| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Deimus looks at the crowd and walks boldly to the center of them, standing in front of the frieze. He pulls his old cloak and his old metal body suddenly turns resplendent, iridescent in the light bathing them.
With a voice like a tuning fork, he addresses the Court: "And so you feel but an echo of what Haylcaster the Roadkill felt when our swords gutted him, for he walked proud, certain, into the trap he made, only to have the trap sprung back on him! And like you, he thought he knew of us Midgardians. He thought he understood us. He thought he could best us easily, yet here we stand, in your midsts, standing amongst you, seeing you with our own eyes, and unveiling through your veil, the celebration of your Master of Roads demise! Oh, what irony this is, that you look to the future of House Roren, when the only House that you should be paying attention to..."
"Is here: House Zobeck!"
If you perform for at least 1 minute, you can attempt to inspire wonder in your audience by singing, reciting a poem, or dancing. At the end of the performance, choose a number of humanoids within 60 feet of you who watched and listened to all of it, up to a number equal to your Charisma modifier (minimum of one). Each target must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw against your spell save DC or be charmed by you. While charmed in this way, the target idolizes you, it speaks glowingly of you to anyone who talks to it, and it hinders anyone who opposes you, although it avoids violence unless it was already inclined to fight on your behalf. This effect ends on a target after 1 hour, if it takes any damage, if you attack it, or if it witnesses you attacking or damaging any of its allies.
If a target succeeds on its saving throw, the target has no hint that you tried to charm it.
Once you use this feature, you can't use it again until you finish a short or long rest.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Raseri, now freed from the cloak, meekly goes back into the dome and doesn't meet anyone's eyes as she gets back to work. She slaves over the engravings late into the evening and then wakes early the next morning to finish them in time. Once it is assembled and put on display and Deimus' mechanism starts to turn, she grabs a dark cloak from someone's pack and wraps it around herself, deepening the shadows of the low hood covering her face so even her companions barely recognize her.
She quietly finds a corner away from the spectacle and sits, hoping that she wouldn't attract any attention. Fatigue claws at her, threatening to take her into a deep sleep, but she does not want to sleep, not yet. She wants to be too tired to dream, to see silver eyes haunting her once more. She listens to Deimus to keep her mind off her lack of sleep, and frowns as he gives his proclamation. She grits her teeth as her eyes move from the gearforged and fall on Carnadine. Her hands twist as if she were trying to grasp something that wasn't there. She gives him a snarl while his back is turned and looks away, a scowl on her face as she broods.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Hrungnir watched, dumbly, as his friend made the speech. He knew that there was a large audience, but all he could see was a single goblin and a collection of animals. It was unnerving, knowing that they were being watched but could not watch back. He thanked any power that was listening for Deimus being there.
Lexi does her best to fade into the background, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.
After the trouncing of the wardens, Carnadine offers anyone a celebration break to visit the Library again to read the news. He returns with his Helm of Comprehend Languages.
"Failycaster, Deimus. Don't forget the punchline that you wouldn't want to be a Failycaster of a House of Ruin." Carnadine offers additional lambasting.
”This all feels so juvenile. It is hard to believe that after all we have been through, and with all that is at stake, our best hope of success is for us to make witty jokes.”
A group of shadow fey seem captivated by the gearforged creature, both his words and simply his persona. "Hah...House Zobeck. Yes that sounds about right..."
Another nods in agreement "This is so exciting, the motherland being reborn in our lifetimes. And Roren think they can monopolize it all? I think not." There is much more introspective murmuring and talking about big changes to come.
It's hard to imagine the unveiling going any better, there was the unfortunate squishing of a goblin ale maiden when an ogre mistepped...but it was soon forgotten. Carnadine's quick friendship with Eracen also seems to have paid off, his suggestions were on point...perhaps he can trusted after all. The artistry and technical skill that went into the frieze itself also seems to be appreciated by all but the dullest louts.
Suddenly there's an angry grunting as the audience members are shoved aside "W...what...? What is the meaning of this insult! Honorless bastards!" a knightly scathesidhe steps forward. Whispers in the crowd intone "...oh ho ho...what's this? That's Zaeri...3rd retainer for house Roren..."
