Elven Song and Tales

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Syringia: True Tales from the Shalonesti Forest - One

Sat Mar 31 10:40:13 2012

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Around the bindstone is often found

The most deadly battleground.

Sneaking foes know exactly where

You will return from your prayer.

Lothwen Sha'quelas Moonbrook returned one day to find

The Yinn battlemage, Xaerik, hidden at her bind.

His fangs gleamed as he tried to bite.

She turned and dropkicked with all her might.

Although her training was not complete,

Xaerik, she handily managed to defeat.

Then, much to her surprise, she found

His vampire teeth laying on the ground.

She made them into earrings fair.

Which each day she does proudly wear.

So a sneaking foe got his just reward

Of dental bills he could barely afford.

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Syringia: True Tales from the Shalonesti Forest - Two

Mon Apr 2 10:56:48 2012

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The Tale of Tretelik and the Dragon Egg

Told by Syringia Sha'relas Applewood

It was a dark and stormy night.

The dwarves had begun a fight.

Grundo, from Wargar, to Tretelik did fall,

Then, suddenly, there came a call, --

From Hraz of Justice. He did find

A dragon hovering above his bind.

Tretelik told Hraz to withdraw,

He would brave the dragon's maw.

His plan to ensure his safety to keep,

Was simply to put the dragon to sleep.

Cursed, blinded, and charmed, the dragon knew

Little of the direction in which he flew.

A portal was made to the spirit world.

Hraz mounted the dragon and through it they hurled.

Down to the depths where few can flee,

They took the dragon, who still could not see.

Zwefin joined in the noble quest,

To defeat the dragon, a giant pest.

And then in his corpse, lo and behold,

An egg was found worth a lot of gold.

Now in Galeru's lair and Bloodlust's halls,

The thought of the lost egg torments them all.

But will the dragon egg hatch some day?

That, even our elders cannot say.

The Tale of Three Elves

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Syringia: Tales from the Shalonesti Forest - 3

Mon Apr 16 11:16:32 2012

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Greetings elves and those who love tales of all sorts,

I bring you another tale from the Forest today. This was told to me by Naha

Sha'falas and I have set it to verse. The truth of this tale is not known,

but I found it rather fun.

Tales of this sort are found all over and the house of Sha'relas is

committed to finding and preserving them. If you know of a tale worth

retelling, please write or tell it to me.

With gratitude,

Syringia Sha'relas Applewood

Two sailors were a drinking

When they came up with a plan.

They'd make the finest whiskey

To sell throughout the land.

They gathered the materials.

A still they exactingly made.

And the resulting whiskey

Was of the finest grade.

They advertised their product.

Order after order came pouring in.

Soon they would be wealthy,

They said to each other with a grin.

One day when they'd been brewing

Filling whiskey barrels keg by keg,

Saio came along to visit

With a joke to pull their leg.

He set them both on fire

By a fireball skillfully tossed.

They thought the joke was funny

'Til it appeared the whiskey might be lost.

For as you know, straight whiskey

Is mostly flammable.

It caught their still on fire

Then spread to houses and a nearby stable.

Drondon said they needed water fast

To put the fires out.

He pointed to the nearby resevoir

To quickly bring that about.

Drondon was a half-elf

With legs of human size

So Talik with his wilder legs

Ran to implement the plan, so wise.

Talik noticed a boarded up door

Near the bottom of the dam.

He hammered until it opened up

And then in water he swam.

The resulting wave of water

Put out the fires in town.

But it killed much of the livestock

And knocked many houses down.

But it saved the barrels of whiskey

That they had so neatly stacked.

And when they had sold them all

It was enough to pay everyone back.

For all of the damage done

From water, fire, and smoke

Cost them all their proceeds

Leaving them completely broke.

Life can sometimes throw at you

Twists and turns galore.

One needs a sense of humor

To jump back in for more.

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The True Tale of the Beginning of the War Between the Elves and the Dwarves

Syringia: Tales from the Shalonesti Forest - Four

Tue Apr 17 13:54:46 2012

Retold by Syringia Sha'relas Applewood

Based on information from Matriarch Pythia Shalonost

Since the dawn of history,

The division did start.

