Just being a dark elf in Warhammer

(There is too little content about the temple, so I will go into flashbacks and write about the interior scenes... the protagonist will be here soon)

When the ship docked again, Eltharion stepped onto the solid land. The sea breeze blew across his cheeks, bringing with it a salty smell, as if welcoming his arrival. Facing the cigarette handed over by Bel-Elhor, he took it directly and put it in his mouth without saying anything polite like thank you. He raised his hand to block the sea breeze and let Bel-Elhor light it for him.

The flame flickered in the sea breeze, as if it would go out at any moment, but in the end the cigarette was lit.

He took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled the smoke after it passed through his lungs, forming a light smoke ring that drifted away with the wind. Then, he frowned, brought the cigarette in his hand to his eyes, and looked at it carefully, and then he looked at Bell-Ahol.

"Everything has been arranged." Although Eltharion said nothing, his actions and expressions expressed it. Bel-Ahor, pretending to be confused, blew out a puff of smoke and shrugged at Eltharion, with a hint of relief in his tone.

"You...are a heavy smoker." Isharion glanced at him with a hint of helplessness in his tone.

"Compared to drinking, I prefer smoking." The discovered Bell-Aihor smiled naturally, with a sly look in his eyes. "There are still some stocks, but we can't move them. We have to... How cruel this is to me. It's like putting fish in front of a cat, and the cat can only watch. Do you understand this feeling?"

Eltharion did not respond, but shook his head silently, and then continued to smoke. While smoking, he stared at the cigarette in his hand, as if thinking about something.

If he remembered correctly, before they set off, Dacus gave them a lot of high-end cigarettes, and the one he was smoking now... was produced in Clarkalond. He could clearly feel that this cigarette was indeed from Naggaroth.

In Naggaroth, there is an essential difference between high-end cigarettes and low-end cigarettes. High-end cigarettes are more like rare luxury goods. Although they are sold to the public and can be purchased by ordinary people, they are very expensive, as if they are a symbol of status. Low-end cigarettes have gone from being rare in the beginning to being common goods now, covering all the shops of Naggaroth, just like dust that can be seen everywhere.

The problem between the two is not a problem with the tobacco leaves, nor a problem with the production process, but... a problem with the soil.

Today, Naggaroth is able to be self-sufficient in vegetables thanks to the underground planting area under Naggarond. However, the smell... in the words of Daquus, "a smell of Deha, not to mention eating it, it makes me feel sick just by smelling it."

Of course, this is a bit exaggerated. They are edible, but that's just edible. Vegetables exist more to supplement necessary nutrients. If given a choice, no one in Naggaroth would touch these things.

After the success of the vegetable basket plan, Dacus did not stop there, but continued to expand the area of ​​the cellar and began to grow tobacco leaves. There was no other way, the demand for tobacco in Duruchi was too great, and the goods imported from Asheril alone were not enough to meet the demand.

When the tobacco leaves are mature, they are picked and dried into leaves, and then transported from Nagarond to Klarkarond via the train connecting the Gorond-Klarkarond line for final processing.

That is, it is made into cigarettes.

Unlike the beginning, when wax boards were mostly used and paper was used in a few cases, the papermaking industry in Duruchi was now well established, with large amounts of paper produced from Clarkalond every day and supplied to Naggaroth and Asheril.

Making cigarettes is no problem at all.

The coldness of this land comes not only from the climate, but also from the depths of the soul. In essence, this is a land of desolation, death, torture and pain.

As for the fact that smoking is harmful to health and affects motor function, isn’t it even worse for elves, who are immortal species, to smoke?

It doesn't exist. Do you know anything about magic?

Tilya and Hemara combined life magic with shadow magic to create an inhalation magic item. When the user inhales the smoke from the item into the lungs, the smoke will heal the organs and decompose the oil. Not only that, the smoke can also heal the effects of nicotine on the nerves!

Magic is so magical!

This is also why Bale said, "I prefer smoking to drinking."

In recent years, the Emerald Garden in the south has even developed the incredible "Green Finger" spell. (Really?)

The spell's effects are area-based, depending on the caster's strength. By touch, the caster can spread life and prosperity. Living plants grow to their natural size and productivity, even if growing conditions are unfavorable. Dead plants return to life within a day, returning to their previous state.

This is simply a reverse fuel gauge. Fortunately, this spell is not so powerful that it is effective against magical plants, otherwise...

"You know what?" Bel-Ahol suddenly spoke up, breaking the silence, "Sometimes, I feel that smoking is like escaping reality. In the smoke, everything becomes blurred, and the troubles disappear."

