Farra Sadora Lia'Ve is the daughter of Zaria [Priestess of Severan, Princess of Liorinin, OoL] and Sadrak [Paladin of Severan, Lord of OoL].  She was born before the the chaos that swept across the realms (Purge of 1997) which took the lives of her parents. She was then named Lia'Ve ... meaning life [In French].   After wandering the cities that stood in ruins; she stumbled across the footsteps of the Priest Cathedral.  Grief stricken and in awe of such beauty that the church beheld she pledged her loyalty to the Church and in their teachings.  After countless hours of study she learned and gained the ways of being a Priestess. After a few years she joined the ranks of Order of the Light, and witnessed through the Order of Light and Chaos Legions' series of wars.
        Farra was then later married to Weis [Omniscient Wizard of the Ethereal Cosmos, Wayfarer of Liorinin] he showed Farra the ways of Liorinin.  An Elven Clan dedicated to exploration with a family like structure. As Farra's faith in Severan grew stronger she herself grew with the elves and Liorinin. She lived a life of shelter and protection from her family of Liorinin and enjoyed the life as a Priestess of Severan. Then the Kinslayer War began. Calling for Liorinin to put up arms and to fight against Kinslayer and his allies. After long months of battles, Liorinin came out victorious. As the years past, Farra grew up in Liorinin and then later became the Southern Wind of Liorinin. 
    As the good began to fade, and OoL loosing their grasp and power within the realms, another organization appeared. The origins of the idea by Leia [Lady of Pyromancers, OoL Council Member] and the named by Farra, Circle of Faith. Cairhien [Omniscient Wizard of the Ethereal Cosmos, Lord of OoL]  and Elkanah [GM of Ninjas, OoL Council Member] joined CoF, to become CoF's four elders. CoF grew strong in membership and united the good together. After several complications, CoF dissolved within the realms. Cairhien and Leia left this plane of existence to travel to another (Darklands). 
   During the same period of time, Farra became the Assistant Guildmaster of the Priests Guild with Rodolf as her guildmaster.  As both Farra & Rodolf's terms ended, the guild witnessed several changes in GMs. From Sadrak GM & Zaria AGM [Early 1997], Eomer GM & Zaria AGM [1997-1998], Eomer GM & Deathlok AGM [1998], Rodolf GM & Farra AGM [1999], Visions GM & Vader AGM [1999], Innocence GM & Elwin AGM [2000], Innocence GM & Triptych AGM [2000], Triptych GM & Prometheus AGM [2000], Tarot GM & Korlindane AGM [2000], Korlindane GM & Rychil AGM [2001], Korlindane GM & Farra AGM [2001], Innocence GM & Farra AGM [April 2001].
   Now in the present, Farra is married to Celeborn Santriel, and still is an Elven Priestess, and as always she follows the ways of Eliatha, and the Ethereal Wind of Clan Liorinin.
 
 

                                                        
                                                       ~*~
                             The Eternal Flame
                                                       ~*~

     The rose stood on a table in the middle of the room. The soft light of
the sun streamed in past leaves and branches and reflected off the
wooden walls. The room itself was located directly inside the trunk of
the Great Tree. It was so fitting - the tree, their home, was alive.
Vibrantly so, he mused. Eluten was alive, and shared their love and
existence. It was their existence. The branches outside shuddered in
a quiet summer breeze. She stood across from him, radiant in the
resplendant light of the fading afternoon.
     He had placed the rose in a stand, had watched it carefully for any
sign of imperfection. There was none. It was alive, alive and real.
Far from the storybook images, this was here and now. The wind, he was
sure, was not going to affect the rose. It had to be perfect, because
it was perfect. It was like he imagined their life to be, perfect and
unaffected by the storms that would come. The table had to be perfectly
round, the presentation had to please her. He could do no less, and as
he thought, neither could she.
     She glanced back and forth from the timidly nervous elf and the vase
on the table. The sun sparkled off the wood grains and reflected back
into her face, giving her an aura of light. The natural luster of her
soft brown hair was magnified tenfold, outshined only by her bright
eyes. She smiled softly, which produced a sheepish smile on his face
as well. It was so lovely, the whole scene - here, he was not armed
to the teeth, not even clad in the handsome elven raiment that was
typical of Sithari. Here, he was not the Grand Protector, the strong
arm of the Elves. Here, she was not the Lady of Liorinin, the Grand
Explorer and Priestess of Eliatha. It was neither a wrathful pyromancer
nor a devoted priestess who stood before each other. It was simply a
man and a woman, two elves whose hearts were entwined as the tree
enveloped their very beings.
     When she glanced back at him one last time, she saw his vulnerability.
The most feared elf in all the Realms, furious as the tempests which
ravaged the Northern Seas, and as swift as the East Wind, stood before
her, afraid. Afraid of what she might say. Her heart melted completely,
and with one word, she sealed their love for eternity.
     "Yes."
    His heart felt as if it would leap out of his chest at her acceptance.
All tension was gone, all anxiety fled, as they became one. He held out
his arms, strong and bronzed by the sun, yet tender and gentle. His
leather bracers, chosen for the occasion, wrapped tightly around her
back as they held each other. The sun slowly dipped beyond the horizon,
and the trees began to sway in the evening breeze, but inside that one
room, in the warm glow of the elven lamps being lit, they held each
other still. Her warmth pulsed through his body, and he realized once
again how beautiful she was, even in the simple garment she had chosen.
     Her green eyes gazed gently and fondly into his. Silence prevailed as
even their breathing slowed. The moment was all there was, they existed
forever like this. Two warm bodies in a sea of fading trees, who would
not be disturbed by the elves outside preparing for another night of
singing and feasting. The lamps shone brightly into the darkness - the
lamp at the entrance to the room he had chosen had been left dark, and
the two were softly illuminated by the light of the moon. Looking like
twin shades in the austere glow of the moonlight, they were still
sealed in one another's embrace, for a moment, they were forever.

