Lureene is stunned to hear the Knight-Captain will not be accompanying her and the others to Darfar. And 'Lis knew about this before she told me? Why did she not tell me? She remembers when she had first seen the Knight-Captain, it was at the Silver Hart Inn, and she had asked him about the gnome Strae-hun. She idly wondered what had ever happened to him, after he had left her.
Hearing Felmor is heading to see Alexis and Rath-hun fills her heart with a sense of longing, as she realized now how much she missed him. Rath-hun was her anchor, and although she was growing in confidence in her abilities, she knew there were times where she had made mistakes, and she missed his wisdom and his guiding words. How will I ever find Father if I am so careless and flighty?
Priyya's response brought her back to reality, and she ventures, "Priyya, I think in a way you are a retainer to Princess Alis, although you say you are not. I believe this is one of those noble customs which I know you are not used to. Alis does not mean to insult you or demean you by paying you for your services, keep that in mind, OK?"
Priyya looks at Lureene coolly, "I'm very clear on what a retainer is. By any definition, it is one who works for another... an interpretation underscored by the fact that we are talking about 'wages'. I am Surya-ka-Vahaak, I am a retainer to Alita ONLY and without exception. To suggest otherwise could be seen as an insult. I travel with Alis but I do not work for her, even if our goals are the same."
Priyya turns her head to view the architecture, pointedly signifying her conversation on the subject with Lureene is at an end. Inwardly she fumes, honor insulted. Take the hint, girl. This matter isn't your concern or your business.
Alis doesn't seem to be offended at all by Priyya's objection. She nods slowly at the Surya-ka-Vahaak's words and gives Lureene a small wave to indicate that it is alright.
"You are right, of course, Priyya. Please forgive my poor choice of words, and hear me out..."
"Priyya," she considers her words carefully so as not to offend her friend's honor and also to set Lureene straight, "there are other members of Alíta's clergy such as we met back in Valehaven who are associated with a fixed location. In doing their goddess' work in this world, the people of this world tithe and give offerings. Neither Alíta nor any other spiritual being needs coin or jewels. Such resources are used to build temples, yes, but those offerings are also used to support the clergy's worldly requirements and so that they can in turn give alms to those desperately in need of them."
"I admit that I am not terribly familiar with the customs of the Xerakai so please do not take offense when I speak the customs of my culture..."
"My house has always given of their wealth to help support the churches of the deities principal to our culture. As you say, you are a retainer of Alíta. That is her sword at your hip, her bow on your back."
"Just as Bishop Tredônia uses the cathedral in Valehaven and its relics as tools to carry out Alíta's works, that sword and bow are two of the tools by which you do the same. If there is a chance to improve those tools, that means greater potential to do more and greater deed in Alíta's honor."
She pauses for a moment to collect her thoughts before continuing. "I have no idea what churches exist in Dafar. Rather than tithing to a church that I know nothing about, I would rather be true to my house's tradition of supporting those faiths that are central to our culture."
"Right now, Alíta has set you on this path to walk with me. If that is not a sign of a deity's support, then I am at a loss for what is. Please then, consider this not as wages but rather as a donation to support the church of Alíta. If you deem it best to give that monetary donation to the poor, to donate it at Alíta's shrine at the pantheon here in Malatesta, or to equip the Surya-ka-Vahaak for further danger on the road ahead of her, no one may tell a church how to make use of the donations they have been given."
"Likewise, should you prefer that members of your own faith see to the enhancement of Alíta's weapons then I completely understand and would support that. I would not have it said that Ilmarond and House Kirmoon take the support of the gods for granted. I would not have it said that we are so miserly or negligent to have a servant of the gods walk by our side into danger without showing the same regard for their well-being and their cause that they have shows to us and ours. To do otherwise would create an unequal situation and place us in Alíta's debt..."
"You say that my house is too generous. I would contend that we should be more-so. The worth of the gods' support cannot be easily measured, but I assure you that it is certainly not less than the worth of mortal retainers. If I could, I would increase the donation to your cause, but even the grandest of undertakings must be budgeted for..."
Sense Motive Checks:
Priyya bows, "I cannot object to any gift to my church or my Goddess particularly one that assists me in serving both more effectively. I thank you and your House for your steadfast support. I'm humbly sorry if I sounded angry; I truly was not so. I was merely concerned that you thought we had a Lord/Retainer relationship... a relationship that would compromise my commitment to Alita. You can well imagine how unacceptable that is."
How can this be more tiring than being on the trail? Mal thinks to himself as he sits back, stretching muscles that have grown tense while huddled over the work bench clearly made for a human of less than six feet... much less his full seven.
He smiles despite the fatigue, as he only has about an hour until his vest is done, the magic weavings being just as taxing as the physical construction. Looking on it now, however, he can already feel it's comfortable power emanating from the leather, almost as if it pulsed in a primal counter-point to his own heartbeat.
