Xiddik looks around warily. This place feels far less welcoming than the last elven city she visited, and even that one's welcome had worn out by the end.
Randall studies the actions of the other elves as they enter, trying to note what is proper. Deciding that mimicking Lord Villastir is a fair choice, he stops a few steps behind their guide and tries to bow in a similar fashion. She's no crime boss, but I'll bet she wants to hear the same sort of thing from one like me.
"Beautiful and powerful queen. Members of the court. Our apologies for any disruption we have caused, for that was not our intent. We are many miles from our intended destination. We have been on a mission for Lady Eviana of Crying Leaf into the dark below. We were forced to retreat and had to blindly use the portals we found in hopes they would return us to the surface. I'm happy to see the sun, and a small part of the beauty of Kyonin, no less, but we still need to return to Crying Leaf and would prefer not to trouble you overmuch." He bows again once he is done.
Jametor studies the Queen as Randall talks.
Asht'el, having artfully arranged his hair and smoothed his robes using subtle magics, joins the others in bowing deeply to the queen. "Is it as my friend says," he informs her politely, "we were in service to the elves of Crying Leaf, fighting against creatures of darkness, and the only exit from their lands we were able to find brought us here. We have no wish to be a burden, but would appreciate any help you can offer in returning us to Lady Eviana."
Xiddik gives a small curtsy, speaking in Elven. "I am not in current service for Lady Eviana, but have been working for her for much time now. I guide those as wishing to traverse the deeps, keeping them from stumbling in a hole they aught skip past. What the little one says is true. I know you must be strangers to the dark, and if Kyonin wishes to stay as much, we should be sent on our way to continue the fight before the fight gets bored and comes looking for us."
Queen Telandia Edasseril inclines her head solemnly as the group makes their introductions, and motions them to rise. "We should like to hear your tale, if you are willing. Our advisors should like to hear them as well, as there are many rumors floating about the palace about our 'strange visitors'." She gives a slightly apologetic smile at the last phrase, then turns to look at Villastir, who has taken up a position on her right-hand side.
Taking a moment to clear his throat, the tall elf glances over the group before he begins. "How did you activate the dormant aiudara?" he asks.
”Uh, umm…” Njord mumbles.
Asht'el looks around uncertainly. Activate the what now? I'm guessing he means the gate, but I didn't even know the thing had to be activated, we just stepped through it.
Randall gives a helpless shrug, glancing at Jametor, before opening his mouth, thinking better of it, and shrugging again.
Jametor thinks for a moment and the speaks.
"The Elf-gate at Celwynvian was activated by several mages and a priestess, though I am not sure what any of them did. The dormant gate, as you refer to it, we just walked in, it was active, but it wasn't the first one we traveled from the Darklands. The first one, pointed out by a powerful wizardess and the First Daughter of House Vonnarc, not the house who attacked Celwynvian though, took us into Kobold territory."
He pauses and looks over the attendees and the back to the queen.
"Queen Telandia Edasseril, when we first arrived we were met with disbelief of our tale, that the drow weren't a threat. While we are many miles from our intended target, I cannot believe the Queen of Elves doesn't know what goes on at Celwynvian. Of course, I confess, my knowledge of Elven...culture...is full of holes. Are you aware of the drow plan to bring another starfall, of their success around Riddleport? I'd rather you be informed by us, the group who defeated them, than by gossip and rumor and stories." as he mentions the group he turns and looks at his companions.
"Lies! It was not active!" exclaims Villastir as Jametor is still speaking. "Just walked in? The gate you 'just walked' out of has been dormant for many years! That's a bad enough lie to tell our Queen, but you would add to it! Tell me... how difficult is it to 'defeat' a myth?"
The queen's brows knit slightly. "Let him finish, Lord Villastir," she says quietly. The tall advisor purses his lips and gives the group a hard stare, as if daring you to 'finish' the tale.
Jametor stares at Lord Villastir.
