The great Serin histories tell of the fall of Lord Rodyn and his murder
of Queen Victoria, but little is written of what came before Rodyn's love
led to his corruption. For a great many years, Lord Rodyn served as an
inspiration for Valourians. When not on campaign, he would walk the streets
of his home, settling disputes and driving out criminals. Without him, the
famous central hub of the city would not exist.
Among those who found themselves on the side of Rodyn when the darkness in
his heart came to light was the noble line of Illistarre, led at the time by
Duchess Ylomira Illistarre. Somewhat taken with Rodyn herself, she swore
that his actions had been forced - that the horrors he had seen upon the
battlefield had driven him to a rage. She insisted that his heart could be
returned to the light. So she pronounced to a bereaved Sarich, who
responded by casting her and her entire line out from the Great City.
The Illistarres settled in the city of Seringale and found companionship
with the elves of the Sylvan Vale. Years later, when Rodyn returned to form
the Justice Cabal, Ylomira begged him to turn aside from his dark path once
more and seek forgiveness. Little could she have guessed that the man who
had once been a bastion of hope and safety so hated the name of his brother
that he would strike down his old friend. But so it was, and the Illistarre
line was carried forward by Ylomira's niece, Olsemmie.
Olsemmie had been only a child during Rodyn's betrayal, so she carried no
space for forgiveness of her aunt's murder. She rebelled against the reign
of the Justice and the Illistarres were exiled from Seringale, marking their
second such rejection in as many decades. Timaran proved to be a safer city
in which to practice her rebellion against the Justice. This vein of
rebellion still runs strong in the Illistarre line today.
During the Dragon Wars, old grudges seemed to be forgotton and Llyloe
Illistarre, barely twenty years of age at the time, managed to relocate the
family back to Seringale. His eyes laid on Valour as the final Bastion, as
the rightful place of Illistarre, but Queen Victoria's throne still stood
vacant and their alliance in that conflict still too raw a wound.
To the current day, the last in the line of Illistarre still reside in the
City of Seringale, waiting for the day they might reclaim their rightful
place beneath the banner of the Knights.
Ilromie and Injustice
Ilromie Illistarre set out from her family's manor in the City of
Seringale at the young age of seventeen, having just finished reading the
diary of her many times great grandmother, Olsemmie. The clean streets of
the city, filled with smiling adventurers and hungry beggars suddenly took
on a more sinister look.
She walked past the park and the fountain up to North Square, where a
Justice of the Law had set up a breaking wheel. The man upon it had his
arms tied off and with each spin they were pulled further and further from
his central body. Certainly this man had done something terrible to receive
such a fate? As if hearing her thoughts, the man caught his breath long
enough to yell 'I tried to pay my fine! Your executioner wouldn't take my
go--! '
The Justice didn't even flinch at the sound from the man's joints at that
turn, but Ilromie felt her stomach turning. 'You shouldn't have broken the
Law in the first place. '
The executioner was already reaching to turn the wheel again, so she turned
east to put the scene behind her. How have we lived for so long in this
oppression? Even away from the square, she heard the man's dying yell. How
had she been so blind to it before? Olsemmie's journal had opened her eyes
and she hefted her backpack to check on its comforting weight and was not
reassured. Stopping outside the Invoker Guild, she dropped her bag to the
ground - the cord hung loose. Stolen. Probably while she was distracted by
the injustice at North Square. The purse her father had given her not three
hours earlier was also missing, along with only one of a set of earrings
given to her by a friend.
Angry, and still confused by the graphic confirmation of her ancestor's
warning, Ilromie stormed past Kanizares and into the training chambers
beyond. Kanizares, being familiar with an invoker's need to vent in a safe
space, stepped well aside.
For many years after that, Ilromie dedicated herself to the training of her
magic, letting the power flow through her with such ferocity that she could
forget her inability to change the laws of her city. That ended when the
guild ran out of new things to teach her. Mastery of the spells came easily
to Ilromie and without new castings to learn, the chore no longer kept her
satisfied. Like her Illistarre ancestors, she turned her thoughts to
Valour. The last few generations had lived peacefully in Seringale, and
eager for more money to fund their wars, the Knights were selling noble
titles to any who could scrape together the gold. She managed to collect the
sum with ease.
But a purchased title would not be the Illistarre way. They were true
nobility, among high pedigree, if the Castle would acknowledge their claim.
Even in Exile, they had kept perfect records of their lineage - an easy task
since families did not often raise more than one child in a generation.
Confident that she could not be denied on her status of wealth alone,
Ilromie turned her magic focus to restraint to consider the problem of
overcoming the history of her name.
Bringing the Title Home
It had been a good day and Ilromie yet carried a glow about her. When
she returned to her family home in Seringale, everything seemed
disconcertingly normal, as if the issuance of their nobility should have had
some practical effect. Instead, her father sat puffing on his same old
pipe, the smoke making familiar shapes in the late afternoon sun while her
mother carefully dropped fluids from a dropper into a beaker. Just like any
other day.
"I've applied to the Consortium." Ilromie announced and received only a
small grunt from her father.
"They are not what they once were." Her mother looked up from the alchemy
set. "Not like the Heralds of old."
"Some of them are Heralds yet, mother." This didn't seem to sway her, but
Ilromie knew when a fight was futile against her mother. The older
Illistarre had that crease between her eyes that was a telltale sign of
digging in her heels, so Ilromie set about getting some dinner for them.