His excitement abates a shred when he catches the piles of materials on two other shelves in he workroom. It's gonna be a long two days. he thinks with a sigh, and goes back to his work.
It is some late hour after midnight; Priyya finds sleep elusive. She throws on a robe and roams the halls, her bare feet slapping the floors softly.
She eventually finds herself near the crafting workshops and hears swearing in a voice she recognizes. She peeks into a lab and finds Mal hard at work, looking weary. She sneaks in trying not to disturb him... not quiet enough. Mal looks up. Priyya nods then enters fully. She lays a glowing hand on his shoulder - dispelling his fatigue - before she hops up on a table in the corner.
"Sorry to disturb, Mal. Mind if I watch? I won't say a word."
Lureene knows time is short, and she had a lot of work to do over the next couple of days. She recalls the gentle reminder of Alis, who suggested she use this time wisely to prepare some scrolls before their departure to Darfar. Still, she knows the Knight-Captain will be departing in the morning, and she did not know what message to give to Rath-hun.
She fingers her ring gently, amazed at how it seems to have melded to her finger as if it had always been there. Felmor had asked for any messages to be composed for him to be delivered before his departure, but still she did not know what to say to Rath-hun, words did not describe how much she missed him. Tears started to form again in her eyes, and she brushed them away, like she had done many times earlier on the group's journey from Caen Carrinac.
She asks one of the local retainers for the location of the Knight-Captain. Seeing this was a companion of the Princess Alissariel, he quickly escorts her to where Felmor is busy reviewing his orders. When Lureene presence is announced to him, he waves her inside...
Felmor looks up from his desk where he is studying the latest documents provided by Princess Larathiel, and nods to Lady Ourson, although she can see he has a troubled look in his eyes. Still, his voice betrays nothing of his turmoil as he asks quietly, "Is there something I kin do fer ye, Lureene?'
She responds quietly, almost in a whisper, "Knight-Captain, I wish for you to deliver a message for me to Ravarath."
Felmor nods at her to proceed, where she walks slowly over to him, and holds out her left hand, indicating her 'Engagement Band'. His look is questionong, but he soon nods in comprehension at her words,
"Please tell him that I still wear his ring, and I pray he still wears my ring."
Felmor smiles, although it is tinged with sadness, and replies, "Aye, milady, consider yer words delivered to his ears."
He gets up and then gives Lureene a hug, and says to her, "I be glad ta know ye, Lureene. Please take care o' the ladies fer me."He releases her, and says, "Please excuse me, Lureene, I have much work ta do afer I leave."
He escorts her out if his room, and closes the door behind him.
"Really?" Alis had asked at the Tabernacle of Glory, the temple dedicated to Alíta and her husband, Lakonus, within Malatesta's Pantheon district. The princess' surprise had been peaked when she learned that Priyya was willing to spend all that she had on a nigh priceless relic that would greatly bolster her ability to roll back the tide of death.
Having had some notion of spending the following few days hunting thru Malatesta's vast markets for exciting treasures, Alis was amazed by Priyya's decisiveness. This was no idle fancy or mere opportunistic whim. She did not need to turn any cards to know that this relic, this phylactery was meant to rest upon the brow of the Surya-ka-Vahaak.
Without another word, the princess had simply nodded in understanding, and motioned to the stoic dwarven butler, Giles, to come forward bearing the chest he carried full of gold bars. Although he old dwarf always looked rather hunch-backed, even Lureene could tell that he was a good bit lighter on his feet after that transaction, much moreso than after having purchased a few wands.
Not one to head back empty-handed, the princess had also made a donation to the church for the purpose of acquiring another healing wand along with a crystal one of the priests said would provide a modicum of protection against negative energy. After having attached it to her bracers, she remarked, "I'm quite certain Mal has little intention of leaving the peaceful quiet of the embassy with bustling streets like this everywhere. Poor guy is probably going to bored like a cat in a box. Oooh, I know! I think I have a few things to keep him busy and make his life a bit easier..."
Over drinks that night, the princess had seemed quite pleased to inform her bodyguard that he could enhance the enchantment on her bracers with a new spell she bought for Lureene. "I'm also going to go shopping for a new belt. Then you can enspell that to help increase my agility! What better for a bodyguard than to have a charge who is hard-to-hit, right Priyya?"
In spite of the fact that looking on Alis' excitement was akin to staring at the Sun, Priyya could practically hear the sound of Mal's claws scoring deep grooves on his chair. He was also ruing his offer to buy tonight's drinks when Alis hailed their private serving girl at one of Malatesta's oldest and most elite pubs calling to open a vintage that was probably older than Yvonne. At least the view from their private balcony allowed the tall warrior to look out at the cliffs and the plains to the north without being surrounded by 'people of quality' other than those with whom he traveled.