"And you..." motioning over the audience, which has become dead silent "Eating it up, eh? Shame. To be so entranced by these...Midgardians..." he eyes the party over one by one "You are cowards. Too weak spined to challenge me to my face, aren't you? Look at you...snivelling in your artistry and clockwork gimmicks. I'm sure Haylcaster was defeated by similar cowards tactics. Who among you is man enough to face me in the ring?"
A little squirrel squeaks "...hehehe...an honor duel!"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Carnadine steps forward toward the 3rd retainer for house Roren. "I'm man enough to face you in the ring. Whoever you are?"
"I am Carnadine of Bruvik, Knight Captain Incorporeal. My companions and I defeated Failycaster and his companions thrice. The first time, I personally accepted the his surrender of his weapons. The last time, quarter was not asked nor given.
"Where is this ring? So, I can knock some manners into you." He readies his shield emblazoned gules, a skull argent.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
He raised an eyebrow "Haylcaster liked to play with owls and magic...his addiction to quickling humours was hardly a secret. You boast of defeating a drugged magician...? You all heard him? *chuckle* Pathetic. I've seen seasons of battle break little upstarts like you as so much sticks in the wind. You stink of the thinking-dead my campaigning battalions return to the grave. I will enjoy watching you grovel when I take your sword as ransom...after I use it to smash this 'art' you have wrought." motioning to the frieze.
The crowd still seems sympathetic to you...
He then points with his gauntleted finger towards the martial tournament, which you are perhaps just seeing for the first time taking place near the stables. It seems a pair have just dehorsed and begun melee combat...one with a pair of scimitars, and another a long black spear.
He clears his throat and speaks a bit louder "Carnadine of Bruvik, Knight 'Captain' Incorporeal...you have slighted me sir. I demand a meeting on the tournament grounds to defend my honor, as is my noble right as Zaeri Montylgrue, 3rd retainer of House Roren."
Eracen helpfully adds whispering behind a hand covering his mouth "It will be a joust and melee with blunted weaponry...you must surrender your arms if you lose. As must he..."
"We shall remember you as... the SECOND Roadkill.Or perhaps it will be 'Roadkill the Second'... Anyhow, you should be proud!" comment Deimus as he assists Carnadine preparing.
Once he had finished marveling at the sights laid bare to him, Hrungnir gathered his wits and joined in the verbal dueling.
”Oho! The fop thinks himself a warrior! Our Sir Knight earned honor by risking his life in mortal combat. And now another feels such jealousy that he wants to swing around toy weapons. A true warrior is sure enough in himself to not feel the need to strut around like a peacock. Only those with faux deeds and little achievement feel the need to embarrass themselves in public so.”
"Very well, Zaerie Montylgrue, 3rd retainer of House Ruin. I accept your challenge."
"Eracen, Court Musician, would be my guide for this tournament grounds rules, if he might accept. And, Deimus the artist here will be be my herald."
"Let's get your lesson in battle and manners over with." Carnadine nods to Eracen hoping that he would get more official coaching to reduce the homefield advantage.
Just after lockpicking the backdoor to an apothecary (relocking it to appear no one entered), her hands full of useful healing salves and wrappings, Lexi gets a nostalgic feeling as she remembers a nearby dead drop. After casing it for a half hour she approaches more closely, and by the markings of chalk on the wall nearby, a surprise: message for her inside...it had to be Zokhan.
The dead drop always contained an item which was designed to appear mundane to anyone who just happened to find the location...in this case a loose brick in the wall. There was a 10 cm metal rod, roughly the diameter of a ring finger...the kind often found as long bars that reinforce masonry in construction. A thin line bisected the rod, hinting that it could be unscrewed. Stuffed inside was a rolled up sheet of copper foil, and a tiny vial of liquid.
Lexi knew the message was engraved microscale on the copper foil, and the liquid was actually muriatic acid. After reading it, the foil could quickly be dissolved in the acid, turning the slightly green fluid a deep blue. Decryption was another precaution, as if Zokhan's horrible penmanship wasn't enough. Of course the silent rogue knew the cipher key...her master had made damn sure she would never forget.