                                                   ~*~

     The day had come at last, when Celeborn would finally make his love
known to the Realms. In the garden many chairs were set up, along with
a vast assortment of foodstuffs, drinks, and baubles from around the
Realms. Celeborn hadn't wanted it in the busy city of Treeth - he
imagined a quiet ceremony closer to home, but tradition and status
dictated the circumstances. The sky was a clear cerulean, with only a
few of the whitest clouds floating by. The sun smiled down on the
garden and the rows of seats, a happy spectator to the event. Flowers
of all types and from all corners of the Realms were growing - some
guests even whispered that Farra had imported the newest types from
Llyn.
     Of course, the event couldn't help being publicized, he mused. The
pundits had to get their chance too - they declared it was all a crafty
manipulation on either his or Farra's part, an alliance between two
elven orgs. Most critics were lower ranking members of Clan Elspeth, a
fact Celeborn had to acknowledge. Overhanging the gazebo were the
crests of the two clans - both councils had considered these imperative
aspects. He hated it, but he knew it was true. Celeborn would have
liked it to be just the joining of a man and his wife, but he had to
face the facts: it would indeed mean a Clan alliance.
     Although the guests milling about were predominantly elven, some
humans, half-elves, and even a gnome or two were present. People came
from cities far across the Realms for this event, perhaps in the hopes
of securing a political advantage out of the marriage, or perhaps out
of friendship for the elves. Farra noticed Yoteran merchants, nobles
from Treeth, Rhone metallurgists, Dwarven brewers, and even Laodiceans
present. All bustled around in an assortment of clothes and colors
    The scent of the flowers was intoxicating, she thought. The sheer
thought of this day had kept her awake many nights, lying in
anticipation of the union. No longer would they be separated, after
the ceremony they would live forever as one. She had spent the better
part of the morning in the Cathedral rooms with friends making herself
ready for what was to come. Her arms were lightly perfumed with the
scent of an oil found in the Akiran desert, and her face was lightly
scented with the pungent odor of the leaves of elderberry. The white
dress she wore was simple, yet practically glowed with the happiness
she felt. She knew it must be perfect - this one event must be as that
first night they had spent under the stars together. Her wrists were
adorned with the finery of Liorinin, her bracelet glinted in the
sunlight to reveal in the finest silver tracery a dragon chasing the
wind. Her hairdressers had spent the entire morning chittering about
how splendid it would be, but they didn't even begin to comprehend
what she was feeling. The smell of the flowers took her once more into
an uplifted state.
     Almost an hour passed with Farra and Celeborn in their reveries before
the guests became sufficiently acquainted to sit down. Hundreds of
chairs filled the gazebo, with a plain pulpit and altar at the top.
A statue of Eliatha carved from the living wood of Eluten stood at the
base of the platform, smiling down upon her subjects as the goddess
surely was. A harpist played quietly and eloquently on the side as the
guests became situated. Finally it was time to begin.
     The maids of honor and the warriors Celeborn had chosen stood on the
platform, waiting for Innocence to arrive. They shuffled nervously and
toyed with their clothing. The warriors obviously weren't used to
wearing the formal elven clothing, which had been handstitched by the
elven seamstresses especially for the occasion. The simple jerkins
worn by the men were embroidered with the Symbol of Sithari, and the
dresses of the handmaidens reflected the wind. A slow breeze rustled
the flowers.
     Celeborn had chosen to dress much as he did that first night, with
only the necessary touches of formality adorning his clothing. The
raiment of Sithari was draped about his shoulders, and he felt he had
to look his best for this day - the most important of his life. He had
planned it so carefully with her, it couldn't go wrong.