Felmor had selected a seat opposite him, with Lureene in between them, Alis to his right, and then Priyya seated between the princess and her bodyguard. Gazing the in the opposite direction in which the tall warrior looked, he and his Captain remarked often on the various ships visible in Malatesta's impressive harbor. He had been a bit glad for the distraction as well, since it kept him from having to look at her and the woman who would always be his 'Desert Rose' just beside her.
Thankfully, Priyya had not been apt to make eye-contact with him. Instead she had preferred to level more than a few cutting jokes at Lureene who seemed largely not to notice... save for when Alis failed to maintain a straight face. One more day around the people he had traveled with for nearly two months. Was that really all the longer it had been? The sailor reflected ruefully on something the princess had said once, 'Even a few seconds in a maelstrom can seem like an eternity.'
Aye Cap'n ye gots that right.
It was rather late on Lakusday when everyone had finally returned to the embassy. Brightpool had passed beyond the western horizon, with only the stars, and Elsemar's bright rings to light the sky. Even Alis had gotten deep enough into her cups that she was more than a bit tipsy, though she shrugged off all helping hands preferring rather to stop every few steps to dance with Lureene, Felmor, both, or no one at all.
Given the hour then of your return, you were all a bit surprised when whilst en route to your bed chambers, each of you were hailed by a page, each one bearing the same message — Princess Larathiel had urgent matters to discuss with all of you first thing in the morning...
"Sure. I'd welcome the company. Little Sister got bored and left hours ago. Not that she's much of a conversationalist even when present." He speaks without looking up from his project, and Priyya gets the sense that she's hearing the stray thoughts that spring up around the periphery of his intense focus on the project. "I find myself surprised by your scent, Darkmane. Usually when a woman has relationship problems, her scent is all spikey with the emotions of it. And you walk in here, scent the same. That same steel hardness, with only a soft overlay of the emotion... like a rock with the dew of the night clinging to it. Even the briney scent of your sailor is waning." He stops working abruptly, his body tensing a bit, and your strong intuition tells you he realizes he might have overstepped his bounds.
His eyes remain on his project, but you have the distinct impression his focus has shifted to you, and he proceeds with a surpringly un-Mal-like level of verbal caution "Um... I'm sorry for intruding. Your business with Traker is of course, none of mine. Sometimes when focused, I let it distract me from everything else... including personal boundaries, it seems. Feel free to ignore that I said that." His hands go back to their strange work, but you can see his attention is not so tightly focused anymore.
Priyya eyes the tall sergeant with a mixture of amusement, surprise, and a certain amount of angst. "I'm not sure if I should be more disturbed by the depth of your observations, the keenness of your senses, or the fact that you are actually talking to me about relationships, Mal." She chuckles mirthlessly.
She shrugs, "I guess I'm not like most women. But then, whether I have someone's love or lost it, my purpose and my training remain. Priyya gives her heart, wants love I suppose, and has soft moments. Surya-ka-Vahaak thinks it is all a distraction from the mission. So, at times like this, I try very hard to be Surya-ka-Vahaak." Priyya grimaces, "I wonder which woman is more incomprehensible?"
Mal's keen senses detect the scent of her emotions bubbling closer to the surface. He senses a vague sadness, some confusion, a level of anger, and a fierce desire to lock it all down.
"I'm not sure if I should be more disturbed by the depth of your observations, the keenness of your senses, or the fact that you are actually talking to me about relationships, Mal." She chuckles mirthlessly.
Mal lays a finger on his nose with a smile, "Well, some things are rather hard to miss with this thing working the way it does. Plus, relationships can be interesting... if somewhat complex."
She shrugs, "I guess I'm not like most women. But then, whether I have someone's love or lost it, my purpose and my training remain. Priyya gives her heart, wants love I suppose, and has soft moments. Surya-ka-Vahaak thinks it is all a distraction from the mission. So, at times like this, I try very hard to be Surya-ka-Vahaak." Priyya grimaces, "I wonder which woman is more incomprehensible?"
Mal's keen senses detect the scent of her emotions bubbling closer to the surface. He senses a vague sadness, some confusion, a level of anger, and a fierce desire to lock it all down.
"You've made similar comments before, and I have to admit, I struggle with the concept. It seems to me there is enough difficulties being one person, much less two. Why the division between the title and the girl? Yes, the priestess is strong, but surely the girl is, too? I mean, a pot made of weak clay is made weak. Why not draw strength by making the two one? Why would you even want one without the other? There is strength to be found in believing in all of yourself.... not fencing them apart."
Priyya warms to the less personal subject. "In most things, I am both. But my instructors and my training 'discouraged' any thoughts of love. It was seen as something that would reduce focus on our holy purpose. I was trained to be Alita's spear. Spears don't seek romantic entanglements."
"I disagree with their approach, but a 12 year old girl does not have the luxury to say 'no' or even realise how skewed her lessons are. So, in situations like this, I am of two minds and I try to reconcile them both."