Eltharion did not answer, but nodded silently. His eyes sometimes stayed on the cigarette in his hand, and sometimes looked towards his other home - Tal Yvresse. In the northeast of Tal Yvresse, there was a piece of land that belonged to him, which carried the memories of his childhood and the traces of his growth.

After getting the answer in the Temple of Asuryan, he and Bel-Ahor returned to Lothern along the same route, and from Lothern they came to Tor Yvresse, the capital of the Kingdom of Yvresse.

At this moment, Eltharion stood on the dock, his eyes sweeping over the moored ships, the surrounding magnificent buildings, and the bustling vestibules and restaurants. Everything was so beautiful, prosperous and full of vitality. But he always felt that something was missing, and he couldn't tell what it was.

There is no doubt that Tor Yvresse is an elegant and miraculous city, even more so than Lothern. Before Finnubar became the Phoenix King, Lothern was just a declining port city, famous only because the Phoenix Court was located there. Tor Yvresse is different, it is a truly great city.

Tar Yvresse sits at the mouth of a natural harbor, built on nine hills that rise from the fertile adjacent plains. The city's silhouette stands like a beacon above the dark rock, illuminating the surrounding landscape. The towering city walls on the land side, the rugged crater behind, and the green shawl of the forests covering the hillsides, adding a touch of natural life to the city.

This great city is filled with towers, and its mighty, towering white walls carved with protective runes dominate the surrounding landscape. A gleaming golden gate leads into the city, symbolizing the city's prosperity and splendor.

Elegant mansions rose from the rocks, extending along sweeping curves and wrapped around graceful colonnades. Gilded marble statues towered over each roofline, silently announcing the city's wealth and glory.

Domed roofs, silver arches, and wide boulevards can be seen everywhere, and Asur walk the streets in gorgeous costumes that would not look out of place in the Phoenix Court of Lothern, but rather make them more noble and elegant.

In short, Tal Iris can be summed up in one word: blessed butter!

The most delicious sweets and pastries can be found in thriving markets. Delicacies from all over Ulthuan delight the hearts of the Asur, with exquisite food and drink to satisfy even the most discerning gourmet.

Eltharion remembered spending time here with his brother as a child. They happily bargained with merchants, tasted dream brews from Avelorn, feasted on glittering fish caught from the shores of Koth'Que, and feasted on lion meat hunted in the forests of Chrace. Those were times filled with laughter and carefreeness, as if everything had stopped at the most beautiful moment.

"There is no chicken rack noodles here." Bell-Aihor's tone was filled with nostalgia. "To be honest, I miss the taste of chicken rack noodles. The chicken rack is delicious, and it is paired with chili and spices. Ah... It's a pity that you may not be able to eat it for a long time, and I..." At the end, he spread his hands, with a hint of helplessness in his tone.

Eltharion laughed.

When he was in Nagarond, whenever he had free time, he would go to a noodle shop in the north of the city to eat a meal of chicken rack noodles. The chicken rack was a must, and he also liked to eat chicken stomach. He liked the noodles to be wide, which had a great taste. A bite of chicken rack, a bite of chicken stomach, and then a bite of noodles, that kind of satisfaction made him unforgettable.

"But this is my home, isn't it?" There was a hint of emotion in Eltharion's tone.

"Yes, home! It feels good to be home, doesn't it?" Bel-Ahol responded with a smile, his eyes sweeping across the surrounding streets, a hint of warmth flashing in his eyes.

"Let's go."

The brothers walking on the street were not wearing gorgeous cloaks with light and shadow, nor wearing hoods, like ghosts. They were wearing traditional Azul costumes and walking slowly on the street, like two ordinary citizens, blending into the prosperity of the city.

They had been gone for so long, sixty years had passed since they set out. They had been in Naggaroth for nearly fifty years, and with the time they had spent in Elshin Arwen before that, time had made them strangers. No one had recognized Bel-Ahor in Lothern, and no one had recognized Eltharion in Tor Yvresse.

As they walked, they stopped and their eyes were attracted by a stall. After looking at each other, they moved closer.

The stall owner took a look at the brothers. Although they were dressed very ordinary, they could not hide their nobleness. He could feel that Eltharion should be an officer, and his rank was not low. You know, in the military system of Asur, officers are usually nobles.

Bell-Ahol was more like a high-ranking manager. He stood there, his eyes sweeping across the stall with a sense of scrutiny. Although the stall owner had never seen this person before, he could feel that the person in front of him was definitely not an ordinary person.

