Innverse Stats | Interlude

Name	Text
Nuvityn	It had been a long time since Nuvityn, King of Men, Elfwed, Leader of the United Peoples of Erribathe, Descendant of the Hundred Families, heir to the Shrouded Crown and the relics of his ancestors, walked the halls of his palace as an observer and not an occupant.
Erribathe	It had been a long time since Nuvityn, King of Men, Elfwed, Leader of the United Peoples of Erribathe, Descendant of the Hundred Families, heir to the Shrouded Crown and the relics of his ancestors, walked the halls of his palace as an observer and not an occupant.
Avel	He had other names, other titles accorded to him such that if you wanted to be pedantic, you could use everything from Avel’s honorary Golden Archer title to the actual accolades he’d won in the north among the Taligrit folk. Manoerhog Nuvityn.
Nuvityn	He had other names, other titles accorded to him such that if you wanted to be pedantic, you could use everything from Avel’s honorary Golden Archer title to the actual accolades he’d won in the north among the Taligrit folk. Manoerhog Nuvityn.
Nuvityn	The Taligrits had a unique sense of humor. Nor was it a slight. A younger, brash Prince Nuvityn had once joined their festivities and won the title fairly. The most astute diplomats knew that was no…fanciful term like an honorary dukedom.
[Barbarian]	It was a term of endearment that won you a free drink at every pub you came to and had a lot of local prestige. It came from the great and historied practices of Taligrits, who some called the last [Barbarians] and savages of the north, for all they had a proper kingdom of sorts.
Erribathe	Never let it be said that Erribathe’s great [King of Men] did not know how to inspire all kinds of folk. In truth, the Taligrits would have fit right in with some of Erribathe’s wild folks.
[King of Men]	Never let it be said that Erribathe’s great [King of Men] did not know how to inspire all kinds of folk. In truth, the Taligrits would have fit right in with some of Erribathe’s wild folks.
Erribathe	Never let it be said that Erribathe’s great [King of Men] did not know how to inspire all kinds of folk. In truth, the Taligrits would have fit right in with some of Erribathe’s wild folks.
Nuvityn	He still thought he looked the part. Nuvityn’s hair had finally gone to grey, but only threads amongst dark brown hair. His lines, for all they stood out on his face, still only emphasized a man not yet gone to seed.
[King of Men]	[King of Men]. He walked among his people like a reminder of that. He was not touched by immortality like his queen, half-Elven beauty, which was impossible. He was simply what a person could be, in his advancing age. Even when he felt his age in the night, a bearskin cloak hanging around his shoulders, he walked upright.
Terandria	The third-largest kingdom of Terandria was vast enough for the nomadic Kehndroth folk with their fine steeds to mix, coming down from the highlands with the metal-loving Osverthians. Half-Elves of three forests—and yes, folk who would happily throw down with a wild pig for fun.
Erribathe	Erribathe was a varied nation many knew little about. It had the dignity of its years, and the Kingdom of Myth was known as one of the Restful Three. It was a proud nation, proud of the legacy it had not lost.
Nuvityn	Yet—betimes, even Nuvityn felt more like the Manoerhog than the King of Myths. It was hard to grow up in the Age of Waning, and he had lived two hundred and forty-one years.
Erribathe	As half-Elves did, really. Though his kingdom was more plentiful, the aspect that had kept him from madness was that Erribathe did keep away from the world.
Zelkyr Amerwing	Two hundred and forty-one years. Long enough to have remembered a time before Zelkyr. To have sent his forces to Izril in outrage—then to Rhir—and then to have fought off the Necromancer when he fell to his madness.
Izril	Two hundred and forty-one years. Long enough to have remembered a time before Zelkyr. To have sent his forces to Izril in outrage—then to Rhir—and then to have fought off the Necromancer when he fell to his madness.
Rhir	Two hundred and forty-one years. Long enough to have remembered a time before Zelkyr. To have sent his forces to Izril in outrage—then to Rhir—and then to have fought off the Necromancer when he fell to his madness.
Az’kerash	Better to live now rather than to wake up with the mists hanging foul and low and receive a summons. To hear an army by the hundreds of thousands was descending once more, led by that perverted Archmage of Death.
Iradoren	Perhaps he would abdicate his throne and give Prince Iradoren his reign. The boy was naught but seventy years of age, for all he looked half-that. He had grown up twenty years among the old villages of half-Elves, so you had to subtract that from his age.
Nuvityn	All of this would have left Nuvityn wanting, as he knew Iradoren wanted, to carve out a more fitting legacy for his time. To make Erribathe shine as it had done in days of old.
Iradoren	All of this would have left Nuvityn wanting, as he knew Iradoren wanted, to carve out a more fitting legacy for his time. To make Erribathe shine as it had done in days of old.
Erribathe	All of this would have left Nuvityn wanting, as he knew Iradoren wanted, to carve out a more fitting legacy for his time. To make Erribathe shine as it had done in days of old.
Nuvityn	—But those days were past. And Nuvityn had tried.
Feor	What people forgot—even the ‘old’ ones like Feor—was that there was a time before Zelkyr. There was. And in those days, if he recalled his memories of a child correctly, used tonics to drift back to recall clearly, dictated his memoirs—

Nuvityn

It had been a long time since Nuvityn, King of Men, Elfwed, Leader of the United Peoples of Erribathe, Descendant of the Hundred Families, heir to the Shrouded Crown and the relics of his ancestors, walked the halls of his palace as an observer and not an occupant.