Alis awakens to the feeling of a golden haze enveloping her senses. She is hot, very hot and breathing does not come easily as though there were a weight upon her chest. For a moment, she lays very still trying to recall where she is and what happened. It is only when a hot breeze whistles in her ear and her nose finally registers a hint of cinnamon that she realizes what has happened.
"Luh– reeeeene!" with a groan more of exasperation than of exertion, the princess in one move rolls over and up into a sitting position atop the winged beauty who had fallen asleep atop her. Practically drenched from the combination of the woman's body heat and her pheremones, Alis runs a hand thru her own damp golden tresses before delivering a rather impertinent pinch to wake up the still slumbering pseudo-succubus.
Lureene jerks awakes, reflexively trying to sit up, but her forward progress is forestalled by the elven beauty sitting on her, knees pinning her wings.
With a smirk, Alis chides, "El, should I ever fall in an icy lake, I'll be in good hands. But with where we're going, you're apt to roast me in me sleep."
She picks up a pillow and playfully bats her groggy friend about the head with it. "I'm– not– a– pillow!"
After a good laugh, and a bit of punitive tickling, Alis hops up and gives her blushing friend a hand, "Come on, let's get washed up. You're going to love the baths here."
As Lureene is jerked awake by her bedtime companion, she shakes the last thoughts of a very pleasant dream from her mind, and noticed her body was still reacting to what she had dreamed of earlier that night.
She reaches for a white silk robe to cover up her body, and thinks to herself, 'Lis, you have no idea how NICE a pillow you make!
On the thought of a hot bubble bath, the young girl giggles with excitement, "Ohhh, I do love baths!" Remembering a bath she had taken a couple of months ago with Rath-hun, and also the elvish maiden Suny, caused her blush to deepen to a very pleasant crimson shade.
After a good scrubbing and a suitable amount of primping, Alis comments, "You know El, I can't help but think that I'm forgetting about something."
She eyes herself in an array of full-length mirrors and shakes her head, blonde tresses waving with the movement. "I don't see anything, do you?"
When Lureene shakes her head, the princess simply shrugs her shoulders and says, "Well, I guess it can't be that important. Let's go see what the others are up to."
Empty, empty, and empty... where are they?
"Alright, I know I can hold my liquor better than Felmor, don't tell me that even he is up before us!"
Seeing a servant rounding the corner, Alis snaps her fingers twice. "You there, page. Have you seen where my companions have gotten to?"
The young elf boy pauses and bows, saying in answer, "Your highness, Princess Larathiel sent for their attendance nearly an hour ago. I... have been searching the tower in an attempt to locate your highness that I might relate that they away you in the grand meeting hall atop this spire."
Dammit, I was forgetting something! Why does Lara have to be such an early bird?
Without so much as a sharp inhale, Alis says, "Young man, it is impolite to keep her Highness waiting like that. Be a good lad now and lead us upstairs."
Sense Motive Checks:
The page hesitates for a moment, his youthful nature rebelling against the implication that he is to blame for them being late. Stifling a sigh, he answers, "Yes your Highness, right away."
Alis merely flashes a smile at Lureene and walks on ahead following the elf boy. After receiving a short yet gentle reprimand outside of the council chambers, the page received a light pat on the shoulder from Princess Alis and opens the doors announcing in a high yet melodious voice, "The Princess Alissariel of Silverwake, and her retainer The Lady Lureene Ourson!"
Sense Motive Checks:
Inside the high-domed council chamber, everyone including Princess Larathiel, Ambassador Kiril, Yvonne d'Calla, Mal, Priyya, and Felmor are all seated. Judging by the surface of the oblong table in the center of the room, they had already finished breakfast while pouring over maps and other documents.
Alis notes with a bit of chagrin that she and Lureene are going to be running on empty bellies for at least a while now. It is only after she recovers from the bitter disappointment of finding nothing but crumbs that she notes her older sister is wearing her full battle kit.
"Ah, Alis," Larathiel says, her voice belying no emotion or surprise, "I just finished briefing your companions on some news that we received late yesterday. The Nereid and her support ships did make it past Jehiril. That being the case, I recommended to Captain Traker that he discuss a more direct route to Wildethar rather than first returning to Silverwake."
"Secondly," she picks up a close-fitting mithril helmet and dons it, "your stay in Dafar may be longer than we had initially foreseen. Governor Taurion has been slain by insurgents and her mansion overrun. Instead of serving as a mediator, you will be taking over as Governor. Until then, the port there is under martial law pending your decree."
"Lastly, it appears that saboteurs have struck at more than a few of our naval vessels bound for the region. I would recommend you keep a low profile and make your travel arrangements on a passenger vessel instead."
"Governor of... Dafar," Alis says in a small voice. Keeping her chin up, she asks, "Sister, are you flying ahead to spearhead an official response by some chance?"
Sense Motive Checks:
At the question, Larathiel pauses, her gaze shifting to meet that of her adopted sister. "The vessels that were enroute to Dafar were still underway from Silverwake and had not yet passed out of the Fang Sea. I am heading back to Ilmarond to get to root out the enemies in our ranks and to put an end to the Trull blockade."
