• Ariel, was not as you know her to be. She existed, in a place altogether different from those you have known; and for that, you gain the strange woman she has become.

    Though to speak Ariel as her name and she reply, such was not always the way. Her birth-kenning was Kelariel Fortaur, Kelariel of the Northwoods. Such was her home, the northern woods of the northern-most forests of Emerith, a region known as Deylkal-bur. The first child, by a mere six minutes, to her younger sister Avlantia. It was strange, her home, cool to cold all year 'round. Amongst her hostar her father was cora. So into these strange ways she was brought, where the other tel'quessir nearby were more likely to be your enemies than friends. To hunt on their grounds was to invite death. And she was taught much of death at a young age. Her first kill was of her neighboring tribe at twenty-six. The girl was seducing the boy Ariel had eyes for. One night she caught them by the river; the next night she was dead, poisoned in her sleep. The boy fled, for everyone knew who had done it, but her father's stature lent her quite a few leniencies.

    It was a strange childhood for the sisters, a third birth a day late leaving behind what one might name the out-cast. It was whispered in corners that the third child was not elven, for twins were rare, to have three, totally unheard of. These discrepancies didn't bother the girls, though they were all different. Ariel was perhaps the most introverted and yet she would be hostar one day as her father before her. When they were young it was hard to tell them apart, but each grew and Ariel became more sure of herself, her place. While Avlantia could naturally lead, and do well at it, Ariel studied hard, and learnt how to become what she was meant to be. The third sister watched these things, strange happenings, and felt left out. It was doubtful that both estanesse and minya would both fall. Her jealousy burned, for if any of the sisters had ambition it was the third.

    Time passed, and the girls became women, Ariel took the lead from her father who was glad for the rest she had brought. There were many questions of course, about her leadership ability; many complaints about her hard fair rule...why could not the second have come first? But this was not to be. Such was not a peaceful time, the third-folk, or humans as we know them had come in their numbers, with their swords and armor for they had heard the riches that were held amongst the many elf tribes. At first it seemed but an inconvenience to Ariel, since there were many tribes left to fall before hers was in danger. She assumed the masses would tire eventually of their conquest and looting and return to their homes. But...humans are greedy. It came to be that many refugees came to her home, to her people. At first they were hunted from the lands, but they grew steadily in number and she realized that something must be done or not only her tribe but her people faced extinction. And so persuasively she gathered her allies and moved forth from her lands, gathering refugees as she passed among the lands of her people. Though she was doubted at first it was a great movement, larger by far than any other hostarrim had seen and when faced with her masses they could do little but agree to join her march or be crushed and sent into the dreaming ne'er to awake. For once, people rallied to her with sword and no small amount of heart. But there are always those who are sour, and still they questioned her leadership. It was at this time the third child went missing. With the travelling and the chaos of amassing her people she was gone. Ariel spared a group of ten, with her best tracker to find her...none of which were to return.

    She faced her enemies at Gator's Crossing, known that way for the rocky canyon looked a lot like a row of sharp teeth. And she relentlessly pushed them back. A cunning tactician, with a sharp mind, the battles were one and lost by both sides. Less to her own, and more to her foes, she pushed them back. It was a daring move, that night, where she sent a decoy cross the bridge. Were it that the humans knew these lands they might have expected the elves to come pouring from the grounds behind the bridge-guards like ants. But they did not, and Ariel struck the blow into their very backs even as they stood their grounds. There is no mercy in war. There is no mercy in her. For that her people were glad.

    So the hunt began, as she chased them down, knowing full well, to leave as it were now, that they would return. This she could not allow. Her people did not replenish the way the third-folk did. With her sister beside her, her parents behind her, they hunted to the very edge of the forests, to the very edge of 'their' lands. Many numbers fell, to rogue arrows, silent knives. Not uncommon was it, to find a whole troop ill and nigh at death, for her stealth seemed without limits...she poisoned their waters and foods. But at the ends of their lands, there was a sight to behold. Here, where the plains rolled without cover, stood a mass of darkness, a swirling entity of men in armor, a sea upon the rolling plains. She counted; the math natural to her, four to one is not good odds. But something strange happened...and returned with her scouts one night. To most, it was just a simple medallion. None knew that bound to her neck, and her sisters was one the same. Crafted on the back, "Amin caela lle seler'. " Once it was established which that the minya was not missing, a quiet darkness seemed to overcome Ariel. In these days she rested, tired, though many knew she walked at night, the shadows welcoming as she studied her foes, hunting for their weakness. After a week of study she was ready. The people saw the mass presented and doubted. After all she had done for them they doubted. But none dared defy her, though they knew not why she was ready to fight this battle. She did not tell them, there was no need for false hope.

    It was the day before they were to fight, and Ariel was listening, she always listens. For the most part, while what she heard hurt, nothing was as great as this day. For words of her father and mother:

    "Does she not see her folly?"
    "No. She sees power now. We have made her hungry."
    "Be it that Avlantia were in her stead, this would never have been the case..."

    She was gone before she heard the last,

    "Were it Avlantia, we would not have made it this far at all."

    Bitter tears were shed, taken from blue eyes that grew steely and cold, washing the color away to leave but grey slate. As the sun set, they marched, and in those sounds of battle her orders reigned clear. And then...they were gone, both estanesse and minya disappeared with no trace.