed..."
Aelosia started to walk out from the crypt, closing the huge doors of the eldar crypt with a wave of her hand, leaving the ShadowPrince inside there. "I'll leave you with your former friends until you have learned your lesson, then I'll be back for you..."

((Hello out there!?))

((Hello out there!?))

((Hello out there!?))

(It's all spooky because Aelosia's mad at me)

"I saw her indeed, Four. She was strange. I was kind of amazed of seeing an Elven Agent, and I felt some strange psychic wave of energy around her", said the elven commader, shaking her head in a dismissive manner. "I saw her as a potential danger, first time that I see another elf as a threat, but I thought in that moment that I was too nervous, so I didn't pay too much attention to that fact. Can you please tell me where she came from?", she asked, visibly worried by the Agent's words.
____________________________________________________________

The Queen quickly left the crypt, leaving to finding more appropiate clothes than the once luxurious now ragged outfit she was wearing. Leaving the Forbidden Mounds, she entered the D'Hyru states, quite lost in the infinity of the Craftworld. Finally she found one of the cabins, guarded by a soldier dressed in the armor of the Eldar Dire Avengers. What happened next to it haunted the Queen Aelosia's dreams for the rest of her life. Mistaking the guard by her most hated enemy, she finished him with a chant of power when the guard ordered her to stop. She was already confused by the fact that th guard spoke Sindarin, and she laughed just to calm down her nerves until the torn helmet of the guard slip off his head, revealing the face of the dead Sindarin Captain.

She was shocked beyond her own senses, realizing that she had killed another of her own kin for the first time in her long life. She never faced the drow or the Dark Eldar as the rest of her kin. The pain of the elf invaded her own essence, and created an enormous wave of pain to herself, as well it created rage and impotence.

She kneeled in front of the corpse for an unknown time, grieving and praying for forgiveness, as her mistake created a gap between her and her inner beliefs. She felt the blood of the Maiar inside boiling in dissaproval of her acts, and the grief escalates another step, until she finally rose, wiping the tears out of her eyes, finally decided to look for the dress and face the challenges in front of her.

She came out of the cabin, by coincidence the cabin of the current Princess, wearing a golden dress, tailored with gold-filled silk, with sandals, a circlet and the rest of the appropiate jewelry. Finally looking like a queen, like what I really am, she thought, leaving the cabin and heading for the party.

Any other guards she encountered let her pass, such was her grace and looks that noone of them tried to stop her, convinced that she was one of the important nobles attending the party, although noone of them recognized her, being too young elven soldiers.

Finally she arrived to the core of the party, the long banket table and the dance floor, where most of the guests and the important dignataries were gathered around the figure of the new Princess, her usurper. She walked to the place were the Princess stood, with a sure pace, looking everyone over her shoulder.

"Oh, for the Valar, isn't she...?", said Atheril, distracted from the deep stare that was fixed in the Iuthian woman, then suddenly he placed one knee in the floor, lowering his head to stare at the floor, leaving Kayla with the words in her mouth.

Suddenly several of the guests did the same thing, including the Cúthalion woman speaking with the orc dignataries, that suddenly bowed as the Queen passed by her side, lowering her head a lot.

Everybody, including the guests, suddenly feel silent as the Lost Queen stood in front of the New Princess. Celestrianna was frozen too, turning just for a moment to the President of Glorious Humanity. "We're in troubles, you should try to stay out of this, although...", she whispered to him before bowing.

Trabian and Delgon felt an eerie sense about this woman. Something indeed was supernatural in her aura. Delgon's own heightened senses could allow him to smell magic and psychic energies on anything, and Trabian was in tune with the essence of the ethereal.

Yet, the gaudy get-up was nothing short of obvious as to whom this person may be, and as a custom, since they would not bow, nor lower their head to any single being, no matter their deific qualities, Manus nodded in acknowledgement as she passed. Trabian and Delgon did the same, yet they kept their eyes opened. Something here was amiss, and they were sure it was going to fold open pretty soon like an Episode of Cops burst through the palace and saw the ShadowPrince coming out with his shirt off and a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels with a black eye shouting that nothing had happened, when after Aliria, dressed in nothing but a nightgown, runs out to shout how much of a shit-eater the ShadowPrince is and how he doesn't have a job. But then again, that's the media for you.

The High Orcs, of course, would make no vocal comment, but each of them knew of what importance this being served. Perhaps they'd get more recognition from this being.

The former queen, Elurín, Daughter of Dior the Thingol's heir, Son of Lúthien and Beren, the mixed blood of three races. The elves, the Edain and the Maiar of the Blessed Realms, stood in front of the tiny new Princess of the Sindarin in the last age of their former glory. She looked at the orcs and arched an eyebrow, yet she didn't meka any comments.

The battle of the opposed wills lasted almost three minutes, each of the women staring at each other, until finally Aliria knelt in front of Elurín, Aelosia, the last Everqueen of the Sindar, the one that guided the people of Doriath to the stars, the one that gathered them after the War of Wrath and helped them to find the Eldar and escape to another world, to another reality.

As the Princess knelt, the Lost and New Queen smiled, as her hands took the circlet of the Princess' forehead and placed it over her own. Taking a deep breath, she acknowledged how easy this was after all, and how now the unquestioned authority over all the Empire was hers. Finally she spoke to the audience, eager to see the effect of her first words to her people.

"I'm Elurín, the last descendant of Thingol and Melian, named Aelosia after the Third Age. I'm the last Everqueen of the Sindar, and in my blood runs the essence of the fair Lúthien. I'm your true ruler, as your own nobles acknowledged, from now on I'll be your Everqueen. And this party will be the beginning of my coronation. From now on you will obey me, and treat me with the repect I deserve. Absolute respect, with no exceptions. Raise now, and let the party begin".

Four put his hand lightly on Elfira's cheek, noting the worry in her features.

"Yes, m'lady, I will tell you, I have come here to do just that. Certainly you remember so long ago, when you found a lonely little Elven girl, sliver hair flowing like yours, in one of Cortez's concentration camps? You asked her name, she replied 'Elfira.' Your heir, Elfira, your heir is Agent Eighteen." He sighed heavily, the faint smile he always had in his close friend's presence totally absent. "I know how no Elf wishes to go against their own kin, what a horrendous sin it is, much less the one they deem their heir, but I have to ask you to help me stop her. She is reckless, and a great danger to Cyberutopia, Aelosia, and herself. She has some plan, I can feel she wants to destabilize the close relationship our two homelands have. I beg you..."

Four put his hand lightly on Elfira's cheek, noting the worry in her features.