She walks over to Alis and lays one hand on her shoulder, the other lifting her chin. To the untrained eye, it might seem that the two then simply gazed at one another for some time Yet Mal knew his commander better than that — she was not that sentimental.
After about two minutes of silent dialog, Alis steps forward and gives her sister a hug. With a gentle smile, Larathiel returns the gesture and gives her a kiss on the forehead.
Disengaging, the white-crowned woman turns to Mal and Priyya. "Please ensure the safety of the Princess. We would be in your debt."
Without further delay, she then steps outside onto a windy balcony and in the next moment you see a large white eagle with silver-tipped wings take to the skies, swiftly disappearing from sight...
A balmy spring breeze rustles the papers on the table sending them to the floor. With an apology, the old butler closes the balcony door and sets about gathering up the documents.
Once the princess has seated herself at the head of the table, he hands them to her and excuses himself with a bow. In short order, the remnants of breakfast are cleared away soon replaced by fresh pastries and piping-hot black tea.
Even pastries dripping with icing and a stack of documents held up in front of her face are not enough to mask Alis' disappointment. She reads in silence for a few minutes, before a quiet sigh escapes her and she sets the papers down.
"Well," she begins, "it looks like you may yet have a chance to visit your parents before you head out, Felmor."
She looks up at him. "Book passage south to Mallos, and make your way West then North along the coast of Chalësidhea. Ilmarond maintains several vessels out of Kelrinthi Keep as part of our alliance with Aramol. I'm not certain which ships are posted there currently, but it is a simple matter to have one of them reassigned."
"Judging by these itineraries, it looks like the port will be busiest on Alsday, the 14th. If we are dodging spies now, then I would suggest we all leave on the same day to increase the number of variables any observers need to take into account."
"In the mean time," she pushes herself up from the table, a sour look on her sweet face, "I'm going shopping."
Sense Motive Checks:
Lureene thinks quietly to herself, So, this smells of the Coil without a doubt. Their reach is far indeed. I have to make sure the Princess is OK, as she does not seem to be the type used to governing. As far as she can tell, Alis had not shown much of a reaction, but admittedly, she is not used to reading other people's moods. Later, even her limited skills at reading people's emotions told her Alis was sorely disappointed by this latest turn of events.
Once Alis has settled in, she asks the Princess, "Larathiel suggested we book passage on a passenger ship, it seems a wise idea to me."
Later, as Alis gets up to leave, she asks, "Would you like some company, Alis?"
Felmor nods at the Princess, "Aye, yer words are wise, I kin wait until that time where we all depart tagether."
He then turns to grin at the rest of you, "Looks like ye is stuck wit' me fer a couple more days."
"Before your shopping excursion, Alis, I have a question. Forgive my ignorance of the political situation but is Dafar some sort of vassal state of Ilmarond? I'm curious how you can become its Governor."
Alis nods at Lureene, "Not only would I like your company, but Ambassador Galadain and his guard shall be joining us as well."
"Your highness," the tall, dark-haired elven gentleman begins, a look of reservation on his face, "are you certain–"
A look from Alis that could burn rock cuts him off. He pushes himself back from the seat at her right, bows and says, "I shall clear my schedule at once, your Highness. The embassy, her staff, and guard are at your disposal."
"With your leave then..." He bows once more and hastens off calling for a herald and men at arms as he goes.
At Priyya's question, Alis says, "Yvonne, there's a business matter I need to discuss with you before the Golden Drakes reprovision and depart for Valehaven. It can wait until later, however."
Yvonne nods in acknowledgement and unexpectedly reaches out to give Alis a long hug. By the door, you can hear the old butler clear his throat.
"Giles," Alis calls out to the old dwarf, "please take good care of Lady d'Calla and her retinue. They have been great friends to me through some very difficult times."
With a 'harumph' of acknowledgement, the old dwarf opens the door to the exotic woman who nods once to Alis and then departs. Once it is just the five of you again, Alis retakes her seat and begins to answer Priyya's question...
Bluff Checks
Sense Motive Checks DC 27
"How familiar are you with the differences between colonies, protectorates, and protected states?"
When Alis looks around and sees that everyone is basically on the same page, albeit with varying degrees of confidence, she nods. "Alright, great. To answer things simply, Priyya, yes Dafar is in a sense a vassal state to Ilmarond. The full answer is a bit more complex."
"Much of the land to the south of the Silver Sea could be considered uncivilized by most any standard. Up until about 200 years ago, Mestara maintained a stranglehold on all trade thru the south of the Silver Sea. As you may know, Mestara, Mallos, and Malatesta were founded by three brothers legends hold to be the half-mortal scions of Melkarn — the mythological titan who ruled over Ur-Nár after the departure of the Valar."
