❧ [OOC] Court Lore Book || Historical Events

[Shia bean]

The Court seeks asylum within the mountains of Kells.

After weeks of thwarting their enemies every advances, the exhausted refugees had come to a crossroads. Continuing on at the pace they traveled would guarantee death... but to hole up and wait out the storm may very well ensure the same. In the end, the Elves were forced into respite. A rocky scar within the earth opened up before them, with it's large slabs of stone jutting out protectively overhead. It offered shelter from the elements, and cover from prying eyes.

The first night would pass turbulently. It would feel like forever before a sign of hope crested the horizon.

But forever was relative. On their second night, the sole surviving Terran would whisper the words 'sea of sighing purple' just as the pack readied for slumber. The Terran, an honest and precise female whose visions had saved them countless times already, woke the following day with a detailed understanding of the path she was meant to follow. The path that would lead them to their new home. And she took this information straight to the elders.

When word spread, as it did with a ferocity amongst the Elves, the collective whispers were louder than usual. The tension had left many fearing for their lives, and the collective allowed that fear to steer them into skepticism. A few dared to challenge the vision that had been proposed, as well as the discussion on following through with it... How could they make the journey safely? They felt incredibly unsafe in the inexperienced hands of their warriors. They were fatigued and starved, which would make them slow. Easily picked off. The enemy could be anywhere at this point! And in the end, if the pack were to move forward, the collective would need to be reassured of their safety.

So another night would pass with the Elves remaining tucked away in the rocks. Only, this night, the elders debated over a great many things and shortly thereafter agreed to open their ranks to outsiders. In order to rebuild what had been stripped of them, they needed the numbers. They needed help. The Murkwood Court needed allies.

Once again when the word spread there was resistance. Which was expected. But when the reasoning's were laid out, and the terms set, the collective were in agreement. While a bold and dangerous move, not all strangers were Trolls.

Which meant that some of them could be fodder instead.

The pack traveled through the forests and over hills, exposed to clearings covered in unfamiliar scents. They hid when necessary, ran when required, but never once spotted a Troll. It was twilight when at last they arrived at the meadow. A sea of deep purple bells all drooping in their silent slumber, snoozing on the job as the The Court members made a safe passage through. With their Terran at the helm, they were guided to a hidden entryway cutting through the mountain.

On the other side, they were met with a forest in a seemingly perpetual state of decay. Then, they found themselves stepping upon spongy green earth, vibrant and full of life. A giant tree rested in the center, it's roots large enough to crawl over and under. The mountains were shields against outsiders, and protected the lush valley from harm, but the valley itself was full of secrets. Entrances and exits littered the land, making travel from one location to another quick; so long as you knew where to step. To the far west, tucked within the valley still, was a low mountain that hid the future site of all Terran. And further still, a passageway covered in debris spilled out onto the coastal shoreline. A perfect escape route, should there ever be a need for escape.


But until then, this was their new home.

 

[Shia bean]

We begin our story at the peak of their tenth year, a period known as the ‘Fallen Era’.


It began with a young king caught in the grips of a scandal; crowned and then dethroned nearly all at once at the behest of his elder counsel. His queen, who had been heavily involved, excused herself in an attempt to buffer the societal blows... but unfortunately the damage had already been done. The pair were marked by their actions. A 'lovers quarrel' to end their reign and, in great lengths, their reputations. A hardly unexpected outcome and yet... worrisome nonetheless.

You see, since the dawning of their creation the Elven society had been overseen by a patriarchy. It was simply the way of things, tradition, and it had worked for years. But with the previous ruler deceased, his only son turned jester, and a long familial line known for producing female heirs; there was no one left within the royal court to lead.


Well. No male left, at any rate.


At around the same time their borders were encroached upon by outsiders. The strangers were called 'Trolls', a term used slyly and derogatory in fashion, and were too curious and too persistent for their own good. Every attempt to remain neutral or to ignore the problem altogether failed the Elves. What they needed was time to sort out their political affairs, but life had other plans. The Terran amongst them whispered of bad omens and the shifting of balances on the Earthen winds... and in the end they were right. The Trolls would make contact. They would be heard.

