The Ill Fated Peregrination of the Morenthall Expedition

Eager to expand their knowledge of the new world before them, and equally determined to repair some of the damage done by her predecessors, a young but promising scholar from the University of the Lighted Way managed to secure funding for a dangerous expedition into the Gaul Do Shah Wastes to find and explore the ruins of the decimated Grove of Shah, an elven holy site said to have been the seat of the goddess's power in hopes of recovering lost knowledge and uncovering a way to re-establish communication with the elves that remain.

After years of research and collecting records from archives and libraries from all over the Bechtlarite empire, Airtam Morenthall stumbled across a jumbled puzzle that painted a picture of a place of power once held dear by the Gaul Do Shah elves, the place where the Spirit Tree, the living embodiment of all elven immortality, had taken root following the Primordial March and the gods seeding the world. It was here that Shah presided over her people in an indirect form, providing her power through the tree as a conduit and granting them longevity. It was this symbiosis that grabbed Airtam's attention, the direct tie to another living portion of the planet offering a conduit to divine power and through this, life. She posited the question that, if this were possible through the goddess, Shah, could this and perhaps even other fragments of divine power still exist in the world...and more importantly, if they did, could they be manipulated and used to heal their world even in the absence of the gods? She gathered her findings and her thesis and brought it before the The University of the Lighted Way headmaster and faculty, requesting the funds and staff needed to implement an expedition into the hostile domain of the elves in search of proof that this power still existed. While there was a great deal of debate, especially since the realms of the Gaul Do Shah were now a desolate ruin and the inhabitants territorial and violent, there were also a majority that were curious and saw the political and even philanthropic benefits of this should the young woman succeed. Thus far, the only news of the The Ruins of Shah came from The Ventrytes who offered little more than hearsay and rumors, and their own aerial observations which showed very little beyond scant surface activity and half buried ruins. In the end, the debate was settled by a vote and with a narrow margin, the endeavor was approved. Airtam and her entourage were to be flown out to Olive Branch by airship and travel overland from there with a small contingent of fellow researchers and a Wraith Guard escort of twenty troops. All in all, thirty six people were assigned to the trip.

The flight and initial journey were uneventful, though Airtam's later writings about it would detail her nervous excitement and apprehension concerning the military escort presenting too antagonistic an appearance for the mission she had planned. The overland journey took them across the expanse of the Eastern Wastes, and deep though Ventryte territory, who were welcoming and curious as they passed, several even offering their services as guides and additional hands. Three Ventryte scouts were hired along the way.

The edge of the Gaul Do Shah Wastes is a territory few tread, and even then, it is a thing done quietly and respectfully, for the elves are not known to be merciful. Every day into that place brought darker skies, longer nights, and less and less chance of help coming should anything happen. By Airtam's calculations, the journey to the Grove should have taken no more than seven or eight days, but by the third day, people began to vanish from the group. The first to go were five of the Wraith Guard escorts, with no signs of a struggle and no bodies to be found. This trend became worse as the next day, those numbers doubled, and then continued. When the escorts were gone, and only the research team remained, the Ventryte scouts abandoned the expedition, telling the remaining members that they would do well to follow their lead. Airtam was determined, however, and refused to give up. She and five of the researchers decided to carry on despite the obvious danger. The following days were difficult, and they were openly watched from that point on, the Gauldowhynna staying a distance away and following them, but making no moves against them until they reached the site where the Grove once stood.

In their hurry they did not notice the elves circling around them as they crossed into the ruins of the Grove, and when they were set upon by them, there was little they could do to defend against it. The researchers were slain in a brutal attack that left Airtam herself bloodied and near death in the sands outside the Grove. When she came to, days later and near death, she found an elven woman sitting there with her, staring at her in silence. The scholar was to weak to speak in anything but a single whispered word or two, but she rallied her strength and managed to beg for water. The elf seemed shocked and upset by the request, and began to rock back and forth, crying inconsolably. Airtam slipped back into unconsciousness once more.

When she woke the second time, her wounds were bound in ragged strips of her own clothing and the elf woman was carrying her on her back, deeper into the Wastes. Before she could speak, a flask was offered and her unlikely savior was pointing at something in the distance. She peered out into the gloom as saw a shimmering figure walking towards them slowly, much to her surprise. The elf woman held a finger to her lips and dropped down in hiding, waiting for the traveler to approach them, a long, wicked looking knife made of bone in her hand. Airtam was terrified, but far too weak to do anything but submit. As the woman came fully into view, it became apparent that she was asleep and glowing with a faint blue aura. Airtam had heard stories of another similar account, but before she could say anything, the individual turned towards them and spoke the third prophecy. Once her utterance was complete, her eyes opened and she let out a loud and pitiful wail at the sky, and then quickly fell to dust and was lost to the breeze. The two women say there in stunned silence for a moment, confused, until the Gauldowhynna lunged at Airtam with her knife, pinning the scholar to the sand by her throat wide eyed and wild and demanded, speaking for the first time, to know what had just happened. In her writings, Airtam impressed upon the reader that the elven woman's voice struck her with it's melodic beauty despite the situation and the terror she felt. She could only shake her head, and hope the elf would let her live. They stayed like that for minutes while her life hung in the balance until her aggressor finally seemed to come to a decision and stood up, offering a hand. Airtam, while even more confused than before, accepted it and stood. The elf tapped herself on the temple and said only,

" Ioelena Lurie" , and then pointed at the scholar. Airtam nodded and offered her own name in return. Ioelena motioned for her to follow and the two began to make their way across the desert.