                                                   ~*~

     The gift still lay on her nightstand. In the shade of the leaves it
could still be seen glowing softly with an inner light that could
never quite be quenched. Even in the presence of other light, it made
them seem artificial and weak while it radiated a wholesome warm glow.
The nightstand contained many objects precious to her - the gift, of
course, along with a portrait of him and a necklace. The lights in the
gift danced with joy in the transparent sphere, and cast happy shadows
on the wooden walls despite the lack of an audience. How soon this
home would be occupied by two elves! The lights flared up again.
     The Priestess and her train had arrived at the garden, relieving
the garden of all but the most hushed of whispers. As she walked up the
center of the aisle to the pulpit at the head of the gazebo, she
glanced on the guests. Some were staring at the beautifully dressed
maids, wondering if perhaps their own wedding would not soon follow.
Others seemed happy to the point of tears that a union long awaited
would finally be fulfilled. Some were amazed that the Guildmistress
herself had come to perform the ceremony. She smiled inwardly - she
was no more the Guildmistress this day than Farra was her assistant and
Ethereal Wind. She reached the pulpit, and her attendants broke off
to the wings, gossiping among themselves of which of the guests was
most handsome, and richest.
     Celeborn emerged from a smaller gazebo at the other end of the garden,
fervently hoping he was prepared. Trying to shake off all anxiety, he
whispered a quick prayer to Eliatha. Quickly, he became surrounded by
an aura of confidence as he walked to the pulpit. Bells rang inside the
Cathedral, and the sun chased all shadows far away. Celeborn stood at
the base of the platform looking up at Innocence. Both were lost in
their own thoughts, filled with a powerful essence that seemed to come
with the gravity of the day.
     Farra peeked out of her gazebo slightly later, making sure everything
about her was right. Shaking her dress one last time, she drew the veil
over her face. It did not quite entrap the twinkling sparkle of her
eyes. A radiant aura surrounded her as she walked in a stately manner
out of the gazebo. Paying too much attention to her posture, she
nearly walked into the flower beds. Blushing, she turned and quickly
began to walk down the aisle. So this was it. As the sweet smell of
exotic flowers floated up to her and the music drifted past her, she
felt as if she were walking into the Gates of Heaven themselves. After
what seemed an eternity, she reached Celeborn, where he smiled fondly
at her, with a twinkle in his eye as well. She knew he had seen her
mistake, but he didn't care. She loved that about him - he was always
so carefree - she didn't have to be the reflection of etiquette around
Celeborn.
     Innocence whispered one last prayer to the sky as she prepared to
begin the ceremony. She had made sure all the necessary preparations
had been made - she could not disappoint her friends any more than the
most powerful elves in Eluten. She chided herself for thinking such
things. This was not about that. It was her best friends coming
together in a happy union which she could not but bless.
     Celeborn glanced away from Farra for a second, he smiled at his
friends both at the altar and in the crowd. Celeborn even noticed the
Wanderer among them - a tall elf cloaked in robes of arcane power. He
could come and go as he wished, and as Celeborn was full of passion,
he was the pinnacle of patience - furious in battle, but calculating
and devastating. He wandered the Realms, always searching for something
else. And who knew why he chose to attend the wedding? He had spoken
with Celeborn of course, as all powerful elves eventually did, but it
had only been news, or strategy. Then he'd be off again, to pursue a
complicated agenda in which only a wizard could find peace. Celeborn
turned back to his bride.
     "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here..."
     It had begun. Both stood in rapt attention, not listening to the words
so much as the sounds. Her practiced voice rang out as a bell over the
masses below, rising and falling as a steady wind carries a feather.
They listened to the ceremony only in part, acknowledging that they
had heard and performing the correct actions, but caught in the moment
as it had been that first night. Here was a love beyond love, the two
became one in thought, in action, in soul. She presented her hand, her
bracelet slipped back slightly, and he gently slipped the ring onto
her finger. Once again, they stared back into each other's eyes - pools
of pure joy and love. How deeply they had wanted each other before,
wanting to be close, but it could wait until later. Celeborn and Farra
were no longer close, they were one.
     The moment seemed to last forever, yet at the same time it passed in
a whirlwind for them. Each wanted to relive the sensations the last
phrase elicited, each wanted to remain in such a state forever. The
crowd was not present, the attendants were not there, and even
Innocence faded away as their hearts intertwined forever. Finally,
almost with regret, they faded back to reality from that pinnacle of
experience.
     "Do you, Celeborn Santriel, take Farra Lia'Ve to be..."
     Celeborn reflected on the power of that question. Would he be there,
in sickness and health for her? For better or worse, no doubt of that.