Roast duck and seed cake from the Vale did not create the feast she had
hoped for to support her annoucement, but at least there was ice wine. She
poured and set the table, drawing her parents' attention again.
"I spoke with Executor Trovo today-" she began, but paused at her mother's
weary sigh.
"In fact, it is past time you put aside such childish aspirations and pursue
a worthy field of study, Ilromie."
One of the duck bones snapped in Ilromie's hand. "In true fact, he restored
our ancient titles. Duchess." She looked at her father and raised her
glass of wine. "Duke."
"Titles are bought and sold freely now, it is likely his 'acknowledgment' is
nothing more than a ploy for profit. You embarrass yourself carrying such
pride around. Our name will be one among a long list of commoners who could
scrape the coin together."
"We are not forgotten." She decided not to mention the inquiry by a Justice
over the records associated with the name Illistarre. Her mother would only
chide her further for causing trouble and suggest she find a less
troublesome 'field of study. '
"What shall you do in the Convention?"
"Consortium. They are scholars, I wil-"
"Be a student for your life? I had hoped for better from you, Romie-Duchess,
oh do forgive me. Duchess" Her mother dipped her head mockingly in
Ilromie's direction.
Ilromie banged her glass on the table, spilling a few precious drops. "They
are more than students, they are historians and mystics as well. Any one of
their works is more important than a tastier variation on the gyvel potion."
She thrust her hand at the alchmey set up, which chose that moment to exude
a small cloud of sweet smoke.
While the Illistarre women worked themselves up into a heated argument,
Ilromie's father poured himself a fresh cup of wine and lit a cigar. By the
time he had turned it into ash, Ilromie had stormed out of their house with
a promise to "Show them."
"I for one, am quite interested in what she has to prove." He commented,
careful to keep his voice level. It still earned him a dark glare from his
wife, who retreated without further comment, leaving him to clear the table.
A Pillarific Predicament
Ilromie sat amidst a pile of unfinished scrolls with her mother's voice
ringing in her ear. Was she to be a student for her entire life? She had
been named a Lore Keeper of the Heralds, but the quill had run dry. There
were half completed poems, scribbled notes from adventures, and a wilting
pages of notes regarding the descent of a once-great immortal of Justice,
but none were the work that would make her name.
Another voice joined the chiding of her mother's, this one the Grand
Mistress of Magic from the High Tower of Sorcery. "You lack focus. Power
is not sufficient to succeed." At the time, she had dismissed those words
as pure insult, but now the words came back to her with the stinging ring of
truth.
Each of the nine pillars she held in her mind, considering what a life of
study for each would mean for her and her legacy. Fundamentals seemed too
simple for a mage of her nature, but perhaps it would do her good to focus
on the basics again? Religous studies were certainly not her strength - the
Illistarres had never been ones to keep faith in those above. Arcane suited
her, but was she *too* suited for it? The sun had set a dozen times while
she considered.
Would Warfare suit her? She had participated in her fair share of battles,
but could they be considered war? Did she have a grasp of the dynamics of
cabal warfare or was she too biased? More importantly, did she want to
share a pillar with the the loudest bard in Serin? No. Another day passed
as she wore a new groove into the new chairs in the Beer Garden.
"It would be tragedy to never decide." She muttered, considering the dour
task of documenting the sad events of her lifetime. Yet, she did find
herself drawn to the task of creating memorials of those who had fallen,
even those whom she despised in life.
The path started to emerge. History was a clear path - how else could she
ensure that the Illistarre name would outlast the last of them? With the
pile of writings about her, Literature seemed another natural choice. Why
had it taken a week of consideration? There was yet one more to decide.
In the end, she went with physical to share her passion for exploration to
the very edges of Serin and ensure that lore beyond her family name would be
retained as well.
With her choices made, a calm settled on Ilromie's shoulders. Her path was
set - now there was nothing left to do but to walk it to its end.
Illistarre Manor
Ilromie poured tea into the three small cups set at her tea table while
her mother peered out the large windows towards the north. "In fact, the
Knights do an excellent job of maintaining the stables, and there is hardly
any smell, even outside these walls. Won't you sit, Mother?"
The older Illistarre accepted the cup of tea from her daughter and turned
back to the room. Her husband was relaxing in front of the fireplace as he
packed his pipe. "Does this mean you will be applying for recognition as a
citizen of Valour?"
"I must remain a citizen of Seringale for now, until I have found the source
of corruption within the Justices." Ilromie brought another cup of tea to
her father and touched the bowl of the pipe with her finger, producing a
small flame to light the leaves within. Tendrils of smoke wafted around him
as he stoked the embers with a few puffs.
"That is where you are assigned to study, Romie? Certainly there are more
fruitful-"
"In fact-" Ilromie turned to address her mother with a speed that sent her
tea splashing onto the floor. "It is I who issue the assignments. My name
shall be printed at the top of the next Mystique."
"A child's diversion."
"The matters I cover are of the highest importance to those who truly live
within these realms. There is more than your research-"
Ilromie's rising temper was interrupted by her father, who rose from the
lounge. "Why don't you show us around, Romie? I'd like to see what you
have built here." He collected his cane - a necessary addition to his
wardrobe - and nodded to the west, where their portrait looked over them.
"Of course." She stepped up to take her father's arm, giving him another
base of support as they walked back into the entryway. "You have seen the
tea room and the entrance hall. Up these stairs is my bedroom." She patted
his arm. "We need not climb the stairs. The library is this way." They
walked through and she settled him on the sofa, leaving her mother to peruse
the books upon the shelves.