"Yes, m'lady, I will tell you, I have come here to do just that. Certainly you remember so long ago, when you found a lonely little Elven girl, sliver hair flowing like yours, in one of Cortez's concentration camps? You asked her name, she replied 'Elfira.' Your heir, Elfira, your heir is Agent Eighteen." He sighed heavily, the faint smile he always had in his close friend's presence totally absent. "I know how no Elf wishes to go against their own kin, what a horrendous sin it is, much less the one they deem their heir, but I have to ask you to help me stop her. She is reckless, and a great danger to Cyberutopia, Aelosia, and herself. She has some plan, I can feel she wants to destabilize the close relationship our two homelands have. I beg you..."

((Le Bumpo! Please?))

"The...girl?. You're not kidding, right?. Did you trained her?, Did you turned her into a soldier?. Oh, for the Valar, that was the last thing I wanted for her. She truly has turned into what I feared, Four", said Elfira, shaking her head in a very sad way.

"Of course I'll help you, as far as I have the leave from my superiors. You know you have an steadfast companion in me, Four. As always", she said, now smiling a little, grabbing his forearm in a friendly, yet firmly, way. "I'll fix what I should did back then. It's all my fault, I had to take care of her and I didn't. Let's see, Four. Where should we start?"

Four shook his head slowly and smiled. "The blame is never place upon one one pair of shoulders, my friend. I was wrong to make her into a fighter, against your wishes. All the same, I thank you for your loyalty. There is little time to waste here. We must depart for Cyberutopia at once, and search for your heir. I doubt we can stop her, but I hope we can minimize the damage she causes. Nor you or I have psychic abilities, and I fear the other Cyberutopian psychics are already under her sway. I...really don't know what to do about her..."

"Then leave at once. We're doing nothing here, let me arrange a couple of things regarding my men. I promise you to stop her or die trying", said Elfire gathering her equipment in a very fast fashion.

"Should I find a shuttle or did you bring your own transport?", she asked, smiling a little at Four.

Four couldn't help but smile at Elfira. She was so eager to help him, even throw her life away. He couldn't ask for more from a person like her.

"A shuttle..." The black clad Agent pondered for a moment about the Eternal Lady's trip home. "No, we can take mine. Well, it's not really mine, but I can...borrow it. We'd better get going. And Elfira? Don't tell anyone where you're going. I'm not doing this with the government's permission, and I could easily be labeled a rogue commander if they find out. Only you and Aliria know, and I'd like to keep it that way. I cannot thank you enough."

Four couldn't help but smile at Elfira. She was so eager to help him, even throw her life away. He couldn't ask for more from a person like her.

"A shuttle..." The black clad Agent pondered for a moment about the Eternal Lady's trip home. "No, we can take mine. Well, it's not really mine, but I can...borrow it. We'd better get going. And Elfira? Don't tell anyone where you're going. I'm not doing this with the government's permission, and I could easily be labeled a rogue commander if they find out. Only you and Aliria know, and I'd like to keep it that way. I cannot thank you enough."

"You're without doubt the best mannered soldier I've ever met. You have even better manners than me, although I'm not exactly a Lady", said Elfira before bursting in a long, high-spirited laugh. "Well, I won't tell anyone, if you have the permission of the PRincess, then I can go with you without telling anything to noone", she continued, picking up her rifle and the rest of her equipment. "I suppose we'll travel light. And no need to thank me, old fighting partners are friends, and friends doesn't need that kind of courtesy".

"I'm ready, let's take your fabled shuttle to Cyberutopia", she said, patting Four's shoulder.

Four grinned broadly. "I have to keep up appearances, after all. I'd pick you staying Elfira over you becoming a Lady any day, I don't have the best of experiences with them. All right, we've spent enough time here."

Four dropped from the roof and landed on the ground below, kneeling slightly with the impact. Within a few sparse minutes, the shuttle's engines were glowing with a warm silver, and the sleek craft bolted out of the Craftworld and into a gorgeous blue-white vortex.

---

The shuttle settled down on a rocky precipice and hummed impatiently for a moment before it's engines wound down into darkness. Four stepped out and offered his hand to Elfira. The two looked out at the gray masses of frigid rock through the cloak of shadow cast over them by the rocky crags above them and the gloomy Hokkaido twilight.

"She's out here...somewhere..." Four remarked solemnly.

((I'm thinking I'll create a new thread for this sidestory, to keep this thread on topic.))

Four grinned broadly. "I have to keep up appearances, after all. I'd pick you staying Elfira over you becoming a Lady any day, I don't have the best of experiences with them. All right, we've spent enough time here."

Four dropped from the roof and landed on the ground below, kneeling slightly with the impact. Within a few sparse minutes, the shuttle's engines were glowing with a warm silver, and the sleek craft bolted out of the Craftworld and into a gorgeous blue-white vortex.

---

The shuttle settled down on a rocky precipice and hummed impatiently for a moment before it's engines wound down into darkness. Four stepped out and offered his hand to Elfira. The two looked out at the gray masses of frigid rock through the cloak of shadow cast over them by the rocky crags above them and the gloomy Hokkaido twilight.

"She's out here...somewhere..." Four remarked solemnly.

((I'm thinking I'll create a new thread for this sidestory, to keep this thread on topic.))

Four grinned broadly. "I have to keep up appearances, after all. I'd pick you staying Elfira over you becoming a Lady any day, I don't have the best of experiences with them. All right, we've spent enough time here."

Four dropped from the roof and landed on the ground below, kneeling slightly with the impact. Within a few sparse minutes, the shuttle's engines were glowing with a warm silver, and the sleek craft bolted out of the Craftworld and into a gorgeous blue-white vortex.

---

The shuttle settled down on a rocky precipice and hummed impatiently for a moment before it's engines wound down into darkness. Four stepped out and offered his hand to Elfira. The two looked out at the gray masses of frigid rock through the cloak of shadow cast over them by the rocky crags above them and the gloomy Hokkaido twilight.

"She's out here...somewhere..." Four remarked solemnly.

((I'm thinking I'll create a new thread for this sidestory, to keep this thread on topic.))

Four grinned broadly. "I have to keep up appearances, after all. I'd pick you staying Elfira over you becoming a Lady any day, I don't have the best of experiences with them. All right, we've spent enough time here."

Four dropped from the roof and landed on the ground below, kneeling slightly with the impact. Within a few sparse minutes, the shuttle's engines were glowing with a warm silver, and the sleek craft bolted out of the Craftworld and into a gorgeous blue-white vortex.

