Here is the story of Meira in written form if you’d like to read it. Hope you all enjoy it!
Meira, Brightmaid Healer
Make sure we have all the preparations ready for the festival of tales, OH! I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice you there. My name is Bendus Silverheart, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Have you come for the festival? Oh, it's a wonderful time of year, were we exchange stories from all over Amanlashe, learning of legends, myths, heroes, and villains of our past. Stories like the legend of the talking halberd, the myth of the Bjorn the Battleheart, or the dark legend of the evil Lich sorcerer Pucrex. Would you like to hear a story now? Ahhhhh, your in for a treat. Prepare yourself, for the story of Princess Meira. Long ago, on a moonlit night, the cries of labor pains could be heard throughout the castle.
Queen Mother Isilynor laid back in the most dignified pose one could muster while birthing. With an almost eerie calmness about her, the Queen Mother breathed slowly and deeply, pushing when told and relaxing when her contractions ended. You would think this wasn’t her first child with how composed she has been throughout the whole process.
Isilynor: She should be crowning now.
Firbolg Midwife: Queen Mother, are you alright?
Your handling the birthing process well, but I fear that your demeanor shows a detached empathy for the child.
Isilynor: Know your place feylf, and deliver the child. My demeanor means nothing at the moment, just bring my daughter into being.
Firbolg Midwife: Yes your highness.
The racial slur stinging the firbolg midwife, she continued her work feeling the full weight of the derogatory statement. Fake Elf, feylf, a slur name given to firbolgs because of their elf like ears, a ridiculous attempt to feel superior over others, to make others feel subservient to the elves. Even with the foul comment fresh in her mind, the firbolg midwife continued working. Sometime later, a healthy baby girl was born and named Meira by the Queen Mother. Refusing to hold the infant, the Queen Mother ordered that the baby be taken to its quarters. It would be some time before the Queen Mother would ever be parental towards her child, in her own way.
89 Years Later
A young maiden looks out over the battlefield seeing the carnage of war and what it brings to the realm. The rhino-folk and elephant-kin have been hunted like animals by the dragonborn for centuries. While, for the most part, the ivories tend to hold their own in battle, they’ve managed to gain support from the dwarven stronghold of Kunnenat. The dwarves of Marr Karitat rarely leave their mountainous homes, or their civil war, unless it is for the benefit of their clan or stronghold. The rhino-folk will make excellent shock troops for Crystalbeard Clan, and will bolster their claim for the throne amongst their stronghold. In the distance, an attack formation of elves moves in on a detachment of ivories for the kill. The maiden riding a hippogriff lands and bars their way.
Meira: I order you to cease this attack and move on with your platoon. They are injured and cannot defend themselves.
Woodelf Sergeant: Princess Meira, we are under orders to leave no quarter, and show no mercy.
Meira: As princess of Glorandal Taure, I order you to return to your platoon. These people are under my protection now. You two, you will stay and assist the wounded.
Woodelf Soldiers in unison: Ma’am!
The 2 rhino-folk, 1 elephant-kin, and 3 children appear frightened by the arrival of a royal member of the thorned throne. The Princess lower herself down off of her hippogriff and kneels down exposing the horn on her forehead.
Meira: Do not be frightened children, I am here to help. Please, allow me to heal your wounds and bring comfort to your young ones.
Rhino-folk 1: The horned elf mocks us and wants to heal our afflictions. We would not be suffering if you had kept your noses clean and left the scales to their own battles.
Meira: My people only intervened because of our treaty with the Fanged State. If your people wouldn’t have seeked the help of the Karit-rukum, we’d be in the forest right now minding our own business.
Elephant-kin: If we hadn’t begged the dwarves for help, our herd would have been wiped out!
Meira: You don’t understand! I don’t want this, but I’m just as helpless as you. I may be a princess, but I have to follow the same orders issued by the Queen Mother as every other elf.
Rhino-folk 2: You don’t know what helpless is!
Elephant-kin: Helpless is watching your children be slain, skinned, and devoured by monsters. Helpless is knowing that no matter how much you beg, threaten, or order, you bare witness to the complete destruction of your kind!
Rhino-folk 1: Enough of this! Kill the pointy-eared devils, and capture the horned one!
With that, the 2 rhino-folk rush the elf soldiers left behind to assist Meira, and quickly brought them down. As the 2 rhino-folk slowly advanced towards the princess and her mount, 2 arrows shot past the maiden and struck the second rhino-folk. After the creature fell, a loud horn erupted from behind the princess, as a giant stag exploded into the area and gored the remaining rhino-folk. Riding the great beast was none other than the Queen Mother, Isilynor, her glittering gold and emerald leafed armor reflecting the sun as if it had just been polished, shone, and never worn. She wielded a great lance with deadly precision in one arm, and a leaf shaped shield in the other. Hair the color of wheat in autumn flowed from her head, with a battle helm framing her face. A small contingent of dragonborn astride drakes circled around the remaining elephant-kin and children, surrounding them.
