Solis|Luna

Golden Brown (Prologue)

Light rain was steadily reverberating off of the cobblestone pathways paved throughout Drumchapel. Oletha sat atop the wall of the Eastweg Bridge, counting arrows, admiring a small red pebble she'd found the day before. The past week had been very somber, which is wonderful when you're an adventurer, but unfortunately lack-luster when you're warrior-born. Oletha was mix of the two- for even though she fought on Sul'ren ground, she cherished the days fought far past the hills of the city, and moons over the province of Etra.

She inhaled slowly, eyes closed, savoring the first breath of the season. The aur' air was crisp, above her the sky was painted with brilliant hues of gold and coral. The weather bestowed upon the continent of Sul'ren was never unsatisfactory. Ignis is long and steamy, Heim is brief but still very chilly, Floresco is brightly hued and full of life. Aurea- the season of golden hues and harvest- is truly her paramour. Its soft breezes and savory orchard fruit are friends of the adventurer.

The heavens continued to send forth rain. Oletha left the bridge and began to head eastward toward the hills. Behind her the village gradually disappeared; subtle sounds of citizens retreating into their homes was no more as she left the pavement and resorted to the dirt trails instead. Soon after walking, the Vale Wood emerged in her line of sight and the foot paths began to fade. Fresh earth was all that lie beneath her now. In the vale, a traveler is nothing more than a mere speck compared to the tall trees and towering Tenders. Oletha in all her years as an adventurer had been eternally mystified by the race of forest tenders. They are considered sacred beings- found in dense wooded expanses and are known to smite the traveler who does harm to beings within their range. Few escaped. Few escaped and were able to speak of their experiences. Alas, forest tenders were not the only individuals in her company- Oletha walked softly; she was very observant. Her silver eyes captured the entirety of the forest with every footstep. Here, the vale hadn't tasted the aur', and was still lush with dark green and blue tones, albeit hints of scarlet and gold were hiding far up in the treetops. Faint light emitted from the homes of forest nymphs on the floor hidden within the tops of mushrooms and under fallen branches. A Spriggen floated eerily above mounds of earth, protecting fallen woodland creatures. The ground beneath her sang with every footstep, whilst the rain drummed along, making soft music as she continued onward.

By the time Oletha had finally entered her destination the rain had subsided and the early rays of the next morning's sun were peeking through feathery clouds. The dirt path below her was slowly transforming into a wide brick path that rides along the valleys, escorting the traveler to one of the cabins scattered in the area. She had long feet that were never tired. She had only recently found residence to the Eastern Hills, but her decision to live there was made very early in her youth. The dwarves were natives to Sul'ren, and in days of old were known to dwell deep within the mountains and foothills. Dwarven dwellings after many years became submerged by mudslides and rockfalls, consequently resulting in their abandonment. The Dwarven people relocated to the mountainous region north of Sul'ren, Fjell, and with the years have scattered about the world. When Sul'ren was won in recent ages, about fifty years before her beginning, it became a centre for her people- the elves.

The elves are creatures of decadence- embracing beauty and wealth. The wealth accumulated by their society was target for many attacks, and resulted in the need for a great army. The elves -known not for having great strength, broad shoulders, and thick skin like that of the dwarf and the Nord - lost many a body in return. The attributes of the elf proved to be a great struggle in their many attempts to win back lost lands, albeit their people quickly adapted- Armies were trained not in melee, but in ranged combat and magic. Warriors wore armor of leather and cloth instead of heavy plate.

Many Elven civilizations were barricaded fortresses surrounded by ornate stone walls reinforced with magic. Elven methods of battle proved worthy- they quickly became the most populous race in eastern Etra. Today, their home deep within the valley aids them in avoiding attacks directly in their territory. They live in solace after alleviating the paranoia of constant attack.

Silence.

No fowl song, no whisper of the wind. Morn in the hill was serene, as the elves were quiescent in their homes not yet starting their day. Oletha breathed deep and slow, once again embracing the heaven's gift of the seasons. She tread onward, her worn boots making small pitter-pattter on the cobbles. The Aur was very present in the hills; though the morning overhead was dreary grey, golden brown painted the hickories lining the path eastweg. A faint breeze brushed over the adventurer as she tread into the small town in the hill, creating an earthly song amongst the trees.

Ah, the Aurea, golden brown. Temptress by the gods.