Crossing to Aeloriandor

Ervenian Era, 1051 AB
The Crossing to Aeloriandor is a myth among sailors and Bards about the passage into Aeloriandor, the mythical lands. This not a normal route, but a peril - a beautiufl hazard set to sift the bold from the merely reckless.   The Daoin Quessir call it Iath Aelor; The Doli-Quessiri, call it Nertëa Cuivië, while the rest pilots of the Sea of Wrath, call it The Starward Corssing. Even with Royal Leave from Owhain, the sea keep its trial due to the the Obelisks of Aeloriandor.  

Three Lawful Ways

Those who wish to leave with permission can try to do one of the following, while the others, attempt and none ever testified, that they happened to wagered their ship against the appetitie of the hedge.  
The Whale-Road
The Doli-Quessiri scouts ahead while whales take station beneath. The sailors will hear a song, often called the Song of Welcoming, for which the sailors should not answer with horns but with silence until the third cadence.
 
The Star-Path
The Daoin writ of passage, which dictate that you should steer by seven named Stars that the Daoin, do not teach to pronounce. The stars test the heart of every crew. Some glow where none shone before; others vanish when a lie is spoken. Voices rise from the waves, loved ones, promises, temptations, begging to be answered. The sea listens. Those who yield are drawn beneath, following false constellations into silence.  
The Wind-Stair
For those who can fly, espacially Ethil-Quessiri, the wind-avenues become corridors. Clouds arch like torii; pass beneath three, never five. When frost blooms on the inside of the visor, speak the name of the mountain you love and descend one measure... Pride is heavier than air.  

Those who trespass

There is a Watcher at the Margin, not beast, not wave, but a habit of the water that remembers insults. It stirs when oaths against Elvenkind are made lightly or songs are shouted at the bell. It cannot be slain; it can be appeased with silence, or misled by humility. Those who taunt it are found years later with dry ropes and wet lungs, their charts immaculate and useless.

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