Innverse Stats | 10.16 N

Name	Text
Eithelenidrel	“Eithelenidrel?”
Nuvityn	It would have astounded anyone from Earth, or even any other nation in the world. But he had seen this same sight for hundreds of years. So King Nuvityn, ruler of the Kingdom of Myths, [King of Men], Elfwed, King of Myths, Leader of the United Peoples of Erribathe, Manoerhog, just stared ahead at another familiar sight.
[King of Men]	It would have astounded anyone from Earth, or even any other nation in the world. But he had seen this same sight for hundreds of years. So King Nuvityn, ruler of the Kingdom of Myths, [King of Men], Elfwed, King of Myths, Leader of the United Peoples of Erribathe, Manoerhog, just stared ahead at another familiar sight.
Erribathe	It would have astounded anyone from Earth, or even any other nation in the world. But he had seen this same sight for hundreds of years. So King Nuvityn, ruler of the Kingdom of Myths, [King of Men], Elfwed, King of Myths, Leader of the United Peoples of Erribathe, Manoerhog, just stared ahead at another familiar sight.
Eithelenidrel	But it had been so long since he’d last heard Queen Eithelenidrel sing. The half-Elf was standing on a tower of the castle that had a view to his window. Her hair was pale red, even if it had begun to gray…far faster than it should. She was singing with a voice to rouse the entire city.
[Bard]	He didn’t know the words. The strange melody sounded half like language, half like the nonsense that [Bards] sometimes made up for fun or to sound grand. Which is what it was. Once—she’d confessed to him that the words weren’t words at all. Just fragmented memories that the half-Elves had failed to preserve, despite their best efforts.
Nuvityn	It was still beautiful. King Nuvityn had heard it before, of course. That was the problem with being so old.
Terandria	He was two hundred and forty-one years old. The oldest Human in all of Terandria. Possibly second-oldest in the world. The Blighted King was the only person that Nuvityn thought might be older, and if there was a being who had once been Human—undead didn’t count—he didn’t know of them.
Othius the Fourth	He was two hundred and forty-one years old. The oldest Human in all of Terandria. Possibly second-oldest in the world. The Blighted King was the only person that Nuvityn thought might be older, and if there was a being who had once been Human—undead didn’t count—he didn’t know of them.
Nuvityn	He was two hundred and forty-one years old. The oldest Human in all of Terandria. Possibly second-oldest in the world. The Blighted King was the only person that Nuvityn thought might be older, and if there was a being who had once been Human—undead didn’t count—he didn’t know of them.
Othius the Fourth	He thought he had aged the best. At least, compared to Othius the Fourth. Even now, Nuvityn had a barrel-chested frame and enough muscle to make him look imposing, although his son had always pointed out his growing stomach. His hair was greying, but it still had the same brown as…
Nuvityn	He thought he had aged the best. At least, compared to Othius the Fourth. Even now, Nuvityn had a barrel-chested frame and enough muscle to make him look imposing, although his son had always pointed out his growing stomach. His hair was greying, but it still had the same brown as…
Terandria	Seen wonders? Each and every one Terandria had. Partaken of drugs? He could write a list. Fought foes? He’d filled out an Adventurer’s Guild’s bestiary for fun one time. Accidentally fallen onto a rusty spike of metal that had gone straight through his groin and out the other side?
Nuvityn	It took an edge off anything beautiful. The wonders began to pale, and that was a terrible thing. But Nuvityn knew the secret to age that Othius had forgotten:
Othius the Fourth	It took an edge off anything beautiful. The wonders began to pale, and that was a terrible thing. But Nuvityn knew the secret to age that Othius had forgotten:
Nuvityn	Even if it was something you’d seen or heard before…if it was rare, it still mattered. So Nuvityn stood at the window and listened.
Eithelenidrel	Eithelenidrel, his consort, the half-Elven Queen of Erribathe, the immortal side to the throne, had sung in his capital exactly three times before this. Over two hundred years they had been wed.
Erribathe	Eithelenidrel, his consort, the half-Elven Queen of Erribathe, the immortal side to the throne, had sung in his capital exactly three times before this. Over two hundred years they had been wed.
Nuvityn	It had taken ninety years for her to sing this song the first time. And that was a long time, even for half-Elves. Ninety years for Nuvityn to realize, belatedly, how unhappy she’d been despite her smiles and laughter. When he’d first heard her sing, it had been a revelation.
Nuvityn	Nuvityn liked to say that his marriage had had its ups and downs. The first century had been rougher on her; he’d mostly been ignorant of the problems. The second had been more tumultuous for both, as his longer-lived citizens could attest, but they’d come to a rather amicable last thirty years.
[King of Men]	The key moment had been when the [King of Men] had finally realized that he’d never sway, convince, or charm Eithelenidrel into necessarily loving him. And that the pact between them was a pact. She had honored it for her people, and he hadn’t realized how much she’d given up.
Eithelenidrel	The key moment had been when the [King of Men] had finally realized that he’d never sway, convince, or charm Eithelenidrel into necessarily loving him. And that the pact between them was a pact. She had honored it for her people, and he hadn’t realized how much she’d given up.
Erribathe	Half of her lifespan. Her home. Her people—even if half-Elves lived in the capital—and an heir for Erribathe. Not least, the company of a man she hadn’t truly known until they were to be wed.
Eithelenidrel	He’d given her back one of those things, at least in part. Eithelenidrel stayed in the Grovelands and seldom emerged. Not for most royal events; not that Erribathe had many that were annual. It was one of the Restful Three, a nation without need nor complaint.
Erribathe	He’d given her back one of those things, at least in part. Eithelenidrel stayed in the Grovelands and seldom emerged. Not for most royal events; not that Erribathe had many that were annual. It was one of the Restful Three, a nation without need nor complaint.