Translating symbol by symbol, a terse program results "17th daughter not what she seems. Neutralization. Seek the darastrixian Lych Gate. Cross. Still mine." The word darastrixian is written in Draconic, and means 'kobold'. Neutralization was the command to kill.
After the initial decryption, the first and last letters created a new code that could be used to find the location of the next dead drop. After a few moments she had it "Training grounds 4." Of course it had to be...the Shadow Realm.
Still mine. What an ass.
...Elegyn Leoniel...
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
At Deimus' outburst, Zaeri replies "...I see you are accustomed to letting your golem speak for you."
At Hrungnir's, he retorts with much less confidence "...so says a...uh...I'm sorry you are the biggest brownie I've ever seen. I did not know your kind came in such sizes." stated honestly and without insult.
Finally with Carnadine's acceptance "Splendid. The bracket is full for through tomorrow...but I will pull some strings to have us advanced to midday. I do not wish to upset the Queen by disturbing her already planned proceedings."
As he walks off (), the excitement explodes within the crowd, especially among the animal-heads "Don't you get it? Roren fashions itself the Queen's arm in Zobeck...and here he has challenged a Zobecker! A proxy battle for the whole war!" Much debate ensues regarding the symbolism of the duel and hypothetical outcomes...along with the frieze, the party has become the talk of the courts.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Eracen easily and fluently explains the rules. They sound fairly similar to what you are accustomed to:
1. Contract.Log a formal statement of intent with the quartermaster regarding the transfer of arms (not armor) after the duel. For this, you need to state a squire known to the courts from a noble house, at least for formal purposes. Eracen suggests one named Scutarius Thornwalker of House Rivenwood, but you could perhaps find one on your own.
2. Introductions. You will stand side by side and greet each other and the headwitnesses, likely nobility of some house. Cordiality is expected.
3. Joust. This is designed to replicate the clashing of heavy calvary on the battlefield. You must use a horse, armor and arms that you yourself own. Lances are blunted. Perfection is to dismount your opponent with a precise strike that knocks off the crest of the opponent's heavy helmet. Accidental killings are frowned upon. One clean pass after the next is conducted with combatants on opposite sides of the tilt until a crest is struck, all lances are broken, or some/both combatants are dismounted.
4. Melee. Again the weapons are blunted with leather. If a crest was struck, that opponent fights without a helm (). Combat takes place within the New Moon Hall (). During combat, the pillars magically teleport around the area to simulate the random chaos of battle within a thick, deep forest (). Battle goes to KO or surrender. Again accidental killing is frowned upon. It is said the Queen especially hates the unneccesary killing of a combatant on her tournament grounds. ()
5. Surrender. The transfer of arms pursuant to the contract is not public, but rather a private parley betwen the 2 combatants and their squires. Ransom could be discussed at such time, should the loser wish to buy bac his arms.
Raseri blinks as the full splendor of the court makes itself known to her. She's too far from the bulk of the crowd and too self-conscious to speak up, but her teeth grind as she's named a coward, and a low rumble can be felt in the chests of those around her. She stands a makes her way towards Eracen, as he seems the person to ask considering his friendship with Carnadine, as inconspicuously as she can.
Or she starts to as she remembers surrendering to the cloaks and guards. She stops, her head bowing as the fires of her anger cool. What did it matter to her? Pride was such a useless thing, and so was anger. All it did was get her into trouble. She instead slinks to where her belongings are and...
She stands there, looking over her gear and wonders why she was even trying. She finds herself not wanting to do anything, but needing to do something, With a shrug, she turns and starts looking for Lexi.
"Thank you again, Eracen. Would you please introduce me to Scutarius Thornwalker of House Rivenwood?"
"Why would you suggest him?"
"Would it be too gauche for me to use my personal mount. She's undead."
"Who could help me with the formal contract?"
"What is the going price to buy back one's arms?"
"Who would know how Zaerie Montylgrue fights? And, how to gain an advantage?"
