BECMI Chapter 218 – The Words of a King

There were a lot of arrows pointed my way, none of which I was worried about, deliberate or inadvertent. removed a tremendous amount of threat from elven guards.Likewise, effectively made me immune to Warrior-Path elven spellcasting, and I didn’t see any elven Wizards of any ability among the guards.

“Hold where you are and identify yourself!” a strong tenor sang out in Elven, the owner up on the wall above the gates as Duum glided politely to a stop, wings ceasing to move and hanging there like a big black-and-red monstrosity of the underdark… with a top hat and monocle worn with style, and my splendid saddle of Black and Red dragonhide over dragonbone on his back.

“Lady Edge, here at the invitation of His Majesty and the Elven Council of the Sidheduiche. I had some time and thought I would stop by and see if they are available,” I replied calmly, unruffled by all the eyes on me. We were in no danger from them. “Do you need to see my invitation?” I inquired of the speaker atop the gate.

He looked quite wary of me, but it was his job to be suspicious, and an elf of indeterminate tribe riding a monstrous Bat was a good reason to be alert. “That would be most helpful… Lady Edge,” he finished, belatedly recognizing the name as someone known to the Princess of Erendyl to the west.

There was a pop as said invitation appeared in front of his face. He blinked and started to grab for it, except it just hung there, and then the scroll opened itself up in front of him for him to read.

That was definitely the royal seal and sigil there, and while they might be faked, it would be very difficult to do so. Still, the gate warden paused, discomfited by the bright red apparel and the… unique appearance of the giant Bat, floating lazily there in midair without batting its wings… and with a ridiculous hat and eyepiece on itself, too!

The dichotomy was a bit much for him, and he was about to shout out that he would send a messenger to the king to verify matters when the voice of that very person Whispered in his ear,

“Yes, my king!” he replied promptly, waving his hand hard, and all of the bows around dropped instantly. “Lady Edge, by order of the king, you may enter freely!”

“Thank you, gate commander. If you’ve children, my Familiar likes to give rides to them. He will be outside the palace shortly.”

The elf blinked as Duum flicked his wings, shooting up with impossible agility, spun through a roller-coaster spiral lazily, monocle and hat unmoved, and was over the gate and slowly winging his way around the town of wooden walls and arches and towers, looking about with clear interest.

he thought, looking after the incredibly pale elfin with some trepidation. Would he even let his children near such a strange and unusual beast? They were being extremely obvious and plain in their movements, as if uncaring so many eyes were on them, and the bat was proving to be incredibly maneuverable, flitting between bridges, arches, and buildings with a deftness that looked effortless.

But the strange elfin was here to see the king, and had quietly been spoken of in glowing terms by the Erendyl elves who had visited… not that elves living outside the forest like they did were the most reliable sort of elves, but their words had to have some weight of truth behind them.

They’d come back to the forest in time, regardless…

I set down in front of the ‘palace’, which was really just a monstrous hlatal tree a good five hundred feet wide encouraged to grow in breadth and styles that resembled carving, shaping itself into living towers and halls that were clearly superior to any buildings wrought with non-living materials, yes, indeedy.

I noted the Wards were not at all that impressive. As a matter-of-fact, except for some Divination Wards, they were mostly non-existent. I had to wonder about their personal security. Even if the guards all looked to be at least Sixes, which was impressive, this was an impressively laissez-faire display of security at the very least, as if they didn’t think they had anything to fear here.

I knew that to be a lie, because I’d done a sweep of the whole city, and there were six shadenelves among the population here. Somehow, I doubted the native elves knew that they were of my people.

I tucked that into my arsenal of tricks, wondering just how badly I was going to shake things up here.

Probably pretty badly, considering two of those distant tribesmen of mine were inside the palace here.

I’d used Magevoice, and so the whole city had heard me when I arrived. As a result, there were more than a few curious eyes around the plaza in front of the palace.

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Duum leisurely swooped down and in, more graceful than any bird, dragon, or other flying creature should possibly be, and alighted without a single flap of his wings or stirring up of dust.

I noted that quite a few wide-eyed children, both elven and of other races, had heard my reply to the gate warden and come racing to the plaza to see what exactly was coming in here that they could get rides on.

The great and ferocious Bat with the scary saddle worked in dragon skulls and flowers looked VERY impressive in his top hat and monocle. The palace guards also looked rather intimidated, judging by the way they’d clutched their mithril-head spears, their pattern-leaf armor d to green and gold and looking very elvish and very impressive, especially if you weren’t an elf.

