« (Silvanna Ironhoof) »
Silvanna watched as the queen departed from Whitewater Falls. She absently tapped the scroll case hanging at her waist. ‘Now if we can drag the Dark Trolls into this we’ll be set. Just have to wait until after the Festival of Life when everyone has to maintain a vegetarian diet for six days. Trolls have a very weird definition of vegetables and the elves understandably don’t like being considered vegetables. Mind you the military alliance between Aldrya and me will make most of the statis lovers think twice, I don’t really need the trolls. Much as I hate the idea I must send a delegation to the chaos loving Lunars. I’ll lay odds they’ll love this.’
Once the queen’s party had disappeared into the woods heading deeper into her kingdom, Silvanna turned and went to make her adieus to the Warden of the Northern Marches. ‘I’ll send Rufus, that scamp is enough of a freethinker that he’s better off as my ambassador to the chaos lovers. I sometimes suspect he’s met a riddler. But he is Drinna’s son and my great-grandson. Yes, that should work, he’ll either learn to hate the Lunars and come back to us with his tail between his legs or he’ll integrate and be as safe as any valued ambassador. I just hope Drinna will understand.’
With one final look round at the fast growing elven town Silvanna took her leave and headed homewards.
« (Lady Rivanna) »
Lady Rivanna was happy to see the last of her guests leave. It was always nerve wracking to play host to Heroes, with their vastly extended lives and excessive powers they tended to have a certain – disassociation – with the mortals they interacted with.
She smiled to herself, well she had time to go and visit with their local dryad. Dryads were so much fun when their daughters emerged from their trees for first time. Completely distracted, all worry and ambition. Melissandra was no different, that and her distracted frustration on missing all those little, oh so important rituals with friends and acquaintances.
Rivanna found Melissandra fussing over her daughter under the eyes of a handful of tree runners and two pixies. She almost tripped over the unconscious body of a goat-legged satyr. She grinned, looked like someone had walloped him over the head. Rivanna was surprised he was alive as she noted that Melissandra’s daughter looked very like an elf maid that was barely into her teens.
After an entertaining and relaxing visit Rivanna left to return to her duties. “Leaf-bright, see that a subtle cordon is set around Melissandra’s tree. While I don’t want any dead satyrs if it can be avoided, feel free to tell your folk I’d rather have a dead satyr than a raped child.”
“It shall be as you say my lady,” agreed the old runner.
* * *
A week went by and Rivanna was getting heartily sick of the satyrs. They kept wining about how it was their right to court just born dryads. The fact that Allisandra emerged fifty years before she was due cut no ice with the sex-obsessed idiots. And now Dyrissus their de facto leader was in front of her complaining about the death of one of his more obnoxious perverts.
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“Petal is barely sixty centimetres tall and slender. Witnesses heard her repeatedly saying no...”
“She’s a dryad! Dryads don’t mean no,” interrupted Dyrissus even as he puffed his chest up. “Fractius was a satyr. He was only asserting his god given rights to all dryads.”
Rivanna’s eyes narrowed and her lips thinned with irritation. “Petal is not a tree dryad. I’ll lay odds the rose dryads don’t subscribe to your delusions. Petal had every right to defend herself. As does Mellisandra in regards to herself and her daughter.”
“I’m going to appeal to the temple of Satiriapus. Then we’ll see.”
Rivanna watched the disgruntled satyr stomp off. She didn’t see the few elves waiting for her judgement look at each other and melt away preferring to wait for a better occasion.
* * *
Rivanna was glad to learn that the satyrs had left Whitewater Falls at dawn. She knew that they’d be back. And that they would probably be accompanied by a champion of their god. But she honestly didn’t care. It was about time they were slapped down again. And if needed she could call on Marty and Rosita. They should learn what being subjects of Aldrya truly implied.
Paperwork occupied her for a couple of hours then she was interrupted by her son; “Morning mum, dad asked me to warn you that Forest Lord Baliceius Goldleaf was spotted by one of the tree runner patrols. He should be here soon. He is only accompanied by one companion.”
“Thanks dear. Will you see the reception room is ready please.”
Alissor grinned, “Dad’s seeing to it mum.”
* * *
Baliceius Goldleaf and his brother Travasso strode into Rivanna’s reception room and bowed respectfully. Baliceius grinned crookedly, “Countess Rivanna, Lady of the Northern March, I salute you. I understand I am too late.”
“Possibly. But I believe the presence of the guild could still be useful. Not vital now, thanks be to the gods, but useful. Where’s the rest of your party?”
“They are on their way back to Riverbend. They went to Refuge but...”
“Yes. Those animals don’t know it yet but their days are numbered.”
Baliceius’ eyes widened in surprise, “Is this dungeon that rich in mana that we can finally go against Refuge?”
“No, but it has given us a boost, and Silvanna Ironhoof is going to help us. She has five hosts, a full army. It will be a joint effort.”
“Good!”
« (Marty) »
Marty and Rosita were studying their plans for their new level. It had become urgent now that they had ceded their first level to the elves. Neither of them were happy with their second floor but needs must.
Marty moved the two extensive mazes from his first level one each to the second and third floors. He replaced them with plain corridors.
They worked together and soon had two smallish floors ready. Then they spent days setting up their challenges and selecting suitable guardian beasts.
They emerged from their study when Petal came to them and Thorn, crying and distressed. Once Marty figured out what was going on he was furious. It took the combined efforts of Rosita and Thorn to calm him down. News of Rivanna’s judgement also helped.
Marty threw himself into expanding his dungeon, adding traps and adding a pair of wolverines to his third floor. Rosita was a bit worried but worked with Marty happily enough in bolstering their defences. They were both surprised by the boost they gained in having one floor basically empty of defenders.
« Next thing we need Rosita is information. I think I’ll ask Briar if she’s willing to go and talk with that elf girl Firomeena. »
“Why her Marty? Firomeena I mean, Briar is an obvious choice.”
« She has several plant related magics. One of those spells tastes of... the divine? »
“You mean she’s a priestess? Why is that important?”
« I need to figure out how to protect my girls from those satyrs and their evil god, that’s why. »