"What goes here?" Her mother stopped at the empty shelves near the back of
the room.
"That is where I shall place our personal histories." Ilromie smiled.
"Do you think you have earned such inheritance? The set was rendered
incomplete when you lost Olsemmie's journal. It was a vital volume."
"Are you planning another heir, mother?" Ilromie gritted her teeth against
the reminder of how much she had lost on her first day leaving home. "To
whom else will you leave such records?"
The older woman continued to follow the shelves until she saw dark stains on
the writing desk. "Is this blood?"
"It is. As I said, the matters which I research are of great importance.
Some would go to vile lengths to see me silenced." Ilromie placed her hand
on the desk chair and glanced around at the shadows in the corners of the
library, though no drow assassins appeared to solidify her point.
Her mother's eyes started to go dark and she glanced at her husband. "In
fact, it may be necessary. You seem more interested in stirring up trouble
than continuing our family line."
"Everything I have done has been for our family." She hissed.
"It will mean nothing if it ends with you. One day, the Gods will not see
fit to restore your soul to your body. I shall not allow this to be our
last legacy . Come along, Connel, we have work to do." Without pause to
help her husband to his feet, she stalked out of the library.
Ilromie took up that task herself and summoned a small burst of wind to
dismiss the ashes from his pipe bowl. He tucked it into its silk bag and
then back into his jacket. She helped him to the door, but he placed his
hand over the knob when she went to open it. "I'm proud of you, Romie." He
nodded briefly at her then followed his wife out, cane tapping gently with
every other step.
A Dedication Dilemma
Ilromie sat in her library, flipping through Volume 15, Issue 3 of the
Serin Mystique. The first published by her hand, and the second to bear her
words. She stopped partway through the obituaries, after the script shifted
from her own curling calligraphy to the smaller, more deliberate hand of
their new goblin member. "What's one to say of the Warfare Bard?" Valindra
had written and the question, to her, seemed less than rhetorical.
Vellis was rude and difficult. She had turned from a focus on warfare
because it seemed such a man would handle that dedication adequately.
Further, there seemed no way to co-exist with one so rude, yet now she found
herself working aside a demon and a goblin. Times had changed between her
induction and promotion to Polymath.
Leaving the obituary open, she leaned back to consider her options. Much
deliberation had preceded the selection of her pillars when she was a Lore
Keeper, but warfare had followed her regardless. Her choices had been made
with the blindness of youth. With idealism: she used the physical
dedication to justify great and fun adventures, but what strides had she
made? With a flip back through the earlier works in the Mystiques, she saw
little written in such vein by her hand.
Frustrated, she closed both the books and rose quickly from her desk. The
world spun for a brief moment and she checked her hands for the familiar
flash of emerald at finger or wrist. The ring was there, but some weakness
lingered. 'Time for a matching set. ' The dizziness passed and she walked
back to the main room where sunlight was shining through the western window.
As if She had been watching and waiting for the right time to speak, an
immortal voice echoed through her mind, offering assistance in any matter.
'Omniscient.' Ilromie thought (respectfully, just in case), before she
admitted to the Lady Vanisse the conundrum she had faced. It was at once
both reassuring and disappointing to hear that her patron immortal agreed
with her retrospective on earlier decisions.
This time, she would not err as she had before. History was yet her primary
focus, in this pillar she felt empowered to write and record the current
events, but the Physical pillar she traded for Arcane, that she might share
the experience she had learned as a mage. Most importantly, she traded the
Literature pillar for that of Warfare - that which she could not escape. It
was time to face reality as it was, not as she wished it to be.
Visions
The hefty scent of history and ink surrounded Ilromie as she set a copy
of The Serin Mystique, Volume 15, Issue 6 next to the other issues in her
library. A complete set. She ran her fingers across the spines of the
books, skipping past the first volume and choosing the second, filled with
summaries of her explorations with Serra. The book fell open to the summary
of their encounter with Vhrael, once a Justice, now fallen and moldering as
an undead creature himself. They had scribed their observtions, but many
questions were left unanswered. What was Vhrael trying to accomplish? Why
had he been quiet for so long, then quiet again? Was Dogran involved? Or
worse, Solmundi?
She needed tea to think it over. Taking the copy of the book with her, she
crossed to her tea room and settled in on the couch. The fire before her
roared in greeting and when she lifted her gaze from the text, it was all
that she could see.
--- The fire roared around her, around Valour then spreading across the
Forest of Illusion, Middenir, Seringale, until she was viewing all of Serin
from a heaven's height. Smoke billowed, children screamed in pain and
terror.
Portals opened one by one within the burning cities, sending demons pouring
through to add their own chaos. In Seringale, she saw a single beam of
bright light surrounding an armored giant standing against the horde,
blazing sword held up defiantly. The demons swarmed over him, blocking the
light and when he rose, the eyes behind the helm of Justice were dark and
cruel. There was no Savior in the Justice. Even Kedaleam was nowhere to be
seen.
In Valour, the demons swarmed over the Palace, spreading their flame and
vile chaos until the very stone crumbled. The Throne of Queen Victoria
tumbled from its perch right through Ilromie's own manor. A flash of light
burst from its impact and the image of Lumubella, eyes raging in crusade
appeared. She moved swiftly towards the Castle, where the last of the
defenders were falling in its defense.