"Is there anyone else in the court who would want Zaerie defeated and might want to help me?"
"What are the rules about use of magic and trickery?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Why would you suggest him?"
Snacking on some dried fruit crisps "Well, for starters hes of House Rivenwood...no friend of the Rorens. He has nothing to lose really to throw in with the likes of a Midgardian, a Zobecker challenger. He already served the major domo of the house castle, a scarred and grim war dog most say was no one to be trifled with. A boy that can make it through that service...I'd say has something special. But most of all, hes available...not serving any knight currently. Meh, not saying hes the best...just came to mind is all."
"Would it be too gauche for me to use my personal mount. She's undead."
He does a double take before taking a hard shot of some booze from a flask "Indeed...turned some heads when you walked in with the reigns of that creature. But no, the Queen has made certain undead her allies in the wars against the umbral vampires of Oshragora. Undeath and shadow corruption are quite common outside the protective walls of their palace here..."
"Who could help me with the formal contract?"
"That is the quartermaster's role. There are a few scribes under his employ that can do the calligraphy."
"What is the going price to buy back one's arms?"
"Ha, thats about as varied as the Realm itself, Carnadine. It is whatever the victor decides, it might be gold...might be service. The victor may even flat out refuse...though of course that tends to further sour relations between houses. Outrageous sums can serve the same purpose, asking the impossible is something of a final insult..."
"Who would know how Zaeri Montylgrue fights? And, how to gain an advantage?"
"There are a number of historians at the Queen's disposal to document battles taking place here in the Shadow Realm. Perhaps some record of theirs could contain a clue. Of course, soldiers he has fought alongside would surely also have some idea...as would his squire. Neither I would consider very trustworthy sources however. The Ravens are the self proclaimed experts of the tournaments and might have some insights...but I doubt they would share with someone outside their faction...they would surely view you as a new opponent and not wish to give any edge."
"Is there anyone else in the court who would want Zaeri defeated and might want to help me?"
"Undoubtedly...but I personally know not. Intrigue here is like sweat in the summer, it covers everyone. Perhaps the 4th retainer would like to take his place. Perhaps a noble lady wishes him humiliated for some slight. Keep a sharp ear for gossip and rumor..."
"What are the rules about use of magic and trickery?"
"If it is used, and you are undetected, you deserve to win. If it is used and you are detected...and it can be proved...you will be put to death. Some minor enchantments are permitted, such as special abilities on arms and armor which cause direct attacks or defensive capabilities. But beguiling or illusory enchantments of the like from rings and amulets...no. As a veteran, Zaeri likely has more than one magic item about him...I would not doubt."
As Raseri completes her work, she finds the spot on the frieze depicting Halycaster's death and begins to work on the ritual of Lost Memories, but modified so that anyone could see the moment through her eyes if they wished to see the scathesidhe's demise as if there.
Anger, fear, and frustration boiled through Raseri's veins as she saw Halycaster Montylgrue of House Roren strike down her friend. She wanted to end him with one of the weapons that she'd worked the starmetal she'd claimed as gild for his insults into, but she wasn't able to touch him and he kept running away. She dove off the back of the beast she'd climbed and into the ash to emerge from the other side. Her hands found the bow and an arrow with the ease of long practice. She looked around for Halycaster, sparks of lightning danced up her arms as the storm raged within her. Her eyes locked with his and she drew the bow, aiming to put the arrow right in his heart.
And she missed.
She missed, again! Raw, bitter fury nearly blinded her, but then, a frothy, golden bolt of light blasted the back of the elf's head open before consuming the rest and dropping him like a puppet with cut strings. The bitter taste of lye was on her tongue as the storm in her died. She had let them down. She was useless.
The bow falls to the ground as Raseri pulls her shield, the same battered shield that had saved her life when she fell into a pit trap sent by Halycaster's agents and another reminder of her uselessness, off of her shoulder. She takes a few steps towards where she thought Lexi would be and fades into the ground.
