Welcome to another Community Spotlight feature! These spotlights are dedicated entirely to community content, usually about a player town and presented by a single individual or an entire guild. For this week’s spotlight, we toured the beautiful town of Aelasar’s Forest. The town is located conveniently within Brittany as a nested town.
As told by Governor Cianna:
Welcome, travelers! We’re so happy you made it. Did you have trouble finding us? We are nestled deep in the woods surrounding Central Brittany, to be sure, but that makes it easier to keep a low profile. What’s that you ask? Why do we need to keep a low profile? Hmmm, well, that’s not easy to explain.
When my grandmother, the Outlander Aelasar Soryn, was a young bride, she found the transition from her Earthly life to a Novian one to be very difficult. Her loving husband, my grandfather, Alron, purchased what is now Aelasar’s Forest and gifted it to his young bride, hoping it would ease her homesickness. Through the years, it became Aelasar’s secret haven from the insanity of her new world, and provided a measure of the peaceful Druidic life she’d left behind.
Crafting Hall
No one, outside of Aelasar and Alron, knew of The Forest’s existence. And years later, as her son, Lindir, my accursed father, fell more and more under the influence of the dark Elves of Novia, Aelasar found it more of a refuge than she ever dreamed. But, really, that’s a story for another day.
Aelasar’s home
I own Aelasar’s Forest! Well, as much as anyone can own land. I prefer to see myself as its steward and I take that responsibility seriously. I do not believe in the adage “bigger is always better.”
We are a small crossroads village community, committed to each other and to the Forest we live in. Aelasar’s Forest is a refuge of sorts, opening our arms and our hearts to those who need sanctuary and support, particularly Outlanders who find themselves in a new, confusing, and sometimes terrifying new world. We’ve welcomed many adventurers and crafters here. We even have the lovely ladies of The Coven living in a remote part of the Forest. They bless the Forest and its inhabitants with their magic.
Cianna’s home
Many come from far and wide to find respite in Aelasar’s Forest because they know it is home to The Order of the Forest Dwellers. The Order, a secretive society based loosely on what is known of ancient Earthen Druidry, is dedicated to helping the less fortunate, the downtrodden, and, most importantly, those who feel homeless and alone in a strange new land. The Order provides temporary housing and sustenance to Outlanders as they attempt to forge new lives in New Britannia. Those who have received hospitality from the Order often return to visit.
Some even choose to stay and call the Forest their permanent home. An informal family of misfits has formed over the years and our ties are often stronger even than those formed by blood.
The Inn at Aelasar’s Forest
Nature is sacred to The Order, as evidenced by our reverence of the Four Elements (earth, air, fire, and water), and its respect for the many beings of this plane — and beyond — who dwell there. Of course, we do have our irreverent residents as well (*cough* Have you met Nick Cold, our Lt. Governor? *cough*).
We maintain a huge Crafting Hall that is available to all residents, as well as an Inn that offers free housing, a beautiful new Social Hall, a Community Garden, and a central marketplace. As you can see, our town is beautiful, serene, and welcoming.
Community Garden
Nature is sacred in Aelasar’s Forest
The Druid’s Den, the town social hall
We are enchanted that you’ve come by to visit us in our beloved town. We hope to see your return!
There are so many towns and historical landmarks to explore throughout New Britannia. Visit the Community Spotlight section of the website to read about more of these sprawling towns. If you are interested in sharing your tales of adventure, message community manager Berek!
Beautiful story!
Excellent description Cianna! I hope Aelesar’s Forest continues to grow.
In the meantime people should continue to read your writing (and Nick’s) available in the town and at our bookstores! https://goo.gl/Mqv8UD
Thank you, Alleine and Vyrin!
Wow! Amazing work. I will be visiting tonight after work.
Thank you, Daigoji Gai!
Took a while to finish up, a story with the forest backdrop written by Cianna and myself.
I Am Home
————
The fog was dense, but it was lifting. A blurry light in the distance grew brighter and clearer. Soon, a shadowy figure emerged from the mist, jumping from his raft to the wooden docks. He gave a short sigh of relief. Without being secured to the docks, the raft started to drift away, carried on by the currents, until it was out of sight. The man didn’t notice.
His heavy footsteps dragged along the docks. He stopped, took a deep breath, and smiled. His eyes rested on the bell tower nearby. “Never thought I’d be so glad to see that ugly thing again,” he mused.
