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Waverider Story - Campaign - Author's Notes

# Sea Elves

Elves sailing the world on living ships.

Story
The night air was warm and heavy with salt. Navaron Serith leaned against the railing of the Silverwake, watching the sails above him shift from green to gold in the moonlight. The ship whispered softly, its leaves rustling with the wind, and the crew moved with the rhythm of a song older than memory. Children darted between the ropes, chasing one another, while the elders sat cross-legged on deck, singing the Currentsongs that carried the day's course into history.
Far off, lanterns flickered, another float drifting into sight. A cheer went up, and soon the two floats drew close, tying lines and boards until their decks touched and an island was formed. Within moments, laughter spilled across the water, drums beating, and dancers twirled on the planks. Strangers became kin, lovers met beneath the sails, and cups of spiced kelp-wine passed hand to hand.
Serith closed his eyes, listening to the mingled voices rise with the tide. To the Tuarela, the sea was endless, but nights like this reminded them it was never lonely.

Story
The storm rose without warning, tearing the night sky with jagged light. The Starbough heaved against the waves, its living hull groaning like a wounded beast. Navaron Elirah stood at the prow, hair plastered to her face, shouting orders into the roar. Children clung to the rigging, eyes wide, while the crew hauled at the leaf-sails that snapped like thunder in the wind.
A scream split the gale - a boy had been swept from the deck. Without hesitation, his sister dived into the black waters, vanishing beneath the surge. For a heartbeat the crew faltered, fear rooting them, until Elirah's voice cut through: "Hold fast! Trust the sea!"
Moments later, the girl surfaced, dragging her brother by the collar, both gasping for breath. Ropes were thrown, hands pulled them aboard, and the Starbough rolled onward into the chaos. Then, suddenly, silence. The clouds broke above them to reveal a circle of stars, and the sea calmed to glass.
The crew gathered on deck, drenched and shivering, not in relief but in dread. They had not lost a soul, yet the sails were torn and branches scarred. Elirah placed a hand on the wounded wood and began to sing. One by one the others joined, voices hoarse yet steady, binding crew and ship alike for the fury that still waited on the far side of the eye of the storm.

Riding out a storm

Story
The Moonpath drifted into the shallows of Coralwyn, its golden sails catching the morning light. On the reef ahead, the elves of the village waited, their huts shining in the sun. Merfolk circled below, their laughter bubbling up through the waves.
Lines were thrown, and soon the Tuarela were swimming to the sand beach, greeted with garlands of shell-flowers and cups of sweet foam-wine. Children of both peoples leapt into the lagoon, racing side by side through the water while merfolk darted between them like streaks of silver. Drums began to beat, answered by the deep thrum of conch shells from below, and the sea itself seemed to sway with the rhythm.
Navaron Serith clasped hands with Coralwyn's Tidewarden, both smiling as if no empire or pirate fleet had ever cast a shadow over their seas. That night, the reef rang with voices, Tuarela songs rising to the stars, merfolk choirs echoing from beneath, and Coralwyn dancers weaving between both. For a brief, shining span of hours, the ocean held only kinship.

Calm seas

# Description

The sea elves, who call themselves the Tuarela, are a nomadic people whose lives are bound to the open waters. Their homes are the living ships known as Sylirith, grown from enchanted wood coaxed into hull and sail by master shapers. Each vessel is alive, drinking form the ocean, nourished by care and song. The leaves that serve as sails shift color with the seasons, from emerald green to deep gold, making each ship unique.

## Ships and Families

A ship is more than a vessel: it is a family, a hearth, and a history. Most crews number between twenty and fifty, all kin by blood or by oath. The captain, called Navaron, is elected by the crew for as long as trust holds. They command not by decree but by respect and consensus. Should faith falter, a new vote is held.

Children are raised on deck and learn to climb the rigging before they can walk steady. They are taught to read the stars by age seven, to swim the deep currents by age ten, and to steer by both wind and wave by the time they reach their twelfth summer.

When a crew grows too large, a new ship is coaxed into being. Saplings are taken from the ship-tree and grown in sheltered corners of the hull until ready for shaping. This process can take decades, and many captains, such as Navaron Elirah of the ship Wave's Crown, tend multiple saplings, ensuring their people always have room to grow.

### Wood-shapers

The shapers are few, chosen young for their gift to hear the voices of growing wood. Their hands bear calluses not from axes but from years of coaxing sap and leaf into form. Among the Tuarela, they are treated with quiet reverence, for without them no new ship can ever be born.

