GSIV: The Dhe'Nar

The Dhe'Nar

Erm…. Hello. This will be the first segment of Dhe’Nar history that I will feebly try to reproduce for your reading and learning enjoyment… My sources of information are only the various Dhe’Nar related stories I have heard publicly and privately, the few conversations that I have had with Starsnuffer, and the posted Dhe’Nar history on Blackmoone’s site (the introduction and conclusion are taken directly from there, as well as a few other strong quotes). The history is much, much more vast than the bits I have gotten hold of, so know that in no way am I trying to claim the following is official history. Just some embellishing, if I may, applied by a fan….. ::grin:: Okay, enough of my disclaimer thingy. On to the real stuff.

Part I.

In the dawn of Dhe’Nar tradition stands the one who most exemplifies all that Dhe’Nar strive to be. Born of the elven race, before the great divide, he grew at the knees of the Arkati, drinking in their lore and wisdom with open ears and a keen mind. He served as an acolyte to the Arkati, their voice to the elves when all stood in chaos and only that fine intervention kept the world stable. Hours spent in weapons practice honed his skill until even the most feared warriors thought twice about a duel against him. Honored as a master of the whip blades, he was also honored for his closeness with the Arkati. Through him, they honored the elves with The Way, the path to power and discipline that all Dhe’Nar still hold as the highest goal a Dhe’Nar could strive for. He was called Noi’sho’rah.

During the latter part of the Age of the Drakes, when the elven nation began its dissolution into seven separate houses, Noi’sho’rah felt it necessary to find at least one among the elves who still put the Arkati first and honored their great perspicacity. One who saw their teachings as priority, views to be put before any selfish hunger for personal power. He found Tahlad, a young priest disgusted with the recent inner bickering and division of the elven people. He quickly took Tahlad on as his personal disciple, and together they stayed true to the original path of the elves.

On one particularly fateful night, Tahlad had become engaged in an altercation with his nephew Korthyr, who was rising very quickly in both power and popularity. He was a very influential authority, and there were many who chose to follow his ideas of forming an independent house to gain power over the other elves, a house whose members would be simply "better" than the rest of the elves.

"Korthyr, you are my nephew, and it stresses me to see you wandering from The Way and traveling down this dangerous and twisted path. Remember The Way of old and return to it… These recent struggles for power can only bring harm to the people. Our nation is dividing."

"But understand, my dear uncle," Korthyr shot back, an underlying sound of contempt in his words, "that as the times change so does the world. And as the world changes, so must its people. This is not a matter of power or strength over others. We are simply taking what is rightfully ours as we evolve. If we must fight to keep it, then we will. No one shall stand in the way of our rights."

"Nothing is yours by right save the air you breath and the -- " Tahlad’s words were cut short by a sudden lack of oxygen.

Korthyr stood opposite Tahlad, his lips curved into a smile and a cold, penetrating look within his violet eyes. He chuckled at Tahlad’s new expression of surprise and fear. "As I was saying, my dear uncle… No one shall stand in our way. No one. And this applies to you, as well."

Korthyr and Tahlad kept their eyes locked for another minute or so. When Korthyr felt his point had been made, he turned away with an arcane gesture, and Tahlad’s breath returned. After running a hand through his long, silk-like black hair, Korthyr spoke once more.

"The House of Faendryl will rise. And nobody can stop that or get in its way. Some things were simply meant to be, uncle. This is one of those things." With that, the ambitious young elf was gone.

Tahlad rushed to the temple, where he found Noi’sho’rah relaxing in the gardens. The sight was one of splendor, and Noi’sho’rah seemed to be the source of it all. His presence seemed to give the garden an added state of beauty, as if the moon had suddenly come out to make the nightflowers open their petals. Noi’sho’rah himself was indeed a splendid sight to see as well. He was like no other elf; upon his head was a magnificent mane of white hair, thin and soft, that tumbled neatly down his back. His eyes were a divine shade of gray—not the dull, unattractive gray created by an intermingling of black and white, but a brilliant, piercing hue whose description really cannot be put into words. But most unusual of all was his skin. It was not the brilliant bronze or rich brown of a sylvan elf, nor was it the pale, lily white that was common among his people. No, his skin was a rich ebony, a beautifully exotic shade that only added to his graceful movements and overall magnificence.

Spotting Tahlad and reading his troubled face, Noi’sho’rah settled himself in a nearby chair. "What is the trouble?" he asked, an eyebrow arched.