The journey went for days that seemed endless to Airtam, but Ioelena provided both food and water every day in silence, and would become agitated at any attempt to communicate. Airtam recorded in her journals that the elven woman would never sleep, but instead would seem to meditate in the evenings and softly weep to herself until dawn, as though in the throes of some unseen tragedy that repeated in her mind, night after night. As her health returned, the scholar became more aware of her surroundings, and realized that she was being led to the place she had set out to go in the first place, the Grove of Shah.

The Grove was little more than a ruined pile of stone and wood now, the rotten remains of trees and brush now a decomposing pile of debris strewn among the remnants of what must have been a massive temple complex. Ioelena cautiously picked her way through, ever silent and attentive, narrowly avoiding groups of her kin. Airtam marvelled over the state of the elven people, their bodies covered in scars and odd symbols, hair and clothes in varying states of disarray, and some even boasting sharpened teeth. Gone were the days of breathtaking beauty and wonder, replaced with a mockery of what was, fine silks replaced with questionable leathers, and the elegant weapons of old exchanged for twisted bone shaped into wicked designs. She also made note that Ioelena seemed to be avoiding them intentionally and suspected that this was more than just for her sake, and this suspicion was reinforced when a small group of elven hunters discovered them as they crossed into the center of the Grove. The trio spotted them as Airtam stumbled on the uneven terrain and cried out absently. Like a blur all three slipped into the sands at their feet and vanished. Ioelena snarled and spat, drawing out her own pair of bone knives and standing over the terrified Bechtlarite. The attackers burst from the sand enraged and feral, attacking with preternatural grace and speed, but at each turn they were matched in their savagery by Ioelena, who, as Airtam would go on to describe,

The encounter took merely moments, but when it was over, the three lay dead and Airtam unharmed. Ioelena helped the woman up with a slight grunt and nervously carried on, leading her towards a large hole in the ground at the center of the Grove. Airtam could tell her guide and protector was wounded, as she favored one leg, but every attempt to speak or offer aid was met with a sharp look or an irritated swat of the hand. The hole before them, was a wide, scarred crater in the ground, and as they neared the edge, she realized it was filled with skeletal remains, the ground beneath them stained black and the air within a pungent and nearly overwhelming stench of old death. Ioelena made her way down and, with a severe expression on her face, looked about for several moments before she was content that no one was watching. She then stood before Airtam, and softened, placing a gentle hand on the woman's cheek as crystalline tears began to flow down her cheeks, leaving trails of pristine white skin as they passed along the dust and grime that hid the woman's beauty beneath. In a hushed whisper, she said,

She then turned and removed a few armloads of bone from the pile at her feet revealing a concealed hollow beneath, and taking Airtam by the hand, she stepped inside. The space within was small and cramped, but lit by a single candle that illuminated a small form on the floor. sleeping in a bundle of old cloth and rags. In a lilting, musical voice, Ioelena called out in her native tongue, and the figure stirred, rolling over to reveal a small, albino halfling child. The young boy rubbed his eyes and looked up at the two in fear, but in his eyes was a fierce defiance. He scrambled back into the the dark and grabbed a large cookpot and a knife, and, placing the pot upon his head like an awkward, oversized helmet, he brandished the old blade before him as menacingly as a diminutive child could. Ioelena began to quietly weep once more, collapsing on the ground and gripping her own wounded leg. The child hissed and growled but remained where he was. Airtam was shocked. The news of the halfling genocide had reached the ears of the Empire years ago, this young boy may well have been the last of his kind, and as she took in the scene, she could not help but remember the words of the Somnambulist and wonder at their significance. She found herself with a renewed purpose, one beyond academia, and got to her feet. She moved first to Ioelena's side and pushed away her hands as she resisted, but was too weak to keep even the scholar at bay. Airtam fell back on her training and cleaned and bandaged the wound and then turned to the child, holding out a small bit of food she had left in her pack. After some quiet deliberation, the child finally over come with both hunger and curiosity, sheathed the knife in his belt and came forward, snatching the food and darting back into the shadows to devour it hungrily. Ioelena moved closer, and quietly began to speak,

Airtam, shocked at hearing the elf speak this much, merely nodded. She knew the child could not be brought back to Armuun, as he would end up a point of curiosity to be passed between scientists and politicians alike, and to remain here would only further the damage done to the child's mind and eventually lead to his death at the hands of the other elves. The trio spent the next three days in the hollow beneath the bones of the halfling genocide as Ioelena recovered and the two spoke in whispers, working out a plan. To the south, many miles away at the edge of the Ventryte lands was a small boom town built upon some ruins that were found there. They would take the boy there and hide him, while Airtam would return with her findings to the University, excluding a great deal of what she found in her reports, but utilizing the resources there to dig deeper into the Somnambuli and the relevance of what was happening with them.

The journey south was one the used hidden paths and lost roads no longer walked by man nor elf, and thanks to the attentions and deadly grace of Ioelena, they made it to the town of Abattoir without serious incident. It was there the women parted ways, tearfully as friends, as they had grown very close along that journey, but those days are among the very few that Airtam kept out of her journals, often saying that the love and friendship that developed along that path was one for her and Ioelena alone. They parted ways and Airtam made her way back to the University in Armuun, and made her report, excluding the information about Ioelena and the boy, and immediately threw herself into researching the Somnambuli.