When that draws blank looks, Alis waves her hand, "A tale for another time. The important part is that for much of human history, those three nations kept to their lands as part of some ancient pact. However, over the last 300 years, Malatesta has been growing in power seeking to become a dominant empire. While the kings of Mallos saw profit in this, having long been overshadowed by the elven nations to their north, and fending against corsairs and savages to the south, Mestara was not so willing to relinquish their independence. It is something they still retain to this day, but only tenuously."
"In order to garner the support and favor of other nations as allies, Mestara relinquished their stranglehold on the straight into the gulf to the south, inviting other nations to establish colonies rather than assailing them directly. The city at Light's End was designated an international trading zone, intended to be politically neutral."
"The King of Mestara had hoped the greed for new territories and resources would divert attention away from a costly war for an established country. For a time, that was exactly what happened, Malatesta, Quelaerilea, and Setenbor all built up their powerbase in Light's End to ensure sufficient military presence to protect their new colonial interests. Setenbor colonized the region now known as Renátu, while attempts were made by Malatesta to do the same in Dafar. For their part, the many nations of Quelaerilea established a smattering of cities in the region. None were large enough to garner much competition with the other nations, nor the hatred of the locals."
"The hatred of the locals had been just what the king of Mestara had counted on. Attempting to subdue the Zuktol people in Dafar proved to be a great drain on Malatesta's resources. The natives of the region fought tooth and nail to drive them out seeking aid from the relatively peaceful even settlers of Quelaerilea."
"However, while the power of a unified elvish empire could certainly stand up to power-hungry nations like Malatesta and Mallos, the fractured nations as have existed for millennia could never hope to do so. This is where Ilmarond would eventually enter the scene."
"After receiving heavy loses in Dafar, Malatesta contracted from its colonial interests and entered a prolonged conflict with Mestara. Mallos nominally regained its sovereign status. Sharing a border with the Gulf of Dafar, the rulers of Mallos still had a mind not to relinquish the colonies for which they had fought so hard. The peoples of Dafar, including those of elvish descent, were well aware of their vulnerable position."
"In an unexpected move, the people of Dafar petitioned Ilmarond for in the hopes of becoming a protected state. King Aramandil, Larathiel's father, and the man who adopted 'Sis and I, has long seen it as the ancestral duty of House Kirmoon to safeguard those who flee imperial tyranny. With so many elves having mingled with the Zuktol in Dafar, he was moved to aid them."
"Unfortunately, what he found was that there was no existing capacity for self-government in the region. In spite of their unity against a common enemy like Malatesta, the people of Dafar were still very much a tribal society, bonding to various elvish enclaves but not really forming a cohesive whole. I think part of the reason for that is as much to blame for the harshness of the jungle and the region's geography as anything else."
"Regardless, Dafar lacked the ability or perhaps the determination to come together under a single leader. As a result, rather than becoming a protected state as Ilmarond hoped, Dafar became a protectorate. For over 100 years, it has existed as such; the internal government being headed-up by a governor appointed by the crown. Given the history of the region, typically these have been half-elven leaders, such as myself although I believe Gweniel Taurion was full-blooded."
She sighs and takes a long sip of tea to wet her tongue, "In any event, that's now the reason for my new appointment. Where I was originally being sent to help mediate escalating tensions with an increasingly vocal group of radicals, instead I'm to now handle matters personally."
"Joy..." the word is the last she speaks for a good minute or so while another pastry finds its way into her hand. Once it is washed down with some now luke-warm tea, she says, "I suppose I should feel honored that the King and Lara think I did a fine enough job as co-ruler of Silverwake to take on a larger responsibility like this. But I'm really not that enthusiastic about being stuck in some miserably hot, far-off hell hole devoid of class or culture. Visiting for an expedition of some ruins said to predate we elves? Sure! But I never intended to live there for any length of time... certainly not with the makings of a civil war brewing... It feels more like a demotion or punishment than anything else — like what happened to that fop who got sent to head up the colony in Wildethar where 'Sis is sailing..."
"Anyway," she turns to look Priyya in the eyes, seemingly already tired in spite of having only just awoken, "does that answer your question?"
Lureene thinks for a moment on what Alis has told her about the current situation in Darfar. She wonders how best to frame her response, wishing she was more direct and honest like Priyya. Still, she decided to take a stab at it, all the while hoping the Princess did NOT return the favor with her sharp wit, not to mention her rapier.
"Alis, I think maybe you are looking at this in the wrong way. I think King Aramandil and Larathiel must have high hopes for you to unify the peoples of Darfar behind a strong leader, which I think they believe you are perfectly capable of being one, and accomplishing such a feat. I know you are a wonderful leader, just look at who are your friends," while pointing to Priyya, Mal, and Felmor. "If you can accomplish this, then Darfar could become a protected state, instead of just a protectorate, and then Ilmarond would gain prestige, along with you I am sure."
Lureene touches Alis on her shoulder, "I know this is tough, 'Lis, but you know I will be with you no matter where they send us." She let's go of the young Princesses' shoulder, and takes a sip of tea, adding, "I know the Coil will strike again, and I won't abandon you to their tender mercies."
