Just being a dark elf in Warhammer

Even though winter cast a velvet night over the forest, the ballroom was illuminated with a dazzling brightness and color, and Darkus did not open his mouth at the sight of such incredible beauty. It’s no longer strange, which means the threshold is high. He sat at an elegant curved table that grew out of the soft floor of the hall. Next to him was a smiling Aslay, telling lyrical stories and singing heart-wrenching songs in the beautiful language of music. Broken beautiful songs.

The enchanted walls are tall and majestic, with pale branches coiled in spirals and woven into intricate natural patterns, leading to a massive needlepoint icicle-vaulted ceiling. There are wood spirits there, and the ice sparkles with the golden light of the creatures playing within.

Each wall was decorated with bunches of branches and garlands, and a pile of dead wood burned in the center of the hall, surrounded by tables and benches made from the roots of the towering trees that surrounded the hall. .

The hall filled with warmth and life as the elves gathered to feast and sing, perhaps a hundred souls coming to rejoice with their companions? Human children walked through the halls, carrying plates of meat, fruit, and jugs of wine. Each of them wore a simple pale green coat with a white stag embroidered on it.

Darkus seemed to realize something after seeing these children, but it seemed to have nothing to do with him, and he was not a Holy Mother. As for the Holy Mother, that's Elsa's business. The problem is that Elsa didn't say anything.

"Moon Spring Woodland" Agvelon is a unique place. Magic fills every corner here, and even the body of every living being. The forest spirits and Asrai coexist in harmony. Once the time of threat and chaos comes, they will work hand in hand to make the little ones who dare to invade their sacred home die in pain and wail.

In addition to this, the River Grismery is filled with river nymphs who make ghostly sounds in the water and in the waterfalls. This is a land of spellcasters and magic, where everyday deeds are considered miracles in other corners of the forest. At the same time, it is also the only realm in Athel Loren that retains many Ulthuan traditions and has a detailed historical record.

As such, the asrai of the Moonglade believe themselves to be superior to their own kind, an arrogant attitude that endears them neither to others of their kind nor to the river elves in their realm. In fact, Grismoray could only bear to talk to them because of his unusual way of communicating. In contrast, the great eagles of the Gray Mountains rejoice in their close friendship with Moonglade, for anywhere else in Athel Loren, Asrai can no longer speak the ancient language.

Giant Eagle has its own system, commonly known as "English", which is not... Compared with Eagle Language, English is simply... Eagle Language is obscure and difficult to understand, and there are complex rhythms in the simple whistle. Learning the language of the eagle requires inheritance, and not every elf can communicate with the giant eagle. Lauren Loren's Cloudwalker family has preserved the heritage of Eagle Language, which is why Talos can call on the giant eagle to help at critical moments. Similarly, Asrai in Moonspring Glades maintains the tradition of Ulthuan. Eagle Language and the others It's relatively a bit like that.

Of course... some giant eagles also speak the languages ​​of other races, but they don't... because they are so proud that they don't feel the need to do so.

So... the raiding ship is more cost-effective. The sky-cutting ship driven by a giant eagle... How come there are so many giant eagles that are willing to be ridden by elves?

The team did not go south along Alain Locke to the Winter Dome, but came to Agvelon next door to Alain Locke. Perhaps due to customs and other reasons, Ms. River did not suffer the embarrassment and caution in the past, and the team was treated to a certain extent. welcome.

It was the time of winter and spring, and winter was a sad time in Athel Loren, and the forests slumbered in long darkness before the joys of spring came, but even in this dark time there was life and joy. To this end, the asrai of Moonspring Glades hold a winter feast to celebrate life in death and welcome the arrival of spring.

The scent of the newly bloomed flowers was incongruous but welcome, and the feeling of shared kinship and love between Tyrandor Evenstar's kin was contagious, even though Darkus knew he wasn't really participating in the celebration. Active. Perhaps it was this detachment that allowed him to better see the tension lurking behind the smiling faces of the revelers, to sense Aslay's underlying wariness.