## Society and Meetings

Most ships travel in convoys of two to five vessels, known as floats. This gives both protection and companionship. When two floats meet on the open sea, they tie their ships together in a great floating city called a Veythar. For days or weeks the sea elves feast, dance, sing, and trade. Betrothals are often made during these gatherings, strengthening bonds across crews.

The Tuarela seldom set sail with a fixed destination. Instead they follow the great winds and currents, letting the sea carry them where it will. Only when a place calls to them, a friendly coast, a favored market, or the promise of a Veythar, do they shift their course with quiet adjustments. To them, the journey itself is the life, and any shore they reach is simply another chapter in the long song of the sea.

## Faith and Belief

The sea elves honor the World Tree, which they call Anirel, the Eternal Mast sailing through the ocean of stars. They believe every ship is a reflection of this great voyage. Alongside Anirel, they venerate many lesser gods:

- Lethara, goddess of safe harbors and motherhood
- Corvian, god of winds and sudden storms
- Tiryl, the healer who taught elves and merfolk how to share their gifts
- Selunar, keeper of the moonlit tides, prayed to by navigators
- Anariel-din, son of Anariel, and the one who taught how to shape ship-trees

Priests are rare, for every Navaron is expected to speak for the gods when needed.

Resting for the night

## Relations with Others

The Tuarela are famed navigators, charting the vast tropical oceans: the Opal Sea, Sapphire Sea, Pearl Sea, Sun Sea, Sunsleep Sea, Sunhome Sea, and the Myrrwhaters. They do not raid nor take slaves, for life aboard a ship leaves no room for cruelty or idleness.

They are on friendly terms with the merfolk, often trading medicines, healing magics, and companionship. Sea elves also maintain a wary non-aggression tradition with the pirate fleets. Though no love is lost between them, both share common enemies and the need for safe harbors free from imperial patrols.

Their ships are welcome in most coastal markets, where pearls and rare spices are traded. They avoid the Great Empire, whose ships attack them on sight, and are wary of the curse of Morvelyn.

One thing never traded is their navigation charts, considered a sacred secret never shared with non-Tuarela.

## Warfare

The Tuarela avoid war, but the sea demands vigilance. Their ships carry few weapons beyond bows strung with sinew and long spears used for fishing and boarding. Battle, when it comes, is fought with cunning rather than brute force. A Tuarela crew will slip into reefs known only to them, lure pursuers into shallows, or vanish into sudden squalls. And when guile is not needed, they simply unfurl their living sails - for the Sylirith are faster than any ship built by human hands, able to leave even pirates straining far behind.

## Culture and Memory

Sea elves tell their history not in books but in Currentsongs, long chants sung together while sailing, each verse recounting voyages, storms, battles, and loves lost to the sea. A ship without its songs is considered dead, even if the wood still floats.

Their greatest insult is to call someone dirt-walker, a term meaning they have forgotten how to move with the currents of life.

## Possible Secrets

### Living hearts of the ships

Every Sylirith has a hidden heartwood deep inside its hull, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. If the heart is cut out or stolen, the ship withers and dies. Only the shapers know how to tend these hearts.

### Forbidden charts

The Tuarela claim never to trade their maps, but some whisper that a few charts exist in the vaults of the Great Empire, stolen long ago from a wrecked ship-tree, and guarded more closely than any crown jewel.

### The curse of anchoring

It is said that a ship left moored too long to stone harbors will sicken, its leaves browning and sails drooping. Some believe this is why the Tuarela are forever moving.

### Blood in the wood

Legends say the first Sylirith did not grow only from saplings, but also from the blood of those who offered their lives to Anariel-din. A few shapers quietly claim the practice was never abandoned.

### The drowned songs

Beneath certain reefs lie the echoes of Currentsongs never sung again. To listen is to hear the memory of ships lost, and some Tuarela fear that singing those verses could call the dead back.

## Adventure Hooks

### The Stolen Heirloom

During a Veythar, a treasured family relic, a carved lodestone said to have guided generations, vanishes. Accusations ripple through the floats, and the Navaron hires outsiders to find the thief before the gathering breaks apart in mistrust.

### The Drifting Child

A small child is found clinging to wreckage at sea. None of the Tuarela claim them, yet the child speaks their tongue and knows verses from the Currentsongs. Who are they, and how did they come to be adrift?

### The Empty Ship

A Sylirith is found adrift with its sails full and its hull intact, but not a soul aboard. The crew's belongings remain, meals half-eaten, and the leaves whisper strangely in the wind. The Tuarela ask for help to discover what happened.

### The Pirate Pact

A pirate fleet breaks the long-standing non-aggression tradition and attacks a float. The Tuarela call on outsiders to mediate or strike back, before open conflict spreads across the seas.

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