And she would finally be undeniably his. The sensation was exhilirating
and yet heavy.
     "I do."
     "And do you, Farra Lia'Ve, take Celeborn Santriel to be your lawfully
wedded husband..."
     She was filled with an unbounding joy, solemn in happiness, and she
could not help smiling as all the love she had ever known came rushing
from her heart. She gazed at him, knowing he was feeling the same.
Farra was also captivated by the words now, knowing she would be there
for him, always, no matter what. Ready to fling her arms around her
mate, she could barely keep her voice calm.
    "I do."
     "Then by the power vested in me by the Goddess Eliatha, I pronounce
 you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."
     He gently lifted the veil to gaze on the radiant face behind it for
a moment, then quickly flung his arms around her and kissed her as if
for the first time. All their emotions came flooding out into that one
union, as they locked in an embrace of unquenchable fire. All his love
was contained in that one action, all he felt for her was released into
her mouth as they hungrily grasped each other again. Finally, they
released each other and breathed, their pounding hearts slowing until
they could hear the cheering crowd. He pulled her into another embrace,
less passionate this time, but filled with a gentle expression of
undying love. She returned the favor.
     The reception had been magical, filled with exotic entertainment,
including a tame dragon which rivaled the Wyverns of the Dark Knights.
The Wanderer had conjured up artifacts in the blink of an eye from
such rare venues as the Labyrinth and the Planes of Llyn. To the
children present, he told tales of ancient ruins below in which lived
fearsome tribes of barbarians, or giant crabs with the capability of
surviving the most vicious attacks. He spoke of the Sahaguin, violent
and unreasonable fish men who attacked all who invaded their territory.
He told of the mermaids who had fallen to their wrath, and beings more
fearsome still who dwelt in Raven's Strait. There were castles far off
and kingdoms in the clouds where airy giants hurled lightning. None of
this could compare to the excitement Farra and Celeborn felt - they
were one now, never to be separated. They already felt older as they
were husband and wife - they looked on the children in the story circle
as their own.
     Wine was abundant and flowing freely, but Celeborn was feeling happily
drunk without it. In a dream that would never end, he wandered the
reception grounds, eating, visiting, and enjoying an evening where no
one but Farra mattered. When the time came to cut the cake, he and
Farra made such a business about it as made everyone laugh in great
fun. The champagne was similarly sipped, and some spilled down
Celeborn's chin. They spent the evening arm in arm until finally it
was time to throw the bouquet. As the multitude of young ladies lined
up, Farra looked wistfully at the flowers. How she would have liked to
keep them! But it was much more fun this way, and Celeborn was better
company than any flower. She pressed closer to his warm body as she
threw the array high over the back of her head into the crowd. An elven
child, no more than seven years old, triumphantly hoisted it above her
head. Farra smiled with benevolence upon them, knowing they couldn't
begin to understand how happy she was.
     Celeborn similarly threw the garter, although it was to a more raucous
crowd, and a elf in his prime caught it. Smiling winningly, he winked
at numerous ladies about him.
     Finally, it was time for the dance. The crowd formed a circle about
an area covered with flagstones and the two stepped in. Musicians in
the trees above played soft flute music as the hauntingly beautiful
sound of a single viola formed the prelude. Celeborn took Farra in his
arms and they listened to the music from the sky. Paper lanterns lit
the area now, and in the warm light their faces practically glowed.
Then began the waltz, accompanied by the harpists and performed by
a group of strings. From the finest schools of Amador were hired these
musicians, and they played a sweet piece which drifted up to heaven
to please the gods. Celeborn and Farra simply stared into each other's
eyes, secure in the fact that each belonged to the other, and they
would never be alone again. When the music stopped and the crowd
applauded, the two barely noticed, still lost in the depth of each
other.
     The other guests now stepped onto the dance floor, and it went long
into the night. When finally the reception was over, and priests in
training came to clean it up, the Wanderer solely remained. Celeborn
looked quizzically at him, but for only a moment. Without a word, he
traced his hands in an arcane pattern and mouthed a silent incantation.
The world blurred before their eyes, and when reality shifted back,
they were on the branch leading to Liorinin. The Wanderer was nowhere
to be found, and Celeborn could only conclude that he had whisked
himself away to the distant mountains, or perhaps his home in Sithari.
It did not matter. They were alone at last. Alone, but together, the
way it would always be. The stars shone brightly down upon them and
the sound of an owl could be heard in the distance. They ascended
the breeze to the room, the room where the gift was waiting. As
Celeborn grasped her with strong arms and carried her in, they were
once again were locked in a moment, a moment of eternity.

