Din'anshiral, The Path of Death: A Dragon Age Quest
- Thread starter Fingon888
- Start date
- Fantasy
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- Tags
- dragon age open voting
- Location
- Czech Republic
[X] Mythal, the Protector and the All-Mother, and goddess of love, is the patron of motherhood and justice and leads the pantheon with her male counterpart, Elgar'nan.
[X] Mythal, the Protector and the All-Mother.
[X] Mythal, the Protector and the All-Mother, and goddess of love, is the patron of motherhood and justice and leads the pantheon with her male counterpart, Elgar'nan.
Both for her aspect of Protector and the fact that, well, she's actually still around.
Edit: Also because her Tattoo looks the best by a wide margin.
Both for her aspect of Protector and the fact that, well, she's actually still around.
Edit: Also because her Tattoo looks the best by a wide margin.
Last edited:
- Location
- Ohio
[X] Falon'Din is the elven God of Death and Fortune and guides the dead to the Beyond. He and his twin brother, Dirthamen, are the eldest children of Elgar'nan the All-Father and Mythal the Protector.
- Location
- Reno
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[x] Andruil the Huntress, also known as the Lady of Fortune, is the elven goddess of the hunt.
- Location
- nz
[X] Mythal, the Protector and the All-Mother, and goddess of love, is the patron of motherhood and justice and leads the pantheon with her male counterpart, Elgar'nan.
- Location
- United Kingdom
[X] Mythal, the Protector and the All-Mother, and goddess of love, is the patron of motherhood and justice and leads the pantheon with her male counterpart, Elgar'nan.
Eternal_0bserver
(Unverified Bookworm)
- Location
- Earth, Northern Europe
[X] Falon'Din is the elven God of Death and Fortune and guides the dead to the Beyond. He and his twin brother, Dirthamen, are the eldest children of Elgar'nan the All-Father and Mythal the Protector.
Chapter 1.1
- Location
- Fear and Loathing in Red Moscow
Chapter 1
Mythal'enaste
Part 1
Mythal'enaste
Part 1
Ellas lay upon the stone altar and felt the whipping winds of the world curl about him and lash upon his face and eyes. Venurmytha stood above him and finished her prayer, touching softly the face of Mythal. She smiled and without speaking took the blade which bore the ceremonial ink to Ellas's face, tattooing upon him the symbol of a tree over his brow, branching out in many directions. Ellas had not felt such great pain in all his life, though he recollected in that moment how free of care and concern much of his happy childhood had been.
It was forbidden among the People to cry out in pain during the application of the blood writing. To make known one's suffering was to bring shame and dishonor to the family and oneself and to prove also that he was unworthy before the gods. Though there was no audience for Ellas as was customary among the People, Ellas knew that any failure on his part to maintain perfect composure would result in his mistress ceasing the ritual. Would she send him back in shame to Halamshiral? Ellas did not think so. Venurmytha would console him and train him for longer, telling him that he was simply not ready for such a burden. No one in all the Dirthavaren would know, but Ellas would. He could not bear such shame. Thus, he held his tongue and not a sound passed his clenched jaw. He looked up into the face of Mythal, the Great Protector, and recalled the legends of Elvhenan when in the face of injustice the People would beseech her for recompense, fearing ever the vengeance of the All-Father.
Within himself Ellas sang out a prayer to the All-Mother, "Mythal! Hear my vow! I dedicate myself to you and the Elvhen, to heal our wounds, to be the blade of our peace, to restore to greatness our kingdom. Hold me to this path All-Mother, and guide me now!" Against the bright sky the statue shone in stark contrast, and yet no words came to Ellas in his moment of spiritual dedication. Elvhenan was lost to him, as it was lost to all his people, and the Gods of his people cast forever to the farthest reaches of the Beyond. But not yet were the towers of Halamshiral or the wooded dells of the Dirthavaren lost. To them were his words directed, though he knew it not then.
At last the ritual was complete. Venurmytha brushed a finger over Ellas's cheek, getting his attention. Her aged face obscured much of the old beauty which he was sure she possessed in the morning of her youth but her eyes still sparkled like twin stars. She had a kind look on her face, knowing full well the experience he had just gone through. "Mythal'enaste." She said and took his hand and helped him from the altar. They passed down from Hahren'alastarsyl in silence, with only the whipping cords of the wind for walking music.
