Avant Tulurane

House of Tulurane

Upon the shores of Lake Tulurane Lord Josephiox Navareaux declared his love eternal for the Lady Nalione daughter of Lord Evanmont. Her brothers came to meet him and each one fell to Navareaux, the gilless knight of caravans. Her father arrived and demanded championship, selecting a strong soldier from his guard. But Navareaux smote him on the field of honor and won the right to request the hand of lady Nalione. When she accepted, her father granted them the land surrounding the lake with the requirement that Navareaux renounce his family name, long known for its cursed heritage. So came forth the House of Tulurane, the house of blood and water, the house of hidden curses. Lord Tulurane had a son, Larumont Tulurane who served the Twin Adders bravely then wedding Avionette and had a son, Avant. Lord Josephiox Tulurane died a madman, single-handedly attacking a caravan in Ul'dah. Avionette succumbed to strange sickness akin to a fever and died in Avant's youth. His own father was killed in a drunken duel with a Seawolf on the docks below Limsa Lominsa. The Dowager Dame Nalione Tulurane resides still over the household In all the sun's unruly days aloft In all the moon's unquiet dark and lost What lovely flower bursts anew and bright Doth not a wilted thing arise and die Had I a moment more to pass with thee Or in thy sleep to sing a sweet goodbye And therein leave these lost mysteries three 'Ere I ungentle bleed my life and flee Wherein pain there may be nectar hidden Wherein sweet there may be teeth unbidden What tempting path a love forbidden thee If you the moon would fling careless away If you the sun would exile to the day My heart awaits between their willful poles In a land unknown to lovers content Amid veils and phrases torn and sharp rent Where dusk arrives first to the mind and soul If you would seek me even unto there What unbalanced dreams might we make living A waking moonless midnight love affair Forever sweet harming and forgiving - Josephiox Du Tulurane

Honors of Avant

A bit of something regarding various levels in various things

Scion of the Burning Moon

Oi say to 'e them sand seer's long ago curses lie hard in the blood. Thems'll follow ya from lover to babe to lover to babe an on an onward. This one what I hear tell is that curse of the burning moon, the night that is the day. Every harm bears with it some hope and every help is a drop of poison; that even a blade might love its target and the strongest heal might doom as well. - Larrie Halfgil, trader on the sand

The Wandering Prince

A bit of poetry and stuff

Credit

After long study into the arcane writings of those strange symbols fraught with meaning, desperate recountings from monkish labor bent to the desk, a crafter to the oars, my thanks to the wellspring of these glyphs. Aerius Destroven