tsp + trr vs. nir

[Aeropagitica]

To Lords Nymphsong and Carlos;
I must ask for peace. I would not typically do so, having not mounted a combined counter attack yet, but their is an unfortunate medley of variables in place that makes our place unenviable. Yes, we were all on when the attack begun. However, most of us had already used many turns elsewhere and could truly do little. This also puts our 'anticipated' counterstrike mere hours before your follow up wave, but there are personal IRL issues that would force our follow up to be after yours. This makes the entire point of counterattack worthless. Therefor, I must congratulate you on an excellent strike, but seek your mercy. Can we have a peace?

[Nymphsong]

Aero,

I have bannered Ceasefire, I will have to wait for Carlos to agree and then we should be able to move from War to formal Peace.

Nymphsong

[Carlos Danger]

Peace it is. Sorry for the delay, I just got home from a day of activities with the family and just got a chance to check. I am bannering peace now. I hope all on the RL front is okay.

[Nymphsong]

(OOC: Peace Bannered.)

The chilly breeze hugged the countryside and bitter cold crept through the valley. If green were still upon the air, then the leaves would have shuttered with great calamity and whisked themselves to the ground to be closer to the heart of the land where warmth might still be found. Still however, the trees made no shutter, no leaves fell to the ground, the sky had turned against the day, and angry clouds let lose their first flurry of snow, as if to pity the countryside and blanket it from the wind. These truly were the winter months of Tonan, and there was no respite for those in nature’s wild. The cold did not only erode the natural fabric of land in time, as was the order of things, but those of the living as well.

A bluster of cold brushed its way past the cape of the jaunt and nimble humanoid standing at a crossroads within the kinship of his grove. The frosty breath slapped the cold, but did no more to comfort the wood from the surrounding winter. Ever so slowly, a warm and delighted smile appeared upon the humanoid’s face. In his grove, there was only serenity, nature, nothing man made, and the need for such unnatural ties a fading absurdity of the reality in which he lived. Nymphsong had known for too long that the enemies of the heathen deities had grown vast, their armies prepared for the inevitable takeover of all of Tonan. To maintain the balance, action had to be taken, and so calling upon his favor, Barnabas helped to smite the collaborations of man, Angelique, and their plans. Nymphsong in conjunction with allies from another guild had burnt a vast mark of landscape that those of Angelique had swallowed up, and soon they had retreated to their previously identified defensive positions, the lords realizing that without their towers, and fortresses, the cold alone would have finished them. Land was not Nymphsong’s goal, although his allies seemed keen to take advantage of weaknesses within the territories of the Angelique, overrunning several of the guarded realms left exposed by retreating allies.

Nymphsong shuttered to think of the scores of peasantry class that had sacrificed all, for the greed of humanoids and their guild masters. Perhaps, now was the time, they should take the high road and seek a more diplomatic solution to the ages of hate. Nymphsong sighed; he knew they would not be so easily won over, the idea of war was normal, the idea of peace, intolerable, and the idea that so many men and women would need to find new work, unbelievable.
Nymphsong raised his arms; other grove elders began to encircle him as they chanted to Barnabas, seeking his protection. As if the snow and clouds could move they began to fall from the heavens. The snow with them, and in the wind, a blizzard soon covered the landscape. Much like the fog and dew of a morning summer, now a blizzard and cloudy fog consumed the forest and protected that which held the highest value, the virgin wood. Beyond that, the fog would move and cover friends and allies, the nobles, the knights, and the peasant class, and perhaps for just a day, there would be quiet upon the realms.

His body renewed by the enchantment, and warmed from the incantation began to relax. As he relaxed he felt a tremor, one previously unknown, and unsought. It was as if there were a foreign abstract within the wood, something too unnatural, but not that of a normal humanoid, this was different. It was nigh impossible to see with one’s own eyes, so Nymphsong closed them, and allowed his true fey bloodline to take control. He walked slowly to the edge of the grove. With eyes closed he saw what truly perplexed his mind, a door of some kind, but this was no ordinary door, for doors do not appear in the wood, and doors that do appear, should be seen and tangible to all living things. This was remarkably, different. What could have made the door, so close to his grove, Nymphsong pondered the possibilities. Curious by nature, Nymphsong moved to touch the door, but not knowing what was to be found on the other side, remembered etiquette, and knocked.

Whom could wish to see Nymphsong.

Nymphsong

[Seska Dragonslayer]

It would have been an erroneous assumption that the diminutive Sidhe wished to see anyone at all, but most especially not a practioner of the a false magic. Nevertheless, she had - for whatever reason and it could not have been a conscious one at that - reached out into the world below her. She'd little doubt that any that played with the fell power of sorcery could but feel her presence as it roved the world, especially in those places where it linger, a malevolent spirit often warded away by the sign against evil for those who could sense her.

But the Sorceress was not evil, nor good. Neutrality was a practice ground in to the bone, ground in over decades, centuries...millenia. Of a certainty she erred to one side or the other on occasion, as suited the whim of the moment or, more often the case, century. But she held hard to but one path: the fleeting, visceral memory of Olander. Never seen, never felt, but spoken of in hushed whispers, from a time before there were three. When there was only one, and before Heaven itself had fallen into dischord, and the world was rent by war. Before the world moved on, d'ye ken, time slipping forward like a maiden slipping into a marshy patch, inch by inch being marred and stained black. A very apt image, that - the Sidhe could see it well, the dark gray-green slime marring that nameless girls' purwhite dress as her struggles became increasingly frantic, until on this day all that remained above the muck was a neck and a frantically reaching hand gleaming gray-green. So was the world, slipping into oblivion.

A strange knock resounded through the wood before her, and her lips curved in the barest of smiles. She could feel the man that now stood on the other side of the door (a door, d'ya ken, that had not been there long and would be gone as soon as any such business as she had was concluded). It was difficult to judge, for the distance was great, but the weight of time seemed to press upon this one greatly. Not as greatly as it did on her, she who could wander parts of the world and pick up rubbish that others called such and remember a time when it had a use.

She touched the knob of the door - from his side, it would be immobile, resisting any attempt to turn it at all. It was not locked, for it was magical in every aspect, but not attuned to him. It would only open at her touch, or those she bid pass through them.

She found herself wondering what it was she was even doing. She held herself aloof from the world of men and their struggles. Blanace, religion, it all came to the same thing - false notions, ones that had been played out time and again, time without end. The fall from glory for her own people was but another hard lesson learned along the road, as was the failing of Maxim, and of Valid, and of Mo'pri that came before.

Possessed of curiosity - what would she find the other side of the Unfound Door? And what, exactly, was it she was seeking in the first place?

She opened the door, and a hundred or a thousand miles away, a knob turned and a door opened inch by inch, to reveal the circular room high in a mountains top.

[Knight Taran]

Disappointed that the war didn't go longer but RL issues definitely have to take the priority. Look forward to our next battle NIR

[Jokingjoe]

Very potent first strike, well planned out, Nymph/Carlos.