I slid smoothly down Duum’s wing to the ground, skating across it towards the gate guards, pausing before them calmly as they focused on me. Both were taller than I, but I was also hovering a couple inches off the ground, so we were basically eye to eye.

Their blue eyes couldn’t hold my red-eyed gaze, and they decided to look past me and wait for the castellan to appear and escort me in.

Said elf came up quickly, actually a studied show of power, since I’d given him plenty of time to be here when I arrived, and he’d chosen not to be.

I was not a Sidhe elf, so no need to be terribly respectful, regardless of what Belle had spoken of me.

He was an older elf, taller and ascetic, clad in shirt and jacket of silk and gold thread of expert elven make, with bright blond hair and a remarkably serious goatee to him. His hauteur faltered and kind of broke when the music started playing in the thaumaspectrum, and whatever spells he had memorized began to chime in solemn, somber chorus inside his head, as did those of the guards. They all flinched as they stared at me and the way the magic started to flex around me, and the arrogant castellan, too used to dealing with outlander humans and others, hastily revised his mannerisms as I moved my gaze to rest on him.

He couldn’t hold my eyes, either.

“Lady Edge!” he said with great false cheer and a hasty smile that was only a little bit forced, more respect and sincerity in his voice and words than intended, his subvocals hastily indicating . “I am Castellan Removyl. Welcome to Sidhetown, the Relarin, and the nation of Sidheduiche. Please, allow me to escort you to the king.”

He held out his hand formally, and I deposited the invitation scroll into it without moving. He stifled a cough and made a show of opening it, inspecting it, and closing it that fooled nobody, but ceremony was what it was. “Please, follow me! I trust your mount will be fine?” he asked, turning and sweeping out an arm in invitation.

I stepped forward and took it, much to his alarm and surprise, especially the way all the magic on him promptly thrummed at the contact. “He is fully sapient and likely more intelligent than ninety percent of the souls in this town, Master Removyl. He will be fine.”

The most curious kids had already stolen forward to inspect him, and Duum had promptly straightened up to put on a show for them, switching his hat from one side to another and looming up high as he brought his wings in for his best mysterious cloaked outsider Bat look, dun dun dun!

The kids of five different species, a centaur among them, and at least four tiny Fey, probably sprites, squealed and ate it up.

“I see.” He kept his arm at the proper angle, I was completely weightless as I glided along next to him, light as a feather upon his arm. “Your appearance caught us by surprise, Lady Edge, but you are in luck. All the members of the Elven Council are in town now, and doubtless are being gathered to greet you. The work you’ve done in Erendyl has made it even to our ears here!”

He was basically realizing that the stories he’d been told were true, and he was suddenly on very best behavior. Being only an Eight himself, he realized he’d best be careful, despite having at least four centuries on me in age.

“Minor projects undertaken in my spare time,” I brushed it off lightly. Which, to me, they were, even if they were the foundation of sweeping movements in Erendyl. “I understand you are a third cousin once removed to Princess Brittabelle?”

He looked rather shocked I knew his lineage, but elves take note of family, and unsurprisingly their lineage goes back a great distance in time. “Yes, my family has served the royal house since First King Feirlunl founded the Relarin itself!” he stated proudly, head and chin coming up. “Are you, perchance, related to us?” he inquired carefully.

“All elves are related, Master Removyl,” I replied as he escorted me through chambers carved with the most wonderful wood-working and carving I had ever beheld, walls and ceilings telling stories of the forest and the Sidhe, the founding of the nation, and the heroes and battles that had defined it. It was fantastically ornate and detailed, and if you weren’t looking for it, just looked like complex iconography carved into the living hlatal wood of this immense Home Tree.

“My line and yours diverged approximately fifty-five generations ago, in the ancient homeland of legend. We immigrated to this continent over two millennia before your line did so. So while we are indeed related, it is very distant, indeed.”

“You know of Ourphea?” he asked hesitantly, naming the ancient and mystical rumored homeland of the elves, which no living elf he knew of had ever found.

“I know two people who have been there, although the land itself is not what it was.” Because the frozen ruins of it were buried under the northern polar cap, not in the south, as Briggs and Sama had stumbled across coming out of the Hollow World. “The very world has changed since the days of our ancestors, Elder, and as we are not them, we have changed with it.”

The castellan was suitably disquieted as he digested that, lack of change in their lifestyles being rather a hallmark of conservative elves. “As you say. Princess Belle of Erendyl speaks highly of you, and there was a… marked difference in her on her last visit to see her family here…”

“Good things happen to good people, and she is a very good person,” I replied to his fishing for gossip as we closed in on what looked to be the chambers of the council. The doors were opened by two attentive guards as we approached, and the castellan ushered me within.