"I am many things Lord Villastir, but a liar is not one. I am unclear on what you are objecting, so I'll debate the points I just made. First, the starfall outside of Riddleport is easy to verify with outside sources, it almost destroyed the town and destroyed the docks mostly. As for the attack on Celwynvian, that is also easily verified by any number of means, as is our role in the defeat of the drow there too. If you are debating the existence of drow, I think the little boy who travels with us, proves our point. Now, you can believe us or not. I know there were many who did not believe the predictions during the first starfall, but did so at their own demise." he stares at Lord Villastir for a moment then turns and addresses the queen directly.
"Queen Edasseril, I do not claim to know what is happening here in this forest or what might have happened since we left for the Darklands. What I do know is this. My friends, no, my family, odd as it is, have stood against the tide of evil and hate and survived. We've answered the call of Lady Eviana several times. You may believe or disbelieve, but trust this once simple scribe of the Arcanamirium, this group of people have saved thousands or even more. We have thwarted several attacks by drow and demons and even a Retriever. All this can be verified, it is not in dispute. If all that is true, would we benefit from telling you a lie that we just walked through an active Elf-gate. By the way, we also discovered the one in Riddleport. It resides under the casino that we run. At least we used to run before we started running all over the world killing drow." Jametor smiles and inclines his head toward the queen.
Xiddik doesn't understand half of what Jamdor Jametor is saying, but she nods, giving a grim smile. This time, she speaks in Common, largely addressing the adviser. "What your brother says is true. Spent my whole life in the deep places, and I think any creature down there you speak to laughs at your talk of 'myths'. Then eats you, as they are aft to do. What know you of these obsidian-skinned myths, elf? How deep do your people travel into the Black Earth? Do indeed travel at all?"
Njord frowns at the implication that he and his friends were lying. He nods in agreement with Jametor and Xiddik.
”Now wait a minute. What myth? Are you denyin’ the Darklands? Are you denyin’ the dark elves?”
The big man looks to the rest of the elves assembled for court. ”We’ve seen it all and it’s no myth. It’s real and it’s comin’ for you.”
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Randall ticks off on his fingers. "One. Perhaps the gate you said was dormant is only an exit. Do you have guards posted there? If not, how did you know we were coming? Have you tried sending anyone back through it yet? I suggest they travel in numbers and that they return as soon as they know whether it works or not. Further exploration at this point is unnecessary and would be a good way to lose good warriors."
"Two. I have lost count of how many drow we have seen, fought, and killed in the last few days. They are real and they are a threat. Perhaps you will be comforted to know that they bleed just like anyone on the surface, but I've seen my friends' magic roll off them like water. The fine crossbow and bolts that you took from me at the gate was an unintented gift from one. Your weaponsmiths can attest to its unusual make. If you claim them to be a myth merely because you lack evidence, I submit that you just haven't been looking in the right places. Lady Eviana can certainly attest to the number of elves that have died at the hands and blades of drow in recent months."
"Three. The only thing blacker than a drow's skin is his heart. They make the crimelords of Riddleport look positively charitable. Their civilization is centered around a family structure complete with spoiled rich kids at the top and slaves of all stripes at the bottom. They routinely engage in torture - either by participating or observing - for their enjoyment. They have developed magic to warp the flesh and bone and mind of creatures, purely for their own enjoyment. They consider anything that is not a drow as so many pets to be controlled and destroyed on a whim. They worship demons and appear to gain benefits from doing so. Ladies and gentlemen, the city we saw is a chamber of horrors. It appears to be one of many such."
"I am still not entirely clear why the First Daughter let us go - not that she made it easy for us to escape - but I think I believe her when she says that the House trying to engineer another Starfall is another House trying to destroy everything on the surface so they can reclaim what they feel is rightfully theirs. She doesn't want them to succeed because she doesn't want them to become more powerful. It's a classic power play I've seen in Riddleport, but it's on a much larger scale. Whatever her reasons, she allowed us to escape and she told us about the first gate we used to get away." He pauses to emphasize that last point as he realizes its import. "They know about the gates. It's just a matter of time before they use the first gate to find the second and appear here. And I don't think it is their style to appear with an army. They will come in small groups and use the darkness of night to their advantage. Maybe she already knows about the second gate and activated it for our escape." He shrugs, "I wouldn't put anything past her - but she did it for her own reasons, I'm sure."
