A/N: Based on EQ1, this would be my first ever foray into writing for pleasure and not when a teacher told me to.
It's old. Can be a little wordy when I got caught up with game lore, but it was fun to put my and my (now) husband's characters onto paper (literally, scribbling on notepads with a flashlight under the covers instead of sleeping).


All was calm that night as the Sirensbane glided silently across the Ocean of Tears. The moon glowed on the water's surface and the islands were nothing more than hulking shadows, on some of which lights flickered from distant campfires and windows. It was peaceful with the usual noises one would expect: waves splashing and thumping against the hull; ropes and wood creaking as the ship steadily glided across the black water; wind snapping at a loose sail and the pennant atop a mast; sailors passing along orders as the captain corrected their heading based on the celestial bodies; a haunting melody drifting down from a sailor playing the harmonica in the crows' nest. In harmony with the tune was a barely perceptible humming emanating from the ships' figurehead; the magic imbued into her to counteract the song of the sirens that beckoned ships and sailors to join them on the rocks.

Near the stern, horses were tethered tightly with their heads covered in attempts to keep them calm. A stable hand walked amongst them, whispering calming words to the beasts, while another cleaned the deck of soiled straw, laying fresh straw out. In a small cabin below decks, a Teir'dal couple rested, contemplating the journey leading to a new life. Their sea voyage almost at an end, Captain Aranel Al'Aensar smiled down at his bride as he smoothed her hair.

He was a promising officer in the Indigo Brotherhood, favored to be one of the youngest to achieve dragoon status since the wars. He was from a middle class family in which the power of mana had never manifested. Rather than letting that become a deficiency or a sore topic, it had become a point of pride to the extent that great pains were taken to ensure the family remained without magic, and thus it became traditional to serve within the warrior guildhall. Secretly, he wished he could join the ranks of the Dread Guard in the guarding of the City; a less dangerous position that would allow him to be home with his family more often.

Felanni Al'Aensar was from a lesser House and a priestess within the Temple of Hate, specializing in field medicine, physical recovery and therapy, which is how she met her husband after he was hurt in a skirmish in the Commonlands. They were wed without the blessing of their families; hers believed he was beneath their daughter and they did not want the family line to become impure with the manaless, while his family was happy he was marrying a noble but they did not understand why their son could not find a suitable female without the taint of mana.

This trip was to establish trade between the Orcs of Faydwer, specifically the Crushbone Clan, and the city of Neriak, as decreed by the King Nathox Thex. This was all unbeknownst to Queen Cristanos, thus none of her guilds were included in the delegation. The constant quarrelling between the pair of self-declared monarchs caused tension within the city, along with the strain as the guilds worked to maintain their independence and the shuffling of alliances. These were all the more reasons for the couple to be away for a while, even with a child on the way.

During the darkest time before the dawn, the ship came into sight of the shores of the Butcherblock Mountains, a lone lantern marking the rocky outcropping north of the harbor. Although the City of Men, Freeport, would allow anyone passage so long as they paid enough coin, the denizens of Faydwer were less opportunistic, and so the captain had his crew glide the ship almost to a stop near the outcropping that allowed the passengers of less 'tolerable origins' to disembark safely and dryly in the cover of darkness, to be greeted by two small orc runners.

The journey through the mountain range was uneventful, as the small delegation of dark elves and their guides stopped for the day at the Orc outpost tucked into a small valley adjacent to the caravan trail. The following night, the party made their way along the trail, avoiding other night travelers who were just as uninterested in the group as they of them. Soon, they traversed the pass through the Hills of Shade and moved into the greater of the Faydarks, slowly travelling north through the forest to the craggy hills.

Dusk was falling when sentries of the Clan spotted the delegation, sending runners ahead to let the others know of the arrival. Once within the gates of Clan Crushbone, the Emperor and his staff greeted the delegation and put forth a feast to welcome them, the cheers intensifying when they saw the priestess was with child; children were rare amongst both elves and orcs alike, giving cause for greater celebration. Slaves from the island continent served the meal, some sporting chains between their feet and little more than clean rags for clothing. Felanni frowned from behind her scented handkerchief at the sight of bruises and scars on the slaves, troubled at the idea of her proud city participating in slavery, even if they did take those treacherous Koda'dal down a notch or two. The hatred she saw in the few slaves that were not yet broken would do her own people proud.

The following day, Ambassador D'vinn and representatives of the Dark Bargainers, along with other interested parties, began the long process of negotiations and hammering out the details of possible trade routes. Meanwhile, the priestess began to swap healing techniques with the female Orcs and Aranel started to assist in the training of Crushbone's militia. So began their new life, the monotony broken when eventually a baby girl was born to them, an elves' time in the womb longer than that of Men. There was another feast held in celebration and honor of the new mother, new children being far and few between within the Clan. On her sixth day after a long birthing, a small tattoo was marked just inside the baby's left hipbone with the family symbols on her hip: a river and a bulrush crossed.


By the girl-child's first year, the elves of the forest had caught wind of the Orcs participating in organized fighting. This coupled with the rumors of slavery and missing citizens caused the Elder to send forth an army of Kelethins' finest, with all of her guilds represented in force and a handful of Songweavers to lead the battle cries. In the dead of night, the Feir'dal attacked Clan Crushbone, Faydarks' Champions easily proving more adept in the forest than the orcs, sneaking up behind the sentinels and soundlessly slitting their throats. It was a precise and deadly attack that soon breached the gates, catching the sleeping Clan almost unawares.

A sentry on the castles' ramparts raised the alarm when he noticed strange figures creeping along the edges of the fields. Their cover blown, the wood elves set to their work quickly. A division of the invading force headed for the slave adding to the pandemonium as they freed the slaves with keys found on the bodies of the Orcs. Once freed, the slaves joined in the battle, taking weapons from the corpses of their captors. The tents and buildings surrounding the castle were set on fire, casting strange flickering silhouettes as Orc and Teir'dal alike fought Faydark forces. The air crackled with the energy and hissed as volleys of arrows flew from ground to ramparts and vice versa. As the castle gates were pounded on, the orcs and dark elves struggled to regroup and drive away their attackers.

The baby lay in her cradle and screamed as the castle quivered with each thundering crash of the battering ram. Torn between her duties as mother and the Clan's master healer, the Teir'dal woman wrapped her baby tightly first in her own velvet wedding dress then in a cloak embroidered with their crest. She clasped her child to her chest, tears rolling down her face as the door banged open, revealing Aranel standing there, a sword and an axe held before him, blood seeping from beneath his armor. Behind him, a group of orcish archers clattered up the stairs to add reinforcements on the roof.

The couple exchanged a look. She sobbed as he stepped into the chamber to embrace his wife and child as a small orc runner lingered at the door. They each gave the now-quiet infant a kiss on her forehead, murmuring how much they loved her and prayed that their god would keep her safe. Realizing they may never see their baby again, they reluctantly gave their child to the orc, who disappeared just as the castle felt like it rocked on its foundations: the main gate had been breached.

Quickly, Felanni placed her hand under his tunic, her fingers finding his wound. Calling forth the power of Innoruuk, she channeled it through her hands, healing the wound, and giving her husband renewed energies. A quick prayer blessed him with the protection of the gods and without a word, the couple ran out to lend their aid in driving off the invaders.