"Gentlemen, this is an ornament from Elsing Alvin." The stall owner picked up the ornament closest to him and hurriedly served, with a hint of mystery in his tone, "Our cousin's ornaments have just arrived."

Bel-Ahor nodded, his eyes falling on the ornament in the stall owner's hand. After a moment, he looked at the other ornaments on the stall. He was sure that the ornament in the stall owner's hand was indeed from Athel Loren, but it was not the work of Asrai, but the work of the Lizardman.

As for the other ornaments on the stall, just take a look, they are all imitations. The most valuable ornament in the entire stall is the one in the stall owner's hand.

Without buying anything, the brothers stopped only because the stall sold trinkets from Elsing Alvin, and they walked along the marble paved avenue that led to a wide amphitheater.

When he arrived outside the theater, Eltharion stopped. He could hear the sound of performances coming from inside, and the sound made him unconsciously fall into memories. He remembered that he had watched a play about the eighth Phoenix King, "The Singer" Addis, here. His mother loved this theater very much, and whenever his father was free, he would come here with his mother to enjoy a moment of peace and beauty.

By the way, the first time he met Belloda was in this theater, and the second time...

But he didn't think his father and mother would appear in the theater at this moment. His parents had more important things to deal with now, which was why he and Bel-Ehor appeared in Tal Yvresse.

He shook his head at Bel-El-Hol, who was looking at him, and then stood there quietly, listening to the sounds of the performance coming from the theater. In his mind, there emerged a picture of the actors striding across the stage and reciting their lines in a rhythmic manner. Those sounds and pictures intertwined, as if taking him back to the past.

To be honest, he once hated the theater, hated the play. He hated the theater of Tor Yvresse, and he hated the theater of Naggarond. His life was full of cruel joy, and he got more pleasure from the art of death than anything else. But now he no longer thinks so.

He began to agree with Dacus's philosophical theories.

Revelry is necessary for elves, indulging in food, indulging in drinks and alcohol, succumbing to the urge of pleasure, and in the name of festivals, defying all boundaries of etiquette and satisfying dark desires.

The inner emotions of the elves must be released, and what the rulers need to do is to draw a line and prevent the people from crossing this line, rather than simply indulging or suppressing them.

After leaving the amphitheater, the brothers walked towards the city center. In the center of Tor Yvresse stood a tall spire, which was their destination.

The road was bustling with people. Tor Yvresse was now in its heyday, even more prosperous than before Eltharion left. There were many houses on both sides of the street that he had never seen before, obviously used to accommodate the increasing number of residents.

He thought that this was because the Kingdom of Yvresse was close to Elsin Arwen and because it was located between the Kingdom of Itain and the Kingdom of Cosqui. Perhaps it was also due to some political reasons? Trade with cousins ​​allowed Tal Yvresse to develop further, and the city was more prosperous than he remembered.

The streets were lined with shops and stalls filled with goods from all over Ulthuan. The vendors shouted their wares to attract passers-by. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread, roasted meat, and spices from far away.

"This city is more prosperous than I thought." Bel-Ahol's gaze swept across the streets, a hint of emotion flashing in his eyes.

"Yes, Tor Yvresse has never let me down." Eltharion nodded, his eyes fixed on the tall tower in the distance.

Soon, the Shengshi brothers walked into Xinghe Street. This street was like a flowing magic river, flashing with strange light even in the daytime. The intersection of magic and nature filled the entire street with an indescribable mysterious atmosphere. The magic flames hovering above the street danced with the invisible melody, like living spirits, cutting through the sky with the accompaniment of flutes and harps, making the day brighter.

The air was filled with the aroma of honey wine. At this moment, the Asur lost their former solemnity and majesty, replaced by a grand carnival. Hundreds of Asur poured into this miracle land, wearing colorful robes, gold threads, silver patterns, and gemstone-inlaid ornaments that sparkled under the reflection of magic. Their laughter, singing, and noise intertwined together, forming a joyful movement belonging to Tar Yvresse.

In the middle of the street, fire dancers were performing an ancient ritual dance, orange and golden flames tumbling and leaping as they waved their hands. Mages cast magic on the side, shaping the flames into the images of dragons, eagles, and spear warriors, as if recreating the glory of Aenarion's era.

The dancers spun and leaped among the flames, their bodies so light that they seemed to have broken free from the constraints of the earth. Their robes fluttered in the wind like soaring birds of prey. Every dance step told the glory and war that this land once had.