"Noi’sho’rah… you now grow older, but are no less honored and no less respected among our people. Perhaps you may be able to somehow persuade them to see their faults."

Tahlad proceeded to tell Noi’sho’rah of his encounter with Korthyr. As Tahlad spoke, Noi’sho’rah listened with quiet displeasure. When Tahlad had finished, Noi’sho’rah nodded gravely.

Throughout the night, Noi’sho’rah counseled Tahlad, revealing to him the secrets of the Arkati that would strengthen him as he endeavored to hold together what could not be held. As the day drew near, Noi’sho’rah seemed more and more distant, and he began to fade, taking on an almost ghostly visage. When the sun’s light finally shone, Noi’sho’rah was gone, and Tahlad felt very alone, very confused, and very afraid for the elven people. But Noi’sho’rah’s voice found its way into his mind, and that was a comfort. He informed Tahlad that he had departed to take the news himself to the Arkati to inform them of the failure of the elven nation and the impending disaster that lay before it.

Noi’sho’rah did not return for several months after his departure to the Arkati. He came to Tahlad in visions, but those appearances were brief as well as vague. For weeks Tahlad attempted to reunite the elves, who had now separated into seven different houses, but to no avail. In one final attempt to bring the houses together as one, he summoned the representatives of each to Noi’sho’rah’s temple. Many other elves attended as well, hoping to witness a political debate or perhaps see the fall of a weaker house after too much scorn from the other houses. The gathering consisted of a good amount of the elven population. When the temple’s innards were filled, the elves gathered outside, and soon the crowds stretched for hundreds of yards in every direction from the temple.

When Tahlad’s words became ignored and the seven house representatives began to quarrel with each other, Noi’sho’rah appeared. As his form materialized in the center of the main chamber, the elves backed away from him, forming an open circle in which he stood. When his form was fully collected, he seemed to give off a strange, powerful aura that further illuminated the room and filled the chamber with a sense of peace. All was silent for several minutes as every elf in the room gazed in amazement at the divine power before them. It was Korthyr who mustered up the audacity to pierce this repose. He stepped down from behind his podium and made his way through the crowd until he stood in the circle, face to face with Noi’sho’rah.

"What is your business here? You are a figure of the past. You wish to have no part in all of this, and that’s fine. We can do without your presence, as we have been for the past few seasons. When you left, you left for good. You should not be here now," were the words that came out of Korthyr. He said them with hesitation and with a twinge of fear, but there was also a certain degree of hostility present.

"I come to deliver a warning. If you continue to fight amongst yourselves for petty positions of power, you openly invite disaster. The doom that lies before you is great; the divide of the elven nation can only bring great turmoil. Nothing good shall ever come of this. Return to the true Way -- "

Noi’sho’rah was cut off by violent, riotous laughter. Korthyr wore a look of genuine amusement, and he was laughing deliberately into Noi’sho’rah’s increasingly angry face. At last, Noi’sho’rah became utterly irate, and he glowed with fantastic power that threw Korthyr from his feet and silenced his laughter. Noi’sho’rah, truly disgusted with Korthyr and with what his people had become, raised his hands to the heavens with a furious movement. Immediately, an impenetrable darkness filled the room. All eyes were blinded, and all sounds were silenced. Only the voice of Noi’sho’rah could be heard as he spoke the now-infamous words of prophetic doom.

"Know you that if the elven nations fall—if you fail to follow the true Way—the dead themselves shall rise up against you. There shall come one with more power than has ever been wielded and she shall lay your nations to waste. You shall stand helpless before her, your own petty bickering paving the way for her to take even the mightiest of your cities. Her touch shall be felt for generations and you shall never again rise to the power you had before her arrival. For those that follow The Way, there shall be a steady rise in power. The Path shall lead them to safety, even in the midst of the greatest danger to face Elanthia. Those who remain firm in the Faith will never need fear retribution. Lose your Way and you will feel fire from the heavens. Always, though, The Way stands open, even for those who have lost it. Return again to your beliefs and you shall regain your favor with the Arkati. I go now to stand with the Arkati, and my eyes shall be on my people… Always."

When the darkness cleared, Noi’sho’rah had vanished. He has been seen since, in visions and prayers, but never again has he walked among his people. He stands as their representative to the Arkati, their voice in the heavens. Stand firm in your beliefs, as their history shows us the terrible wrath that He and the other Arkati can inflict upon the People.

- Thoryn Elvsquin

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