Elves' and dwarves' interests

Did grow far, far apart.

The Elves delighted

In growing things.

The dwarves desired

What excavating brings.

And then one day

The dwarves did find

Great riches deep

Within their mine.

What they were

Is not told,

Precious stones

Or mounds of gold.

But the gods

Wished them too.

Give them up,

Dwarves refused to do.

And so the gods

Cursed the land.

Hailstorms and plagues

None could withstand.

Until it looked

Like famine's gate

Soon would be

All people's fate.

The historical writings

Do not show

Dwarves or Elves,

Who cast the first blow.

But that the war started

And rages on to date

Is something we live with,

Though it, we didn't create.

And so to those

Who read this tale.

Two cautions I give

To you as well.

Do not let the love

Of riches or power,

The vain things that life

May on you shower.

Obscure your vision of

The important things -

Family, kin and honor

Will happiness bring.

And greed will eventually

Bring you down.

Especially greed for things

Found under the ground.

How the Wilder Elves Came to Be

From a story by Lord Braha'minanom'amor Sha'enras D'l'athil, Songkeeper of the Kyrol

Retold by Syringia Sha'relas Applewood

The yinnae invasion force

Much like a tidal wave

Swept through and conquered Serpantol

No quarter expected, no quarter gave.

They covered the land as far as one could see,

So many yinnae did abound,

That when they were on the move,

Like locusts, one could hardly see the ground.

The Speaker of the Shalonosts

Put out an urgent call

Leave your villages immediately,

You'll be safe behind Shalonesti's wall.

An elven girl named Minion

Refused to run and hide

She would not leave her forest

To be burned, slashed or occupied.

She organized many families,

Perhaps a hundred strong,

They would fight without the city walls.

They would somehow get along.

The Speaker tried to force

Compliance with his word.

Come in now, or in council,

Your voice will no longer be heard.

She did not listen or perhaps did not care,

The yinnae threat was far too great.

Her goal was to save the forest that she loved

Now, before it was too late.

The elves formed small battle groups

Better to attack quickly, then retreat.

They practiced engaging from above,

And always landing on their feet.

Guerrilla warfare never is

A very pretty sight.

Soon the yinnaes feared the trees,

Especially at night.

Minion's force was never found

In the same place twice.

The yinnaes could not anticiapte

At each battle they paid a heavy price.

Eventually, though greatly outnumbered,

They drove the yinnaes from their forest home.

But the gates of Shalonesti remained shut

Leaving them quite on their own.

Within this group of wild elves,

A wilder change had been wrought.

Perhaps it was their training,

Or the self-sufficiency Minion taught.

Their ability in magic diminished

By an amount not too great,

But their strength and agility increased a lot,

In order to compensate.

Minion became the Mother

To all the wilder elves in her band.

Over time they spread out,

And now live throughout the land.

To Minion, the forest gave her life.

She could not let it die.

In her memory we continue to nurture it,

To plant, train, and beautify.

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Syringia: True Tales from the Shalonesti Forest - Six

Mon Apr 23 14:32:55 2012

To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_king All

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The Tale of the Kitten 'Shadow' and the Warlock

Retold by Syringia Sha'relas Applewood

From information given by Speaker Thanatael Shalonost

A kitten came to the Vallens one day,

Who made it clear she wished to stay.

She was small and black as night,

But on her collar, jewels sparkled bright.

The elves she met fed her fish,

Gave her a home and all she could wish.

But yet, communication was poor.

Restless she seemed, so elves brought her more

Things to play with, things to eat,

They cuddled with her and brought her treats.

All their efforts appeared in vain.

Finally, she seemed to be in pain.

The elves attempted to find the source.

To fix what ailed her, they did endorce

Many a clever and ingenious solution,

But day after day there was no resolution

That came to them, still wondering what to do.

The kitten's restlessness increased too.

Then one day, from Sabrinaela, there came a call.

Rise up! To arms! Come one and all!

A warlock had appeared to claim his cat.

He wished her back, and that would be that.

The elves could see she did not wish to go,

So, of course, they told the warlock, NO!

'She is mine, I shall have her,' the warlock said.

And immediately cast lightning over everyone's head.