Mal shrugs with a grin, "...'miserably hot, far-off hell hole devoid of class or culture', huh? Actually sounds like my kind of town! When do we start?"
Alis weather's Lureene's earnest, if somewhat sugary, words with a faint smile. At mention of the Ruby Coil, she draws her lips back in a grimace. "Gee, thanks. I think..."
She gives a short ironic laugh at the thought, but it is Mal's grinning enthusiasm that seems to perk her mood more than anything else. "Hmm, yes I guess it would be, wouldn't it."
Her eyes roll in mock exasperation, "Just remember, if I get eaten by cannibals or a pack of baboons, I'm coming back to haunt you Mal. So you'll have to make sure you put those new toys Lara gave you to good use. Big imposition there, I know..."
"Governor... Tch! I don't even like the sound of it." Shaking her head, Alis looks at Lureene and says, "If my new mansion has been overrun then we have a lot of shopping to do and not much time."
She sorts thru the reports left for her and finds one detailing the damages to the estate, "Right, we'd better get started, who else is coming with me? Priyya? Fel?"
Felmor shrugs, inwardly thankful he was only being sent to a Gods-forsaken wilderness colony. He stands to his feet, and slips his baldric on. "I be wit' ye, Cap'n."
Mal's grin becomes more predatory, "Here's the thing with cannibals, they can't eat you if you eat them first, Alis." He punctuates the point by flicking out his new claw-blades.
"HA!" she pats the front of her corset, "I'm afraid I don't have quite enough of an appetite for that to be much of a strategy. You'll have to eat for the both of us, Mal."
"It's all that dainty food you eat."
Alis gives a very solemn nod before holding up her hand and pointing to her fingers. "It's because I was born with dainty little lady fingers..."
Judging by the twinkle in her eyes, Mal can tell that she is greatly amused by this seldom-seen playful side he's showing.
Is he giddy from having gotten to see Lara all dressed up for battle, or is he just that excited?
"Right, we'd better get started, who else is coming with me? Priyya? Fel?"
"If you are referring to your shopping expedition," Priyya says with a look of genuine dread,"I think I'll eat cannibals with Mal instead."
"Alright, well the boutiques in Malatesta aren't going to sell out all by themselves. It's a tough job, but someone has to do it. Saaargent, I'll leave you and Priyya to your clandestine feast whilst I try to leave a money trail broad enough for a blind man to follow. El, Fel, you're with me. Ciao!"
With that, Alis lightly skips out of the room seemingly intent upon doing keeping everything but a low profile.
The previous few days had been a blur. Mal, sequestered away in the embassy's crafting labs, had been working from dusk 'til dawn once Alis figured out how capable he was at enhancing the form of her wardrobe with additional function. For her part, Priyya alternated between keeping him company and marveling at the cart loads of fine crystal, expensive linens, uniforms, scented candles, and pieces of furniture that had fallen victim to the unbridled power of Alis' fortune.
Exactly what doesn't she understand about keeping a low profile? The cleric wondered.
At the end of each day, Lureene and Felmor staggered in with Alis, drunk out of their minds and practically singing state secrets. All the while, the Ambassador, being led by an ever-chipper princess fully two heads shorter than him, had all the look of a beaten dog wishing for the sweet release of death.
So it was that on the morning of Astrath 14th, to much pomp and ceremony, a chartered galleon of the finest make departed Malatesta for the distant land of Dafar. At the helm stood the charismatic Knight Captain, Felmor Traker. At his side was the exotic and deadly desert beauty Priyya of Xerech. Even as they stepped down from their rose bedecked carriage, the radiant Princess Alis and her glamorous retainer, Lureene, cast smiles beaming like the Sun at all those come to see them off.
With so much attention devoted to the departure of the flamboyant elven princess and her retinue, little heed was paid to goings on elsewhere. So when several nondescript travelers with little more to their credit than the packs on their backs boarded a weather-beaten old clipper bound for Mallos, only the harbormaster paid the event any mind. Even then, the signal was clear: White Pearl, you are clear to depart. Maintain speed thru the sea channel and do not deviate course towards the battle escort awaiting Her Lady's Grace!
As the perpetual wind thru Malatesta's harborgate filled the White Pearl's sails, a little old lady onboard the ship commented to her husband of 30 years. "My goodness Gerrold, all that glitz and commotion. I hope Ellie grows up to have a bit more modesty than that!"
The old sea dog gave an 'ooof!' as a wrinkled old hand whalloped him across the stomach, a blue-violet glare piercing his hear, "Don't think I didn't see you eying that green-eyed desert lass either!"
"Ach, sweetie, i t'ink we raised 'er right." 'Gerrold' then winces as his 'wife' let her displeasure known with a sharp elbow at his roving gaze. "It looked like she had dropped somethin' 'n I was jes seeing if she found it." He exclaims defensively, his weathered hands raised in protest.