Although even in such an obviously informal setting, Darkos sees hierarchy, could this be the reason for keeping the traditions of Ulthuan alive? Tyrandor and his family sat on the light wooden platform at the end of the hall. Liv and the Twilight sisters sat at the bottom. Behind them stood the Eternal Guard composed of a neighboring gang. He and Drusala sat across from Ariel's maid, along with Maranur and Alatar.

"It's a bit boring." Maranur murmured in a low voice, then picked up the Aveling fruit and gnawed it. The air was filled with the sweet and bitter aroma. After swallowing the fruit, he frowned and said, "Let's do it next. Do you want to eat this fruit every day?”

"What else? They have some kind of agreement with the forest. This kind of prey can't be hunted, and that kind of prey can't be hunted. We have to leave the meat we brought to the cold lizards." He tilted his chin and watched Aslay elegantly walk around the table. Darkus, who was dancing slowly by the fire pit, responded somewhat boredly. He could see that the Asrais were very respectful to the painted war dancers, but he could also see that the Asrais were uncomfortable with the approach of the war dancers, and seemed to have some taboo that he didn't know about.

A shadow-dancer-like being is leaping and tumbling on the high arches of the hall, moving as if unconstrained by gravity.

"It's so gorgeous. The wonderful acrobatics and somersaults dazzled me. The most elegant human acrobats in Ulbrik performed moves like pregnant sows, like rolling in a pig pen."

Darkus trembled after hearing Alatar's sharp remarks. He suppressed the desire to laugh and reached for the wine glass, only to find that it was empty. He was about to look for more when he heard a small voice coming from beside him.

"Sir, would you like more water or fruit?"

Darkus turned his head and saw a page boy in green uniform standing behind him, holding a pot of water in one hand and a plate of fruit in the other. He nodded, picked up the wine glass and asked the waiter to pour the wine. After the waiter moved, he noticed the boy's rosy and healthy face.

"Sir, do you have any other requests?"

"No, thank you, are you a human?" Darkus' hand that wasn't holding the wine glass grabbed the boy's clothes. When the boy was turned around by him, he saw more, a round face and a dark face. skin and human ears.

"Are you human?!" Darkus confirmed again.

"My lord? I...can I go? My lord?" The boy said, with a trace of doubt flashing in his eyes.

"Before you answer my question, no, what's your name, boy?" Darkus had heard of this before, but now that he had bumped into the real owner, he had to ask carefully.

"my name?"

"Yeah, what do they call you?"

"Aidan, my lord."

"A good Bretonnian name. Tell me, Aidan, why are you here?"

"I'm here for the Winter Feast."

"No, no, no, I mean in Athel Loren, why are you here?"

"I've always been here." Aidan responded with a confused look on his face. He was baffled by the words of the elf in front of him.

"How long have you been here?" Darkus asked the most curious part of his heart.

"I don't know, my lord, it's always...?"

"Very well, Aidan, very well, tell me which king sits on the throne of Bretonnia?"

"King? Let me see... I think his name was Louis? I think they called him the Fearless."

Darkus leaned back and let go of the boy's coat. He felt something really strange.

Louis was the son of Gilles. After he was recognized as the ruler of Bretonnia, he immediately set out to find the miracle of the Lake Goddess. He also became the first adventure knight in Bretonnia. After completing many heroic deeds, he received the blessing of the Lady of the Lake, and that was when he received the title of Fearless. But these are not important. What is important is that it happened in 996-1001 of the Imperial Calendar. It has been a thousand years ago.

"If I remember correctly, this Louis the Fearless was a person from thousands of years ago? The king of Bretonnia? How is this possible? This little monkey is actually bigger than me? Could it be..." Maranur Turn your head at the end to look for the most peculiar person in the group.

"He is not, dear. The flow of time here is different from the outside, and it is also different from the forest we have been in before." Alatar stopped Maranur's move and explained patiently.

Athel Loren is different from Lauren Loren. Asanok, who lives in Lauren Loren, is a real-life elf who has come through the War of Revenge. As for Athel Loren, Darkus remembered that Liv once told him that he lived for more than seven hundred years? He also asked the Twilight sisters, and the twins told him that they lived for more than three hundred years.

