OK, I had to write a bunch of exposition, so it doesn't start in as fast as one might hope. We need to tell you who everyone is and get the conflict going.
PART 1--WORDS AND WIND
It was a warm day in Kerameikos as Duchess Chorinna held court in the shade of the great hall. The lavish dress laced up around her modest bust was a bit too warm where it clung tightly to her full hips and somewhat pudgy belly, but its red and gold cloth matched her throne, and she had chosen image over comfort today. Her advisors and courtiers had been offering counsel and making requests for the better part of the morning, and she had made gracious decisions, as was her custom. Lunch had been served, and the tables before her court were covered with more cakes, pies, and pastries, than any court could reasonably hope to consume in a sitting. But today, Chorinna had seemed slightly distracted. It wasn’t the presence of the delegation from the Magocracy of Glantri; they had been present in court for nearly a month now, and their interests seemed to be confined to asking for small gestures that the Duchess had granted easily. A lowered tariff here, trade access there; these matters were troublingly small to require the presence of Adrienne, the Archmaga’s foreign minister, and her two attendants. They had to be up to something. It was the other delegation that had Duchess Chorinna distracted. The elves had yet to arrive.
Alfheim and Glantri both shared borders with Kerameikos as well as each other, but, of late, there had been an unusual amount of tension between Archmaga Karana and Imathia, Queen of Alfheim. The Duchess was wary lest her court become a diplomatic battlefield for her neighbors to play out their machinations against one another.
As she settled a particularly simple dispute between two landowners, her eyes were regarding the Glantrian delegation. Considering they were sent to represent the Magocracy, at least one of them msut be a mage. She hadn’t seen them perform any spells in the weeks since they’d arrived--after all, magic was forbidden in her throne room--but it was unlikely that a high level delegate of the Archamaga’s court wotuld lack magic of her own. Adrienne, clad in a purple dress befitting someone of high station, was heavy-set, similar to Chorinna’s own build, but with larger breasts. One of her attendants was on the thin side, with black hair and browner skin, the other pale and considerably heavier than her mistress or the duchess. Adrienne sat quietly, it was clear from her deep-set eyes that she was clever and observant, a force to be reckoned with in diplomacy, hence her position. Her attendants, on the other hand, seemed bored and impatient. Chorinna sensed that they were waiting for something, perhaps the same thing she was. As the courtiers and advisors continued business as usual, unknowing, she had the sense something momentous was about to happen.
Outside, on the road to the keep, four elves walked, three in armor, one in the robes of a mage. Three of them were lithe, typical of elvenkind, but one of the armored ones was a bit fuller-figured, even by human standards. She also bore unusual makeup, her face painted in a pattern that showed her status as one of the Sylvanaria, those elves chosen to tend to and guard the sacred trees of their people. This, her armor, and the deference with which the other elves addressed her were all that would give away her status as a keeper of such sacred duty. For her bearing was light-hearted, jovial, and at times even frivolous. Maelyrra could be deadly serious when necessary; but no casual observer seeing her saunter down the road that day would have ever guessed that.
“Look, Elorien, just keep it out of sight,” she said to her comrade in the mage robes, “don’t bring it out unless you need to use it.” The robed elf frowned. “The amulet of Elathriel is not something you simply keep hidden. It is one of the most powerful artifacts known to our people. If we are subjected to search—“ “So it’s settled. You and Himnu will wait outside, Laurana and I will go in. That way, they may search us, but not you. If something goes foul, use the amulet.” “The amulet works only once every five turn-of-seasons. It is not to be used over a trivial—“ “This matter is not trivial,” Laurana interrupted, “Imathia thinks that it is important. That’s why she sent you—and the amulet.” “Shhh, stop now,” the dark-haired warrior warned, “we’re getting near to the guardhouse.”