A few brave souls come to nibble the pastry of Raseri's memory, relishing in the details and nodding in utter understanding. Mostly just minor court-flies, unused to the wonderous memory currency typically reserved for the upper class...but there is one old grizzled knight that steps forward. He wears a symbol about his neck like a cleric...
Lexi approaches Raseri and says quietly "I have some business I have to take care of. I won't be gone long, but it is mandatory that I go. If they others ask, just let them know I'm still working on my map."
she then leaves, the floating balls of light in hot pursuit.
Continuing his conversation with Eracen, "Where do I find the quartermaster? Would you introduce me, sir?"
======================================
After the audience disperses, Carnadine returns to isolation of the Tiny Hut of Deimus to celebrate with some of the Alemaiden's brew. "Well done artists. Very well done. That was exactly what we needed to get this fey court's attention. And, it was perfect to be challenged by one of Failycaster's house."
Pausing for a swallow of brew, "And, you are judged as much on the quality of your enemies, as you are the quality of your companions." The noble dhampir offers philosophically.
"Now, I need to a number of things to prepare for tomorrow's tilt. I need to meet this Scutarius Thornwalker and quartermaster. I need to determine if riding Voyra puts me at a disadvantage. Otherwise, I need to find another mount." The ghost knight takes another pull of his tankard.
"We should check the library for more rumors, and maybe they would have information on the history of House of Roren and their enemies. Particularly, their enemies and interest in Zobeck."
"Who wants to come with me? And what do the rest of you plan to do?" The knight captain incorporeal is evidently pleased with events, and you think his mood verges on giddy, if you could ever imagine that.
1. Meet Scutarius. Secure his support, and discover as much info as possible.
2. Meet the quartermaster. Secure his/her support, and discover as much info as possible.
3. Meet the strange horse in the stables and determine if it is a better choice than Voyra
4. Read more rumors
5. Befriend the dogs in the libarium
6. Research House Roren in the librarium
7. Along the way, maybe beat up a Raven or three to earn their respect and support
"I would come along, but I also would very much like to meet this Goblin King. Remember this bit about nobility to be found below as above? Whether we need shelter or not, it seems like a good place to find allies..." he offers.
”I’ll go with ye, Carnadine. I’m afraid that I probably wouldn’t be able to see what is before Deimus’ eyes. Can’t help talking to a king if I can’t see or hear him. That, and a library! I can’t imagine what sort of knowledge might be found in a place like this.” His eyes lit up with anticipation. ”This could well be a once in a lifetime experience.”
"I had forgotten about the Goblin King. We should treat with him, even if we do not need to secure shelter any more. We need more information and allies. Maybe some of our interests align."
"Thank you Hrungnir. If you can see that Ruin poof, you should be able to see the Goblin King, I think. We should all go together." Carnadine suggests.
As the veil lifts, Kjeta sheds a tear at the beauty she's been unknowingly surrounded by for the last five days.
Turning to Ulrika, she says, "By all that's good and holy, I'm glad to finally see this place for what it is."
When Carnadine discusses entering the joust, she whispers to the artist, "Say...are there any prohibitions against an entrant benefiting from enchantments cast by their admirers, either before the contest or during?"
. . .
Once Kjeta realizes she can see much that was previously hidden, she becomes curious about the dogs in the Librarium. She goes for a look (along with any interested companion). When she sees them, she bows and introduces herself, "Greetings, I am Kjeta Strongmalt."
. . .
When Carnadine suggests a trip to meet the Goblin King, Kjeta nods enthusiastically. "...And perhaps he'll have better taste in beverages than these fey elves do..." she mutters to noone in particular.
Lexi makes her way quietly to the fourth training grounds and starts watching the duels while waiting.
At some point, Lexi mentions the passage she discovered regarding the goblin court (). The strange butter coated lock has been re-fastened, and just as easily the picks re-unfasten.
The party again passes through the little storage room (), finding a strong temptation to sample one of the amazing smelling hot rolls cooling in the hundreds.
Lexi points out the goblin sized passage on the opposite wall, and the party slowly squeezes through...only this time they get jammed multiple times as many goblin servants are constantly coming and going.