East of Seringale, by the Rest, a different kind of darkness was brewing,
this one tinged with verdigris. Familiar faces rose in defense of the
Consortium's home, but the paper burned more swiftly than the stone upon
which their home had been rebuilt. From this, the darkness swelled,
obscuring her entire vision of the world. ---
The Mystique slipped off Ilromie's lap and hit the ground with a slap. She
woke from the reverie and reached a shaking hand for the cup of tea that had
been abandoned on the table before her. It was still hot, but her mouth was
dry and stomach crying for food. The passage of time had continued without
her during the vision. A glance at the positions of the moons revealed that
it had been months that she viewed the destruction of Serin in the fire.
Notes piled high upon her doorstep.
With a quick gesture, she snuffed the fire in the fireplace and went to
collect her mail.
Bear Mountain
The bitter winds of Winter slapped against Ilromie's face and melted
flakes into the heat of her hair. Though her bag weighed heavy with
claddaghs, bangles, and ascots, she was walking again the path to the
Unlucky Smuggler. She scanned east as the fighter by her side scanned west.
Her way was fraught with enemies, but as she turned to check the path north,
she instinctively followed her ally towards the Ranger's Guardpost.
They climbed the base of the mountain. The guardian ranger was visible even
from there as bulk on the horizon. A surge of emotion welled deep in her
chest as the familiar shadow brought memories blazing to the front of her
mind. Her sharp elven mind lent them near perfect clarity.
Serra.
Two, maybe three strong pushes with her barrier, attuned firestorm, and the
occasional storm of meteor for the ranger. Same expenditure to reach the
end of the river. She had made the journey enough times when her oldest
friend rested beside Britus. Slate in hand, weeks would pass with Ilromie
seated upon a floe, working on what would become some of her greatest
legacies. When some poem in the Collected Works struck her, she would
recite aloud, and once she felt the familiar warmth of her friend's prayer
upon her.
*It is too much to hope that you would return as before, * *This journey
like any other, to a distant shore? * *For whom else could I trust to
report what they see* *and share what lies of life's last mystery? *
For years, she kept a vigil by her silent friend's side, maintaining the
hope that Kedaleam would guide her back. That Serra was close enough to
hear, to sense that she was not alone. Each time she left, she heated a jug
of tea and summoned a pile of pancakes, that her friend would be nourished
should the stasis of ice fail to sustain. When passing by her friend's home
(which was often, for they were neighbors), she would stop in to blow out
the dust and leave bacon for her owl familiar.
But the pace of the press was pressing on the Polymath. Nearly four decades
had passed and with each day, the spirit within felt colder and more
distant. Even her internal fire, though then unreleased by Valindra's
curse, could do little to combat the looming sense of eternal frozen stasis.
Britus stood by her side, living proof of such opportunity.
The Serin Mystique, Volume 15, Issue 4 published under her supervision. The
last, Ilromie presumed, which would bear Serra's name. Already she began
consideration regarding the memorium section for Issue 5. Just a limrobit
would not do. Cutting the final copy took the Consortium late into the
night. As her animate peers departed to enjoy the satisfaction of good work
completed, Ilromie considered the journey to drop a copy off with Serra.
Hope did not prevail. She retired, already mourning.
The pang of regret for the road not taken brought Ilromie back to the
present. For she had been wrong to abandon hope, and in doing so condemned
her confidante to the very fate she had worked for so long to prevent.
Serra had awoken alone, hungry, and disoriented. The full history had been
plain to read in the Tome of Scholars well after the event. Had she awoken
to find the heat of warm tea, the sweetness of pancakes, and the fruit of
her labors, she might not have been driven to seek guidance from a Warlord.
Ilromie had failed her friend, doomed her to a tragic return to a world
which did not deserve the compassion that was Serra's nature.
Oriented for a moment more to her physical location, she turned her gaze
towards Mount Omedan. Bear Mountain. The subject of failure was applicable
there as well. She and Serra had never succeeded in their climb to the
peak. Of course, Ilromie had seen the view, but only when traveling in a
large, safe band of adventurers. It became a scholarly goal to best the
mountain with only each other to rely upon.
They never succeeded.
Serra's return was marked with a tone of melancholy. She had been changed
by her time in the ice and Ilromie had been changed by her time alone. They
pursued their scholarly works with familiar dedication and stood in tandem
against the rising tide of the demons. Great events unfolded under their
supervision, filling another Mystique, but they did not again face the
curious congregation of bears roaming the mountain's peak. Nor the related
question of what those bears hunted, besides foolish adventurers.
Then Ilromie returned one day to find a final farewell in the hand of the
young knight hopeful outside her manor. Their last meeting had ended with
not even a courtesy 'farewell'. The loss had struck a dumb note.
Change had settled over her, but the tears of grief would not come, not
again. Yet she could not bring herself to return to the place where she had
communed with Serra for so long. Neither could she bring herself to return
to her home and see all the little things her favored friend had treasured.
Emotion remained out of reach. To what purpose? Serra would not return
again. But seeing the path brought that foolish hope rising once more.
A crack echoed across the quiet of the ranger's outpost as the fighter
barged into the home of the ranger and charged the wife, felling her with
quick blows. Key in hand, they descended the plateau back to the plains and
turned east. The path to their door had cleared.
The quiet evasion of those places particular to her past perpetuated.