---

The shuttle settled down on a rocky precipice and hummed impatiently for a moment before it's engines wound down into darkness. Four stepped out and offered his hand to Elfira. The two looked out at the gray masses of frigid rock through the cloak of shadow cast over them by the rocky crags above them and the gloomy Hokkaido twilight.

"She's out here...somewhere..." Four remarked solemnly.

((I'm thinking I'll create a new thread for this sidestory, to keep this thread on topic.))

(I'll wait until you make the new thread to keep this up, then. Send me the link by TG, as usual)

i hate u all u cock suckers

"Hello my nation may be young but one day it may be large and it better start afiliating with the big wigs now.

Name: Gandrial

Title: Supreme Ruler

Country of Origin: United Socialist States of Moovadia

Number of Escorts: 1

Number of Guards: 10 (There has been alot of assasination attempts)

Favourite Food: New York Steak

Do you need spacefaring transportation? No

Any special requests: That security be at its highest

Reacting on political instincts, Albert had bowed along with everyone else when the new elf entered the hall. He stayed bowed as she spoke with Princess Aliria, although his eyes were watching everything that was going on. He wanted to ask Celestrianna what was happening, but those questions could wait until whatever was transpiring was over.

After the elf took the circlet and made her speech, Albert straightened again. He schooled his face back to it's previous smile as he turned back to Celestrianna.

"What exactly just happened?" It probably wasn't the most diplomatic way to phrase the question, but it was exactly what he was wondering.

Celestrianna leaned over Albert, and whispered in his ear. "You see that elf, right?. She was our Queen several centuries ago, she was the one that took us to the space. She's the one that forced the eldar to take us to the stars. She learned and forced us to learn about technology and about modernizing our ways. Finally she conducted us to a rebellion against the eldar, who were planning to make us their slaves. We were victorious, and they left this place to us. But that Queen died in the war against the eldar farseers. The legend says that she died killing the entire coucil of the most powerful eldar...But it seems like she returned...", the voice of Celestrianna looked nervous, but under the normal tone was something else. Celestrianna, the capable politician and excellent diplomat was scared, really scared.

Gather to me, Fírë, Atassar. Tangible, a ripple through a still and deep pool, the mood that spread throughout the chamber. All thought of celebration had filtered away when the focus of all gathered turned to the striking figure of Aelosia.
Olorndil could feel the háranmehtar deepening their level of alertness, the very air seemed to bristle with their concentration.

Yet, his curiosity threatened to draw Olorndil closer to the enigmatic figure that whispers identified at the former Queen of the Aelosians. Dead and yet returned. The mystery added to the allure.

"I see," Albert murmured back. He noticed Celestrianna losing her composure, and that made him nervous too. Obviously this little surprise had been unplanned, and Albert couldn't blame the elf woman for being rattled at the reappearance of someone who'd been dead for centuries.

Dead for centuries... "Celestrianna," he murmured again. "You said she died before? How is it she's standing up there now?" He wasn't sure she'd answer. When he glanced towards Celestrianna, she still didn't look right to him. He stepped a little closer and lightly touched her arm. "Are you sure you're alright?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

The eyes of Aelosia stopped for a moment in the figure of Olorndil as she surveyed the garden, The light of Valinor is strangely strong in that elf. Uneasily strong. Seems that the old days of the elves aren't finished yet. Good to know that I'm not the only ancient walking relic around here, she thought, however turning to see the moving shadows of the Silmessë guards, not so subtle and invisile to her sharp and amazing sight.

"They never found her body", said Celestrianna in a whisper, her own figure trembling a little as her face started to grow pale. "But many saw her fall in the last onslaught inside the Eldar palace. MAybe she didn't die as we thought", she said, remarking the we with an unusual, scared tone, although she was speaking almost to herself, her eyes transfixed in the impressive figure of Aelosia the Lost Queen, Elurín of the Sindarin, Aelosia the Kins...

She warped out of her own thoughts, and looked at him, daring to place one her hands, covered in a delicate silken glove, in Albert's cheek. "I'm sure I'm right, I knew her when I was still a kid. My father used to be one of her most steadfast and truthful servants and advisors, the chief diplomat of her court. She haven't changed a bit. She's just...the same than efore, the same than hundreds of years ago". Her voice was now free of caution, showing an unnerving fear both in her tone and in her eyes.

"I don't have an answer, President Albert. I'm not even sure that anyone has an answer, except for herself and herself alone. This could be both a blessing and a curse, a new dawn or a signal of our final doom. The doom of our forefathers, the doom of our race", she said, placing her hand away from his cheek.

"Mark, Celestrianna," Albert murmured. "My first name is Mark, and I don't mind friends using it." He tried to ponder what she'd said, but her touch made it harder to think. He wasn't sure whether to be saddened or grateful when she withdrew her hand. His mind clear again, he formulated a response.

They take their name from hero, revere her as a hero, and are frightened to death when she reappears. He couldn't blame them for being nervous, if one of the handful of major figures in Glorious Humanity stepped out of the pages of history into the world today, Albert would be nervous too. Nervous yes, unsure of what to say or do definitely... but scared? No, not scared. Not scared of a hero. Yet scared was exactly what Celestrianna was. Maybe she was just scared of seeing a ghost, but Albert didn't think so. There was more to this, he was sure.

"You were going to say more for a moment," he said, laying his hand on her arm, just above her wrist. "What was it?" His eyes watched her face closely, especially her eyes, looking for a reaction to his question.

"Everqueen Aelosia was loved by the people, but many noble families weren't exactly supporting her. Most of the people and the citizens looked at her as a legend, but for many nobles she was just a relic, something that should be kept as a memory, and not an active part in an actual, real goverment" said Celestrianna, still whispering at Albert's ears. "My House was suppoting the opposition when the Queen dissapeared, my father and his House were very happy when that happened, but now that she returned...", she let the phrase hanging in the air, to let the human to extract his own conclusion.

"I'm scared, mostly that's what it's going on. I'm the most active supporter of Princess Aliria in Aelosia. Now that she's going to be deposed as the candidate for Everqueen, I'm in a political trouble. A hard one. I could be facing anything...From nothing to jail...even execution"

Albert shook his head, although he couldn't help the thought that sprang to mind. She's scared of being executed as a political opponent. And the Elves claim to be better than humans... He put that thought away in a locked box in his mind and put his smile back on.

"She doesn't seem too eager to do anything right now," he noted. A civil war here. Jesus... "I hope nothing bad happens. I'm glad to have met you, and I wouldn't want anything to happen to you now," he said sincerely. He still wanted to know more about the Elves, and now he also wanted to know more about Celestrianna herself.

