Shinju Grapetender the Weaver of the Elements

Role

Chapter 5

It has been years since the young elf stumbled out of the forest
and found his way to the Fortress of Light. He has not proven to
be a leader, nor even much of a soldier, as much of his time has
been taken by learning.

The magic which was once a mystery is now second nature. The
elemental shields rise and fall like breath. He is at one with the
veil, a master of many magics. Even Rhone had not unlocked the
secrets of Earth. Shinju knows the secret heartbeat of stones.

Still, he is no Rhone. He is, by far, the frailest member of The
Brigade. The tactics for driving him from a fight are innumerable.
The means of escaping him number even more. Still, the effort to
be a force in The War drives him.

Older now, his cheer hides some truths from the rest of The Fort.
The attitudes of some of the others disturb him. They seem a royal
court, or perhaps merchants, the way they concern themselves with
finery and glittering blades. Soldiers, yes, but fops as well. Not
all, by no means all, but some, certainly.

Furthermore is the matter of wands. He has found powerful rods
held by those who, while hardly innocent, are not enemies. He begged
them, pleaded with them, but they would not part with the cursed
things. Fine. Withholding aid from The Light is the same as aiding
The Darkness, isn't it? He doesn't know, but again, they are hardly
innocent, one senile, who knows what crimes she conceals. The other
harbors Imperials Blacks and other wicked souls. Order at what cost?

An elf's face betrays no secrets. For that this soldier is glad.

Role

Chapter 4

The elves understood a lot. They understood that some beings
were simply in tune with magic, that magic would always seek
to find them, as they knew lightning sought the ground.

However, they worried that such a vessel in close proximity
might draw the Eye of Zurcon, though long since caged it was.

Furthermore, there was the issue of their continued secrecy
and the miles high fireball.

Without much deliberation Shinju was blindfolded and escorted
to the edge of the bramblefields.

He counted, as instructed, to a thousand and freed his eyes.
Grey skies and a chill wind greeted him, but he could still
feel a tingling in his fingertips. He dropped the blindfold,
and with that a boy who knew nothing but grapes and the one
time kiss of magic set out into the world.

Role

Chapter 3

Shinju was a Grapetender and all his education was of the
grape. The vineyards were on nearby hills, the grapes growing
not in neat rows, but almost wild, clinging to scrub trees of
various breeds.

If one stood among those trees and sniffed the air, he would
detect a hint of salt, for it was the breath of the sea that
caressed those hills, making them such a fine place to grow
grapes.

Shinju knew of the importance of the sea's touch, just as
he knew that two grapes of the same variety, one grown clinging
to the branches of a spider-bramble the other to a titsfoot
hedge will produce two notably different wines (to the sensitive
palate.)

He also knew which insects were beneficial to each type of
grape and which were harmful. On the morning which would
ultimately decide his fate he had a problem: A swarm of bees
had landed on one of the spider-brambles and were busily
constructing a hive. The Grapemaster sent Shinju to the apiary
to get some smoke, which would disperse the bees.

The apiary's storeroom was empty, but he quickly located one of
the tinder-boxes with the nozzle and bulb which allowed for
the taming of bees. He gathered some wood shavings and grabbed
a flint and steel. Fire building was never his strong point.

At this very moment, half a world away, something was happening.
Nexun Islanders were raiding a Barbarian Village. The Commander
fell, followed by The Drillmaster, then The Mageslayer. A
Veteran of Battle fell in a bloody heap, along with two other
elder Villagers.

The Veil shrieked and grew thin. At that moment magic flooded
into various capillaries from which it had been cut off for some
time. It's said that a palsied child drinking from a fountain
in Galadon was healed at that very moment, and that the Queen
of Darsylon remembered where her ancestors had hidden some
rather powerful rings. It's even said that at that moment an
Arborian Guildmaster cracked a slight smile and uttered what
passed for a laugh.

Also, at that moment, an intensly concentrating young elf
brought steel to flint in an apiary in a hidden keep. The
resulting fireball shot high into the sky and was visible for
miles.

Role

Chapter 2

The sect is unified by two beliefs. The first is that the
The Demon-God Zurcon will eventually be released from his
ivory prison and arrive to eat the world.

The second is that magic will be powerless to banish him
again

Resultingly, the Sect has been working for thousands of years
on an "equation." The Sect believes that through the power
of numbers will the answer to banishing the beast forever
be revealed.

Why numbers? Why not magic? The Sect believes that Zurcon's
proximity to the powerful magicks which bind him in the box
will serve only to innoculate him against all that Thera's
magi will be able to muster.

While the vast majority of the Elves work the equation
day and night, there are two other tasks at work in the keep.

First is the matter of defending the knowledge. Among the
members are a group of well trained warriors, prepared at
all times should the hideway be found by those who would
seek to free the Demon-God. The Sect realizes the imperfection
of their defenses, which are all natural and rely on
landscaped illusion rather than any sort of magic shielding.

Though most of the order never leave the grounds, there are
some exceptions. The cadre of warriors has produced nearly
half-a-dozen of Thera's mightiest fighters. The lessons
learned in the keep have caused them to seek The Village of
the Battleragers, leauges beyond the walls of the Keep.

Furthermore, there are the vintners, who grow some of Thera's
finest grapes. They produce a wine that is known in all of
Thera's noble houses, and it commands a premium price.
Thus is the research paid for.

By and large the Sect is a well oiled machine. The equation
is worked. The warriors train. The vintners make. Each
child born is brought into one of these tasks, their long
life dedicated to the pursuit of excellence in mathematics,
war, or wine.

Once every few thousand years, though, one will slip through
the cracks.

Role

Chapter 1

Well known to adventurers, The Jade Elves are renowned for
closing themselves off to the world. However, there are
other groups which have sought reclusiveness, hidden behind
waterfalls, behind magickal barriers, or deep within The
Underdark.

Far away, and over a hill which looks just like any other
hill, is a tangle of brambles at the edge of a forest.
The sight of this prickered mess is enough to turn back
all but the hardiest of souls.

Those few so inclined who make their way into the hedge find
that the brambles seem to go on forever. They do not, but
thus far all that have come this far have turned back. It
seems, in this case, that being jabbed repeatedly with small,
sharp objects has been enough to deter all of Thera's heroes
who have come this way.

For argument's sake, though, let's imagine that one had
pressed on through the prickers. What would he have found?

Eventually the hedge would end and he would find a medium-
sized keep, surrounded by a tall wall set deep in a forest.
He would see that the trees had grown so tall as to render
the place invisible from the sky and if he sniffed the air,
he would detect the faint tang of wine.

This is a secret enclave of Elves. They have been here for
millenia, hidden, working on a problem they consider to be
of grave importance.

If one were to walk the halls of the keep and peer into each
room they would find that while the problem is well agreed
upon, the solution is under constant debate. The only unifying
thread that a Theran might discern is that the entire keep
bears not the slightest mark of magic.

Immortal Comments

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