Meria: Mother, Queen Mother, I appreciate the assistance, but it wasn’t necessary. I was about to…
Isilynor: Why was my sergeant ordered to return to his platoon before handling these people?
Meira: Mother, you don’t understand! They were helpless, and the children. They were going to kill the children!
Isilynor: So helpless that they killed 2 of our own, and threatened your safety?
Meira: They did so out of fear! Please Mother, spare the ivory and her children. Allow me to bring them safely to the forest.
A green scaled dragonborn astride a drake rides up to meet the argueing elves. A snake like tongue tasting the air as he moves his head, taking in the conversation, and responding with calculated words.
Talon: Queen Mother, I must remind you that according to our treaty, it is unlawful to allow refugees of the ivories safe haven in Glorandal Taure.
Isilynor: I am well aware of our laws and customs, and you would do well not to assume my intelligence or memory.
Talon: Of course Queen Mother, we will dispose of them now. My kin, feast!
Meira: NO! I claim them by right of capture, they are mine to do with as I see fit!
Talon: You have no right of capture. You belong to no brood, which means you have no hunting grounds to make prey of them.
Isilynor: Actually Talon, upon the signing of that treaty, my family and I were officially recognized as our own brood in the Fanged State. And since I rule all of Glorandal Taure, then the forest acts as my hunting grounds. Also, since I am Queen Mother of all elves, all my children have full rights to claim capture against any remaining ivories. Lieutenant, let it be known to all commanders, that they are to capture all defeated ivories, and arrange transport for them to Glorandal Taure.
Talon: You have made your point Queen Mother, the Princess may take the meat with her.
Isilynor: And I will be taking 50 of the finest bulls captured, along with 100 cows. A gift, to show your appreciation for all the assistance the emerald forest has given you.
Talon: Queen Mother, surely you must be jesting?
Isilynor: Lieutenant!
Talon: No, no, no, no, of course. A gift, to the thorned throne and our great friends of the forest.
Isilynor: Belay that order lieutenant, take these 3 too our healers. Finish assisting the Fanged State in their endeavors, round up our assets, and move for home. I grow tired of these scales and their hunts. Meira, come with me.
After all the orders are issued, elves and dragonborn begin moving about handling various odds and ends. An estimated 400 rhino-folk, 500 elephant-kin, and 150 dwarves were captured by broods of the Fanged State., with over 1,000 dead enemy combatants. About 1,500 ivories were allowed escape behind the Crytalbeard’s boom wall. The Queen Mother and Meira ride silently towards the command post, the smell of death and decay heavy on the field. The clerics of the Fanged State will be hard at work to prevent the rise of undead. The more likely outcome is that a mage of some kind will pay for the rights to any dead enemy combatants, while the other will be treated and mourned by their compatriots. The Queen Mother and Meira arrive at the command post, entering Isilynor’s private quarters.
Meira: Mother, thank you for sparing their lives and saving as many as you could. I know you're under pressure to apeas the Fanged State, but it was the right…
Isilynor: I grow tired of you ignoring my orders and doing as you wish. What you did out there caused the deaths of two of your brothers, my children. The only reason you haven’t been banished, or even killed, is because of who you are. I’ve granted you this small act of kindness, but the traditions of the Fanged State must be upheld.
Meira: What do you mean mother?
Isilynor: You and I will hunt down the mother elephant-kin, and serve her as we receive Talon and his attaché. We will observe the traditions of the scales, and hunt the ivory, bringing her down together.
Meira: I… I won’t. I can’t. You can’t expect me to do something so heinous? What about her children? What will you do with them.
Isilynor: They will join the others as troops loyal to me and the thorned throne. At this moment, my men are preparing for the hunt. You have no more authority, so do not attempt to use your position. We will hunt in the morning, and you will slay the beast, along with any thoughts of not following my will in the future. Do I make myself clear!
Meira: But mother, you can’t do this! This is monst…
Isilynor: DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!
Meira: Ye… yes, Queen Mother.
Isilynor: Good. Sergeant!
Wood Elf Sergeant: Yes Queen Mother.
Isilynor: Take the princess to her quarters. Confine her there till I come for her.
Wood Elf Sergeant: Yes Queen Mother!
After entering the quarters of the Queen Mothers, the Wood Elf sergeant escorts Meira out, and to her own quarters. Guards posted at her tent, Meira begins pacing anxiously around, racking her mind with options. What will she do? Will she stay loyal, and go through with the hunt, murdering an innocent, or will she flee under the cover of night. How will the story of Meira, brightmaid princess of Glorandal Taure, heir to the thorned throne, and daughter of Queen Mother Isilynor end? A roll of the dice awaits my friends, and now the story is yours to tell.