At last they arrived at the home of Venurmytha, a small cottage near the shrine of Mythal. The weather was cool and the east wind which had so chilled them on Elder Mountain was now shielded by the Frostbacks behind them as they walked through the simple foyer. Alchemical and herbal ingredients piled up around the workbenches of the main room. Strings of plants hung from planters suspended by chains and vines seemed to grow through the wood. Ellas had come to know this small cottage very well and was convinced that it would be gone in a matter of years, swallowed whole by the woods.
Venurmytha gifted Ellas food and supplies for the journey to Halamshiral. As he packed his belongings he strapped his dar'misu to his belt and gazed at the sketch of him and his friends when they were just children. He had not seen them or his parents for too long. He was ready to return to his home and find his path.
The year was young when Ellas departed the valley where Venurmytha Rasa dwelt. Spring was only a few weeks away, the cold was subsiding and the snow that littered this part of the world was receding up into the mountains. It was a two week's journey to Halamshiral by foot and the first sign of civilization was four days away. He hoped that on the fourth night of his journey he would be able to reach Crossroads Inn, a homely house that serviced travellers in this region of the Frostback foothills. He had been there on a couple occasions as most travellers seeking Venurmytha's valley would stop and rest at the Crossroads Inn and also confirm directions for the rest of the journey. Ellas had first stopped there all those long years ago when he had first left Halamshiral to apprentice with Rasa at the tender age of twelve. The innkeeper was a kindly old elf who unlike almost all elves seemed to be able to grow quite an impressive paunch and hearty look. In the intervening years Ellas had journeyed there on occasion as it was the only place near the valley to find good wine or Dwarven beer.
So Ellas walked alone in the great countryside of the foothills of the Frostbacks. He did not fear anything in this country as he had walked it on a thousand occasions. The winding road was broken by roots of the great trees, fell often into sharp and unseen dells, and twisted against the banks of streams and cliffs without warning; and yet, Ellas could walk this path blindfolded. As he walked he sang a tune to the soft music of a passing stream that Davhalla had created on a long walk with the company of friends in a garden belonging to Ladahlen's temple. The song was in the language of the People, as they remembered it in Halamshiral in those days, but it ran like this in the common tongue, as near as can be made.
The howls of wolves nip my heels
While stars above burn clear!
Branch and bough in shadow reels
And Fen'harel stalks at my rear!
Oh! Falon'Din guide my feet,
Owl of the sunless skies
Fly on wings of starlight fleet
And reveal the path to my eyes!
Oh! Andruil goddess fierce,
Bloody-handed huntress,
Loose thy arrows and wolves pierce.
For in the dark I long to rest.
Oh! Elgar'nan, All-Father,
You, who rides the sun at dawn,
Avenge me if I fall before thy altar.
For I run like the young fawn.
Oh! Mythal, Great Protector!
We still remember we who dwell
In this lost land as a spectre
Pursued through trees by beasts fell
Your shining light and fury pure,
Justice, swift as dragon's flight!
You, who drive from us despair
And set aright our plight!
Oh! Creators, hear our prayer,
Though Beyond you are, we sing again
Our sorrowful cries fill the air
I'll walk forever on this world herein!
At length Ellas came to a small bridge that crossed a river. It was not wide but it flowed swiftly and ran deep into a cleft in the rocks. Unfortunately now the bridge lay broken asunder, most of it washed away by the brook. Ellas guessed that this was caused by the storm that had passed the area a month ago. At any rate he had to decide what to do. He put his pack on the ground and laid down against a tree by the side of the road.
[ ] Attempt to climb and jump over the remains of the ruined bridge. This would be the most direct route but also the most dangerous.
[ ] Go north cross-country to a ford. This would add another two days to the journey at least and the country was less safe, being prone to wandering wolf packs.
[ ] Go south to the highway bridge. This would be the safest option but would add another week at least to the journey and risk running out of supplies before reaching the Bridge Inn.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
No option to fix the bridge with magic? Or at least make a makeshift plant to cross?