He noticed his 'daughter' hunched over the railing, and comments quietly, "Lisa, it be too bad Ellie dinnae get me sea legs, he he."
"She'll be fine," Lisa cooed, "Besides, she racked-up in a couple other departments..."
Lureene stands hunched over the railing, faking seasickness, somewhat. She realizes now she will never be comfortable aboard sailing vessels, but she will manage. She does manage to sneak a few glances at her 'parents', lifting strands of her black hair out of her eyes and face, while gazing at them. She also shifts her wings, thankful she had bound them to her back, to reduce the noticeable bulge. That, coupled with her spells, made the disguise complete.
She recalls saying goodbye to Grak, who had been so faithful to her, but Alis had cautioned her he would draw too much attention, at least for now. "You are not a mage, so no need for a familiar yet." Now he awaits in the otherworldly plane for her to summon him again.
She glances around her at the other passengers, and thinks, "I hope none of these other passengers have ties to the Coil, although I must admit we did lay one heck of a false trail."
"Alright everyone," Alis said as Giles unveiled a small mahogany chest engraved with a motif that Felmor and Lureene recognized as belonging to Aernelóth Fashion Studio. Inside it were a dozen hair pins. "Yvonne and I had to go thru a lot of trouble to get these on such short notice so don't lose yours and don't trade!"
All of you were located in the topmost council chamber of the embassy along with Yvonne, Atish, Darya, and pair of unassuming young elvish intelligence officers in the embassy's employ, one male, one female their names Arion and Tiniel. One by one, Alis went down the line of you, affixing the unassuming trinkets in your hair.
When she was finally finished and placed her own, she called out a few words in a tongue that none of you could understand. Immediately following, there were gasps of surprise from Darya and Tiniel as their blouses threatened to burst. The sound of cloth shredding and a surprised shout issued from Arion.
"Oh, I guess we should have changed first," Alis said as an afterthought, although she seemed none too distressed.
Looking at the five, you observed that they had all been altered into nearly perfect likeness of each of you. Yvonne looked like Priyya, Atish like Felmor, Darya like Lureene, and the spies now resembled Alis and Mal. The only discernible difference was that Yvonne's eyes remained green, Darya's hazel, and the Tiniel's blue.
When the princess turned around, holding a mirror, she once again looked like the old woman Lisa, only now she appeared less hale and hearty than in Dunwaar. Likewise, Gerrold now looked properly gnarled. Ellie's wings had disappeared and she looked much like a younger version of her 'mother' with long, black hair and a pale olive complexion. For his part, Mal found the change rather startling. While he was still the tallest person in the group by a good 6 inches, Andre was now a much less noticeable 6'3" with the sun-bronzed physique and close-cropped brown hair of a professional soldier. Lastly, Sarah had become nearly as tall as Gerrold, her skin-tone deeped to that of milk chocolate, and her hair composed of tight black ringlets tinged with the grey of early middle age.
"A bit more effective than makeup I daresay." Alis said proudly. "Now then, the five of you will sail on ahead to Dafar aboard Her Lady's Grace. Instruct the captain not to use the whirlpool currents and to remain just beyond sight of shore."
Indicating your group, she continued. "We, a simple merchant family with our nurse and son-in-law, recently discharged from the military, are seeking new business ventures further south. We will first be traveling against the current towards the Titan Isles just south of Malatesta. From there, Sir Traker will continue alone aboard the White Pearl. The rest of us will then book passage on a new vessel headed with the current towards Light's End."
"The reason for your delay then, is to ensure that in spite of our delay, Her Lady's Grace will arrive in Dafar after we do. Otherwise, should you arrive first and our ruse be discovered, agents who might already be in place may scatter to search for us, perhaps even attempting a maritime intercept. That... would be... inconvenient."
"With any luck, or at least without any bad luck," she murmurs under her breath, "we should all arrive in Port Eldarion within four to five weeks."
When Lureene balks, Alis sighs and says, "Unfortunately 17 days is the length of the journey on a fast military vessel that has the benefit of rowing teams. Using only the wind and whirlpool currents of the Silver Sea, our journey is apt take longer. The good news is, that should still allow Mal time enough to complete the magic items he was working on a bed and perhaps a small table rather than in a dedicated laboratory."
"Now then," she clapped her hands, "let's practice our roleplaying and accents, shall we? Tiniel, Darya, we need to get your into some of my clothes, come with me..."
As the White Pearl approached the shadow of the Malatesta's sea cleft, Captain Kovack, a weather-worn old sea dog shakes his head and spits at all the commotion.
"Lady's Grace my ass," he grumbles.
The man turns his deeply tanned face, which looks like a leather sack with eyes, away from the spectacle and rubs his finger along the shadow of grey stubble on his jaw.
"DEVERS!!!" Even if he must be in his 40s, judging by his lungs, the captain is full of vim and vigor.