Anointment of a Knight of Corellon

At a old beautifully carved desk in the back room of the grand Temple of the Seladrine, and elf sits behind piles of of old dust tomes.

The room is lit by a soft pale blue light and the elf pages through one of the large tomes. The book looks to be made of a fine silver and ancient elvish runes flow about its cover.

The runes are elvish and read prayers to Corellon. The content of the book is that of the alchemical rites of Avandor, it describes the beautiful plants brought to this realm from Avandor, and which ones must be found for an anointment.

Nodding his head to no one in particular the elf stands and walks over to a table carved of a Grey stone, on the top of table rests a blue antependium embroidered with a scene of the night sky and in the center is a large crescent moon. On top the table and alter cloth sets a half dozen small silver bowels of different sizes. The bowls are plan unadorned silver and in each bowl sits herbs of different varieties. In the center of table is a brazier above which sets a large silver mortar and a glass pastel. In the mortar is a small pile of ground herbs, small wisps of blue and green light dance across the surface of the alchemical mixture.

The elf takes a pinch of yellow flowers from on of the silver bowel and whispering a prayer in ancient Espurar crushes the flower between his finger letting them fall into the mortar. White light seems to bubble forth from the mixture and spills out of the bowel and then it flows over the Alter.

The elf nods and turns walking to the door of the small room. He walks out into the hall way and looks to an elf boy standing in the hall way.

“My brother please make sure none disturbs the room while I am gone. I must collect a few more herbs before the anointment is finished.” Says the elf in a even, yet comforting tone.

The boy nods and the elf continues out. He stops by the statue of Corellon and says a small prayer. He passes one of the higher clergy men of the temple as he leaves smiling.

The Clergymen smiles warmly as the elf passes and he says to no one in particular.

“The first Anointed Knight that this temple has seen in nearly a thousand years. It warms the Spirit of the Seladrine that the reclamation has happened. Now with our Aelavellin Corellon beginning to return we may be able to keep it. I should prepare we will soon Anoint a Knight.”

Sweat beaded on his forehead as the elf known as Arn 'etheniir climbed the cliffs deep in Cormanthor wood.

He smiled as he climbed thinking of a dwarf that he had traveled with near Cormyr, after two days of hard hiking through the Thunder peaks while guarding a caravan from the monsters of the wilds there. The Dwarf smell foul of body stench and smelling him self he pronounced loudly.

“Well der be times I be wishen I be an elf. When I be sweatin pigs shit and rotten vegetables, He be sweatin pretty lilac juice.”

The climb was hard and took the better part of the afternoon. Arn reached its zenith near twilight. He scanned the top of the mount and he saw what he had come to find. Near the highest stones was a large silver and purple plant, its leave glinting in the shadows of twilight. This was a Moon Heart Orchid and one of the finial infusion needed for his Anointment Elixir. The Elixir that will open his soul to the glory of Arvandor where the Tel'Seladrine will judge him in his worthiness after he take the elixir he will either be reborn as a warrior of the Moon or his soul will be judged un-worthy and he will be pulled into Arvandor for his hubris.

He knew the risks here but he felt doing this would aid in atonement for his fathers misdeeds his fathers darkness.

Arn 'etheniir cleared his mind. Standing on the bluff over looking the Great forest his thoughts melted away. He must wait till the full Moon for the Moon Heart Orchid to Bloom only during its full bloom could he gather it. So he undid his armor and removed his cloths and stood naked before the glories creation of the Seladrine he stood there amongst the wild and breathed it in.

A storm brewed far in the horizon the lighting was visible to him from his vantage point. He slid his elf blades from there scabbards and began his Salk'hynadi, his Blade Dance.

The dance begun slowly as he felt the stone under his feet and he gathered through his senses the border of his arena, his theater for the blade dance. His moments where fluid like the winds that swept over his nude body. His eyes closed and he moved with his heart, the peace of nature filled with the power of the storm. His mind filled with the dances shown in his book Art of the Storm Dance. His dance mirrored that, mingling fluid movements of nature with strikes like lighting. For hours he danced in reverie and mediation.

Light pierce his eye lids, his body was sore from movement. He looked and is eyes fell on the bright silver glow from the Moon Heart Orchid. Its beauty stunning him it seem liked the essence of nature facing him on that rocky bluff.

He kneel next to the flower and picked a single bud. Not taking more than he needed. He prayed as he did so a pray of thanks for the beauty still in the world a prayer of forgiveness for spoiling such splendor and a pray of hope of his worthiness.

Incense floated thick in hall leading to a small room in the back of the Temple of Seladrine.
For two tendays an elf has been secluded in the room. For two tendays he has come and gone quietly each time bring back bags of herbs and vials of strange liquids. For two tendays he has been heard chanting, singing and praying. And for two tendays the elves of the Clergy of the Seladrine have been growing in excitement.

They knew by the tone of the prayers and the joy of the songs the elf was near completion of the anointing elixir.

And soon the Church would bless him with the ritual of Anointment. A warrior scholar would be remade and agent for good in the world bound by oath and magic. A Champion for Corellon Larethian and a omen of the return of his Knights.

The moon light flowed into the Temple of the Seladrine. The night danced with the sweet song of the Crowns Lament and prayer Hymns of elves to the Protector. The moonlight focused into the atrium of the great temple falling upon the center alter. Atop the alter incense burned the blue smoke filling the night air like a living mists, in the center of the alter stood a large glass bowl and in the bowl flowed a a thick silvery, blue salve. The Anointment of Arvandor, was complete and a waiting its use.

Before the alter knelt a elf, clad in white robes with silver embroidery, his dirty copper hair pulled back from his face with a white ribbon. He knelt there still in near reverie, purifying his mind and soul for the journey ahead.

Soon he would be Anointed, his heart would be laid bear to judgments of Seladrine.

Faithful of the Entered the Temple of the Seladrine. They came to watch, the came to witness the ritual that would bring another into there fold.

(OOC I am Wondering if a DM would be willing to do a small in game ceremony of his anointment. If so please posit it here so we can get a time pounded out when we could do so.


Also any other Seladrine faithful are welcome to come and see his anointment.)