The main hall of the goblin king is even more decrepit and fowl than Lexi remembered. To approach him and speak means crossing a long blood stained carpet.
No one seems to be paying you much attention yet. There are busy goblins everywhere consumed by their work, so it seems.
With my new status, can I see that it's small dragons that are following me around and not just floating lights?
When Carnadine discusses entering the joust, she whispers to the artist, "Say...are there any prohibitions against an entrant benefiting from enchantments cast by their admirers, either before the contest or during?"
"While technically there is no regulation against it, its frowned upon by certain 'purists'."
Once Kjeta realizes she can see much that was previously hidden, she becomes curious about the dogs in the Librarium. She goes for a look (along with any interested companion). When she sees them, she bows and introduces herself, "Greetings, I am Kjeta Strongmalt."
Theres about a dozen black dogs sleeping in the back of the Librarium, which has been converted into a kennels of sorts. There is a collection of enormous bones strewn about...around half the dogs are snoring softly.
"Woof?" one cocks its head and replies.
Hmmmmm, The Alemaiden runs her fingers through her thick red hair. Is this more like training Midgardian dogs? Or will these turn out to be more like that 'Owl' I befriended??
She decides, based on the Woof to go with what she's familiar with, so far. She takes a piece of jerky from her rations, breaks it into small pieces, and throws it to a few.
For a moment she's taken aback by their reaction, but she finds her center again and--in a low, calm, steady, alpha voice--speaks to them and approaches slowly, her hand out for them to smell. "Heeeeey there doggies. Gooooood dooooggies. Yesssss, theeeere's a gooood dog!"
Knowing that he had no chance at this, Hrungnir merely watched in amazement as his fellow dwarf...talked to a dog. He wondered if this was a linguistic skill or was otherwise magical in nature.
Raseri having no interest in reading books and no desire to see the goblins follows Lexi.
While they walk, Kjeta passes what she's learned on to Carnadine.
"Up to you, it seems fair to give you a Blessing before you go...and at the very least you can have a mug of Blessed Brew, eh?"
When Carnadine discusses entering the joust, she whispers to the artist, "Say...are there any prohibitions against an entrant benefiting from enchantments cast by their admirers, either before the contest or during?""While technically there is no regulation against it, its frowned upon by certain 'purists'."
"I genuinely appreciate the support Alemaiden and have always enjoyed your brews. They bring me tremendous luck."
Off to the Librarium with Hrungnir and the Alemaiden, Carnadine marvels at the Alemaiden's skill with the dogs. His sire had kennels too for hunts, but the noble dhampir never cared enough about the replaceable creatures.
"That was unpleasant." The knight captain incorporeal remarks knocking the dirt and rock dust that he attracted from the goblin-sized passage from his attire.
The blood on the carpet does not bother Carnadine the way it might others. The red knights altars at home are blood-stained in reverence to the Blood Maiden. No, what bothers him is the lack of tidiness. A facet of nobility is making yourself presentable by cleaning your kit, your shelter, and your servants. So, the Golbin King was not true nobility. On the other hand, the noble dhampir avoided many of the servant section at his sire's castle, so who knows and cares how they were kept. "I would avoid the carpet. It looks like it covers an obvious trap." He offers his companions.
When his companions were ready to approach, Carnadine walks along the right side perimeter of the carpet politely making sense with the goblin guard G at the corner to avoid walking on the carpet.
At the mention of the carpet, Deimus draws closer to Carnadine and follows his lead, though he is careful not to act as though he could be misunderstood as the Dhampir's servant.
Then as they approach, he reads the room to figure out the proper decorum in such a place.
Hrungnir is most dissapointed to find the library in complete disarray, truly forgotten. Scrolls are mostly food for worms, books bloated from damp dog piss...the whole thing has been converted into a kennels for the lazy animals. He might wonder if it would even be worthwhile to search this place...
