Kethiel+Wintermist

//1 Leaffall 1376//

In the great reaches of the forest of Tethyr, the first stirrings of Autumn had only begun to give way to the thunderstorms and cold rains of fall. The beginnings of a //Mythal// were beginning to take shape around the village, only new by the reckoning of elves. This fall, as the terrors of Myth Rhynn stirred anew, Kethiel Wintermist's magic had been added to the sum power of the tiny Mythal. A werewolf had struck the community only today. The Feywild and Shadow leaked together onto the prime in the twisted ruins of that place. But within, the ties between elfkin were stronger than anywhere short of that land beyond the sea.

//Forest of Tethyr//

It was a deeper trance than most. The mind reached backward towards youth, Damara, and the snows, even as the comfort of a true elven life surrounded his flesh. A lonely horn blew somewhere in the great wood. From the lanai of his treetop apartment, its lonely song echoed a time of greatness in Faerûn, different than the age of industry and reason that Waterdeep seemed to rush toward even as its streets were choked with goblinkin. The song was likely that of a ghost, seeking solace from the torment of Myth Rhynn, begging the Elmanessee for a reprive. Or, if it was not, the song was that of a foul creature that would ruse itself as the same hapless ghost, only to spill more elf-blood.

//Elmanessee Village//

A scream shouted over the quiet hum of the distant horn. The silent hum of the forest took its place, and both the dirge and the damsel melted away into the night. The scream was familiar, though. With crystallizing certainty he knew whose scream it was. It was Calie's. He hastened the trance-mind away. Certainly, it was just a dream.