"What does it take to activate a gate, Lord Villastir? I am sure you know more about it than I do. Is it a spell? A ritual? Maybe a key you carry?"
Asht'el listens raptly to Randall's explanation of all they have lived through recently, nodding along eagerly. He feels there's nothing at all he can add to such a convincing case, so he just turns to see what the elven lord and his queen have to say in response.
Njord continues to nod in agreement.
Villastir scoffs during Jametor's answer to the queen, saying things like "Oh dear, no!", "They run a gambling den; how noble!", or "The sky is falling!". At one point he turns to another of the advisers with a slight smirk, explaining cheerfully in an undertone, "It is well-known that there have never been any aiudarot in Riddleport, of course."
The queen seems mildly amused by Lord Villastir's antics, but her expression is primarily one of boredom as Jametor and Xiddik speak. Villastir gives a soft snort at Xiddik's words, not even deigning to criticize them, but at Njord's outburst he laughs aloud. "Dark elves? Isn't everything 'dark' underground? Though why you'd imagine seeing elves down there, I couldn't begin to guess..." He turns to the other advisers, then reconsiders and addresses the queen. His voice is full of mock horror. "My Queen, we must evacuate the city immediately! The 'dark elves' are coming for us! Calistria save us, before it's too late!"
The queen raises an eyebrow slightly and makes a calming motion. "Let them continue," she orders, her expression of boredom returning. Villastir turns back to the group and waits, but jumps in before Randall has said more than a few sentences. "Oh, I wish we'd thought of sending men back through it — oh wait, we did think of it, but you cannot enter an inactive aiudara!"
The queen's brows knit together slightly, disrupting her bored expression for a moment as she once again instructs Lord Villastir to be quiet. This time he does so, though any number of times during Randall's speech he opens his mouth quickly as if to respond.
When Randall finishes speaking, Villastir lets out a long-suffering sigh. The other advisers proceed to ask questions of the group, mostly about points that have been covered previously, but none are quite as abrasive as Villastir. When the advisers have finished their questions, the queen continues to watch the group quietly for a long moment, apparently lost in thought. Finally, Villastir taps her lightly on the hand and asks, "My queen?"
"Oh," says Telandia, coming alert. "Our apologies. We were leagues away. Well. Your tale is surely riveting, and certainly one worthy of the bards, with a bit of polish. Villastir, perhaps they can return to Kyonin to tell it again some time... perhaps next year at the midsummer feast. Please make the arrangements."
She turns back to the group after this subtle dismissal of the noble, who flushes with embarrassment before stiffly bowing and then briskly leaving the hall. Telandia watches his exit with a slight smile, waiting for him to be gone before she speaks again.
"Thank you so much for visiting us today. We cannot remember when we have been so entertained — though perhaps the next time you tell this tale you should add in some dragons, and perhaps a captive princess, with a handsome suitor who comes to her rescue. And perhaps leave out all that distasteful nonsense about falling stars; you must consider the sensibilities of your audience, after all."
She pauses, as if considering. "In any event, we shall take your tale under advisement. Kyonin's seers and diviners are second to none, and given time we trust that they shall secure the truth of these matters. The divinations may take some time, perhaps a week. Until such time as they are ready to advise us further, I invite you to remain in Iadara at the accommodations we have provided you. You may take these next days to rest and relax and recover from your ordeals — when we have our reports from our diviners, we wish to speak with you again on what might be done if, Calistria forfend, your tales are as true as you fear."
With a royal nod, the audience is over.
Chewing on the inside of his cheek to stifle a response, Randall bows to the queen and backs a few steps toward the door before he turns around to exit the chamber.
Jametor keeps his own council until the group is alone.
Still unaccustomed to the very strange sense of time that elves have, Asht'el is about to object. A week! Can't they just take us at our word, that this stuff is real? He notes, however, that his companions who have been doing the talking have gone quiet, and decides to follow their lead.
With a shrug at Firiel, he turns and moves to leave the queen's audience chamber, hoping for a quiet place where they can all sit down and figure out what to do next.