"Can I leave with you?. Can I vist your country?", said Celestrianna in a suddenly desperate tone of voice "I shouldn't be here in this country. I must leave to a better and more safe place for now until everything calms down. I'm the Imperial Chancellor and Chief of Foriegn Affairs, so making a trip to a foreign country won't be that strange"

She took his hand again. "Please?. I can make anything you want...Just ask. you only need to invite me. Please don't be afraid, not her, not anyone in this place would try to hurt you, or to stop you. Take me with you!", the last words were hushed at this ear quite eagerly and tenderly, like a little pet asking for a favor...

Albert couldn't help being taken aback by her words. He realized this was very serious indeed, she didn't strike him as the type to plead, particularly not with her rank in the government. Surely she had some protection here, this had to be just a panic attack... but she was good and scared.

"I... I shall have to think on this," he replied slowly, hoping his shock wasn't showing on his face. The first, second, and third answers that sprang to mind were no, no, and no, followed by it's illegal for nonhumans to live in Glorious Humanity, only diplomats are allowed to stay.

But technically she is a diplomat.

Not an appointed ambassador though, which would make her... what? Political refugee? Giving asylum to a race that's not even supposed to be allowed in, that'll go over well. Then again, he wasn't going to run again, and his last term as President would be up in not too much longer. Then again, that would leave her fate, assuming she couldn't return home, in the hands of his successor, and the way she was going on, Albert was wondering if she really would be able to return home.

Decisions, decisions. So many decisions that had to be made every day, on a hundred topics and issues. "Do you really believe your life is in danger here?" he asked her, his voice also whispering.

"Maybe, maybe not. She's a mistery, and she was always unpredictable. Maybe she has forgotten that issue, maybe not", said Celestrianna after finally recovering her composture, looking at Albert with the usual, smart looking eyes of the diplomat.

"But what was I saying?. I don't want to be a burden. I'll face whatever she's preparing for me, as any noble of the Paelisi House would. With wisdom and a smart temper. That's what we do best", she said, smiling broadly again, any sign of fear dissapearing from her face in seconds.

"Sorry about my attitude seconds ago, President Albert. It wasn't my intention to bother you or disturb you in any manner. That was a serious lack of professionalism by me. It won't happen again. Now look at the new queen. Isn't she wonderful?. Her dress is beautiful. Come with me, I'll introduce you to her once the rites of coronation are over", said the Aelosian diplomat, as if nothing had happened in the last minutes.

"Maybe, maybe not. She's a mistery, and she was always unpredictable. Maybe she has forgotten that issue, maybe not", said Celestrianna after finally recovering her composture, looking at Albert with the usual, smart looking eyes of the diplomat.

"But what was I saying?. I don't want to be a burden. I'll face whatever she's preparing for me, as any noble of the Paelisi House would. With wisdom and a smart temper. That's what we do best", she said, smiling broadly again, any sign of fear dissapearing from her face in seconds.

"Sorry about my attitude seconds ago, President Albert. It wasn't my intention to bother you or disturb you in any manner. That was a serious lack of professionalism by me. It won't happen again. Now look at the new queen. Isn't she wonderful?. Her dress is beautiful. Come with me, I'll introduce you to her once the rites of coronation are over", said the Aelosian diplomat, as if nothing had happened in the last minutes.

NAME: Zana

TITLE: Princess

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN: The Queendom of Princess Zana

NUMBER OF ESCORTS: None are needed. Im responsible.

NUMBER OF GUARDS: I feel you probably have sufficient security my grace.

FAVORITE FOOD: Chicken

DO YOU NEED SPACEFARING TRANSPORTION? If at all possible it would be appreciated.

ANY SPECIAL REQUESTS: That you could possibly find me a date with one of the fellow rulers attending. I am 16.

'Kopinski' reappeared, remembering to go and find the one who had made contact with him before, but first...

He seemed to appear, with only the briefest rustle of fabric, behind Celestirianna. It was quite disturbing really. "I couldn't help but overhear, you have some concerns about the everqueen?" he asked, rehtorically, "I know it may seem like a little much, but would you like to share them with me?" he paused, and then feigned embarrasment, "Sorry, where are my manners, my name is Kopinski, Princeps {a title he planned on changing soon} of the C'tan Confederacy {another one}"

"I know who you are, Istari", said Celestrianna in a quiet voice, looking strangely quiet by the sudden apparition of the C'tan. "And I suppose you know who I am too. Elurín was known as a ruthless ruler, consumed by vengueance first against the Noldor that razed her homeland and killed her entire family, then against the eldar that made slaves of her own people. She can be cruel, and her memory doesn't forget, that's why I'm scared of her, Istari, because my family favored the eldar when they returned, looking for our friendship. I was one of the Houses that approved our treaties with the Kionash of Tor Yvresse", said Celestrianna looking to Kopinski's eyes, being extremely sincere, although showing an extreme emotionless stance and tone of voice, anyway. Then she turned to Albert, in her eyes a hidden plea for help hidden behind her icy attitude

"I know who you are, Istari", said Celestrianna in a quiet voice, looking strangely quiet by the sudden apparition of the C'tan. "And I suppose you know who I am too. Elurín was known as a ruthless ruler, consumed by vengueance first against the Noldor that razed her homeland and killed her entire family, then against the eldar that made slaves of her own people. She can be cruel, and her memory doesn't forget, that's why I'm scared of her, Istari, because my family favored the eldar when they returned, looking for our friendship. I was one of the Houses that approved our treaties with the Kionash of Tor Yvresse", said Celestrianna looking to Kopinski's eyes, being extremely sincere, although showing an extreme emotionless stance and tone of voice, anyway. Then she turned to Albert, in her eyes a hidden plea for help hidden behind her icy attitude

"Sounds like a charming woman," Albert noted drily. "Speaking of history, your Grace, I believe you mentioned some books you were going to give me about your. Must be very thick volumes indeed, from the little you've described."

He stepped up to her, linking his arm through hers and turning her with him as he continued speaking. "I remember expressing an interest in you personally, and your House, as well as general elven history. Maybe now you could tell me more about that." He'd now interposed himself between the elf and the C'tan, and while he continued to chat with her, he started walking away, arm in arm with Celestrianna.

Kopinski glared daggers at Albert, thoughly irritated by the human interposing himself. If looks could kill, Albert would probably be vaporised by now. Talking over the other man, in a show of contempt and irritation, he replied with a little laugh, bouncing up on the balls of his feet a little, grinning.

He added, "Well, that's hardly a crime! I doubt she would be as unreasonable as to punish you for being taken in by the fairly comprehensive propaganda campaign that the Yvressi have been running. But, for what it's worth, I shall talk to her about the matter. I would suggest that you relax, and put all such worries from your mind."