A Return Home
Ilromie paused outside of her childhood home, burdened with a bag of supplies
to make her flan from scratch. A peace offering for her mother to take the
sting out of her long absence. Music came from within, along with the quiet
chatter of noblefolk. She slipped the latch.
Within, the well-to-do elves of the Tri-Cities stood gossiping in small groups
in the parlor and dining room. Halfling waitstaff scurried underfoot,
heaving trays loaded with leafy delicacies and glasses of wine. Groceries in
one hand, she snagged a flute of red for herself and slipped into the kitchen.
"Set this aside." She directed the chef, a gnome in a baker's cap. He bowed
to her and found space for the sack in a corner of the counter.
Ilromie was still watching him when he pulled open the oven to disgorge
seven-seed sandwiches. The flames within danced up and echoes of her visions
made her sway. Dread twisted her gut. The oven door closed, but the eerie
sense that she walked paths she had seen in other fires, other dreams,
pervaded the otherwise joyful gathering. The lull in music broke suddenly
with a tune she recalled from her childhood. A song her mother had taught
her to ease the pain of remembering their lineage.
The music came from the tea room, whose superior acoustics lent the
accompanying lute a refinement that the fingers upon the strings lacked.
She entered through the servant's door off the kitchen.
*Alsemma wed Connel, those who would forebear
Now presenting, me, Dysare of Illistarre!*
The elven youth stood and set the lute to the side as he took a bow. Her
parents stood by his side, though she needed not their presence to see the
resemblance. She clapped with the crowd, then waited out the line of praise
demanded of an adequate performance by cultured youth.
Her father's hand was on his shoulder when their eyes met. A moment after,
Dysare's gaze followed. His were a murky green and *familiar*. He had been
in her visions, caught amidst the violence and chaos. Raising the banner
of the Knights to fight the demons. Or was that the breaking wheel on his
shoulder? The distinctive shadow of the Helm of Justice shadowed his face
for a moment, until the boyish joy broke through to the present. "Ilromie!
You're awake!" Then he was upon her, arms wrapped around her hips in a
display of affection too blatant for their cultured company.
She returned his affection with the arm unburdened by wine, then drew him
back to polite distance. "In fact, I wake often. I cannot imagine what has
kept these meeting until your debut."
Her brother's face fell. "You don't remember?" He struck a pose, one hand on
his hip, the other hefting a heavy imaginary sword. "Dysare, the Bringer of
Might!"
A glance at her father confirmed the claim. "It may take some time for your
future to become clear. What I see in the flames does not always come to
pass." She continued to her father: "Let me take him to Valour, we'll explore
Drakath."
"Not during high tide." Connel warned, over his wife's rising objection.
"Not during high tide." She agreed, then turned to mingle with the Seringale
nobility.
Siblings' Sojourn
Ilromie plowed her way through the visions, past the painful immediacy of
Vanisse's lost and through the retraction of the sickly green that had cast
itself over the Rest on every world view she took. With a blink, they
sloughed away to reveal the darkened hearth of her tea room.
The tide outside was calm, but on the rise. If she was to meet her brother
within her father's terms, she would not have long. Within a few hours she
was outside her childhood home. There wasn't time to let herself in before
Dysare threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her waist again. This
time, she was ready to return the embrace.
"The Tide is rising." Her father warned, leaning on his cane from the
doorway.
"I will have him back. I promise."
She took him by the southern path, with a short stop by the Academy, where
she ensured that her mother had not hobbled Dysare's choice of education.
"You are an Illistarre, you need not do what is expected of you."
"Father says I am good with the sword." He drew himself up proudly and
showed her the heirloom he had been given. A suitable sword that had taken
many young Illistarres through their early training.
There was little to see on the rest of the journey through the Ford and back
into Valour. She took him through the fine shops in the center while
reciting their ancient history which gave them a blooded right to live
within the city walls.
The day was drawing short. "Some tea before I send you home." They toured
the Palace then stopped back in her home.
He asked after the statues that decorated her parlour - the ones
commemorating her wedding. "How did you meet him? Who wrote this scroll?"
Unable to stop the rise of her prescience, Ilromie answered each of his
inquiries, fazed by her sudden trance. Memories blurred with reality until
her vision cleared again, and she found herself standing above the
Maelstorm. The hour had grown dark and her brother had lost his earlier
excitement for a nervous shuffle.
"Romie? Can you hear me, Romie?"
"In fact, I can. Let's get you home." She straightened her robe and Dysare
slipped his hand into hers, trustingly.
"You asked me to write this for you." In his other hand, he held a page
torn from his journal. Ilromie took it from him and scanned over the words,
which had a distant familiarity.
"Thank you." She squeezed his hand and Dysare smiled proudly.
He was afraid to take the leap into the storm back to Seringale so they took
the long way down the ancient tree. Their parents were waiting for their
return in the parlour. To judge by the fumes of the smoke, they had been
waiting for hours.
Dysare ran ahead when they got back. "When can we go exploring again?"
"We will see." The tone of their mother's voice suggested they would not be
permitted to explore for many years.
"Soon." Ilromie promised, then left her family to their privacy in the home
that had once been her own.
Description:
The sweet smell of flowers surrounds this elven woman. They have been
braided into her hair, tucked behind her pointed ears, and twisted into
bands around her wrist and ankle. Even for an elf, she is tall and
especially willowy, as if a simple breeze might cause her to sway. Vivid
green eyes are accentuated by a tattoo of a lily inked above her cheekbone.