Kjeta seems to make fast friends with the pups (). There's a slow clapping of the hands from up high...old wooden rafters on the ceiling angle overhead. A dark shadow that seemed to be nothing at first, then shifted slightly...a cloak dropped to reveal an elf sitting up there! "You found their weak spot...the stomach. But they prefer fresh venison." the man looks noble despite his odd perch, with wolfish facial features and a dark, tight leather armor. At least 10 knives glint across his person in sheathes...and he carries a dark orange ivory horn.
Kjeta smiles at the elf. "I dare say, hounds these fine deserve fresh venison."
She bows, and continues, "Kjeta Strongmalt. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Are these your hounds?"
No one notices anything particularly unsettling about the carpet...at least no pressure plates concealed beneath, or carefully aimed murder holes in its vicinity.
Deimus, you recall the relations between goblinoids and your people (goblins to be precise). Or rather the lack thereof.
Back in Midgard, goblins are slaves to wolflike creatures known as worgs ()...far out in the nature-less no man's land of the Wasted West. Its a place known for unpredictable magics, and nearly god-like behemoths called Dread Walkers. Evil creatures against all civilization, they worship a mysterious entity called the 'Goat of the Woods'.
Of course, this is a totally different dimension...how much of that translates to this side of the board is anyone's guess.
Thinking about it from a different angle, the idea that these goblins have organized into something as civil as a court suggests broad disparities indeed. The presumed king sits lazily upon the throne, fat as you've ever seen. It's as if someone took 6 normal goblins and rolled them all up into a ball of dough. The only thing that hasn't seemed to increase in size is the thing's skull...the crown a tight fit.
The elf smirks (on one side of his face anyways) explaining "I do not own them...no. These are the Black Prince's hunting dogs...I care for them. On the range, I like to think of them as brothers..." he casually slips off the rafter, falling to the floor but landing quite nimbly and almost without a sound. "Kolya...kennelmaster."
”The books!” Hrungnir blurted out. ”What happened here? So much knowledge, ruined! Knowledge is the one thing that might outlive the mountains themselves. How did this come to pass?” He asked, disbelief and pain in his voice.
"Ho there." Kolya regards Hrungnir for a moment, confused with the dwelfness "Rather...stocky for a brownie, aren't you? No matter...the library was moved some time ago. The Queen decided such knowledge was better in the hands of the palace nobility, not down here in the lower courts. Save the Shush Book, of course. Still...there is a certain arcane enchantment to this place...sometimes when sleeping dogs lie I hear the hum of mystical energies..." he waves his head back to clarity.
Turning to Kjeta "I was not aware your kind were skilled with animals...I would be interested to see how you handle the Margreve here outside our walls. Since you think they are so deserving, perhaps you could like to acquire some fresh venison? Less than half a days work, surely...the forests are plentiful."
"Well done, Alemaiden. I had no idea you had such a way with animals." Carnadine praises his companion.
"Well met, Kolya. I am Carnadine of Bruvik, Knight Captain Incorporeal. You've met the Alemaiden, the Hero of the Hops. This is Hrungnir, cursed dwarf and wielder of Snowcrash."
"We're new to the Shadow Court, so we've come to read our fill of the book of rumors. The Shush Book you call it? Can you tell us about it? Who is it's author?"
"Is the Black Prince another name for the Moonlit King? Or he someone else?"
"There is a strange horse in the stables being carried for by goblins. Do you know to whom it belongs? I need a mount for a challenge tomorrow against Zaerie Montylgrue, 3rd retainer of House Ruin. I can call my personal mount from the stables of my Red Mistress, but, my destrier is undead. And, first impressions are so important at court. Would it be better if I tried to borrow this strange horse?"
"Are there many elves at the Shadow Court? We've met Eracen the Court Musician in the courtyard. The only clue to his appointment is his constant companion, a hip flask. How about you? How did you become the Master of the Kennels?"
Kjeta smiles at Kolya and Carnadine's praise. "Well, Kolya, it's a pleasure to meet you...and your brothers.
"I'd be happy for a little hunt, as I suspect would at least a couple of my friends. May I take some of these beauties out on it? I'm sure they'd enjoy the fresh air as well.
"You clearly know the Margreve well. Anything I should keep in mind, for this little hunt? Any tips?"