Fíriel meets Asht'el's gaze and shrugs back, though she tips her head to indicate Randall and makes an impressed face, as if to say, Wasn't he great?
On the walk back to the room, Jametor's eyes blaze with a fiery glint that those who know him mean he is very angry. When the group returns to the room, he stomps into the room and grabs his journal and begins reading. Waiting for the group to settle and the questions of the two left behind to subside, he looks at Randall.
"Randall, did you see the change? There's something not right with the queen." he says.
Xiddik spits. She sounds livid. "It settles. I am worn with dealing with these bat-eared, overbred 'high elves'! Never should have left the deep for their sake. Treacherous, spoiled princelings and princesslings, the lotment of them!"
"What change?" Asht'el asks, "What did you see, Jametor?"
"I saw her mask slip. Folks in charge sometimes have to let their toadies think they are important so they can get them to do what needs to be done. I think the queen believes us, but she dare not give our story weight and anger her court."
"I think she is going to carefully and deliberately find the evidence to back our story. While she's doing that, I have no way to return to Riddleport, so I think we wait. What can we do in Kyonin? Is there maybe magic here you can't get at home? I know I'm in pretty bad shape after that escape - I still feel weak. Hopefully some downtime here will let us get our strength back."
"Oh, speaking of magic - if the gate was not active, how did we wake it up? Is it only open for people carrying something? I don't think the First Daughter gave us something that might be a key. I don't know if she knew about the second gate at all, actually. Maybe the second gate only works when a kobold enters it - but that doesn't seem very elf-like. Wouldn't it be funny if a kobold wizard changed the gate and blocked the elves from using it?"
"Saw it too. She is interested, anyway. Don't know. Don't care."
"I don't want them to be taken unawares because of their skepticism. And I resent that they think we're lying. But yeah, I just want to get back home. I'm more concerned about letting Eviana know what we saw - reporting to the Queen was never in the plan."
"Right now, I just want to rest."
"I need rest and a chance to regain spells. I don't think any of us is in a condition to fight our way out and I don't have enough spells to aid our escape again. I guess this is one time I am glad I was not raised here with people of my own race. I am a bit ashamed of the elves right now." Jametor says sadly.
The rest of the day is uneventful, and the group passes an extremely restful night. The soft sunlight filtering into the tall windows makes for an unobtrusive notification of dawn's arrival, though its presence does not prevent those who wish to sleep in a bit.
Shortly after everyone is stirring, there's a knock at the door. Whoever answers it is met by two elves carrying large trays piled high with food. Breakfast consists of fresh fruit, puffy cinnamon and sugar pastries, hot crepes filled with a creamy sweet cheese and topped with berry compote, and flaky biscuits with a delicious mushroom gravy. Four carafes are also brought in: two of water, one of a light Elven wine, and one of some kind of tart-yet-sweet fruit juice that tingles a bit in the mouth.
Njord sleeps like a baby for the first time in what feels like months as evidenced by his minimal snoring.
When morning comes along with their breakfast, the big ulfen is immediately reminded of the elven people's greatest failing - their food included no meat! Still, the meal is substantial and tasty. Njord eats happily and even though they were less than guests of honor in this strange elven kingdom, it's a beautiful place. He thinks of Sam and how much she'd enjoy seeing it.
"So we've got a week here" he muses while picking pastry crumbs from his beard. "I guess we should look around. It's not everyday a man gets to see a magical elf-kingdom."
"Well I think the first order of business should be to deal with that damage we took from the . I just feel less than normal, even though I have no wounds." Jametor says around a mouthful of pastry.
Asht'el happily gobbles his breakfast, drinking an inordinate amount of the tingly juice. "This stuff is great!" he says, licking his lips and wiggling his cheeks a bit to savor the tingling sensation.
Once he's sated his hunger - and savored eating something grown in sunshine rather than darkness - he concurs with Njord and Jametor. "Yep, I'd like to take a look around too, seems a nice place - though the folks that live here take a bit of getting used to."
After a pause, he adds, "And having a week here will give me a chance to spend some time with Covakis, maybe try to learn a bit of his language, and teach him some of ours. I hope he's better at languages than I am..."
