Qstoryline: High Elf Chapter 12
High Elf Chapter 12
High Elf Chapter 12 Order Storyline
location: Well of Whispers, Avelorn
npc: Sethril Stillwater
Chapter Lore: The musical chime of water on stone echoed through the Well of Whispers, carried upward on the constant breeze of dampened air. Sung from the rock in the years before the sundering, the spiraling stairway led to crystal caves where loremasters and mages alike would come to commune with the secret heart of Ulthuan.
Sethril Clearwater was one such loremaster, journeying from Saphery to meet with the Everqueen. But Alarielle's progress through Avelorn had been cut short by the presence of Dark Elf forces, and the Everqueen had been forced to retreat to her court, deep in the heart of the Gaen Vale.
Undaunted Sethril had set out downriver, only to discover crossbow wielding shades were already in position along the banks. Finding himself cut off from his destination, Sethril made the choice to remain at the Well. A choice that now seemed fortuitous given the breakdown of communication throughout Avelorn.
"Loremaster!" Hurried footsteps accompanied the worried call and Sethril's eyes widened in surprise.
Galain Clearbreeze kneeled beside the water's edge, a motionless figure clasped in his arms. "Orowyn?"
Coming closer, Sethril could barely make out the regal features of Orowyn Silkblade. Covered in livid weals, the handmaiden's face was a horrific reflection of its previous beauty.
"Who has done this?" A cold fury flared inside the loremaster's soul.
"She has not spoken. We found her collapsed at the dock, Sethril. Her vessel was feathered with bolts." The warrior began gently washing the gore caked on Orowyn's face.
"Galain?" Orowyn's eyes were open, fear and painfilled. "The Everqueen's Court is under attack!" Galain met Sethril's gaze over the head of the dying handmaiden as her breaths grew labored. "The kin-traitors, they poisoned the sentinels. We fought them, but we were too few..."
"Rest, Orowyn. You have done more than your mistress could ever hope." The warrior gently stroked the maiden's brow.
"No! You do not...understand." Grimacing in pain, Orowyn desperately gasped for air. "Alarielle... they have taken Alarielle!"
The words fell upon Sethril, crushing his soul beneath their weight. The Everqueen embodied the spirit of Isha, the goddess of life itself. If she were killed, it would mean the death of land with no hope of future renewal. Alarielle's death would mean the end of Ulthuan.
Looking down upon the still form of Orowyn Silkblade, Sethril allowed an icy resolve to fill his breast.
"Mourn later, Galain. Now is the time for war."