But the Elves were not accustom to strangers traversing their land, let alone strong-arming their way past the thresholds. With no ruler to speak for them, the counsel were forced to show face. Their encounters were always tense. The counsel and pack at large were made uneasy in the presence of these crude, barbaric strangers. When the Trolls hinted at hostility and began to make demands, the nerves grew more intense. The Trolls were so few in comparison to the Elves and yet... mighty, even without a militia at their backs. Before they even knew what was transpiring, The Murkwood Court found themselves aligning with the strangers. It was all they could do to keep their wits, and lives, about them.

There was an offer made and it was simple: in exchange for Troll protection, of which the Elves had never needed prior to the Trolls arrival, The Court would allow the Trolls free rein of their territory. The forests they called home... but it didn't matter that the strangers threatened the sanctity of their entire world. The Elves, although equipped with an army and the intimate knowledge of the land itself, were far too soft to challenge the might of these battle-hardened wolves. They had lost the first fight.


And it led to a period of time where the Trolls and Elves would occupy the same space without bloodshed.


One side created fear, fed off of it while the other submitted to it. The Troll presence increased within the territories main living quarter, a far cry from the original 'way-station on the border' arrangement. They took dens, forcing Elves to bed with them or out beneath the starlight. They stole kills and raided the trinkets being stored and coveted. Then, when the land began to bore them, they took to hounding the population itself. Troll males and females sought after the company of Elven males and females, in spite of sacred unions. The counsel of Elders were replaced by a single Troll Advisor, who began the quick rearrangement of pack dynamics. Moving The Murkwood Court closer to slavery. The looser lipped Trolls would reveal their hidden purposes, speaking of a 'home' territory and a much larger pack some ways off; waiting for their return. Of 'haunting's' and 'pillages' made in favor of a Tribe Leader. Of their brandings, large scars cut into the flesh of every Troll to denote their specific role and purpose in their ranks...

It was a lot. More than the Elves expected. More than what some of them could handle. Tension was on the rise, and although The Court was meek by nature... there was a hint of hostility, reminiscent of anarchy, hanging in the air.

The final straw was snapped when the youngest princess of Elven kind went missing.

The Trolls had settled into their homeland way past the point of comfort. They made it quite clear that whatever intentions they had once had of leaving were dashed and, instead, they would simply reform what had already been established here. The Tribal Leader's son was a part of the band and demanded he be wed to the eldest princess, forever intertwining the bloodlines and more importantly solidifying his position as new King to The Court. But the resistance he was faced with was unexpected, and when the young princess was lost... the Elves suspected foul play.

This bolstered their resolve. The Court Elders took to meeting in private, discussing ways of overthrowing the Trolls or, more likely, escaping them. And when the eldest princess caught wind of the meetings, she became instrumental in the 'Final Stand'.

And what transpired next... is for the Chroniclers to recount, for it weaves the story of heroes and villains into one oddly united thread. Rest assured, the tale is worth the wait. Until then, sleep knowing you are safe...


At least for the time being.

 

[Shia bean]

...

 

[Shia bean]

Here is what we remember...

Zaikt

Aspen was a protector. He knew full well that his line of duty would, inevitably, lead to him being forced to take a life--there was no way around it, and certainly not after the Trolls began to show their faces. As they encroached further and further into his home, Aspen was forced to sit idly by and watch, unable to properly intervene lest broader conflict break out; he almost got into a few truly heinous fights by trying to put a stop to what he saw, but it was never enough to change the course of it all.
It did, however, earn him a few enemies. One of which saw fit to hunt him down when the fighting began, determined to take his pound of flesh in return for the hassle this pathetic Elf had caused him.

By the earth, by the trees, he had never wanted this. He'd tried to move quickly, protecting other Elves and guiding them to relative safety--he'd made several runs back into their home, picking up stragglers and survivors whenever possible, but he couldn't keep going forever. When he was almost too tired to move, still willingly running into the line of fire all the same, he was attacked.
He knew his assailant's face. He knew exactly what was happening. Those golden eyes still haunt his nightmares, burning like coals, the gleam catching the deep scars etched into flesh and fur.

By then, Aspen had little energy left in him. The only thing in his favor was that his attacker was much younger, much less experienced--almost foolhardy, even. The fight itself was drawn out--the Troll wanted to play with his food first, getting his fill of blood before he finished this old upstart off for good.
Aspen doesn't want to remember the next few minutes. It felt like an eternity, stretching on and on forever--each flash of teeth, each heavy thud of flesh and bone colliding, all dragging on. Aspen thought this would be the end, truly. He would die here in service to his people, and that would be it.
But the Troll kept talking, taunting him. Telling him all of what they'd do to the rest of the Elves when they found them, from each whelp to the Elders themselves--it would be a bloodbath, a massacre, unstoppable and unending until the Elves were nothing more than a red staid on the earth to be forgotten and washed away.