Though her stomach is rumbling painfully, Xiddik eats as conservatively as ever, nibbling at the fruit and her own sparse rations. She still seems cross, her tail twitching rapidly as she silently dines.
Fíriel helps herself to the breakfast, and Prickles doesn't hold back either. The pudgy hedgehog gives a massive yawn as he stretches awake, then trundles over and picks up a pastry nearly as big as he is, dragging it to one side to nibble contentedly.
As everyone (except the hobbits, who are helping themselves to thirds) is finishing breakfast, there's another knock on the door. This time, the visitor is a young elven woman dressed fairly simply. She smiles and inclines her head. "I am Yril Edasserilnîth," she offers. "I hope I'm not bothering you... the queen thought you might wish a guide in the city."
Jametor casts Detect Magic and focuses on the girl.
Randall samples from everything, enjoying the flavor and textures of the new foodstuffs, before deciding on a few favorites and tucking them away with gusto. He teases the hedgehog a bit with more pastry before eating it himself.
Noticing the kobold's choice of breakfast, he asks, "Xiddik, I'm not really familiar with kobolds, so I hope I don't offend you if I ask a question because we obviously approach food differently. Are you able to eat these things," waving a hand over the pastries she seems to be avoiding, "and choose not to, or are they not compatible with the kobold anatomy, or something else? I'm sure you must be more hungry than your breakfast indicates."
When the young woman arrives, he endeavors to complete his swallowing and wash it down with some of the tingle-juice so he can answer without spewing crumbs, "No bother at all! That would be most wonderful, I think. Please, join us!"
The girl chuckles musically as Jametor casts his spell. "Do you find me magical?" she asks with a mischievous wink.
At Randall's words, she smiles. "I'd be happy to do so. Is there anything in particular you would like to see? I'm eager to learn more about you all; I have only met a few non-elves in my life." She smiles apologetically, hesitating. "That is, if you're willing to share. I don't want to pry, of course."
Noticing the kobold's choice of breakfast, he asks, "Xiddik, I'm not really familiar with kobolds, so I hope I don't offend you if I ask a question because we obviously approach food differently. Are you able to eat these things," waving a hand over the pastries she seems to be avoiding, "and choose not to, or are they not compatible with the kobold anatomy, or something else? I'm sure you must be more hungry than your breakfast indicates."
Xiddik looks up at Randall. She hesitates. "Can eat this food. Don't." She pokes at one of the pastries, tail vibrating. "Just because surface dwellers will tongue at any bright color mushroom you trip over..." She swallows. "Learn to be careful, down in the deep. Only takes one bite of a bad food and in comes the white light."
The girl chuckles musically as Jametor casts his spell. "Do you find me magical?" she asks with a mischievous wink.
At Randall's words, she smiles. "I'd be happy to do so. Is there anything in particular you would like to see? I'm eager to learn more about you all; I have only met a few non-elves in my life." She smiles apologetically, hesitating. "That is, if you're willing to share. I don't want to pry, of course."
** spoiler omitted **
Xiddik looks up sharply. She eyes the elf.
A change seems to come over the surly kobold. Her posture straightens, and she gives a toothy smile that's only a little bit unnerving. "Only a few non-elves, Yril? You have spent a long time here. A loyal slave...no. Ugh." She scowls. "Been dealing with too many elf ways of speaking. It is...pet? No. Ser...servile. You are a loyal servile to the House Edrassil." She clears her throat. "Apologies. You are a loyal servile to stay here so long. It must be exciting to now have such a strange lot in your place. Please, sit. Eat. Is clear you have much curiosity of us." She sounds out the word. "What questions have you?"
Keeping his Detect Magic up, he concentrates more on the necklace. Once completed he sweeps the room carefully, ashamed he didn't do it the very first thing.
Randall raises an eyebrow, but moves to provide her with a place to sit. "Yes, we are in no rush and have nowhere to go, so please, make yourself comfortable. What would you ask us?"
He proceeds to finish his thirds and consider fourths. Xiddik isn't eating her share, after all, and if he can help avoid offending their hosts, it would only be right...