The Saga of House Imrithane [Ulthuan in Flames]

[Elaithnir]

The Saga of House Imrithane continues! For those of you who remember, Itharion was a member of the third legion (the Bladewind) in Hour of the Wolf, and Elaithnir, his father, one of the glorious heroes of the First Legion in the War of the Beard.
Exiled once long a go from Ulthuan, and now from Sarthailor, House Imrithane faces an uncertain futrure...but a new dawn may yet await!
Enjoy!
(P.S. A paltry fiction by me. Not endorsed by the fluff team etc etc. If you want the previous installments, I can post them too, but I've lost some parts...)

Part One - Homecoming

The thick mist hung all around the Dragonship as it cut silently through the water, an almost impenetrable grey barrier. Itharion Imrithane stared restlessly into the dense swirling mass ahead, his battered cloak tightly closed against the damp. Behind him, the mysterious elven sailors steered their vessel, ghostly shapes gliding about their tasks. They had been at sea for days now, and those very sailors had been singularly unforthcoming about their destination, their purpose, or anything else for that matter. Itharion had given up on prying any information from their hosts, instead contenting himself with keeping a stoic vigil from the ship’s prow, alone with his thoughts.

That’s where he stood now, his blue Senthoi cloak drab in the gloomy half-light. He sighed, knowing he looked a far cry from the Prince of Sarthailor he was. Or had been. Sarthailor. Jewel of Elthin Arvan, stronghold of the true Asur. How the proud kingdom of Elves and Men had fallen! A strange flame that had burnt too brightly and died too fast. He could scarce believe it was gone.

He grimaced as the memories assailed him. The council at which war had been declared against the once more. The alliance with the Dawi and the humans of the Reikland. The mustering of the princes. How the mighty legions had marched to war, secure in their own invincibility, true in their purpose. How that purpose had been thwarted, their strength made as nothing by the treacherous hordes of Dark Elves and Chaos. The bitter struggle as cities fell one by one, every foot paid for by enemy blood. Mighty deeds and heroic sacrifices, and all for nought.
Near the end, the forces of Sarthailor and the Alliance had been scattered, broken beyond all hope.

Even the once proud Legions could not hold together. Itharion himself had become separated from the Third Legion as they rode hard to a desperate muster of Alliance forces. Instead he had led his men to Tor Andruin, hard on the sea, hoping beyond hope to hold the port for the inevitable flood of refugees. It was not to be.

Tor Andruin had already fallen in an orgy of destruction, the Druchii slaying any non-elf they could find and capturing all pure Asur for return to Ulthuan and torment. He and his men had fought bravely, cutting a path to the docks, intent on escape, but the enemy were too numerous. At last only Itharion was left, surrounded by jeering foes…as he prepared to sell his life as dearly as possible, on the docks they had sought; help had arrived, unexpected and uncalled for. Proud elves, tall and fair, with the fire of Asuryan in them had cut down the Druchii, freeing their elven prisoners. Guided aboard their ships, Itharion had been reunited with prince Elileth. His commander had been captured on the way to the muster, ambushed by their enemies. As the ships sailed into the west, the last of the Sarthailirim watched their cities burn behind them, and looked with trepidation on their mysterious benefactors.

They were indeed Children of Asuryan, but Itharion had gathered little from their cryptic remarks. None of the other Sarthailirim were any wiser, and thus they had spent the days anxiously awaiting their destination. The last survivors of a fallen nation…

The last.

Emotion welled up in Itharion as the full implications of that thought hit him. He was the last of his line. The last Imrithane. A Prince without a people. Twice his house’s banner had fallen now. Long ago when his father’s brother had betrayed him on Ulthuan, weeks ago when the remade Blade and Stars had fallen in Sarthailor. He had nothing left.

No. Not nothing.

He instinctively reached for the sword on his back, the only heirloom of his house he had left: The Blade of Vengeance. Its hilt was familiar in his hand. He had drawn blood with it on a hundred battlefields, as had his father before him. Ancient beyond reckoning, a weapon from the days of the Defender, the mark of a true Prince of Ulthuan.

His faced twisted into a bitter smile. A Prince twice over, and twice over exiled.

He shook himself, trying to expel the melancholy that had become his constant companion. There would be a reckoning one day. For now, there was other business at hand.

Behind him, he heard a sudden commotion. Turning his head in puzzlement, he saw the Sarthailirim rush towards the prow of the ship, their faces anxious. Prince Elileth, and Prince Vallir, son of Cerith, was among them, the latter led by the mysterious elf that seemed to command this vessel. Snapping his gaze back ahead of the ship, Itharion strained to penetrate the fog, a sudden feeling of trepidation clutching at his heart…

Suddenly the fog banks rolled back, pierced by pure sunlight. Across the suddenly sparkling blue water Itharion saw their destination and his heart lifted, all fear dispelled by the sight ahead of him. Inside him it felt as though his soul suddenly ignited. All around him, Sarthailirim were openly crying, or singing, or both, sudden joy inside them.
“Welcome home Sarthailirim,” he heard the mysterious elf say.

A single tear rolled down Itharion Imrithane’s cheek.

[Si'anelle of Avelorn]

Ah.....(sniff)..... ah that was well told.

One teeny tiny criticism, - a cloak may be 'tattered', but not 'battered.' A typo perhaps?

[Prince_Asuryan]

Very good indeed.

Gotta old off my fluff until I know what faction I'm in

[Elaithnir]

Hmm. I was thinking of using tattered...but I'm sure battered can be used as well? As in worn, not new, used a lot?
Thanks for the feedback...As for holding back until I knew what faction I'm in...I suppose that's the wisest course of action but I'm banking on getting into the Cult of Asuryan...otherwise Itharion might have to be reunited with the Druchii Imrithanes...