The eastern foothills of the Glimmerstone mountains, particularly those south of the Luminarium, offer some of the most unique agricultural conditions in all of Venn. The warm prevailing winds from the east and imposing mountain backdrops combine to create a microclimate of warm summers and mild and wet winters. Settled by the elves hundreds of years ago, they found grapes had a natural affinity to the area’s loamy soil. Over time, the region became the continental hub for one of Elvenkind’s most universally admired products – wine. Terraced vineyards dominate over thirty miles of the landscape between Chagrothlond and the Luminarium, providing the only visual hint of civilization between the rugged peaks and the dense forests below. Renowned across the continent and beyond by those who can afford it, the wines of Eredmire, as the area is known both within the wider Elvish community and enological circles, are regarded as somewhat of a national treasure.
Respect for the region and its elvish heritage was so great that during the establishment of national boundaries between the Kingdom of Shan and the Elvish Commonwealth of Glahaneth, Eredmire was granted the rare recognition of extra-territoriality. Though surrounded by the human kingdom of Shan, it was acknowledged as a province of Glahaneth. In hindsight, this created several challenges to governance and security despite the longstanding positive relations between elves and men. Eredmire paid tallage to Gola-Didreth rather than Buhlent, but over three hundred miles and significant diplomatic wrangling separated it from the full force of the Elvish military. The council of Eredmire, as a result, had always enjoyed a high degree of autonomy in economic and military matters. Shan wouldn’t help them, and Glahaneth couldn’t – at least not quickly.
Arguably the most famous among the vineyards of Eredmire was House Eldracum. As the region’s largest producer, its patriarch - Fenir Eldracum - was a council elder and well-respected in the community. A non-compromising, stubborn wood elf, Fenir’s business acumen was undeniable. During his considerable tenure at the helm, House Eldracum rose from one of many within the Eredmire wine cooperative to the pinnacle of quality and brand recognition across the continent. The barrel mark of ‘EE’ – Eldracum of Eredmire - became a symbol of exclusivity and prestige at the finest tables and events, and the family’s influence and fortunes rose accordingly. Fenir had always hoped to pass the empire down as his legacy, but as they often do, his children had other plans. His daughter Gilieth found her passion in politics and abandoned the family business for a promising diplomatic career in Gola-Didreth. His son, Segwyn, showed great promise and natural ability for vinification and commercialization but walked away from the industry two years ago, choosing instead to put on the hood of the ranger within the provincial militia – The Verdant Blades. As good as any Elvish military with sword and bow, the Blades favored field-level decision-making over the strict command and control culture of Glahaneth. This philosophy provided squad leaders like Segwyn, with considerable latitude in protecting the interests, land, and citizens of Eredmire.
He and the eight under his command were patrolling the eastern foothills of the Glimmerstones when the Luminarium’s blue beacon flare belched skyward, rising in the afternoon sun.
He signaled the team to regroup.
“What do you think? Do we head North?”
“Not yet.” Segwyn paused. “Our duty is to the lands of Eredmire, which don’t go all the way to the Luminarium. Let’s head to the top of the ridge where we can get eyes on the range in both directions and see if this is something bigger.”
As quietly as smoke drifted through the forest, the squadron of Blades changed course to the highest nearby ridge. The elves wordlessly spread themselves along the crest, watched, and waited. An hour passed and the shadows of the Glimmerstones overtook their position driving the remaining daylight farther west. No additional flares broke the skyline from Chagrothlond to as far north as they could see.
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Segwyn focused his mind on his surroundings and released his magic, probing for any presence of inherent evil in the area. The familiarity of the terrain offered him a several-mile radius of detection. Nothing.
“Anyone got a visual? Magic isn’t picking up anything.” He spoke to no one in particular.
A chorus of negative replies echoed along the ridgeline as he weighed the options.
While there were some creatures he couldn’t sense, the magic covered most major threats: dragons, demons, undead, elementals, fey, devils, celestials, and aberrations. The monks at the beacons had no such limitations. Only one flare, it could have been anything. Maybe it went north, or they took care of it themselves.
“Only one ribbon doesn’t mean it isn’t something nasty. I would put us about fifteen miles from the border closest to the monastery. Let’s camp here and press north at first light. If we get within a couple miles of the Shand, I should be able to detect anything coming from that direction beyond our borders.”
More than comfortable in their wooded surroundings, the squad shared watch duties overnight, switching up every couple of hours. Segwyn took the first shift, allowing him to cast the spell once more before he settled down to meditate and recharge. Still nothing.
As his focus returned to the camp, Segwyn noticed his watch partner, a young elf named Neril, had joined him by the fire.
“All quiet?” He asked
“Yep, nothing moving out there. What do you think it was…that made them trigger the beacon?”
Segwyn shrugged, raising his eyebrows.
“Hard to say. It could have been anything.” Reading the apprehension in Neril’s body language, he probed. “You nervous?”
“A bit,” Neril admitted staring into the embers. “This would be my first combat since joining the Blades.” The ranger sized up the younger man for several seconds, letting his words hang in the quiet night air.
“Why are you here Neril?”
The recruit looked up, stammering slightly.
“To...to protect Eredmire” he replied, lifting his gaze to meet the eyes of his squad leader.
“No, that’s different.” Segwyn shook his head. “That’s our job…our duty. What I mean is, why did you decide to join the Blades?”
The young elf paused, pursing his lips.
“I dunno. Never really thought about it.” He raised his eyes to the right, reflecting for a moment. “I’ve always been good with the bow, and it seemed like decent pay for pretty easy work, I suppose.”
“The pay is good because the work is easy…until it isn’t. I suspect that’s what has you a little twitchy right now.” Neril opened his mouth as if to object, but Segwyn raised his hand, slightly lowering his head to forestall the coming objection. “When things get hairy out here, the rest of the squad is all that stands between any one of us and an unplanned journey to Avandor. Your life is in their hands, and vice versa. Deep down, we all know it. In those moments when the stakes are the highest, we have to trust in each other completely. What I’ll bet you’re asking yourself right now is - can I really trust these elves with my life? Or was it a big mistake joining the Blades?”
The ranger paused as the recruit shifted his gaze back to the fire’s glowing embers and gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“Now,” he continued “I can’t answer that for you, but…I would argue that at this moment - right here, right now - you have no choice unless you intend to desert your duty, your family, and your community. When we get through whatever this is or isn’t, let me know what you decide and if being a member of the Verdant Blades isn’t for you, I’ll sign off on the transfer. But until this is settled…” He gestured towards the squad tents across the fire. “… they need you… I need you… Eredmire needs you.”
Neril raised his gaze to lock eyes with his squad leader and confidently stuck out his arm. Segwyn returned the gesture, grabbing the other elf’s forearm in the customary greeting of the Blades.
“Thanks. That helps a lot.”
Segwyn gave him a down nod as the recruit furrowed his brow. “Can I ask you something?” The ranger nodded again in response. “Why are you here? You’re the heir to the most successful estate in Eredmire. Why choose this life when that’s on offer?”
He grunted in response, and it was the squad leader’s turn to gaze into the embers.
“Out here…” He paused, choosing his words carefully “Your successes and failures are inescapably your own – good or bad. In that world, I was never sure if my success was down to the size of my own shadow, or simply the extension of my father’s.” He returned his gaze to meet Neril’s “I want to author my legacy rather than be a footnote to his.”
To their right, the crack of a large branch punctured the stillness. Both elves leaped to their feet, and the ring of drawn swords responded.