Nueva Alqualonde
05-08-2005, 21:06
Nobody knew where they came from. They just did. Small flotillas of beautiful, white, swan-like ships, perhaps similar to the ones Alqualonde was known for in the days of yore, floated slowly through the Pacific Ocean. They were, of course, much more modern. Moving through the seas of the world via advanced magnetic-field propulsion technique, protecting their ships by the use of ‘Cirdan’-series laser cannons, the Teleri now sought themselves a new home.
Greetings, mortals! To all those who see us! We are the Teleri! We have left our dwellings in Valinor. We now seek a new holding, a new place in this world around us. We request any nation or region which has land to spare, to come to the aid of this new nation!
The ships moved, swift, yet silent, through the seas of the multi-verse, speeding past Orc kingdoms and Dwarf dominions, human empires and Elven holdings. On the bow of the foremost ship stood their king, Delerio the Second, descendant of the proud House of Cirdan. He was leaning on a sword, bright as the beams of the moon, light as all weapons of the Teleri. It was not a true weapon of war - not in the age of machine-guns and plasma rifles. It was a symbol of beauty. Of freedom. Of the eternal, undying pride of the Teleri nation in their heritage.
On and on went the Elven flotilla, past kings and parliaments, slaves and free men - and everywhere it went, it sent out the same request, the same message: The nation of Nueva Alqualonde needed a home. Somewhere it was going to find it. Where? That was a question yet unanswered.
Greetings, mortals! To all those who see us! We are the Teleri! We have left our dwellings in Valinor. We now seek a new holding, a new place in this world around us. We request any nation or region which has land to spare, to come to the aid of this new nation!
The ships moved, swift, yet silent, through the seas of the multi-verse, speeding past Orc kingdoms and Dwarf dominions, human empires and Elven holdings. On the bow of the foremost ship stood their king, Delerio the Second, descendant of the proud House of Cirdan. He was leaning on a sword, bright as the beams of the moon, light as all weapons of the Teleri. It was not a true weapon of war - not in the age of machine-guns and plasma rifles. It was a symbol of beauty. Of freedom. Of the eternal, undying pride of the Teleri nation in their heritage.
On and on went the Elven flotilla, past kings and parliaments, slaves and free men - and everywhere it went, it sent out the same request, the same message: The nation of Nueva Alqualonde needed a home. Somewhere it was going to find it. Where? That was a question yet unanswered.