Amidst the sun-kissed valleys of Farlan, the air crackled with anticipation as diplomats, converged upon the grand hall of Fenleman, the elvish capital. The high arches and intricate murals showcased centuries-old history, while banners of the three kingdoms fluttered in the breeze, signifying a rare event—a summit for peace.
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A figure stood before the grand hall, exuding an aura of unwavering resolve. Clad in polished armor bearing the sigil of her deity, Lady Luciana Oceangrain, scion of the esteemed Oceangrain family and knight of Haronloft, strode into the assembly. On her back, her halberd reflected the flickering torchlight. As Luciana moved with grace and determination, whispers stirred; her presence symbolized nobility and wealth.
"Luca!" Luciana's maid halted her before she entered the circle of delegates. "I understand that Miss Luca wishes to resolve the delegates' minor disputes, but Miss Luca needs patience! If Lord Gregory and Lady Isadora find that you've disrupted the summit or disrespected the delegates, they will be furious!"
"Isma, it's fine." Luca turned around and met her maid's gaze. "I understand how crucial this summit is. I won't mess it up." She turned back to face the delegates, took a deep breath, and proceeded to her assigned seat, preparing to wait for them to conclude their discussions.
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Amidst the bustling halls of Fenleman, an unassuming figure stood with purposeful grace. Cloaked in the humble attire of a monk, Maglath Muthalithino listened to the conversations with a gaze that hid sorrow. Her pose reflected the tempered strength acquired through a life forged in the deep conflict. Though her clothes remained unadorned by extravagant armaments, her eyes concealed the disciplined power that lay within.
"We need not for this," Mag said. Her pose showed serenity, but her face betrayed frustration. "air is plagued with chaos, and earth is sowed with doubt. Together we are strong."
"With all due respect, Miss Muthalithino, how kinna trust those lon' eared Bastards!" One of the dwarfish diplomats exclaimed. A chorus of agreements by other diplomats on his side followed his statement. "Ya dirty elves neva come down from yar trees. Oh, too high an mighty for the ol' dwarfs, aye?" This sparked even more fierce arguments from both sides. Slumping back into her chair, Mag began trying to mediate for both sides again.
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"Everyone!" A magically augmented voice pierced through the hall. "I, the matriarch of the elves, wish for a brief intermission. I was asked by one of my subjects to give him a chance. I ask for your attention to be brought to Traris Yelephicish, the pride of Fenleman! A hush fell over the assembly as a figure glided forth. Clad in robes that shimmed with a myriad of eldritch colors, Traris Yelephicish, a high elf of renowned lineage, stepped forward. Drawing his intricate sword, he began his arcane dance. Traris's every movement seemed a choreographed symphony. flowing cuts and acrobatic maneuvers trailed magic lights. The air crackled with latent magic, as his performance transcended mere martial skill. The song of his blades' dance echoes through the hall, a testament to the harmonious fusion of magic and martial. Traris Yelephicish, a living embodiment of the bladesinger's mastery. The audience stared with bated breath.
"People of Elderium! The gods' voices grow ever fainter." Traris said still, bladesinging. "If we are to survive this coming ordeal, we need to unite." Traris made a spinning motion while slashing with one of his blades. "Although magic and martial are opposites..." Traris's blades start crackling with fire and lightning. "Imagine what they can do combined!" Traris brought both of his blades together atop his head. The fire and lighting combine, showering the hall with mini fireworks and explosions.
"Wow!" The crowd cheered, and many people started to look at one another with a different expression than the one they expressed before: hope.
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Amidst the back of the grand hall, cloaked in the veils of shadow, Fennan Thalthash, a drow elf rogue, observed the proceedings with a keen eye. From his concealed vantage, he watched the elegant spectacle unfolding before him. His eyes, alight with familiarity and admiration, fixed upon the tired figure of Traris Yelephicish, his once-traveling companion. As Traris sheathed his blade, Fennan couldn't help but marvel at the mesmerizing dance, a reminder of their friendship. Hidden in the shadows, Fennan found a silent testament to the hope that even with the differences between their cultures, art, and skill might someday bridge the divide." Fennan moved to get closer, to meet his long-lost best friend. Moving quickly to avoid bumping into anyone, Fennan moved to the forefront of the crowd formed by Traris's performance. As Traris looked toward the crowd, his eyes caught Fennan. Immediately, Traris's eyes showed surprise and excitement.
"Fenn?" Traris said. The name was almost unfamiliar to him. "Could it be? Is it you?" Fenn Smiled.
"Traris, Glad to see you have improved. If it were 20 years ago, you would have fallen 10 times in your dance!" Both elves laughed. Hugging each other before smiling boyishly toward one another.
"Why did you come here, Fenn?" Traris said after a moment. "Last I heard, you were still in the Umbral citadel."
"Why waste time rotting in that hole when you're out here making history?" Fenn said. "I finished my apprenticeship a month ago, but there was no work for me to do. I figured I would explore the world." Traris showed a face of concern.
"Are you still hau(hän)..? BOOM." an explosion interrupted Traris's question.
"Ahhh!" People started to scream and panic.
"Monsters! Monsters have infiltrated the summit!"