Her hands are soft and slender, better suited to braiding of flora than
bloodshed, though dark marks mar her wrists. A tension fills the air around
her of magic ready to be bent to her whim. It causes her blond hair to wave
constantly as if caught in a wind.
Definitely a shame to see such an amazingly influential and ever present character fade into the sunset.
1206 hours is a literal fuckton of hours. Most of us played several chars during the lifespan of this single char and I'd wager most of us interacted with her either through rp or pk.
Not sure why someone yawned. Don't hate her cause you ain't her.
Davairus
2 , 0 , 0 .
I am looking forward to seeing what other people post about the character. I personally thought this character deserves to go down as one of the greatest (i.e. the top ten) villain characters in the entire history of this game. You got your ozaru's, your bladefurys, your Xenyar characters that are mean motherfuckers that want to wreck you. This is something else entirely. Ilromie generated nuclear heat. This is a character which other players wanted to see die. Even some of the ordinary players who rarely PK turned SAVAGE. "In fact" = squeaky toy noises
------> Pinnacle Deaths: 65 <------- PROOF.
I really couldn't understand whether we were assholes or whether she was legitimately just working us with the 'tude. That's just one facet of an unforgettable character but that's the one that stands out for me.
Her constant attitude towards Justice is why I yawned her. She fulfilled the very definition of "chaotic stupid". We had an antagonistic relationship across several characters but I felt it on this one in particular.
Scrynor
4 , 0 , 0 .
Ok, I, I can't help it! I have to respond! This is a compliment. The fact that you didn't see it is on you. She was laying it all out there begging you to make it a story arc. The fact that you didn't, from a RP player perspective, is every thing wrong with cabals and everything right with cotories. I don't mean this as a dig to you. I mean it as a provocation. If you hate her, just hate her. The next time you hate somebody? Hate them. In real life make love. In fantasy? In AR?!? Make war!
A true Queen of RP. Every great group dynamic needs a Straight Man and she did a terrific job in the role. I often say I find good aligned RP kind of boring but I rarely, if ever, have seen somebody embrace the pretentious good aligned high elf so thoroughly. She was preachy, she was kind, she was condescending and downright mean, she was loyal. She was consistent in who she was. For years. For my money, the highest RP compliment you can give isn't to say I enjoyed my interactions with this character. It's to say I'm glad I knew you. I knew Ilromie. Happy for it.
Chaotic Good:
Rebels and revolutionaries, these idealists strive to improve society
through upheaval. They are the over throwers of tyranny and the fighters
for freedom. They are not afraid to attack the law if they believe that
the establishment is corrupt, or if the system is protecting wrongdoers.
They believe in change for the betterment of all, even by violence if
necessary.
I forgot to post that - read the helpfile of chaotic hood and think about any interaction your chars had with Ilromie. I can’t think of a single other char to ever personify chaotic good so perfectly.
She did all the coterie work so I wouldn't have to, and she entertained all of you through her crazy behavior, even though some of you pretend it wasn't entertaining. Couldn't ask for more out of a character.
The amount of content created by or because of this character is truly remarkable. Take a sec to look at everything above. Just look at this gravestone and all those positive comments...that in and of itself says so much that there's not much for me to add other than she gets my vote for HoE.
Absolutely loved this character. She had an attitude. She was completely fearless. An exceptional poet. Exemplary RPer. You will be remembered for years to come. RIP.
She took chaos to an unnecessary extreme, which is why I called her "chaotic stupid". There's a perhaps subtle difference between ignoring laws, which would be taking actions without regards to the presence or lack of law, and deliberately breaking them whenever you feel like it/at every opportunity. Not that anyone asked for my opinion...
While I had some decent interactions on a few characters, it more often felt like we were rivals if not downright enemies (perhaps due to past interactions on previous characters). If Ilromie was who I think she was, I felt like we had an intense rivalry for years which went well beyond the scope of our characters. I experienced frustrations with a certain member of the community for years, and Ilromie just happened to act a lot like them. At least, up until recently (again, assuming I pegged Ilromie correctly), Ilromie's player and I had our moments.
I had much more positive interactions on Leitha and undoubtedly deleted far too early to fully develop the RP we had going. I regret that to some extent, but there's nothing to be done about it now.
Overall, if I look at her from a more balanced perspective, Ilromie was an awesome character who helped the Consortium out extensively. I may not have liked some of her RP (and I even found it annoying), but that doesn't detract from the fact that she did it consistently. We've had people who played a character for over a thousand hours who failed to consistently maintain staying IC. So, I'll give credit where credit is due while having my own opinions about her.
Davairus
1 , 0 , 0 .
"That" phrase seems insulting, and the insult likely to be the focal point of your post whether you intended it or not. It also made you seem petty. I'm not sure if that is just gamer lingo you've picked up somewhere else but nobody else at AR will know what you mean by it and it would have been more effective communication if you had just explained the concept without the injurious catch phrase injected in.
Itlromie was excessively chaotic to the point where it was a noteworthy flaw (though flaws aren't necessarily a bad thing). It was like she would *always* break a law if given a choice between doing so and not just as a matter of principle. And I found that annoying overall (as well as her excessive rants about Justice corruption).
lionSpyre
5 , 0 , 0 .
I find this take completely baseless, to be honest. Maybe you hold some bias because you were an evil justice, and by principle you were the antithesis of what Ilromie stood for. But across multiple characters, I never saw her break a law for no reason. Maybe if you take an honest look at your own behavior as a character, you’d be less quick to judge.