This is completely nonsense in Darkus' view. It is known that Liv is the aunt of the Twilight sisters and has taken care of them since they became twins. The Twilight sisters killed the dwarf general who tried to invade Athel Loren in 1325 of the Imperial Calendar. This incident was recorded in the chronology. It is the winter of 2028 in the imperial calendar, and this is completely inconsistent with everything.

"Really? It seems like just yesterday, I don't remember much, my mother told me this story." The boy's eyes were filled with confusion.

"Where is your mother? Where did you come from?"

"I don't remember. I'm from Athel Loren, my lord."

"But you're not an elf, you're human, you must have come from somewhere."

"I don't know, my lord, I've always been here."

"So do you have a last name?"

"Garamon, my lord, Aidan Garamon."

After hearing the surname Garamon, Darkus' expression changed. If what the boy said before was true, then this boy might be... the ancestor of Bretonnia's legendary Holy Grail Knight Karad Garamon. If the timeline is normal, Kalad five hundred years later will come to Athel Loren after becoming an exploration knight, and maybe he will meet Aidan Garamon. This...

Darkus looked closely at the boy named Aidan, and he could see a ghostly glow emanating from the boy's skin, a timeless quality that spoke of a moment frozen in time.

The boy's eyes are different colors, one blue and one green, which indicates that he has second sight and has the ticket to become a spell caster. These children with magical talents will be taken away by the prophetesses in childhood.

Although it was a great honor for the child to be chosen, the family mourned the loss of their son and daughter, even though it was believed that the child would go to a better place to serve the Lady of the Lake. Many years later, a handful of girls would return to Bretonnia as prophetesses, but the fate of the boys was... unknown. Of course, it can't be said that they know nothing, there are still some sons of Bretonnia.

The boys lived in the forests of Athel Loren, forever and ever...

"Sir, are you feeling unwell?"

"No...no, I'm fine, Aidan, you have nothing to do here, just do what you have to do."

Aidan nodded, bowed to Darkus, and returned to the hall to continue his duties.

Darkus watched Aidan leave and kept thinking. There was no doubt that the lives of most children in Bretonnia were miserable, painful and impoverished, but the thought of a child being denied his natural age made him feel… but who could say whether that life was good or bad?

Liv, who was sitting not far from Darkus, was watching everything happening on the opposite side while smiling at Aslay whom she knew, enjoying the warmth she felt here now. Is this what home feels like? She had felt like an outsider her entire life, and now she felt accepted and welcomed, but she didn't think it was real, and Talos' words had touched her after all.

The Shadow Dancer performs incredible acrobatics, her nearly completely exposed body jumping and spinning in the air while the swords dance around her body. The blade swept across like a silver thread, and the waving blade kept making the sound of cutting the air.

Darkus watched quietly. He felt that the martial arts performed by the shadow dancers were incredible from a certain perspective and were better than Lauren Loren's counterparts. He has seen and participated in many performances, but the performance of the Shadow Dancer in front of him was undoubtedly spectacular. This may be the reason why this is the base camp of Loik's faith. Moreover, this shadow dancer is not yet a member of the neighboring gang of Kedas in the Forest of Deceivers, and belongs to a relatively peripheral group, even though Moon Spring Grove is already very close to the Forest of Deceivers.

Delina stood up after drinking a glass of wine, nodded to Cradin, and prepared to join the shadow dancers. However, when her feet took a step, she stopped and looked at the arch of the hall.

Darkus turned his head and looked at the arch. When he looked at the visitor, the visitor was also looking at him. He could feel the alert and appraising eyes behind the mask of the visitor. He raised the wine glass on the table to greet the visitor. Then he drank it all in one gulp.

"Hegria? Welcome! Where is your father? Is he preparing for the ceremony? I haven't seen him for a long time." After seeing the visitor, Tyrandor stood up and asked in a friendly tone.

