[hr][center][color=A25833][b][h2]A F A R E N E[/h2][/b][/color][/center][hr]
A forsaken march— she had seen it before. She thought she would never see it again.

[color=A25833]“Mi glywaf dyner lais yn galw arnaf i.”[/color] Afarene Taranau muttered the phrase under her breath, though it was not a gentle breeze that was calling her but the exact opposite. It was a callous storm that was reaching out for not only her soul but also everyone else’s.

[b]“Mayhaps we could learn something from these creatures? Could we not perhaps learn from the fallen?”[/b]

Afarene’s eyes moved toward the direction of the words— to the human who seemed to be making the gesture of the dead and damned. Whilst she was not properly acquainted with those she traveled with, for her perspective it was not challenging to make a deduction based on the subtext of the words this human chose to speak. The idea of studying the dead was something that the elves of New Anur were very vocal about and in Afarene’s cultural and spiritual education as an adolescent there had been many lessons about leaving the dead be or descending into the madness of hubris. It was through that education and her experiences in the last one-hundred and sixty-four years of life that she agreed that mistakes would be avoided if all species, and not just her people, left things alone that didn’t need to be stirred in the first place. It was with those thoughts and recollections that the red-haired gray elf decided to make a matter-of-fact comment from beneath the cowl of her cloak. 

[color=A25833]“Have they not been forsaken enough?”[/color]

Her question was innocuous enough, but more level-headed comments had inspired conflict through her past. Her eyes moved back toward the field as she took a light breath— trying to make sense from a ranger’s perspective about how to approach the daunting and seemingly endless war she was entering— and this was just the first real situation of it following the speech their “leader” had announced only days prior.

[hr][center][b][h2]O L I V A S T E R[/h2][/b][/center][hr]
[b]”Forsaken?”[/b] 

Olivaster’s words were soft yet spoken with a certain condescension. He had always despised elves. From one side of the country to the other they were all the same. Life is precious. Let things lay as they may. Do not seek answers where things are better left undisturbed. It was all very innocent, very plebeian. As if to suggest that there was no price worth paying to learn from the mysteries of the world. Olivaster believed he knew this to be false. Regardless of the particular piece of knowledge, there was always a price worth paying. The only negotiable instrument was how much each particular piece was worth. 

Sweeping his hand across the field of decades old fallen soldiers as well as the writhing remains of the undying Olivaster spoke boldly, [B]“You would wade blindly into the unknown, rather than invoke the name of gods you dare not speak to educate us before we pass? You speak of them as forsaken, yet you insult them by aiding in the neglect of their duties. You insult them by not allowing them to protect and serve as they have sworn to do.”[/B]

The wizard whose appearance while doing service to his true power had beguiled his real age, began to walk forward. His footsteps were precise. He purposefully avoided damaging any of the skeletons to the best of his ability. But in a field consumed by the fallen it was difficult to avoid crushing at least a hand. In these instances, he merely avoided the more important parts of the skeletons. His face showed little fear if any. For what was there to fear? The undying, nailed to their crosses in a sadistic crucifixion? No, for even when the undying seemed to flail towards his passing robes, Olivaster did not hasten his step. His eyes carried through the masses searching through the faces of those he passed before turning around to face the gathered party once more. 

[b]”Do you believe that these men would care not to rest one last time knowing they were able to fulfill their duties where in the past they have failed? Are you so naive as to believe even the undying are too uncivilized to answer just one question?”[/b]

[hr][center][color=A25833][b][h2]A F A R E N E[/h2][/b][/color][/center][hr]
[color=A25833][i]Ffwl Anwybodus.[/i][/color]

She should’ve known a [i]human[/i] magi would think as such. Even with all of the wisdom that came from the Fall of Aith Anur and New Anur, his ideology continued to exist. The warnings were irrelevant to the humans that had studied magic and they were all so eager to continue on the path that nearly eradicated her people— the foolish ignorance of man’s hubris was infuriating. However, Afarene did not show abundance of emotion as she took a light breath whilst focusing on the situation at hand. There were, after all, more imperative things to focus on then argue with a human who believed that researching the forsaken would lead to victory and not utter total loss. The elves who advised the Duchess were certain to have warned her and set principles down that their soldiers would have to abide by; or so Afarene hoped.

[color=A25833]“The only naïve one is you, human. You will learn if you are allowed to cross the line and study them. I bid you luck on your venture, though I know what will come of it.”[/color]

Afarene didn’t bother to stick around for his reply as she moved forward, closer to the thick of things— ready to fire an arrow as any ranger would.