                                                   ~*~

    She reflected on that night again, as she was alone on the branch.
Alone, but not alone, as his presence was constantly beside her in
spirit. He was off performing his duties again, and she often worried
for him. Drow had once again been sighted in the forest, and he had to
face them with his elite cadre of Sithari warriors. She had come on
several occasions, but her duty as the priestess was not to be by his
side. Several times before, he had almost not come back, and often she
had to spend days over his bed, healing him. He had offered several
times to step down, but she would not have it any other way. Still,
tonight it was a larger band than usual, and she wanted to be held.
     The amulet flared against his chest, a deep red which burned his very
soul. Invaders were near. Peering around a stand of ash, Celeborn and
his elite scouts surveyed the area. The drow had chosen twilight for
their assault, and the lengthening shadows made them hard to see, even
for an elf. Using quick hand signals, Celeborn signaled the rest of his
council to step forward, each surrounded by elite bodyguards. The core
of the unit were elven bladedancers, skilled in both woodcraft and the
art of war. Several rangers and scouts with arrows nocked stood in
front, and the magic users were each surrounded by several elite
fighters. This was a strategy that had cost many fighters their lives,
but Celeborn insisted upon it as the casters would often inflict the
most damage. Moving silently through the wood, their cloaks kept them
from sight.
     A twig snapped underfoot somewhere, and every elf wheeled to in the
direction. It was only an advance scout who had made a mistake. If he
survived, Celeborn would speak with him personally. He reflected on his
position as the Grand Protector of Telasier. Although there were older
and wiser members of the Clan Sithari, he had proven his leadership
ability in battle time and time again. Rather than passing it on to the
next elder, the Clan had decided that its best hope lay with Celeborn.
They had not been wrong. His legendary battle skills were soon put to
the test, and he had prevailed every time with minimal losses. However,
he found himself rather at a loss on the political field. There, the
Clan elders spoke for him - his place, important figurehead and
tactician though he was, was in the fray.
     Since he had met Farra though, he had been different. No longer so
reckless, he paid special attention to the safety of the unit. Twice
as many bodyguards had been implemented, and it was speculated that she
was influencing him away from his calling. Celeborn knew it was all
lies. His victories still kept the drow out of the city, and he had
lost even fewer soldiers than ever before. Now, however, he did not
imagine he would be so lucky. Liorinin intelligence had reported that
at least eighty drow were on their way, led by clerics and shadowmages.
It would not be a good fight, any way he looked at it. Elspeth traps
and mystics were being deployed behind him, but it was unlikely that
they'd be ready by the time the enemy arrived.
     A shadow flitted past, and Celeborn instinctively pivoted on his right
foot to meet it. It was only a thrush, flying by peacefully. The next
sound he heard was of bracken crackling behind him, and out emerged a
young runner.
     "Quiet!" hissed Celeborn
     "I'm sorry, my lord, but this is an urgent message from the Ethereal
Wind, the Lady of Liorinin."
     "Oh? Give it to me, and return more quietly than you came, if you
value your life." The elf hung his head, and handed over the scroll.
    "Thank you, you may report to her that all is well so far, and that I
give her my love. You will say that, won't you?"
     "Of course, my lord."
     "Good, now run along," Celeborn spoke, but not unkindly. The runner
took special care to tread only in the thickest grass as he returned to
Eluten. He unrolled the scroll and signaled for everyone to halt and
remain on guard.

My dearest Celeborn,

    Liorinin wind sorcerers have detected another contingent of drow
   heading toward your position. I have them watching you at all times,
   and the area directly around you, and when this message gets to you,
   in all due speed, they will not have reached your perimeters. Scouts
   report by way of Wind that at least seventy more drow are coming.
   I pray to Eliatha for your safety, and I wish you were here.

                                      ~Farra Santriel~

     Celeborn felt despair welling deep in his stomach. Seventy more! His
unit was barely forty strong - Sithari had over four hundred warriors,
but only about twenty percent had seen serious combat, and they were
the only ones he deemed able to deal with the experienced drow that
attempted to invade. Their armies were never unprepared, having
traveled days under the cover of shadow to the forests of the elves.
Seventy more! Even if he called for the full military support of all
Eluten - that would mean emptying the tree itself of all defenders -
they would still probably suffer terrible losses. Elspeth would not be
able to send more than it had already, the rest relied on the security
provided by Sithari. Liorinin was never heavily armed, as they acted
as intelligence support. Celeborn quickly ran through the options in
his head. Nothing would work. No doubt the elven race would destroy a
few drow invaders, but just a small renegade band of elite drow could
decimate the legions of Sithari. Celeborn always tried to maintain
honorable combat. The warriors of Lloth did not.
     Celeborn imagined he had about five minutes before the invaders
reached his forward post. It would be business as usual, striking hard
then slowly retreating into the forest until the invaders reached the
traps and the mystics finished their complex rituals. This time,
however, his forward unit might not be able to destroy enough of the
drow before they reached the city. There was no doubt the elves would
triumph in the end, but to Celeborn, civilian death was unacceptable.
There were two minutes remaining.