"Yes, Uncle Tyrandor. My father is preparing the rites, the last rites! I am here for him this time."

Following Hegeria's finger pointing, the elves in the hall focused their attention on Darkus, which made him a little confused. Before he had time to do or say anything, the elves looked at him again. Be attracted.

After seeing the eyes gathered again, Heglia stopped applauding. She turned her head and nodded to her companions behind her. Then she nodded to the shadow dancer standing in the center of the hall. When she received a response from the shadow dancer, , she crouched down, the sword tilted upward behind her body. Then, she stood up, and every movement she made was smooth and elegant. She strode forward, ignoring Aslay who greeted her, and went straight to the empty space in front of Darkus.

Darkus already knew who Hegaria was, Phil Daric, the woodland lord of the Deceiver's Wood and Loic's chosen one. After getting closer, he could feel more emotions from Heglia's almond-shaped eyes, hostility, wariness, hesitation, anxiety, confusion, etc., but he still wasn't ready to do anything, he just Watch quietly.

The flames in the center of the hall suddenly erupted, reflecting the blazing flames.

Hegaria raised her arms high, holding both swords in her hands. The taut muscles on her chest rippled with the tattoos. Her companions and the shadow dancers who joined them jumped and spun in the flickering flames, shouting war and death. song.

"Them?" Cradin asked softly in Delina's ear as she sat down again.

"It seems to be the Dance of the Dragon?" Delina responded with an uncertain tone.

Hegaria stood in front of the blazing flames. Her mask looked savage and wild in the flames. Then she let out a heart-rending cry. The cry echoed in the hall, touching the most primitive heart of every elf. , with a strong desire.

The Dance of the Dragons occurs very rarely, and only a few of Loik's Chosen can perform such a dangerous and complex dance.

Tyrandor raised his wine glass, trying to block the complicated look on his face. He used his peripheral vision to look at Darkus, who was sitting there admiring it, and at Druch, who only appeared in the records. As Lord of the Woodlands, he knew what Hegaria was performing, the Dance of the Dragons.

The Dance of the Dragon appears very rarely, and only a few Loik voters can perform such a dangerous and complex dance. Tyrandor also knew what the Dance of the Dragon contained, but what he didn't expect was... Then he sighed and drank the wine in the wine glass. He had a very strange premonition that Athel Loren seemed to be changing.

Hegeria moved after howling, and then moved after the fire returned to its natural state. There was silence in the hall, and the dance of the dragons began.

Darkus looked at the Loic dancers surrounding the fire. He didn't know what was happening, but he was content to watch the scene in front of him. The paint on the dancers blurs with the speed of their movements, colors weaving into patterns as they dance in ferocious, savage ways. As the rhythm of the dance quickens, a song of loss, pain and joy spreads from the dancers in the center of the hall.

The dancers become wilder, their passion more intense, their joy more extreme, more sinister. They leaped, cartwheeled, and somersaulted through the flames, gathering together like a whirlpool, then falling apart as Hegaria landed in the center of the flames.

The dancers jumped towards Heglia with joy, but with a cry, she flew over the heads of the dancers, tumbled and landed on the ground opposite the dancers. She leapt again as the dancers tumbled, her weapon cutting the air as she passed between them. She laughed maniacally, jumped and spun, and easily dodged the flying swords and spears.

The breeze of dancing weapons blew through Darkus' hair, and the dance became more and more wild. The hall was filled with deafening drums, beating heavily with his rising heartbeat. He couldn't tell whether he was really He heard rhythmic music, or whether the rhythm echoed deep in his soul. Although there was no stage effect here, it was very stage effect.

The dancers, almost too fast to be captured, detached themselves from the center of the hall, spun and twisted in the air, and landed among the stunned onlookers. Their blades flashed faster and faster, spears and swords whirling in silver light, sending the air into wild motion.

The wind filled the hall, rising from a gentle breeze, to a sighing breeze, and finally to a howling gale. The leaves rotated from the ground and fluttered in the hall under the wind. After a while, the air was filled with gold and red.