Celestrianna turned and nodded to Kopinski. "Let's hope that everything is going to be solved like you just predicted, My Lord". Then she turned again to focus her attention in Albert.

"After the coronation, my honored guest. I'll lead you to my home, the Paelisi Palaces, the most awesome buildings in the entire Craftworld. And I'll find you those books and give them to you. I could send the information through the internet, but I think that the old books has more of the spirit than just letters in a screen. I find your interest in our ways refreshing, and interesting", she said to Albert, before turning again to the C'tan, before leaving, like expressing her sorry for leaving that way, without a proper dismissal bow.

"I am honored," Albert smiled. "Glorious Humanity has had very little contact with nonhumans, and I fear ignorance breeds mistrust and hatred. Only by breaking down such barriers through learning can we hope to move forward in the universe."

He paused, then looked at her again. "Your home is the most beautiful on the Craftworld? It must be a truly stupendous dwelling indeed, for this whole place is breathtaking." He didn't comment on the residents, though privately he was as impressed with the people here as he was with the architecture.

"Glad you like it, most people here doesn't like the Craftworld. After all we are elves, and although this place holds a lot of beauty, it isn't the kind of place for a Sindarin. We used to live in lushful forests, filled with the most extraordinary animals and birds; and magnificent caves, carved out by our hands with the help of the dwarves. Those were the times of Doriath, the times of Melian's waist. Our Golden Age", said Celestrianna, a little tone of grief and sadness in her voice as she spoke.

"Now we inherited this crystal toy from the eldar, the original owners, who built it with their hidden skills and their psychic powers. We just reformed it to look more like our previous home, but the main architecture isn't Sindarin, that's why many of us feels uncomfortable in this place, although we don't have another option", she continued, her hands illustrating her words with graceful and delicate gestures, almost drawing the scenes, people and places she was depicting in the air.

"But it's not Doriath, it has no natural forests...and even as the crystal trees are an awesome view, they're not alive. Even as the palaces defy gravity and are a wonder of this age, they have no history, no ancient elves walked through their empty and quiet halls. They're just memores how we were, and nothing else", she said as she finally took Albert's arm again, leading him to a walk around the perfection of the D'Hyru gardens.
"Even this grass, so perfect as it seems, it's artificial. Even those birds that you hear are tapes, or even worst, droids. Nothing here is what it looks to be"

"Glorious Humanity was once thick with forests, but humans have not always treated them with such reverence. We have rainforests though, in the south and east. Tourists come to see them sometimes." Albert looked around at the beautiful gardens they were walking through. Even if they were fake, he was impressed. "We woke up about a hundred years ago though, and now we protect our environment. I'd like to think that we're proof that one does not need to totally destroy their nation to be prosperous."

He paused. "I was thinking about your request earlier, Celestrianna. Perhaps you would like to see our forests? If you would like to, you are certainly welcome to come to my country and stay for a while. It would be a wonderful opportunity to learn more about the elven people, and for you to learn more about humans."

And for me to learn more about you, he didn't say.

"That...would...be...", Celestrianna started to say very slowly, thinking about Albert's words and pounding about the invitation he just made. "But you said that you needed to think about it just minutes ago", she said as she turned around, as checking if someone was following them.

Finally arriving to a fountain, decorated with the theme of an astonishing elven maiden danciong in the middle of a waterfall, as the water was sprouting from one of her hands, raised above her head. Celestrianna sat in the border of the fountain, fixing her long and complex dress to not fall into the water, and began to speak again, this time her words having a magical sound as they echoed with the same sound of the sprouting water, giving them a musical, enchanting tone.

"I would be delighted, President Albert, to be your guest in your with no doubt delightful country. But I don't want to be a problem. As a matter of fact I won't be a problem, no matter what. I'm old and skilled enough to see that you're not convinced about what are you saying, and I don't want you to regret your words. Of all the mortal emotions, regret and pity are the worst of all. And my courtier's sense is telling me that your words have a lot of both. I don't want to be burden for you or for anyone, I'm too old for that. I prefer to face my destiny, even if it's the one I fear".

Albert shook his head, sitting down next to her. "Milady, you asked, and I said you could come. I had to think about it for a few minutes, but I don't see any reason why you could not visit. I don't expect you would be a bother, in fact I think you would be a great help towards easing some of the fears and prejudices of my people."

"I do not pity you, or look down on you, that's not in my nature. I'm extending the invitation because you asked, and because it appears you need some time away. We all need vacations from time to time. Besides," he grinned. "You're a nice woman, and an interesting conversationalist. I wouldn't mind continuing our discussions and my education in elven history while you're in Glorious Humanity."

He looked up at the beautiful fountain. "So, the offer stands. If you wish to visit my country, you are more than welcome." As he said this, his eyes refocused on her, waiting for her reply.

Atassar was contained by the will of Olorndil alone, his desire to stand beside the Princess Aliria a burning jewel of passions that surprised the Lord of the Silmellon.
"Sérë, sérë her Atassar," he murmured, placed a hand gently on the Lord of Tárasarnë. "You fear for her needlessly, the return of the Queen has revealed no malice yet for the heir."

Silently he wove words for the ears of Aelosia alone, watched her moving elegantly between the peers of her realm.
Greetings fair Aelosia, anar kaluva tielyanna. His eyes pierced the distance between them. The sun shall shine upon your path; so says the Lord of the Silmellon. He dipped his head, Olorndil.

Shifting between the figures arrayed round the Queen, he approached her. Atassar and Fírë arrayed now as attendants following in the wake of their liege, Atassar's features schooled though his eyes sought out Aliria. The háranmehtar shifting, ever watchful and not far from the Lord of the Silmellon's side; vortexes of potential now exposed to further brighten the presence of their King. Olorndil exuding the ancient echoes of a world long lost; known now only to the oldest elves.

"Metta mornë olori," the words were audible throughout the chamber, though Olorndil spoke them only for Aelosia. "Dark dreams end for Aelosia, nation and herself know the passing of night. Welcome back to the light, Oiotári."

Celestrianna smiled, smirking a little at Albert's words. "As long as you're sure about it, as I said before, I would be delighted to visit your country, and to finally find out if my knowledge about your race and your customs is wrong or accurate. Of course that I would have a lot of pleasure in continuing to teach you about my race too, so we could learn from each other".

She placed her hand on the cold stone next to her at the edge of the fountain. "Come here, sit with me, this fountain is a special place for us, and it is said that it can work out any differences between people that talk listening to the magical sound of the water. I want to erase the differences between our peoples, and to make the Firsts and the Seconds sons of Ilúvatar brothers and sisters, as they should be. Did I tell you about Lúthien and Beren, the story of the First Princess of the Sindar?", she said, smiling again, in her big and clear eyes a promise of company, friendship, and maybe something more...