                                                   ~*~

     The shadows moved silently through the forest, hoping to avoid the
elves they knew were ahead. If they could only move around them, they
could slaughter the entire city before the Homeguard could respond.
The bloodlust of Lloth, however, called to the warriors, and many
wanted to drive their cold steel into warm elven flesh as quickly as
possible. The cleric checked their progress, and summoned several
small arachnids from a plane filled with hatred, pain, and despair.
Small enough they would not be noticed for anything more than a normal
spider in the woods, they skittered off under the direction of the will
of the cleric to ascertain the position of the elves.
     "Lord," whispered a sentry.
     "What?" asked Celeborn.
     "Over there!" The guard pointed at the leaf litter to the west. A
small brown spider walked carefully about, looking at everything. "It's
them!" Another spider from the south. Celeborn was glad he had trained
his sentries to watch for such creations - they weren't spiders at all,
dark strands of energy bound to a form to be the eyes of the cleric.
In the underdark, the clerics could weave this strands into any web
they liked, including shadows and the terrain itself. Celeborn
performed a simple hand signal and elves behind him pressed against
the trees and remained silent. In their cloaks, it would be hard to
see the elves in the fading light. The spiders approached more closely,
examining their surroundings. Suddenly one vanished - a small dark
cloud arose from the leaves on which it was standing. So they didn't
last forever. As all the spiders they were monitoring returned to the
Abyss, the elves relaxed slightly. The amulet nearly burned Celeborn
in anticipation. The rangers held their bows ready to fire.
     After ten minutes, no drow had appeared. Mages let the power running
through their corporeal forms dissipate back into the earth, and the
rangers released their hold on the bowstrings. Perhaps it would be a
long night. Celeborn ordered the group moved into a ring with the magic
users in the center. The sun set beyond the branches.
     A sound behind them startled Celeborn. It was a piercing agonizing
cry, and Celeborn surmised that it was elven by the tone. The vanguard
whirled around, ready to face any new menace. Celeborn cursed his
ineptitude. The drow had snuck around him and approached the tree from
a different venue!
     The company reversed its position immediately, turning to the north
toward the tree. Another ghastly death cry pierced the air. With only
the rear guard facing toward the rest of the forest, the Homeguard
sprinted through the forest, taking care to avoid the traps. When they
reached the site of the scream, they saw a young elven scout on the
ground, shuddering in uncontrollable pain and fear. His abdomen had
been sliced open, and his entrails had spilled out beside him. Blood
pooled all around him as his eyes glazed over. Celeborn screamed in
rage. The entire company turned as one and followed the footprints in
the leaves. It was not long before they encountered their foes.
     With the battle cry of Sithari on his lips, Celeborn raced forward,
flanked by two elite bladedancers and an elven ranger. They were
getting closer to Danyael Ravenblade and his wife, and there was
no sign any of the traps had been effectual. In a minute, they were
upon the drow. Celeborn lost track of time and invoked an ancient spell
of wrath, calling all the energy of righteous hatred and anger into
his very being. Channeling the energy through himself, he intoned a few
archaic cantrips and the world exploded in flames. Shadows all around
fell to the ground, writhing in agony as the hellfire burned their
flesh away. The remainder, surprised by the assault, turned on the
Sithari without any semblance of order. A warrior drew twin scimitars
and flitted across the battlefield to Celeborn. He cut down a ranger
who had just fired his last arrow into the fray. Celeborn's vanguard
in turn sliced his chest open with a bladedance technique. He fell to
the ground gurgling blood.
     Sithari mages once against summoned the energy of the forest and of
planes far from the Realms, and the ground nearly glowed as the nexus
of power coalesced. From one wizard's hand came a light which tore
through the opposing mages with all the colors of the spectrum. As
rays pierced their black bodies, the energy released tore them apart
from the inside. A water-mage invoked the power of Aqua Planum and
the air itself froze around his unfortunate targets, suffocated and
lost forever in the icy prison. The enemy mages spun strands of
darkness into bolts and missiles which tore through Celeborn's company.
Several elves choked on the pervading darkness, and fell to the ground
clutching their throats in agony. A few turned on their comrades, and
Celeborn had to order his men to kill them as well.
     Celeborn searched around him for his next target, and his eyes
reflected the berserk fury of the the Eternal Flame he had always
loved. He was quickly losing control, moving to the point where he
would obliterate any drow in his path, regardless of the danger to
himself. He summoned the power of the inner fires and wrapped himself
in a shell of blazing protection - images flickered about his being,
making it difficult to see where he truly was. Even his bodyguards
cringed at the searing heat of his presence, and they fell back,
attacking warriors where possible. Several warriors moved stealthily
towards their backs, and with a swift whirling motion one of them drew
his blades and neatly cut the spinal cord on both bladedancers. As they
lost control of their bodies, the scimitars plunged through their
chests, spraying blood all over the forest floor. Celeborn screamed
in fury and released his divine energy upon them once again. A great
maw of flame incinerated that area of the forest, and the hapless
warriors screamed uncontrollably as the raging flame consumed their
souls.
     All across the forest the battle raged, with the drow suffering losses
but slowly pushing the elves toward Eluten. Trees from various battles
of magic were burning, and the fire was spreading as well. Eventually,
the elves were pushed back to the clearing, having lost a large number
of their fighters. Suddenly, several of the drow broke through the
Sithari line and rushed toward the stairs to ascend the Tree of Eluten.
Celeborn's alchemists rushed to freeze them in their tracks, and a
war wizard summoned the earth to reach up and latch them in place. It
was too late, they would reach the stairway and cause untold carnage.
The elves watched in horror as the drow moved closer and closer to
their home, and time stood still for a moment, with fighting on both
sides stopping.
     Out of the shadows stepped two elves, one in the garb of the mystics,
and the other with the proud crest of the bladedancers. As one, they
leapt toward the drow and silently drew their weapons. Two of the
drow fell immediately, but the third managed to pierce Danyael through
the side. As he fell gasping in pain, his wife stepped in front of him