Bending down, he grabbed a handful of soil and held it close to his nose. It was vibrant, and it smelled of life. Scattering the soil near his boots, he looked towards the shrine to his right. As he moved closer, he realized there were now two. The devotional to Honor he knew. It had been there before he’d left. The other devotional was obscured by the night. It was barely visible by the flame of a dying candle. As he neared, he saw the flame tickling the images etched on the walls of the devotional.
A single tear flowed from his eye. It was the Shrine of Sacrifice. It seemed to grab his heart from within and gently give it a squeeze. Memories of his fallen friends flooded his head. One by one, their deaths replayed over and over again. Falling to his knees, he wept.
“Damn the power of the shrines,” he sighed, as he tried to get hold of himself and shake off the memories. “You were right, Cianna. Sacrifice is necessary in this world.” With both hands, he gathered enough water from the shrine to wet his face. He felt invigorated then, with strength pouring into his body with each and every breath.
He stood, bowed, and mustered a simple prayer to those he remembered, his heart still grieving. Picking up his belongings, he walked as if compelled, moving behind the row houses to where a long winding path led to a special place, a place he and Cianna had built together in the early days. “Too often we do not remember our loved ones,” she would say as they worked side by side creating a memorial garden where close friends and relatives were honored.
He placed his hand on a pile of unused headstones. “So many more to honor now,” he thought.
Looking towards his crypt, he suddenly remembered his purpose for coming here. Fumbling within his belongings, he took a piece of fabric from his pack. Looking at it, he spat onto the ground and mumbled a few unintelligible words at the memories it invoked. But slowly, as he walked towards the stone crypt, he felt the weight on his shoulders lifting, one memory at a time. He felt as though the people he loved were cheering him on, holding him up. He thought he could hear their voices. He rubbed his eyes, and when he opened them, the night was silent around him. He entered the crypt, took a knee, and placed the remnant of the grey shroud onto the altar that Cianna had made, slightly to the right of the ageless ankh nearby.
“I’ve done it,” he said, closing his eyes. He’d sought the Shroud of the Avatar, fought the terrible battles against good and evil, and emerged victorious. But what a terrible price he’d had to pay.
As he quietly recited a druid’s prayer that Cianna once taught him a long ago, memories of her floated in his mind.
“How is she?” he wondered, as he left the memorial behind him, now walking past the familiar Crafting Hall where he and other good friends used to spend their days. Many of his crafted gear came out of those halls.
Reminded of the crafted bracers he wore, he couldn’t help but smile. The first pair of bracers that Cianna had ever made, the pieces were crude and uncomfortable. He remembered how she threw them on the floor in disgust after making them, angry with herself that they were not perfect. She’d left the Hall without a word, a hint of tears in her eyes. She was so hard on herself.
He’d picked the bracers up to examine them. NlcL Cqld was embroidered on it, and it took him a while before it sank into him what it meant. He’d kept the bracers, reinforcing them with meteoric iron, and padding them with supple leather for greater nimbleness and comfort. He’d worn them ever since.
There was laughter in the halls now, new, unfamiliar voices sharing stories of adventures. He contemplated going in, but decided not to. His mind was straying to an elven home a short distance away. Perhaps she’s there, he thought. Increasing his pace, he walked towards Cianna’s home. But he hadn’t walked far before he could tell she wasn’t home. The lights were out. The house looked cold from where he stood, and seemed to be telling him to go away.
With a heavy heart, he turned around, heading towards the small cabin he’d built a long time ago. “I miss her,” he thought.
Their last argument had led him to the quest for the shroud, a challenge he felt compelled to take. Now that he was back, though, it seemed that she, too, was gone. Feeling a sense of loss, his legs began to tire and felt like lead. The short walk to his cabin felt like one of the longest journeys of his life. Why had he come back? What was he looking for? Was this truly home?
Before he knew it, he was at the foot of the hill where his cabin home stood. A familiar tune floated in the air, an elven folk song that he knew by heart, and the faint smell of cooking food tickled his nose. Hope rose from the depths of despair. “Cianna,” he thought.
Dropping everything he had to the ground, he ran to the door, only one thought in his mind.
I am home.
A very nice story. It would be great if you had Lord Baldrith or Asclepius narrate it for you or one of you could too if you are able.;) Good Luck in the contest
Thank you, Majoria!