For reasons that others have put very eloquently, this was a flawless character in terms of RP, driving story, and striking a balance between principled and dynamic. Friends loved her, foes despised her with a passion, and that is the beating heart of a game like this.
HoE +1
Dogran
1 , 0 , 0 .
I hated Ilromie across so many characters, even when we were allied. Her rp was on point, astounding, she stuck to her guns, and every time she said 'in fact' I wanted to gouge my own eyes out. When I look at an HoE character, the first question I ask myself is will I remember Ilromie in 10-20 years. The answer to that question is absolutely. I will never ever forget Ilromie. I really wanted to be the one to claim her last death, We fought so much on Dogran. Playing her and Kali against eachother was fantastic, and the number of gangbang of dooms she attempted to be a part of it was fantastic. I will always remember running around terrained, panicking on Dogran while Kali lead her and one other around spamming Hellstream at me. I totally should have died there. At the end, she got so much better at PK against a shaman, it took fighting consistently at 30-40% to even get her to commit so I could get the kill.
With that said, none of the other questions I normally ask myself about a potential HoE matter. I will never forget this wonderful, annoying character.
Now this post above is a direct copy/paste from my HoE vote in the emissary forum, missing the last couple of non-relevant statements. I have a question for you Cadeilin. Did you interact with Ilromie from the beginning, leading up to her constantly becoming wanted? Do you know all the background history that developed into her becoming a die-hard criminal?
Davairus
1 , 0 , 0 .
I am more interested in us all learning what "chaotic stupid" is than how a character got itself into that role. Generally we do expect chaotics to have a tendency to get into trouble with the law. I think if some character presented with a choice to obey or break a law will *always* break the law for no real reason, ignoring self-preservation and just die on the wheel, then yeah that seems like an annoying idiot. More importantly though its also immersion-breaking behavior. Regardless of if it made sense based on the background or not, breaking people's immersion is to be avoided.
Incredible character. She had very strong and consistent RP which no doubt was disruptive to people she judged. Her self-appointed righteousness was key to her persona and led to so many great rp interactions over many years. She often left me shocked at how far she would take her disdain for certain people or actions and this wasn't limited to her enemies. There were strong disagreements sometimes among friends but they ultimately came from a place of a tremendously deep character with a very long history to draw on. RPing with her meant diving into immersion head first and you couldn't ask for more as a player. I had so many fantastic scenes with this character and too many great quotes to count.
Beyond the RP, she did so much work behind-the-scenes to create content for the game. She published a ton of Mystiques and helped create countless story arcs. She was integral to much of the storytelling that took place in the game.
Due to a marked playtime difference I wasn't able to interact with her near as much as would have liked. I missed out on at least one great story arc that I genuinely wanted to help conclude, but thems the breaks. Every time I met her however was fun and interesting, as well as challenging as it stretched my values and notions of just what a noble is and what their role in AR can be. Thanks for all the help Illromie, I appreciated it !
Congratulations on HoE, this character made a lot of impressions on people. You had people voting yes that hated the character on theirs, and people who loved her. It was great. Way to go!
1206 hours is a literal fuckton of hours. Most of us played several chars during the lifespan of this single char and I'd wager most of us interacted with her either through rp or pk.
Not sure why someone yawned. Don't hate her cause you ain't her.
Davairus 2 , 0 , 0 . I am looking forward to seeing what other people post about the character. I personally thought this character deserves to go down as one of the greatest (i.e. the top ten) villain characters in the entire history of this game. You got your ozaru's, your bladefurys, your Xenyar characters that are mean motherfuckers that want to wreck you. This is something else entirely. Ilromie generated nuclear heat. This is a character which other players wanted to see die. Even some of the ordinary players who rarely PK turned SAVAGE. "In fact" = squeaky toy noises
Cadeilin 1 , 0 , 4 . Her constant attitude towards Justice is why I yawned her. She fulfilled the very definition of "chaotic stupid". We had an antagonistic relationship across several characters but I felt it on this one in particular. Scrynor 
4 , 0 , 0 . Ok, I, I can't help it! I have to respond! This is a compliment. The fact that you didn't see it is on you. She was laying it all out there begging you to make it a story arc. The fact that you didn't, from a RP player perspective, is every thing wrong with cabals and everything right with cotories. I don't mean this as a dig to you. I mean it as a provocation. If you hate her, just hate her. The next time you hate somebody? Hate them. In real life make love. In fantasy? In AR?!? Make war!
[reply to Kalist19]------> Pinnacle Deaths: 65 <------- PROOF.
I really couldn't understand whether we were assholes or whether she was legitimately just working us with the 'tude. That's just one facet of an unforgettable character but that's the one that stands out for me.
[reply to Ashlyn]
The Last Witch in Serin
Dear lord, I'm despairin'
For the last witch in Serin.
My sister fades to black.
You'll suffer from her lack.
Predeceased by her husband
And two-thirds of her coven,
What more did you expect?
Whose claws around her neck?
Perhaps she was your villain,
O you who made a killing.
Or perhaps she was a friend,
You who've come to mourn again.
In fact, she was my sister
In the way blood is thicker.
She joins me now in death.
I can hardly catch my breath.
One last curse from these witches--
Your favorite pair of bitches--
Toodles. A fond farewell!
We'll see you all in hell.