in the form of a terrifying werebeast with 4 gleaming swords. With her
two unarmed hands, she grabbed the warrior who was attempting to flee
and plunged her swords deep within his body, and twisted. His limp form
fell to the forest floor, impaled. Celeborn gaped in disbelief as
Danyael slumped to the ground, and immediately howled in twin fury
and sadness. Unleashing the full power of the Eternal Flame and the
source he could tap into as the Guildmaster, Celeborn set the entire
perimeter of the clearing ablaze. Flames rushed toward the drow as
they struggled to escape the burning forest, and the night glowed
with the intensity of the sun. With desperate fury, the drow army
surged toward the Sithari blades, many dying immediately. However their
brutal assault cost Sithari lives as well, and several mages were cut
down, one beheaded by a swift blow. Celeborn was struck numerous times
but outraged drow, who fell away burning and tearing at their flesh.
After a few vicious minutes, the drow offensive failed and they
retreated to a core surrounding their own casters. A cleric shrieked
a dire prayer to Lloth, and pointed at Celeborn. Suddenly he felt
weak and numb, and tired.
     Celeborn wanted to lie down, to succumb to the venom inside him. He
was no longer the blazing incarnation of fury - his flame was quenched
and he felt weaker by the minute. Although he understood a battle was
taking place around him, he felt confused and helpless. Out of the
darkness came a terrible voice in his mind, telling him to submit and
die.
     Slowly, he reached for the vial on his belt, the antidote to the
lethal venom. His body disobeyed him, and he could not reach the liquid
which would save him. Finally, from a hidden strength within, or a
boon from Eliatha, he managed to grasp the vial and open it. Spilling
a large amount over his chin in an attempt to drink, he managed to get
a few drops inside his mouth, and though his tongue felt heavy and
ponderous, he swallowed with a great effort. Seconds passed, and he
felt weaker. His burning shield flickered and faded away.
     Suddenly, he felt much better, as though the antidote had taken
effect. While still weak, he was able to perceive the battle clearly.
His own flames had almost reached him, and he realized he was sweating
in the heat. He reached for another vial on his belt, a green-colored
liquid which would restore him to full strength. The burning in his
arms disappeared gradually, and he sprang to his feet. The cleric
shrieked in dismay only an instant before the fire of Eliatha burned
her to a skeleton.
     The rest of the drow were quickly dispatched, most trying to fight
their way out of the clearing and take their chances in the burning
forest. Celeborn could think clearly again: they had won, but the
seventy he had been warned about had not yet arrived. With the losses
they had taken, they would not survive a second assault. The area
reeked of burnt flesh, and the fires were slowly being put out by
weary alchemists, teary-eyed from the smoke and the loss of their
friends. Celeborn leaned on his staff and watched.
     Where were the others? Did they somehow manage to sneak to a more
strategic location during the recent battle? Celeborn pondered the
questions in his mind, still recovering from the trauma of the venom
which had only recently been neutralized. As he was thinking, a vortex
of energy appeared in front of him. Celeborn quickly began gathering
power to incinerate whoever this invader was, and as the vortex merged
into a corporeal figure, he released a searing fireball at it. The
figure looked surprised, but none the worse for the intensity of the
flame which had just pummeled it. Indeed, the disappearing vortex
seemed to have absorbed all the energy, leaving the cloaked figure
behind.
     "This is not quite the greeting I expected, Lord Celeborn." It was
an elven wizard whom he did not know. "Do not look so surprised, I
was sent here by a friend of yours, but I apparently arrived too late."
     "This is no time for-"
     "No, you have seventy-six more drow heading toward you."
     "Then what-"
     "I am here to assist you as instructed."
     "Look, there are dead Sithari all over, I don't have the time for your
cryptic remarks." Celeborn stood ready in case of a trick.
     "You are to come with me."
     "No! I don't even know who you are, and why I'm not killing you."
Celeborn motioned for two bladedancers to approach him.
     "Come with me, and you need not face the drow."
     "No! I must defend Eluten!"
     "You will. If you do not come with me, your entire company will be
slaughtered, and your ranks decimated before the elves expel the drow
from ransacking your precious tree." Celeborn sighed. He might as well
take a chance, he could always teleport back if he needed to. He gave
quick instructions to his field commanders and returned to the wizard.
     "We will go, if quickly. If you are tricking me-"
     "I am not." The world faded and Celeborn found himself in a vortex of
transcendant energy. As soon as he had stepped in, however, he found
himself in another part of the forest, close to a bridge far from
Eluten.
     "Why did you bring me here?"
     "You will triumph over the drow here." The wizard pointed at a stand
of trees. "Ignite those." Celeborn focused his energy and with a few
gestures the grove burst into flames. "The rest of your company will
come now." In a few moments, Celeborn was standing with his army. They
looked around in confusion at their new surroundings. Celeborn quieted
them. "Scream and shout as much as you can. I must go now." The wizard
stepped back into a pool of energy and disappeared. Celeborn cursed.
He had left Eluten unprotected, open to the ravages of the drow. He had
been so stupid, to trust a wizard like that! Who knew what agendas
they had? His army, however, began to scream.
     The drow silently approached, having gotten disoriented by the forest
and attracted by the sounds of battle nearby. They approached
Celeborn's position, and prepared for battle. Celeborn understood now!
He ordered his army across the bridge except for himself and his
vanguard. He then cut the bridge, and it fell swinging into the canyon.
Celeborn had a Sithari wizard prepare a teleport beacon across the
canyon, and waited.
     When the drow saw the few elves left standing, they did not notice the
gaping chasm in the earth. A cleric whispered hurried commands, and as
one the huge drow offensive charged forward. Celeborn unleashed a
torrent of flame upon them, and quickly retreated closer and closer to
the edge of the canyon. As the drow broke into a full run toward their
victims, Celeborn smirked and the Sithari wizard teleported them to
the beacon on the other side. Rangers rained arrows down upon the
charging enemy, and before they could stop themselves, the drow
realized there was a canyon. Most fell into the crevasse, unable to
stop themselves. The remainder were cut down by elven arrows, with
shafts of the greenwood which was burning only a few hundred feet away.
The drow stragglers were quickly mowed down, and Celeborn prepared to
teleport to Eluten.
     They had won, the battle was over.

