There I stood, on that elevated platform. Nobles & commoners alike brushed and bumped passed. Standing there, in plain site no less I was invisible to all but the most like minded few. Like so many around here, my family has lived within the safety of this bustling metropolis, its beauty faded by time and common place. Every surface which my kind had placed within great forest of Rain, is delicately carved to blend each home & concourse back into Ki’s own design. A beauty which I see now, is only truly appreciated by those gazing upon them for the first few times, or those like me, how’s maybe their last.
Finding a seldom used walk way I stopped again. Closing my eyes the sounds and smells played with my hopes, or perhaps the gods sought to encourage my journey, for those few, brief divine moments, my mind was fooled into believing I had made it to the human cities. Vivid visions as described in song and poem by the bards in Auvrae’Eplith en Rian, leaped into my mind. Alas opening my eyes broke the blessed spell, for staring back down at me was the lush green canopy, it’s golden streams of light trickled mockingly down to me.
For how long have I longed to see the sky? To see something other than a green and gold sky, I can never remember a time I did not wish for it. My family happy go about their lives, content to live in this place, they will never know my desire to see the world, but I hope one day they will understand. Now with my good byes said & done to this cite called Naithe, I head for the edge of my known world, I head to the edge of Rian. In a few days from now, when I have said my goodbyes to forest and my hello to what lies beyond, I shall write again.
And So a journey begins
Moderator: Lords of The Realm
What a marvellous site the world is! At the edge of this great forest I have been held within for so long, my eyes where greeted with big white fluffy clouds lazily floats over a bright blue sky! I now write under an unhidden sun. Tall greens grass and wild flowers of all colours cover rolling hills all the way to hills that reach high up into the sky. These hills threaten to touch the clouds, the same hills even from this distance can not hide their white hats, they must be mountains! The waves of colour and smells rush into my very being, threatening to overwhelm my senses, yet they only feed my excitement, my joy. Writing this is all I can do to stop myself from rushing head first through the tall grass and up the mountain side. I will take heed of the friendly warnings given to me by the scouts I pass not an hour back in the woods. I shall write again, when and from where I do not know, but it will be from a place my eyes have never seen.
The long grass hides many similar creatures as the forest, wolves, rabbits, snakes, many birds and the odd mad badger. There is one creature that I have truly never seen before, half man half bull, although I can write little more than that. It appears as though these beasts have inherited a bull’s territorial instinct, and after seeing a single one charge down a large pack of wolves I thought better than to try any further.
The closer I get to the mountains the windier and colder it gets. Although the grass and flowers still grow in abundance, they seem to be thinning out. Even the ground underfoot has become hard and harder still as I approach the foot of these unmoving mounds. I remember these mountains looked inviting from the forests edge, now they are dark, cold, harsh place I could hardly imagine a less welcoming site. I surely do not see what the dwarves love so much about places like this. Looking upon them now, they appears as soldiers in immobile ranks. Each one staring silently down at me, as if trying to intimidate me, but I shall not cower back to the forest!
The closer I get to the mountains the windier and colder it gets. Although the grass and flowers still grow in abundance, they seem to be thinning out. Even the ground underfoot has become hard and harder still as I approach the foot of these unmoving mounds. I remember these mountains looked inviting from the forests edge, now they are dark, cold, harsh place I could hardly imagine a less welcoming site. I surely do not see what the dwarves love so much about places like this. Looking upon them now, they appears as soldiers in immobile ranks. Each one staring silently down at me, as if trying to intimidate me, but I shall not cower back to the forest!
Three days since I left the grass covered hill tops, threes days into this mountain range and I have only managed to pass through one mountain. The wind seems to dance between these giant mounds of rock, gathering strength as it bounces to and fro, pushing me in where IT desires. No matter which way the wind blows, it is always the same, cutting like long needles of ice through all but the thickest clothing. Should I leave anything uncovered, be it face or hand, it take only moments for the sharp pain to start, as if a blunt frozen blade was trying to slice through you.
Rain, it does not seem to fall here. It plummets to the ground as if fired from a long bow only a few feet away. Since these balls of half frozen arrows hail down I spend another day cramped in this small cave. Curiously it appears as though it was carver out of the mountain side. The fact that it is so conveniently close to the trail also suggests to me this is no natural formation, maybe this was once a trade route of some kind, either way I am grateful for the shelter.
I have stopped counting the delays; it now serves as nothing more than a depressing reminder of what little distance I have covered. I should have taken a gryphon. Instead of soaring high over the lands I now stumble through rocks and the relentless wails of the wind. It howls like a banshee warning me of my fate should I continue. Certainly death must prevail in lands such as these, for I have not sign of life, except for these sparsely dug out caverns, but even they seem to be weather by time and hold a grim stench I dare not describe. As horrid as this seems, I find that I have no will to turn around, to go back to the comforts of the forest. The trail seems to beheading down now, to what I can not see, but anything would be better than this.
Rain, it does not seem to fall here. It plummets to the ground as if fired from a long bow only a few feet away. Since these balls of half frozen arrows hail down I spend another day cramped in this small cave. Curiously it appears as though it was carver out of the mountain side. The fact that it is so conveniently close to the trail also suggests to me this is no natural formation, maybe this was once a trade route of some kind, either way I am grateful for the shelter.
I have stopped counting the delays; it now serves as nothing more than a depressing reminder of what little distance I have covered. I should have taken a gryphon. Instead of soaring high over the lands I now stumble through rocks and the relentless wails of the wind. It howls like a banshee warning me of my fate should I continue. Certainly death must prevail in lands such as these, for I have not sign of life, except for these sparsely dug out caverns, but even they seem to be weather by time and hold a grim stench I dare not describe. As horrid as this seems, I find that I have no will to turn around, to go back to the comforts of the forest. The trail seems to beheading down now, to what I can not see, but anything would be better than this.