Eltharion and Bel-Ahor walked through the crowd, feeling the bodies crowding in from all directions, shoulders and arms colliding from time to time. Eltharion, holding his hand on the hilt of the fang sword, couldn't help but miss his armor. The heavy but reassuring feeling of restraint was far more accustomed to him than this disorderly collision.

However, his equipment and other items brought back from Naggaroth left first under the escort of the sailors. Perhaps, at this moment, his equipment has already arrived at the watchtower first? Now, all he can rely on is a relatively flexible body and a pair of sharp eyes.

The latest novel is published first on Liu9shuba!

The fire dancers' performance came to an end, and another group of artists took their place. The style of these performers was completely different from the previous ones. They did not wear complicated and gorgeous costumes, but were bare-chested, smeared with various symbolic oil paints, and their movements were wild and unrestrained, full of a primitive rhythm, revealing the blood and wildness of warriors.

Eltharion stared at them, his heart slightly shocked. They didn't look like the Asur of Ulthuan, but more like the war dancers of Athel Loren?

These dancers leaped in the firelight, wielding swords and spears, with light but precise steps. Every leap and every turn was a display of fighting skills. They seemed to be recreating ancient battles with dance, allowing onlookers to glimpse the flames of war and heroic spirits that have been lost in the years.

A war dancer flitted through the crowd, laughing and piercing, as she made her way through the revelers and held out her hand to Eltharion.

Instantly, Eltharion's muscles tensed up, and his warrior instinct made him attack the moment the opponent was about to touch him, firmly grasping the opponent's wrist. At the same time, the opponent also grasped his wrist, and their eyes met, and the surrounding noise seemed to recede a little at this moment.

After a moment, both parties let go of each other at the same time.

Eltharion was stunned. He recognized the other person.

This was no ordinary war dancer, but a shadow dancer, a priest of Loik.

But what surprised him even more was that the other person was not Asrai, but Ai Niel. A memory flashed through his mind, he had seen this person in the storm area of ​​Lauren Loren.

"You're back?" The paint on the Shadow Dancer's face floated, outlining a smile.

"I'm back." Eltharion nodded. "Why are you here?"

"Enjoy the festival first." The Shadow Dancer's smile deepened, but she did not answer. Instead, she spoke meaningfully. She nodded slightly to Bel-Ahor, then turned around and disappeared in the crowd, as if she had never existed.

Eltharion did not stop, and continued to push forward through the crowd. The streets were surging with people, and the heat waves and magical flames exploded overhead. Deafening cheers beat like a tide in the heart of the city. White and golden light swirled in the air, and the singing of bards floated between the towering buildings, interweaving with flutes and strings to form an endless melody.

"I love watching them dance, I always do. It gives me hope." Bel-Ahore spoke slowly, with a long-lost sense of ease in his tone.

"Me too." Isharion nodded slightly, his eyes still on the dancer in the center of the crowd.

He did not stop, and continued to walk deeper into the crowd. The revelers around him were already immersed in the carnival, naked men and women dancing around the fire, their bodies covered with paintings, like a flowing scroll under the magic light. Arms stretched out from the side, with either curiosity or teasing intentions, but he just calmly avoided them and did not respond to these silent invitations.

The deeper he went, the higher the rhythm of the music became. The drum beats were rapid and powerful, as if driving everyone's heartbeat to resonate with it. At a street corner, the bard's low chant echoed in the air, and the intermittent verses were like ripples falling on the water, arousing people's resonance. Wherever he looked, many elves had tears in their eyes, but there was no sadness in those tears, only hope, only the desire for a new life, and only the promise of the future.

"Thanks Loic... Ah, we finally got out." Bel-Ahor finally squeezed out of the crowd, took a deep breath, and then smiled bitterly. He rubbed his messy hair and looked back at Issarion, only to find that the latter was still standing there, looking up quietly.

He sighed and shook his head, he knew how Eltharion felt, he had the same feeling, but luckily, there was no one at home before, but now, he had to face it.

There was no one at home. It wasn't that there was no one at home, but his family was here now, which was why he and Eltharion returned to Ulthuan and appeared in Tor Yvresse.

"Let's go."

Bel-Ahor did not urge him, but waited quietly until Eltharion came to his senses.

"Don't we need to change our clothes?" Bel-Ahol asked after walking a few steps.

"You're right." Eltharion stopped, thought for a moment, and then nodded. He looked around and finally pointed to the direction of another street. "Over there, should it be?"

Galaxy Street leads to a huge square or ancient city, which is a recreation of the ancient city of Ulthuan that has sunk to the bottom of the sea.