                                                   ~*~

     She had been so worried, and not without good cause. Only half of the
warriors returned alive to Eluten, the rest having died in what the
Council had called "valiant defense" of the homeland. There were many
that had required healing, including her courageous husband, but the
time for grieving was yet to come, and now she was simply glad he was
safe. The homeland was safe. As she ascended the stair to their bed,
she reflected on how much he meant to Eluten. She was a bit jealous,
she wanted him all to herself.
     As she reached their room, she saw him already lying on the bed, not
asleep, but lying in lazy anticipation. She sat next to him, gazing
fondly into his eyes. She knew she could not lose him. Not to the drow,
and not to anyone. He propped himself up on his elbow and wrapped his
free arm around her. Sharing a slow and deep kiss, they fell back onto
the bed, neither wanting to release the other.
     "I love you, Celeborn."
     "I love you too."
     "I couldn't bear to lose you... it's not fair! All they're concerned
about is causing pain and grief, they can't understand.. and they want
to take you from me."
     "I won't leave you, I promise."
     "I know.. but it's just not fair."
     "I know. I know. Maybe someday.. I don't know, it's just the way the
world is." Neither spoke further. He wrapped his arm around her neck,
and she curled into his body. Both feeling infinitely glad the other
was still alive, still there, they fell asleep in the early morning.
The sun rose on them, still asleep, and still locked in each other's
arms.

-Erestor, 9/01