Aelosia opened her eyes wide as she heard the words of the Silmellon Lord, and turned to see him. Moving with delicate, elongated and elegant steps she started to walk directly towards him, her stare totally fixed on the figure of Olorndil. People around the new Queen quickly opened a path between the two powerful elves, and for a moment the air around them was charged with somekind of latent energy, that almost broke out like a lightning as she approached Olorndil. She looked transfixed into another being, as her kin started to exude a bluish and ghostly light. Raising her hand, showing the palm to Olorndil, she finally spoke in Olorndil's mind, without moving her lips an inch.

"Who are you, fair Lord?. Your presence brings me to another times and places, where we elves were happier and higher than now. Why are you here?. Who brought you?. And tell me about your lineage, because it's a pleasure that still in the plane of Ilúvatar the Firstborn walk amongst the lesser beings. I can see the gleam of the light of Valinor in your eyes, and that pleases me"

In the waters of the Silmesírë; in the voices of Lisselillassië, where whisper the trees, to the heights of the Arinoronti and in the very airs of Silmessë fair Queen, his eyes, silvered by his will, saw none but Aelosia. You will find in the lands of the Silmellon no better reflection of the fairest place ever lost by the elves.

Through the chamber, the lands of the Silmellon were subtly evoked; voices sang for the great river of the isle, Silmesírë. Scents drifted, painted the honey leafed forest of Lisselillassië where the trees still spoke to one another. Colours bled into the air, pallid until focused on, Olorndil and Aelosia alone on the sweeping plains of Silmessë; illusions more potent than reality.

In this place, you might banish a thousand years of nightmares, he told the EverQueen. So you are promised by Olorndil, son of Arwë called Sanda Almárea and Fánanyelle; Lord of the Silmellon.

His call on the elements ended, the isle of Silmessë was once again distant; reflected only by the vigour of its lord and his bright companions.

"I, as you Aelosia, am another time," he whispered, held out his hand to her; amethyst and silver alive with spirit, vivid as flame, the ring of the Silmellon King. "Silmessë has passed the centuries under binding of sleep, forgotten more thoroughly than any myth of the ancient days. We are still the ancients, seeped in that age, which lingers for others as a memory long passed into slivers of dream. In some, Oiotári," he studied her, eye's burning with compassion, "such bindings might birth anger, unquenchable."
Look on it in but another light fair Aelosia and you will see its blessings measure greatly, where the loss is small indeed.

He leaned close, his scent like the waters of Valinor, his breath like the wind that arose in that land. "Do not my Queen," he whispered, voice too low even for nearby Atassar and Fírë; not even a sigh to others; "allow the nightmares to plague you now that you awake."

"No, no you did not," Albert replied, sitting closer to her as she requested. "Who were they?"

All this is not real? he thought to himself. To him, it looked as natural as the rainforests back home, everything feeling and sounding as real as life. Such an immense, powerful illusion. But an illusion still. Celestrianna had called it a shadow of what once was. A perfect replica, wonderful in every way save nature. It was not hard to understand why the elves longed for natural land again. To look at all this, a constant reminder of what they had, must have been very hard for them.

"Lúthien was the daughter of the first King of the Sindarin, Elu Thingol, and one spirit from the blessed realm that you call Heaven, and we call Valinor. A Maia called Melian, maybe you could call her an Angel, perhaps. As far as I know about the human culture that's the best name you could find for her", as she began to tell the story to Albert, her voice changed to a whisper, a magical and enchanted whisper, sounding almost as the chanting of a mysterious spell. It was wonderful how, although she was talking in elven, the words and the images that she was recalling appeared inside Albert's mind with precision and perfection, barring any language barrier, sending the message as clear as if she was talking in english, with Glorious Humanity accent.

"The legends say that Lúthien, the result of the mixture between the fair elven blood and the divine essence of the Maia from the Blessed Realm, was the most beautiful creature ever born in the Middle Earth, with the exception of one, as you will see later. Many people said that the vision of Lúthien dancing and singing in the solitude of the Hidden Glades in the forests of Doriath, the legendary Sindarin realm, was too amazing to behold, and that the gleaming of her skin and eyes was so bright that it could have rendered blind to even the most powerful or wicked being", as she spoke the first part of the story, she introduced her hand inside the clear water of the fountain, and the water started to glow with an eerie, bluish light. She started to look into the water, before she continued to tell the story again.

"Beren was a Prince of the Edain, the first men that walked Beleriand in those ancient and legendary days. He was escaping from the minions of Melkor, the Dark Vala, after he fought the orcs in the thick forests in the north of Beleriand. After a brave trip through barren, unhospitable and horrible wastelands, he finally arrived to the boundaries of the land of the Sindar, and entered the Hidden Glades in the middle of the forests", her voice kept chanting the word, giving them a mystical and muscial tone that helped Albert's mind to reach out of the current reality and depict the images of the old tale. Suddenly he wasn't anymore sitted at the fountain in the Craftworld, now he was in a strange place in the middle of the forest, and it was a dark night, under a sky filled with stars. A strange music echoed through the place, and near him a voice, more like a music similar to a voice, started to fill the air all around him, singing in a strange, unhuman and wonderful language. The sound was almost painful to bear, as beautiful as it was, and suddenly Albert began to feel driven to approach the place from where the voice came...But he wasn't feeling like Albert anymore. He was a younger man, but he was tired, and suddenly really hungry. He was clad just in dirty, leathery clothes, and he was sporting a long, unkempt beard...
_____________________________________________________________

"I won't, as long as the spark of the light of the first trees is recalled by you and your people, Lord of the Silmellon. I never saw the light of Valinor, although I saw the reflection of it in the eyes of Melian my grandmother. However, Only the thought of it can bring clarity to even the most clouded minds, as you have just helped me to get over my darkest feelings and obsessions with just a glimpse of your blessed realm", said Aelosia to Olorndil, bowing her head in front of the Silmellon Lord.

"If I want to be close to someone, is to you and to your people, Olorndil, as they will keep our dreams bright and our homes full of life. Please stay for awhile, and teach me how to live up to the standards of the true High elves, the first sons of Ilúvatar"

What in the world? Albert/Beren thought. There was another set of thoughts in his mind now. It was almost like he was two men at once. One was the President of Glorious Humanity, the other was this legendary figure, slogging his way through the woods towards the angel's song.