[reply to Valindra]
[reply to Scrynor]
Rebels and revolutionaries, these idealists strive to improve society
through upheaval. They are the over throwers of tyranny and the fighters
for freedom. They are not afraid to attack the law if they believe that
the establishment is corrupt, or if the system is protecting wrongdoers.
They believe in change for the betterment of all, even by violence if
necessary.
I forgot to post that - read the helpfile of chaotic hood and think about any interaction your chars had with Ilromie. I can’t think of a single other char to ever personify chaotic good so perfectly.
[reply to Kalist19]
[reply to Phostan]
[reply to Stephen2Aus]
[reply to Xenyar]
[reply to Mogu]
While I had some decent interactions on a few characters, it more often felt like we were rivals if not downright enemies (perhaps due to past interactions on previous characters). If Ilromie was who I think she was, I felt like we had an intense rivalry for years which went well beyond the scope of our characters. I experienced frustrations with a certain member of the community for years, and Ilromie just happened to act a lot like them. At least, up until recently (again, assuming I pegged Ilromie correctly), Ilromie's player and I had our moments.
I had much more positive interactions on Leitha and undoubtedly deleted far too early to fully develop the RP we had going. I regret that to some extent, but there's nothing to be done about it now.
Overall, if I look at her from a more balanced perspective, Ilromie was an awesome character who helped the Consortium out extensively. I may not have liked some of her RP (and I even found it annoying), but that doesn't detract from the fact that she did it consistently. We've had people who played a character for over a thousand hours who failed to consistently maintain staying IC. So, I'll give credit where credit is due while having my own opinions about her.
Davairus 1 , 0 , 0 . "That" phrase seems insulting, and the insult likely to be the focal point of your post whether you intended it or not. It also made you seem petty. I'm not sure if that is just gamer lingo you've picked up somewhere else but nobody else at AR will know what you mean by it and it would have been more effective communication if you had just explained the concept without the injurious catch phrase injected in. Cadeilin 0 , 0 , 0 . Let me rephrase it then...
lionSpyre 
5 , 0 , 0 . I find this take completely baseless, to be honest. Maybe you hold some bias because you were an evil justice, and by principle you were the antithesis of what Ilromie stood for. But across multiple characters, I never saw her break a law for no reason. Maybe if you take an honest look at your own behavior as a character, you’d be less quick to judge.
Dogran 
1 , 0 , 0 . I hated Ilromie across so many characters, even when we were allied. Her rp was on point, astounding, she stuck to her guns, and every time she said 'in fact' I wanted to gouge my own eyes out. When I look at an HoE character, the first question I ask myself is will I remember Ilromie in 10-20 years. The answer to that question is absolutely. I will never ever forget Ilromie. I really wanted to be the one to claim her last death, We fought so much on Dogran. Playing her and Kali against eachother was fantastic, and the number of gangbang of dooms she attempted to be a part of it was fantastic. I will always remember running around terrained, panicking on Dogran while Kali lead her and one other around spamming Hellstream at me. I totally should have died there. At the end, she got so much better at PK against a shaman, it took fighting consistently at 30-40% to even get her to commit so I could get the kill.
Davairus 1 , 0 , 0 . I am more interested in us all learning what "chaotic stupid" is than how a character got itself into that role. Generally we do expect chaotics to have a tendency to get into trouble with the law. I think if some character presented with a choice to obey or break a law will *always* break the law for no real reason, ignoring self-preservation and just die on the wheel, then yeah that seems like an annoying idiot. More importantly though its also immersion-breaking behavior. Regardless of if it made sense based on the background or not, breaking people's immersion is to be avoided.
[reply to Cadeilin]Itlromie was excessively chaotic to the point where it was a noteworthy flaw (though flaws aren't necessarily a bad thing). It was like she would *always* break a law if given a choice between doing so and not just as a matter of principle. And I found that annoying overall (as well as her excessive rants about Justice corruption).
For reasons that others have put very eloquently, this was a flawless character in terms of RP, driving story, and striking a balance between principled and dynamic. Friends loved her, foes despised her with a passion, and that is the beating heart of a game like this.
HoE +1
With that said, none of the other questions I normally ask myself about a potential HoE matter. I will never forget this wonderful, annoying character.
Now this post above is a direct copy/paste from my HoE vote in the emissary forum, missing the last couple of non-relevant statements. I have a question for you Cadeilin. Did you interact with Ilromie from the beginning, leading up to her constantly becoming wanted? Do you know all the background history that developed into her becoming a die-hard criminal?
Beyond the RP, she did so much work behind-the-scenes to create content for the game. She published a ton of Mystiques and helped create countless story arcs. She was integral to much of the storytelling that took place in the game.
Great character that will be missed!
[reply to Avenar]
[reply to Savanti]
In fact, I was best by your side
Slaying evil, turning tides
In fact, I hate all you represent
Justice of no consequence
In fact, I need you, no more lies
Together opening my third eye
I won't miss you. Truth, you see?
In fact, you'll be missing me
[reply to Trillian]
[reply to Dogran]
I was unfortunately waiting for this occurance.
lick Ilromie
c 'meteor
Consistency. Perfection.
She wouldn't even break under extraordinary circumstances.
Commitment to her roleplaying even when an obvious death awaited.
Hilarious. Annoying. Oh shit I forgot i was wearing skin of an elven princess and I'm about to join her for antics. I am now the target. Shit.
Just wow. Top 5 for me.
*bow*
[reply to Resatimm]