Role

Chapter 1

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From darkness she stepped into swampy jungle terrain. Curiously she looked
about, for here surely was an Outlander ambush. Deadfalls hung in place with
a labyrinth of snares and traps. Like the sun and moon, outward stepped two
elves so very different. Each came with a grace benevolent and sinister as
the Elf Fieldsithian and Dark-Elf Ilimya stepped forth from the hidden
deadfalls.

She tilted her head saying, "This is a remarkable ambush! Who would need
such a combination of traps and snares?" Oddly, the often joyful Fielstithian
did not smile at all and Ilimya drew forth his daggers and said, "You wait
too long Harbinger. Can you not hear the call of the cycle? Why do you
resist it? Does even Amaranthe have the right to keep you from it so long?"
With unmistakable sadness, Fielstithian only stated, "It is for you we wait
Aeria my friend."

She tilted her head saying, "This is a remarkable ambush! Who would need
such a combination of traps and snares?" Oddly, the often joyful Fielstithian
did not smile at all and Ilimya drew forth his daggers and said, "You wait
too long Harbinger. Can you not hear the call of the cycle? Why do you
resist it? Does even Amaranthe have the right to keep you from it so long?"
With unmistakable sadness, Fielstithian only stated, "It is for you we wait
Aeria my friend."

Aeria shook her head in denial, for there was much to left undone for
Amaranthe. As she sought to escape, deadfall after deadfall was released,
and the elves stalked on relentlessly. Suddenly a swampy smell rose up and
with a buzz of insects her spine shivered in horror. She desperately sought
to escape but wherever she ran a wall of tangled briars and thorns rose
around her, cutting off escape.Refusing to look behind, she waited for the
voice she knew would follow the swampy smell and insect buzz. "Must make
death! Must return swamps! Death to Aeria as agreed, Yes!?" the voice of
Morasfenmire coldly rasped behind her. Down she was pulled into swamps that
would be a tomb. The descent seemed timeless and endless and as she was
pulled under she stared into the sky with a calm that only comes from a
lifetime of dealing and being dealt of death.

There against the backdrop of a nights sky on a gnarled jungle branch, a
raven watched her, tilting its head inquisitively. Behind it a shooting star
streaked the sky. With a small nod, Aeria Starblaze whispered to Amaranthe
and all was as it once was.

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<100%hp 100%m 100%mv 5020tnl (26.61%)> indoor civilized 4 AM
The Crone lowers her gnarled crook and leaning her burdens upon it again,
whispers, 'Born under the Scythe of the Goddess as you may be, you still seem
young, and soft. Are you certain you are able to take upon the burdens of an
old crone at so young an age?'

<100%hp 100%m 100%mv 5020tnl (26.61%)> indoor civilized 4 AM
The Crone lifts up her gnarled cook with a shaky hand, poking you in the ribs
as she whispers 'You do not weep for loss, Aeria. Loss simply is part of the
Cycle. You merely accept it, or avenge it.'

<100%hp 100%m 100%mv 5020tnl (26.61%)> indoor civilized 5 AM
The Crone whispers 'We shall see if you are strong enou