President Albert's mind reeled away from this illusion. Was it an illusion? It had to be, how could he have gone to another place and time? These must be the Hidden Glades. Beren's mind, he noted, identified this place as Doriath. It was kind of strange, and a little unnerving, to be able to hear the other man's thoughts as clearly as his own.

The unkempt man seemed oblivious to his sudden mental passenger though, he kept moving towards the music, and Albert was carried along for the ride, playing out a part in a story that had happened ages before.

"Then suddenly, more beautiful than the entire Arda unmarred, Lúthien appeared in front of Beren, dancing with her bare feet over the warm and soft grass of the Hidden Glade, her figure the brightest of the stars in that clear summer's night, the moonlight sliding over her silouette as clear water running down in a waterfall, to finally rest into the green carpet covering the entire place. Her voice as the softest velvet covered the atmosphere around the glade, making the wind to be ashamed to join the delicate and supernatural sound that sprang from her into her song. Her soft, black mane of hair was free playing in the air as she spun like a graceful swan around the clear of the forest, and even the stars grew pale in comparison wit the perfection of her figure and the fairness of her features, the most perfect of all the women in the world of Ilúvatar", Celestriana's words were still heard in Albert's mind, with the same enchanting and hypnotic tone, when an elven maiden appeared in front of him, exactly like Celestianna described her, exactly the same Lúthien that the story talked about. Her figure was more graceful than a deer free running in the woods, more beautiful than a swarm of swans crossing the sky, more enchanting than the gleam of any gem, although this time her entire head was covered by the hood of a Greycloak. As a foreign memory the image of the cloak flew to Albert's mind, how the elves used them to be invisible through the forests, and how Greycloaks were the royal symbol of the House of Thingol Singollo, King of the Sindar.

"Suddenly Lúthien turned, and saw Beren as he was right there, a man tired after decades of fighting, a man who fought for his life a thousand times before finally he escaped from the deepest and most heinous evil that the world could imagine. And suddenly she was scared. scared of being alone with a stranger in a Hidden Glade, scared of how this stranger looked, and suddenly the howl of a wolf, the mark of the Ancient Evil Sauron, broke the silence, forcing her to flee both in haste and in fear of the unknown, the unknown in the form of the mysterious men that emerged from the untamed forest". As Celestrianna spoke those words the figure in front of Albert turned for a second, and indeed a simple glimpse of a statuesque chin and the gleam of a pair of deep green eyes were enough to invade the very essence of Albert's mind. The voice stopped inmediately, and was replaced by the chilling howl of a savage wolf, probably the mating call of a male, although the sound was indeed sinister, as if the simple howl was meaning something else than just a loose wild animal. Then the maiden of the glade ran, ran away from him, entering the bushes in haste, her bare feet only making a faint sound as she put some distance between her and the newcomer...

OOC: I know this is off-topic, and I'll probably replace this with something of an IC nature later.

I thought Aelosia was bigger than a billion. I'm at 2.something and I'll only a week or two older.

Silmessë awaits the Oiotári, she shall know the whisper of the honey leafed ornemalin trees; the caress of the fragrant winds. Olorndil lightly touched the EverQueen's silken cheek. There shall be a high house for fair Aelosia always in the lands of the Silmellon.

"There is time for the Lord of Silmellon to speak with the Oiotári," Olorndil said aloud. Arm extended to escort Aelosia away from the crowded chamber floor; his silvered eyes searched and found two comfortable chairs arranged together in a shadowed niche. "It is clear that there is much wisdom in the Oiotári and that we both might learn from one another."

Fírë and Atassar drew back, obeyed the will of their Lord; the háranmehtar coruscating towards the invisible, jewelled armour absorbing light as they shimmered out of sight.

OOC: Note when this thread was started.

"I'll come to your lands each time my mind need a quiet place to find again the values of the elvenkind, and the things that made us, and that still in these dark times are the most important part of us", said Aelosia to Olorndil, her soft voice sliding to his mind, but using Sindarin, and not Quenya.

"And of course nothing couldn't be more valuable than to share experiences and knowledge with such an ancient elf as the Lord of the Silmellon. Although we're as different as the water of a creek and a raging wind, with no doubt those differences only makes out relationship more interesting. It has been centuries since I've met an equal being", she whispered, now for the first time using her lips so the rest could hear. "Those Haránmehtar are a proof of your status and power. Although I'm still wondering how you finally made your way up here, to the stars, without help...", she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Olorndil made no effort to conceal his surprise. Aelosia moved swiftly indeed, if her intelligence network was already spun. Her pointed question indicated how thoroughly she'd been educated on the Silmellon in the short space of time since her re-emergence. His estimation of the Oiotári - already high - rose another notch.

"There are mysteries even to the Silmellon in Silmessë," he murmured, adopting her native tongue as though it was his own; a shadow of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Among them lie the origins of the Silmerámion." How deep the well of your knowledge? A silent question reserved for Olorndil alone; no hint of it telegraphed across his expression. "It is best said that the Silmellon found the stars through the Silmerámion," he added. "It is they who performed the task unaided." A memory filtered through his mind, his own Silmerámë whispering the name of their mysterious mother. Calamil. Though nothing more would Arisildë or any other Silmerámë say of the powerful woman.

His eyes locked with Aelosia's, a subtle communication passed to the Oiotári. When answers were forthcoming the Lord of the Silmellon promised, Aelosia would be party to the revelation.

"If the Oiotári so desires," he continued smoothly; voice a seductive melody, rich in timbre, "there is Arisildë within the bays of the Craftworld. Aelosia may see for herself the second mystery of the Silmellon, a Silmerámë."

She is rather beautiful, Albert noted, watching. The Beren half of his mind was feeling surprise, and also noting her beauty. As the story continued, Albert found himself comparing Celestrianna to Luthien. The comparison, at least to him, was pretty favorable towards Celestrianna.

Wolves were evil where she came from? What an interesting idea. He'd never thought of animals as good or evil, only other creatures in the world. That did not seem to be the case here. What other beasts were considered bad news by the elves, he wondered.

He was aware that Beren was moving, racing through the forest in pursuit of Luthien and refocused his attention on the story, rather eager to see what happened next.

Olorndilo sarat
i.e. Olorndil’s Tag…(literally Mark of Olorndil)

"Another mistery?, although from your tone I deduct that mistery doesn't belong to the forgotten old times of elvenkind, but instead it is an amazing discovery of your people in more recent times. Indeed it will be a pleasure to join you in the effort of uncovering such mistery. Please gide me to the proper dock, Light of the Silmellon. I'll follow you", said the Everqueen slipping her hand to grab Olorndil's one, a little smile in her lips as she felt the soft skin of the handsome elf that was her companion.