The kitten, named Shadow by the evil warlock,

Looked even more like she wished she could talk.

The elves charmed the kitten to move her away,

From each place the warlock was that day.

Yet each time they whisked her away, it seemed

The warlock would find them by some devious scheme.

The kitten grew irate with the collar she bore.

Upon examination, it appeared to give more and more

Power to the warlock through the orb he did hold.

When Thanatael tried to remove it, it did knock him out cold.

The shocks from the collar sent Thanatael into a trance.

The resulting vision he received did his understanding enhance.

In a plane of life he had never before seen,

An elven maid fighting this warlock appeared in his dream.

It was then the meaning of the vision was clear.

The maid was the kitten, made to serve out of fear.

The magical power the Elvish maid held

Was used by the warlock to strengthen his spells.

More and more elves had come to the fight.

The warlock easily fought all, then came Gareth's knights.

The battle continued, fruitless and with peril fraught.

Then they decided the orb held the answer they sought

To disempower the warlock, who's power did flow

Through the orb he held and the collar that did glow.

During the battle, the orb they did crack,

Causing the warlock to hastily retreat back

To where he had come from, leaving behind

The kitten and collar and answers to find.

The jewels in the collar dimmed very low

The crack in the orb seemed to have stopped the flow.

The kitten pawed at the collar in a mute plea.

So Thanatael removed it and a transformation did see.

Before their eyes appeared the Elven lass,

Her beautiful smile held them in awe, at last.

But only for a few moments, then suddenly she made

A small sound, collapsed, and began to fade.

They attempted to heal her, to no avail.

Even replaced the collar on her as well.

She died without another sound.

But her peaceful expression did those there astound.

She taught us much as a kitten slave.

To never give up, this lesson she gave.

And to her, freedom was worth the price she paid.

We should honor and revere this heroic Elvish maid.

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Syringia: True Tales from the Shalonesti Forest - Seven

Wed Apr 25 22:08:03 2012

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Logs for Sale

The Vallenwoods

Grow logs so well,

There are always plenty

For Elves to sell.

Zandreya, herself,

Walks our land

Encouraging new seedlings

Wherever she can.

The logs are cut,

Graded, and stacked,

Then taken to market

On elephants' backs.

The auctioneer's

Voice is heard

Quietly persuading

To buy the wood.

He has logs,

Just logs for sale.

He then opens it up

For bidding as well.

The voices he hears

Are -NOT- demanding logs,

But cogs, frogs, hedgehogs,

And lost puppy dogs.

Then the topic changes slightly

Into a discussion of jogging

To a bog in the fog

With grogg to go frogging.

From there it continues

Wondering if pollywogs can be found

Doing a monologue

Under the ground.

The auctioneer becomes

Quite bemused.

How could logs with

All these other things be confused?

In the end,

All he has to say

Is 'Buy my logs,

Or please ... go away.'

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The Last Dance of Josiuh Sha'qelas

Mon Apr 30 13:13:30 2012

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It was a dark and starless night.

The three moons withheld their light.

While on the river, dressed in black

A boatload of assassins left no tracks.

Prince Aelsian Shalonost's death, their goal,

As quietly they eluded each patrol.

But Josiuh, a bladesinger, could not rest.

His thoughts with dark dreams were possessed.

Armed and armored he finally arose,

To make one more circuit of the city before repose.

As he came down to the riverside,

He saw dwarves and dark-elves trying to hide.

He immediately sounded the alarm,

For he knew their intent was to cause harm.

The guards instantly began the attack,

As well as the bladesinger, to hold them back.

The assassins split up, the better to pursue

Access to the palace, the prince to subdue.

Josiuh wove the moves of the bladesinger's dance

Into the battle, his effectiveness to enhance.

He began to bait his deadly foes

And they turned on him the majority of their blows.

Bleeding profusely from many wounds to his skin,

His opponents gathered, to prevent help reaching him.

He then skillfully retreated step by step

To the Alcove, where the Sword of Songs is kept.

He finished off a few more opponents during his retreat.

His enemies tried harder for his defeat.

Upon reaching inside that sacred site,

His sword broke as he blocked several hits with his might.

Before the statue of Zandreya, it seemed

All would be lost as he had dreamed.