Screaming guard dancers spin flickering blades and let tornadoes of leaves float with their movements. Hegria whirled like a dervish in the gathering spiral of flying leaves, her blade carving circular spiral patterns in the leaves as she leaped from table to table. The tornado of leaves moved slowly, its course slanting, until each leaf passed through the roaring flames in the center of the hall. Each leaf burst into flames, spinning in the air and burning like fireflies.

Thousands of flaming leaves swirled around the pillar of fire as the dancers swirled and molded their swords and spears into some new, majestic shape. The dance speaks to the spirits present on some deep and visceral level, their bodies responding with intense ecstasy, their souls soaring with the magic they see.

Slowly at first, but faster and faster as the shape takes shape, the sinuous shape of a massive beast emerges from the burning leaves. A huge body of light takes shape, then a long tail and huge wings of fire emerge from the dancers' creation. Finally, the blazing leaves formed a huge dragon head with a wide and powerful jaw.

A huge fire dragon twists and turns in the air, leaping dancers supporting it with deadly dance and flashing blades. It swooped down, its roar of fire bringing a powerful sound.

A lonely figure stood in front of the power and majesty of the fire dragon. Heglia stood motionless, holding both swords in front of her, laughing wildly. The dragon rushed towards her, opened its flaming maw and swallowed her whole. The visual impact was so exquisite that the elves present had to resist the urge to draw their swords and fight the monster. She jumped out of the way of the swooping dragon, then somersaulted onto the dragon's neck and slashed with her weapon.

Guided by the dancers, the dragon attacked Heglia again and again, but each time it could only bite into thin air. Heglia expertly dodged its attacks and turned around to fight back each time. .

The confrontation continued, with the dragon biting and Hegolia rolling and leaping around it.

Darkus marveled at the incredible scenery in front of him and Hegolia's incredible skills. Maybe Hegolia can really kill a dragon? He looked around, and he could feel every elf present feeling wildness deep within, stirring in the primal heart. When he turned his head, he saw two animals appearing at his feet

"Weasel?" Darkus tilted his head back and looked at the weasel who was standing upright and looking at him with a confused expression, sniffing something. For a moment, he was really worried that the two Wong Tai Sins would open their mouths and ask him something.

In the center of the hall, Heglia completed the final blow. In an instant, the Fire Leaf Dragon fell from the sky, and its powerful figure disappeared as the dancers suddenly stopped dancing.

There was no cheers or applause. The elves present once again turned their attention to Darkus, who was staring at the two weasels. Feeling that he was being watched, he stopped and was about to touch the weasel's hand. He raised his head and saw Heglia's eyes close at hand, with madness and anxiety in them.

After looking at each other for a long time, Heglia took a step back and gestured to the boy not far away. She picked up the wine flask and poured the wine into Darkus's glass. After everything was done, she greeted Darkus.

"Mormo and Mauro like you, please drink this cup."

"It's very exciting, very exciting. But... maybe you don't know, I have many titles, one of which is Dragon Slayer, and I have faced many dragons not long ago, and my relationship with them is very friendly, yes, them."

The drink is still the same drink as before, but the drink is not the same drink as before. Darkus knew that it must have been some kind of special ceremony or sacrifice, and this glass of wine should become no longer ordinary with the blessing of the ceremony. Thinking of this, he shrugged and raised the wine glass to his lips. However, when he was about to drink the liquid inside, he made another speech to praise himself, and then he raised the wine glass to signal to the elves present.

Amid the cheers of his companions, Darkus drank the liquid, and the sweet aroma of the wine filled his senses.

Aslay drinks wine to be more precise, it is a kind of drink, a honey-flavored elf wine fermented from Aveline fruit, a unique and powerful drink. For elves, this wine is like dwarf beer, with other effects. Within a few hours after drinking it, you will gain a bonus to your magical perception, and you will feel your soul rising from your body. The effect is similar to the soul projection spell.

Of course, this is for elves. If humans drink it, their souls will not only rise. It can even leave the body directly and does not return to the body before the effect disappears. Then the human will not die, but will become a vegetarian plant for the ogre, and the soul will forever lose contact with the body.