As they approached the gate, the guards stationed there saluted as two of the tallest human women these elves had ever seen stepped forward, resplendent in shining platemail. They must have been nearly six feet tall. The one with her dark hair in braids spoke first. “Keeper Maelyrra? I am Giuliana, captain of the Duchess’ guards. I have been sent to escort you and your companions to the Great Hall.” “It is an honor, Giuliana.” Maelyrra offered graciously, as the guards turned around and led the way.
Chorinna was nearly lost in her thoughts about what the Glantrian delegation might really be there for when the doors swung open. Giuliana stepped in, saluted, and announced the elven delegation, “Maelyrra and Laurana of Alfheim, Your Grace!”
The elves stepped into the room proudly, but carefully, as if trying to inch their way through a wolf den without showing the slightest sign of weakness. They stepped forward and bowed to the duchess. Chorinna acknowledged them first with a nod, then spoke, choosing her words carefully. “What brings such illustrious company from nearby Alfheim?” Maelyrra opened her mouth as if to speak, then noticed Adrienne, who was smiling slyly at her. She seemed to lose her words for a moment, then turned her attention back onto the Duchess, and spoke.
“Your Grace, we have come to bring before you a pressing matter. Our neighbors and yours, in Glantri have, *buah* excuse me, been sending sp *burp* sorry, spies and scouts over our” The sudden urge she felt to belch seemed unnatural. This was unseemly, for a diplomat, for an elf of her stature, of her beauty…it was almost as if… “our Western border…” She looked back at Adrienne’s smile. Laurana saw it, too. Her hand, at her side, hidden to most eyes by her dress, making a small gesture, a cantrip.
Chorinna seemed puzzled, and shot a warning glance at her laughing courtiers. “Please, continue,” she encouraged. “We think *burp* that they, that the Arch- *toot* Archmaga plans to start *abup*” Laurana could handle this no more. They had been given an important message to relay about Glantri, and the Glantrian delegate was using magic to make a laughing stock out of Maelyrra as she spoke, rendering their diplomacy ineffective. Laurana thought to expose her methods, but no one would believe her. The warrior-elf was no mage, but she knew a small counter-spell, and began to mutter it under her breath. She had to protect Maelyrra, and make sure the Duchess took their message seriously.
Maelyrra continued, now less encumbered by the hostile magic as her friend’s counterspell started to take effect. “We believe the archmaga is scouting our borders because she plans to—“ It was at that very moment that Adrienne chose to stand up, pointing at Laurana. “Magic!” she shouted, “she’s using magic. You’ve all seen it. Arrest these elves.”
Laurana dropped the spell and looked back at Adrienne, shocked, as the guards who had escorted her in approached her. “But I only—“ “Lay down your weapons,” Giuliana demanded, “we only let you keep them at your side as a courtesy.” “Surely, Giuliana,” Chorinna started, “these elves intended me no harm.” “We are sworn to protect you, your Grace; magic has been forbidden in this throne room since the reign of Alexia VI.”
Maelyrra looked at Adrienne, still smiling back, “They have broken the law, away with them!” Shouted the Glantrian delegate. “Away with them!” the courtiers chanted in imitation. “Your Grace,” the elf interjected, “won’t you hear our case defense?” Chorinna nodded, over the nearly universal objections of her advisors and courtiers. Guards brought in a small pillory on a wheeled platform, and then another. Carved on them were runes of protection. “Antimagic stocks, your Grace, for your own protection, if you plan on listening to these elven witches.” Chorinna assented reluctantly as the elves were bent over into the contraptions. Meanwhile, Adrienne sat still, while the courtiers mobbed the restrained elves, slapping them about the flanks. Maelyrra’s wider-than-the-usual-elven backside was the focus of more than a few playful slaps. The contortions of her face at the front showed that playful or not, those smacks still stung. The Glantrian attendants who had looked so bored before had left their seats, each taking a small cake with them. Just as the pilloried elves were about to issue their defense, they were about to push the cakes into their helpless faces. But then, everything suddenly stopped.
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