"Then Lúthien ran and was pursued by Beren, until she finally stopped at the edge of a singing creek, and then there she turned to see her pursuer, and in that instant the time stopped, and the fate of the first and the second sons of Ilúvatar was entwined. Lúthien deep and unnatural eyes were lost as she saw inside the powerful and determined soul of Beren, and so a light of hope started to glow bright against the shadow of the north, when both races encountered each other in that moment", continued the voice of Celestrianna, relating the old story, as her own eyes sank deep into Albert's ones with such intensity that so the human could think her own spirit was coming out of her body trying to enter his own, her essence trying to mix with his soul.

The háranmehtar hung back, pearlescent smoke curling in the air; followed their Lord discreetly.

"We are some distance from where Arisildë awaits my return," Olorndil murmured, leading Aelosia towards the locomotive carriages that had delivered the Silmellon party to the sumptuous celebration hall. "The journey will give us time to speak further."

He gazed at the Oiotári, drank in the subtle hues of spirit that blazed from her eyes. Here is the greater of the mysteries, this elegant creature that harkens back to an earlier age. Only once before had Olorndil been so mesmerised; when gazing into the carnelian eyes of Sirithil.

"We might talk of mystery," he said; a smile offered between words. Eyes indicating that another mystery had occurred to the Lord of the Silmellon; the Oiotári herself…Aelosia.

Atassar watched as the returned Queen of the Aelosians drew Olorndil away; not compelled to follow, he and Fírë remained.
Released from his liege's side, he cast only a brief glance at the Silmello healer before moving swiftly to stand before Aliria.

Are you safe Aliria? his thoughts flew to her, wrapped her mind in his concern. Eyes wide with fear; not for himself but for the Princess. Though it be futile, I would stand before you as a shield against the turmoil that might now be cast your way. His gaze flickered towards the disappearing figures of Aleosia and Olorndil.

"You would be safe from harm in Silmessë," he whispered, fingers hesitantly reaching out to stroke the delicate lady's hand. "You could be the Lady Tárasarnë, forever my Princess…"
Safe, he told himself silently, but the word seemed frail. Even Atassar could not say what the future might bring to the former Heir with certainty.

"Of misteries indeed, as I know that my sudden appearance is not the least of them", said the Everqueen, fixing the intense gaze of her clear blue eyes in the Olorndil's features, her eyes strangely being exactly the opposite of the deep crimson light of the Elentári ones.

"I don't know anything of this world, yet my life runs long, and a lot time I have walked in the realm of the mortals, although each day I feel that the forbidden and forgotten west calls me. Elúrin I was in a distant past, and I was born in the last days of Doriath, inside Melian's girdle, my own ancestor. Of Dior the Beautiful and Nimloth of Doriath I descend, and I called them father and mother in the hidden glades of the realm, as me and my brother learned to walk in the wonderful caves of Menegroth. the men later called that time the First Age, or the Dawn of Time. inside my veins runs wild the blood of three races, elves, men and maias, as Lúthien and Beren were my grandparents", said Aelosia lowering her head and looking at the floor for a while.

"But that was so many time ago, and so many things happened after that...I'm grateful that today my memories are still hazy, and that way I can't remember the fires, the sack of my home, the deaths of everybody that I've ever meet, the loneliness of the forest, the wild animals coming closer, and the Ungoliant's sibilings stalking the shadows, once the girdle was gone...", Aelosia's voice cracked for a while, and her eyes were forced to close as her knuckles turned white. "Yet worse forces of evil roam this universe, as I painfully learned centuries after the Shadow of the North was defeated by us, with the help of the Valar". An intense aura of hatred and revenge wishes grew around the entire hallway as they walked, emanating from the form of the Queen.

"I learned that only power was the account of survival, and that in order to live happily and help others you must gather all the power you can. That's my answer to the universe", she finally said, now turning to face Olorndil. "Now...What about your mysteries?", she said, a wicked grin of curiosity in her features.

Yet I can't leave. Many people depend on me and on my actions right now, dear Atassar, care to the Valar. I can't leave my people and many of my friends to an uncertain future. It is my responsability as a Noble of the Realm. I can't run away with you, although I would want to..., said Aliria, turning to give Atassar a sad smile. You'll have to wait a little bit for that, Atassar, she finished, nodding slightly her head to remark her words.

[i]And, no matter what happens, don't interfere. I don't want to bring any harm to you..[I]

"That was not the mystery on my mind," Olorndil smiled. Though it is perhaps a part of it, an aspect of the allure of Aelosia. The thought slipped into her mind; the very spirit of Olorndil coloured it, allowed the Oiotári insight into the mind of the Lord of the Silmellon. His interest in her plain; eyes alight with scattered stars, their source the universe within Olorndil.

"Power is a fickle thing, the only true power in this world or any other, is the power you hold over your own mind...and even this must be hard won." Soft his words, the ever gentle musings of the Silmellon King. They were not meant to chide Aelosia. "The Silmellon were blessed even as they were cursed, passing through these troubled centuries untouched." He gazed into Aleosia's eyes, summoned up visions once more of the unspoilt domain of the Silmellon. "You will find kinder memories in Silmessë. Again he let her know that within his realm she was always welcome.

Beside the train that had brought Olorndil and his companions from the landing bays of the CraftWorld they stopped, the Lord turning to Aelosia with raised brows.
"Will the locomotive return us to where my Silmerámë waits?"

Within his mind a sparkle of neon sigils. Memory of Arisildë's thoughts webbing between his own, or could it be that the Silmerámë somehow reached out to him; aware that he returned to her? Olorndil dismissed the latter, without the communicator ring upon his brow how could the Silmerámë perceive his mind…

Albert blinked several times as Beren did the same in the story, both men suddenly finding themselves short of breath. He was suddenly aware of being himself again, as in physically himself, though he was still connected to Beren. He could still hear the other man's mind, but back in the real world, he was aware that things were happening to him.

He felt very strange now, as though he was floating, suspended between who he was and who he was playing in this tale. His vision was divided, two worlds superimposed on each other, two sets of elven eyes staring into two sets of human ones that both belonged to him. A man from the present and a man from the far past, in two very different realities, but both at the same moment, in the same situation. In a strange sense, in the same place.

Albert opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out, and slowly he shut it again. He was aware of Beren in the story doing the same thing.

What is this? he asked in his mind, the question directed at no one and everyone. What is happening? There was no answer, and the President of Glorious Humanity slowly turned his mind back to the tale being told, though his thoughts swarmed with thousands of questions. As did Beren's, he noted as he returned to the other man's mind.