He couldn't. He couldn't, couldn't, couldn't let that happen.
So he lunged, with no breath left in his lungs and everything to lose. He threw himself against the Troll again and again, knowing that every second he lasted was a second he bought for the groups he'd rescued.
Somehow, with his teeth buried in the Troll's throat and burning hot lifeblood streaming down his face, he survived. Aspen himself died that day, but his body survived, and forged himself anew from the pieces.
He staggered back to safety, wheezing, bloody froth flecking his muzzle. At first, it was hard to recognize him, but as realization dawned, there was only silence.

And it is said that...

RozeyBear

Fell Fire had fought valiantly beside his best friend, White Willow. The two had managed to fend off more Trolls than they thought possible but Willow had been badly injured. Fell's back right leg had been fractured and the two both knew he wouldn't be able to get them both to safety. During a lull in the waves of enemies tearing their home down around them, Willow had suggested the unthinkable.

"Leave me," he'd said, the end of his words twisting into a cough that splattered crimson across Fell's front legs.

Fell had refused vehemently, going so far as to try and lift his friend onto his back. He crumpled under the weight, the bones in his leg shifting with sickening cracks.

A single Troll moved toward the sounds of whispered arguing curiously, and in one great swing, knocked Fell away from Willow. He skid across the ground, adding minor scrapes and brusies to his growing number of wounds. That didn't hurt. What did was watching that Troll end his best friend's life with a triumphant battle cry. He knew he wouldn't stand a chance, not in his current state, and if he did try to fight, Willow's sacrifice would be in vain.

So he slipped away as quietly as he could, and he hated himself for it.

 

[Shia bean]

The Great Feast - 2019

 

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Humoring The Wild Life - 2020

 

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The Earth Wound - 2020

 

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The Blessed One

It was hardly worth documenting at the time, for it pockmarked their precious history and marred their sacred line. However, one Chronicler’s account of the elusive (and, frankly, worrisome) Terran-blooded male goes a little something like this:

Chronicler Account

When the boy was born to non-Terran parents, whose family pool mixed closely to the royal Courts and, therein, had seen at least one Terran within its ancestry; the family was elated. He was an oddity, which in some circles meant rumor fodder but for the parents it meant he was unique, and uniqueness often garnered attention; particularly from the King and Queen, who were their targets. Distant relatives as they might have been, the parents to this anomaly were far from treated like the royalty they were connected to, so, upon the birthing of this boy, they demanded some form of social elevation. He was the strange gift bestowed upon them by Nature, due to their familial proximity to the King and Queen at the time. Their misstep, however, was not only in their approach, for they ignored the Sisterhood’s warnings and went straight to the top, but also in their negligence of the newborn’s obviously deteriorating health.

His frailty was evident almost immediately, and the Sisterhood, who the parents attempted with all their might to thwart, were tasked by the King himself to oversee the boy. They were to take the child under their wing and raise him in their Earthen folds, to which the parents could care less about so long as they themselves were seen… But the Sisterhood knew, without question, that his life would be short-lived.

The Queen, one of the more hot-headed but maternal individuals to ever rule over the Elves, was quickly taken by the young pup. She would visit the youth frequently, considering him one of her own despite the Sisterhood’s hands in his upbringing. Some whispered that her love stemmed from a horrific place of greed, where she planned to wed the boy when he was of age, to be a name directly tied with his own – The Blessed One of The Murkwood Court. But others thought she might merely have loved him like a son, for the Queen had struggled for years to spawn any of her own.

Regardless, it was the Queen’s love, and subsequent scorn, that, in the end, would destroy any hope the parents had of achieving ascension. When the Sisterhood’s knowing came to fruition and the Terran-blooded son was found stiff and cold one crisp Spring morning, the Queen would grieve like no other could. The parents would be ridiculed, not only by the Court but worse yet – by The King himself, who would condemn them for their cursed, stained, or otherwise impure blood; openly suggesting they were not family.

The parents would eventually vanish. Subjected to social suicide or worse… and none, even today, know of the real truth, nor do they blame them for leaving. Some believe it was grief that drove the pair away in the end, but most of the debate lies in what the pair were truly grieving over...