No elf remembers the name of the city, but it is said that when the sky is clear and the sea is calm, its remains can be seen on the bottom of the water near the coast of Terenloc, just as Elsin Arwen's castle sank into the Sea of ​​Claws. Occasionally, humans moving nearby can also see a vague outline.

This replica of the ancient city is entirely carved from blue and turquoise stone, and each brick and stone has been carefully polished, making the entire building look like a coral reef that has grown naturally from the rocky ground of Tar Yvresse. Its structure is complex, like a huge maze, but no matter where the audience stands, their sight will not be blocked, and they can always perfectly enjoy the performance on the central stage.

This is one of the landmarks of Tor Yvresse, a palace where art and tradition blend together, where elves sing the history and recreate the legend.

Nobles and commoners are now gathering in the staggered auditoriums. Regardless of their social status, they can all enjoy the same cultural feast and watch the wonderful performances performed by dancers and theater troupes on the open-air stage in the center of the ancient city.

Although a grand drama is being staged in this ancient city, Brothers’ destination is not here.

It is the building next to the theater, which is the most important landmark of Tor Yvresse - the Watchtower, or the Yvresse Spire. (Total War Landmark)

The Watchtower is the largest building in the city, where the guardian of Tor Yvresse, the ruler of the city, resides.

The tower is carved from the purest blue marble, and every inch of its surface seems to be gently touched by magic, with faint ripples like the light on the sea. In the sun, it looks like a fragment of the sky of Ulthuan, shining against the distant ocean. When night falls, the tower turns into a shining beacon, emitting a soft and mysterious glow, guiding the returning ships.

The tower towered far above any of the surrounding buildings, even taller than the tower palaces on the nine hills, towering over the city. It reached into the sky, and the top was surrounded by a constant surge of magical light. It was like an invisible bond, one of the most important nodes that kept Ulthuan afloat, and it firmly connected Ulthuan with the spirit network of Elshin Arwen.

Additionally, the Tower maintains magical order in eastern Ulthuan, and is home to the waystone system throughout the land.

The structure of the tower is exquisite, smooth and upright, but unfortunately, there are no windows, as if the entire tower is enclosed in an invisible barrier.

There were windows, of course, but at the very top of the tower there was a protruding balcony that provided an excellent view. Standing there, one could overlook the entire Tower Iris, enjoy the performances in the ancient city square, and gaze out into the sky, seeing the jagged peaks of the craters and the endless vast sea in the distance.

This tower is the most important building in the Kingdom of Iris, without a doubt. The tower located in the center of the flag is this tower.

"Young Master?" The guardian Aesop Tamaha who was standing at the side door looked at Issarion and asked in a somewhat uncertain tone. After asking, he also glanced at his companion. However, he did not get any useful information from his companion's face or mouth, because his companion was in the same state as him.

The reason why the Guardians of Athos Tamaha are called this and not the Guardians of the Spire of Tor Yvresse is because...

Aesop Tamaha is a place name located in the northeast of Tor Yvresse. It is a satellite city of Tor Yvresse, the ancestral home and fiefdom of Eltharion's family, and Eltharion's other home.

Just like the Komnenos family's fiefdom was located in Asia Minor, specifically in Paphlagonia, on the northern coast of present-day Turkey. This fiefdom was awarded to Manuel, the ancestor of the Komnenos family, by the unknown ophthalmologist Basil II.

The first Eastern Roman to brag about his father recorded that his father grew up in a military camp in Asia Minor. In CK3, Alexios' starting position is in Boukellarion, which is correct.

In addition, the fiefdom of the Ducas family was also there, which meant that the Komnenos family and the Ducas family were neighbors.

However, after he became an adult, he learned about Romanos IV, the Battle of Manzikert, and the Seljuks. He had a home but couldn't go back...

Athos Tamah the Guardian is the father of Eltharion and the personal guard of Morarion. The reason why he is called this instead of Athos Tamah the Oathbreaker is because Gollum has not come yet...

Morarion died gloriously in the battle of Gollum Destroy Athotamaha, but his guards were not completely wiped out. Some defenders were panicked by the huge Waaagh! and fled into the forest, leaving their homes to fate.

Although the defenders quickly regained their courage and continued to harass the goblin forces as they advanced towards Tor Yvresse, they continued to blame themselves for Morarion's death. From then on, they called themselves the Oathbreakers and fought around Eltharion, hoping to assuage their father's guilt by serving his son.

So...but...

"Yes, I'm back!" Eltharion responded. He nodded and whispered, "I'm back." (End of this chapter)