But to the Kyorl he did belong

So he gave himself fully to the 'song'.

The song which is a major part

Of what is in a bladesinger's heart.

To which, when born, they contribute to.

And join when they die, its energy to renew.

And with that increased commitment embraced,

His hand upon the Sword of Songs he placed.

The sword that at Zandreya'a statue's feet

Quietly hums, providing energy to the bladesinger elite.

Encased in stone, it lies there in wait

For one in need, its skills to take.

With a mighty heave, Josiuh pulled

While with his shield he deflected blow after blow.

But nothing happened, the sword remained

Encased in stone, made of the arcane.

To Zandreya, Josiuh sent a silent prayer,

And pulled again on the sword so rare.

And in his hand the sword came out

Then it was a dance of death he brought about.

Josiuh was known as the tempest of the Kyorl

In honor of a grand storm that unfurls.

And unfurl it did as each assassin he sought

Throughout the city died as they were caught.

Until finally, he came to the palace gate

Inside the sleeping prince, unaware of the assassin's hate.

Only two were left, but his strength was fading fast.

Would the song keep him going to kill the last?

As he came upon them, they had just slain the palace guards.

He said to himself, 'Two to one shouldn't be too hard.'

And so they engaged, each circling around

To see if any weaknesses could be found.

The dwarf chopped in quickly aiming for Josiuh's heart

Josiuh took the hit on the side and split the dwarf's head apart.

The dark-elf took this as an opportunity

To slay Josiuh as he pulled his weapon free.

The dark-elf stabbed Josiuh to the heart

With moments of life left, Josiuh did his part.

He cleaved the dark-elf's head off with some strength he found,

Then quietly sank dead to the ground.

The Sword of Songs by him lay,

But not for long, those who found him say.

It is thought that the Mother came and took the sword

Replacing it carefully in its stony hoard.

The emotions ran very high that day

That Josiuh was honored and laid away.

But we know his spirit lives with Zandreya still,

And very faithfully does Her Will.

His example is one which we should all endorse,

Of doing our duty and staying the course.

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Syringia: True Tales from the Shalonesti Forest - Eight

Thu May 17 11:35:39 2012

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The Insane Asylum

In the dark of the morning,

Just before first break of day,

With the dew still on the ground

Janath quickly made his way.

He slowed his pace somewhat

As the hill was now in sight

At the top a large and spacious building

Filled with elves in a mixture of deranged plights.

The first time he had come here

He tried to persuade them to go

To return home to the Vallens.

His lead they would not follow.

He listened carefully as the sound

Of fighting came to his ears

The chained elves were being slaughtered,

Just as he had feared.

Sneaking up the hill

He came to a bank of doors,

Slipping from one to another,

He moved to the end of the floor.

A sulfury sort of smell,

He could sense as he moved closer still.

Dwarves, he was fairly certain,

Were making elven kill after kill.

Just like a dwarf,

To kill those who can't defend.

Janath crept ever closer,

This insanity to end.

He heard the rattling of chains

In the very next room.

Despite the dwarves more advanced training,

Janath leapt in to prevent the chained elves' doom.

Surprise was on Janath's side

And the fact that he kept the door shut.

Hgrem's life was soon ended

As Janath's axes split him from head to gut.

Janath looked remorsefully

At the corpses scattered on the ground.

Some better solution for this problem

Needed to be quickly found.

Once again he pleaded

To the elves chained to ceiling and wall,

Come, return home to the Vallens.

I will protect you from one and all.

But the elves did not appear to hear,

Looking off into space.

No recognition of the meaning in his words

Was in each and every face.

Janath stopped and considered

More was going on here than met the eye.

He went back into stealth mode,

To find out the truth or perhaps to die.

He quietly climbed the stairs

And eavesdropped at the director's door.

The conversation that he overheard

Made him continue to explore.

He went from room to room

Until he saw it all.

His cousins were having their essences stolen

While being kept in a state of thrall.

These essences depleted from the insane elves

Were being concentrated and sold

As potions by the dark elves.

Who were gaining lots of gold.

Janath returned to his home

Resolved to end this wicked place.

He now gathers elves to help him.

Come join, there still is space.