As Darkus had judged, there was something wrong with the drink, its warm nectar taste unlike anything he had ever tasted before. As he placed the glass on the table, his world erupted in golden light. Light and color filled his senses, and it was as if the tree branches were on fire as the sky changed. Bright brilliance filled the air, clouds of vermilion, green, and jade smoke rose up, and the flame in the center glowed bright blue. At this moment, he could see the golden thread of life soaking into every object around him.

Darkus' normal vision began to wane until he could see nothing earthly, when all he saw were golden threads of life that touched and connected everything in the hall, colors of movement and emotion all around him When his aura appeared, he smiled. The colors swirled and mixed together to form a vague essence of life. He could see that all the answers were encapsulated in the colors, but he could not describe this color, even more indescribable than the colorful black.

Darkus smiled dreamily and giggled drunkenly as the wine coursed through his senses, waving his hands in front of him and laughing at the colors that spread around him as they moved. He saw no flesh or bone, only the pulsating yellow light of life roaring around his body. Swirls of sparks and light followed him, and embers fell around him, swirling in a golden web.

Darkus couldn't hear the noise, and he felt like he was falling into a tunnel, spinning and tumbling in a colorful whirlpool. The fainter sound of fire echoed in his mind, as if coming from a distant corridor. When everything was over, his vision returned to normal, and he found himself in the forest. After looking at the pond in front of him for a moment, he did not choose to stir the water, but turned to look at the forest in the distance.

The trees are like pillars of fire, and the leaves are like bright spots in the dark night. The sap flows like a molten river through the woods, into the ground, and spreads throughout the forest, forming a web that interconnects everything.

The realization that everything was connected by life was so profound and clear that it made Darkus make an expression of surprise.

All life is one, and everything is a circle.

Darkos' consciousness was no longer at the edge of the pond. He moved, soaring over Athel Loren, reveling in his newfound freedom, his spirit no longer bound to his body. He could see and hear the beating heart of the world, filled with countless fertility, full of life everywhere...

Of course, it was not all life. In the depths of the forest, Darkus saw pain, hot, scorching, and deadly. His golden flames passed through the trees and went towards the pain.

The light of an elf's life was faint and flickering, stumbling from tree to tree, the flames of despair burning in bright red waves. As a sound sounded in front of Darkus, he turned his attention to the source of the sound and found that he was back at the pond again.

A white deer appeared in front of Darkus. Its body was majestic and muscular, covered with snow-white hair, like the crown of an ice and snow feast. The muscles on its body are full of strength, exuding a majestic aura, as if it is a real king of the forest, and its appearance makes the surrounding air seem solemn.

While Darkus lamented the beauty of the white deer, he could also feel the confusion in the eyes of the white deer? It seems that Bai Lu was immediately stunned after seeing him? It seems that you have seen something extraordinary, or foresee something that has a way out from before? He looked at the confused Bai Lu with the same confused expression, his big eyes staring at the small ones for a while. When he was about to raise his hand to say hello to the white deer, he woke up...

"What do you see?"

"You're a bit like this..." Darkus stretched out his fingers to touch Heglia's mask. He didn't like this feeling. Who knew what he looked like behind the mask, even though he knew he still didn't like this feeling. When he pushed the mask away, he continued, "White deer! Two orioles singing in the green willows, and a line of white deer ascending to the blue sky."

"It appeared in my sight. It was nearly two and a half meters tall. Of course, not counting its gleaming ivory crown antlers, it turned a pair of shining eyes with amber spots." After a bad joke that no one cared about, Darkus continued his sermon.

When Darkus was halfway through what he said, all the Aslays present, regardless of their status or strength, stood up from their chairs. With shock on their faces, they spoke. Exclamations.

"What? What does White Deer mean to you? Or does it mean something?" Darkus was not shocked. He was shocked to the core. He didn't even understand the way inside. However, when he asked the question, something suddenly came to mind, such as the stag that Arthur saw several times in The Wilderness 2? (End of chapter)