“Eithelenidrel?”

It would have astounded anyone from Earth, or even any other nation in the world. But he had seen this same sight for hundreds of years. So King Nuvityn, ruler of the Kingdom of Myths, [King of Men], Elfwed, King of Myths, Leader of the United Peoples of Erribathe, Manoerhog, just stared ahead at another familiar sight.

[King of Men]

It would have astounded anyone from Earth, or even any other nation in the world. But he had seen this same sight for hundreds of years. So King Nuvityn, ruler of the Kingdom of Myths, [King of Men], Elfwed, King of Myths, Leader of the United Peoples of Erribathe, Manoerhog, just stared ahead at another familiar sight.

Erribathe

It would have astounded anyone from Earth, or even any other nation in the world. But he had seen this same sight for hundreds of years. So King Nuvityn, ruler of the Kingdom of Myths, [King of Men], Elfwed, King of Myths, Leader of the United Peoples of Erribathe, Manoerhog, just stared ahead at another familiar sight.

Eithelenidrel

But it had been so long since he’d last heard Queen Eithelenidrel sing. The half-Elf was standing on a tower of the castle that had a view to his window. Her hair was pale red, even if it had begun to gray…far faster than it should. She was singing with a voice to rouse the entire city.

[Bard]

He didn’t know the words. The strange melody sounded half like language, half like the nonsense that [Bards] sometimes made up for fun or to sound grand. Which is what it was. Once—she’d confessed to him that the words weren’t words at all. Just fragmented memories that the half-Elves had failed to preserve, despite their best efforts.

Nuvityn

It was still beautiful. King Nuvityn had heard it before, of course. That was the problem with being so old.

Terandria

He was two hundred and forty-one years old. The oldest Human in all of Terandria. Possibly second-oldest in the world. The Blighted King was the only person that Nuvityn thought might be older, and if there was a being who had once been Human—undead didn’t count—he didn’t know of them.

Othius the Fourth

He was two hundred and forty-one years old. The oldest Human in all of Terandria. Possibly second-oldest in the world. The Blighted King was the only person that Nuvityn thought might be older, and if there was a being who had once been Human—undead didn’t count—he didn’t know of them.

Nuvityn

He was two hundred and forty-one years old. The oldest Human in all of Terandria. Possibly second-oldest in the world. The Blighted King was the only person that Nuvityn thought might be older, and if there was a being who had once been Human—undead didn’t count—he didn’t know of them.

Othius the Fourth

He thought he had aged the best. At least, compared to Othius the Fourth. Even now, Nuvityn had a barrel-chested frame and enough muscle to make him look imposing, although his son had always pointed out his growing stomach. His hair was greying, but it still had the same brown as…

Nuvityn

He thought he had aged the best. At least, compared to Othius the Fourth. Even now, Nuvityn had a barrel-chested frame and enough muscle to make him look imposing, although his son had always pointed out his growing stomach. His hair was greying, but it still had the same brown as…

Terandria

Seen wonders? Each and every one Terandria had. Partaken of drugs? He could write a list. Fought foes? He’d filled out an Adventurer’s Guild’s bestiary for fun one time. Accidentally fallen onto a rusty spike of metal that had gone straight through his groin and out the other side?

Nuvityn

It took an edge off anything beautiful. The wonders began to pale, and that was a terrible thing. But Nuvityn knew the secret to age that Othius had forgotten:

Othius the Fourth

It took an edge off anything beautiful. The wonders began to pale, and that was a terrible thing. But Nuvityn knew the secret to age that Othius had forgotten:

Nuvityn

Even if it was something you’d seen or heard before…if it was rare, it still mattered. So Nuvityn stood at the window and listened.

Eithelenidrel

Eithelenidrel, his consort, the half-Elven Queen of Erribathe, the immortal side to the throne, had sung in his capital exactly three times before this. Over two hundred years they had been wed.

Erribathe

Eithelenidrel, his consort, the half-Elven Queen of Erribathe, the immortal side to the throne, had sung in his capital exactly three times before this. Over two hundred years they had been wed.

Nuvityn

It had taken ninety years for her to sing this song the first time. And that was a long time, even for half-Elves. Ninety years for Nuvityn to realize, belatedly, how unhappy she’d been despite her smiles and laughter. When he’d first heard her sing, it had been a revelation.

Nuvityn

Nuvityn liked to say that his marriage had had its ups and downs. The first century had been rougher on her; he’d mostly been ignorant of the problems. The second had been more tumultuous for both, as his longer-lived citizens could attest, but they’d come to a rather amicable last thirty years.

[King of Men]

The key moment had been when the [King of Men] had finally realized that he’d never sway, convince, or charm Eithelenidrel into necessarily loving him. And that the pact between them was a pact. She had honored it for her people, and he hadn’t realized how much she’d given up.

Eithelenidrel

The key moment had been when the [King of Men] had finally realized that he’d never sway, convince, or charm Eithelenidrel into necessarily loving him. And that the pact between them was a pact. She had honored it for her people, and he hadn’t realized how much she’d given up.

Erribathe

Half of her lifespan. Her home. Her people—even if half-Elves lived in the capital—and an heir for Erribathe. Not least, the company of a man she hadn’t truly known until they were to be wed.

Eithelenidrel

He’d given her back one of those things, at least in part. Eithelenidrel stayed in the Grovelands and seldom emerged. Not for most royal events; not that Erribathe had many that were annual. It was one of the Restful Three, a nation without need nor complaint.

Erribathe

He’d given her back one of those things, at least in part. Eithelenidrel stayed in the Grovelands and seldom emerged. Not for most royal events; not that Erribathe had many that were annual. It was one of the Restful Three, a nation without need nor complaint.

Chapter 10.16 N

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