Erribathe

It had been a long time since Nuvityn, King of Men, Elfwed, Leader of the United Peoples of Erribathe, Descendant of the Hundred Families, heir to the Shrouded Crown and the relics of his ancestors, walked the halls of his palace as an observer and not an occupant.

Avel

He had other names, other titles accorded to him such that if you wanted to be pedantic, you could use everything from Avel’s honorary Golden Archer title to the actual accolades he’d won in the north among the Taligrit folk. Manoerhog Nuvityn.

Nuvityn

He had other names, other titles accorded to him such that if you wanted to be pedantic, you could use everything from Avel’s honorary Golden Archer title to the actual accolades he’d won in the north among the Taligrit folk. Manoerhog Nuvityn.

Nuvityn

The Taligrits had a unique sense of humor. Nor was it a slight. A younger, brash Prince Nuvityn had once joined their festivities and won the title fairly. The most astute diplomats knew that was no…fanciful term like an honorary dukedom.

[Barbarian]

It was a term of endearment that won you a free drink at every pub you came to and had a lot of local prestige. It came from the great and historied practices of Taligrits, who some called the last [Barbarians] and savages of the north, for all they had a proper kingdom of sorts.

Erribathe

Never let it be said that Erribathe’s great [King of Men] did not know how to inspire all kinds of folk. In truth, the Taligrits would have fit right in with some of Erribathe’s wild folks.

[King of Men]

Never let it be said that Erribathe’s great [King of Men] did not know how to inspire all kinds of folk. In truth, the Taligrits would have fit right in with some of Erribathe’s wild folks.

Erribathe

Never let it be said that Erribathe’s great [King of Men] did not know how to inspire all kinds of folk. In truth, the Taligrits would have fit right in with some of Erribathe’s wild folks.

Nuvityn

He still thought he looked the part. Nuvityn’s hair had finally gone to grey, but only threads amongst dark brown hair. His lines, for all they stood out on his face, still only emphasized a man not yet gone to seed.

[King of Men]

[King of Men]. He walked among his people like a reminder of that. He was not touched by immortality like his queen, half-Elven beauty, which was impossible. He was simply what a person could be, in his advancing age. Even when he felt his age in the night, a bearskin cloak hanging around his shoulders, he walked upright.

Terandria

The third-largest kingdom of Terandria was vast enough for the nomadic Kehndroth folk with their fine steeds to mix, coming down from the highlands with the metal-loving Osverthians. Half-Elves of three forests—and yes, folk who would happily throw down with a wild pig for fun.

Erribathe

Erribathe was a varied nation many knew little about. It had the dignity of its years, and the Kingdom of Myth was known as one of the Restful Three. It was a proud nation, proud of the legacy it had not lost.

Nuvityn

Yet—betimes, even Nuvityn felt more like the Manoerhog than the King of Myths. It was hard to grow up in the Age of Waning, and he had lived two hundred and forty-one years.

Erribathe

As half-Elves did, really. Though his kingdom was more plentiful, the aspect that had kept him from madness was that Erribathe did keep away from the world.

Zelkyr Amerwing

Two hundred and forty-one years. Long enough to have remembered a time before Zelkyr. To have sent his forces to Izril in outrage—then to Rhir—and then to have fought off the Necromancer when he fell to his madness.

Izril

Two hundred and forty-one years. Long enough to have remembered a time before Zelkyr. To have sent his forces to Izril in outrage—then to Rhir—and then to have fought off the Necromancer when he fell to his madness.

Rhir

Two hundred and forty-one years. Long enough to have remembered a time before Zelkyr. To have sent his forces to Izril in outrage—then to Rhir—and then to have fought off the Necromancer when he fell to his madness.

Az’kerash

Better to live now rather than to wake up with the mists hanging foul and low and receive a summons. To hear an army by the hundreds of thousands was descending once more, led by that perverted Archmage of Death.

Iradoren

Perhaps he would abdicate his throne and give Prince Iradoren his reign. The boy was naught but seventy years of age, for all he looked half-that. He had grown up twenty years among the old villages of half-Elves, so you had to subtract that from his age.

Nuvityn

All of this would have left Nuvityn wanting, as he knew Iradoren wanted, to carve out a more fitting legacy for his time. To make Erribathe shine as it had done in days of old.

Iradoren

All of this would have left Nuvityn wanting, as he knew Iradoren wanted, to carve out a more fitting legacy for his time. To make Erribathe shine as it had done in days of old.

Erribathe

All of this would have left Nuvityn wanting, as he knew Iradoren wanted, to carve out a more fitting legacy for his time. To make Erribathe shine as it had done in days of old.

Nuvityn

—But those days were past. And Nuvityn had tried.

Feor

What people forgot—even the ‘old’ ones like Feor—was that there was a time before Zelkyr. There was. And in those days, if he recalled his memories of a child correctly, used tonics to drift back to recall clearly, dictated his memoirs—

Interlude – Age and Tales

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