— King Dalthorian Stonesheild —
While Dalthorian changed out of his informal and slightly ink stained clothes into something more impressive and formal. From what little Gorazin had learned before rushing to inform him, General Stonefury didn’t seem to view the people she was escorting as enemies.
Dalthorian didn’t know her well but he did trust her judgment as not only one of his top generals but also someone who had lost family in the fall of the village. If the people with her were intentionally besmirching or usurping the honor of the original residents they would either be dead or in chains.
He debated whether to go straight to the throne room to await their arrival. Having them brought before him would send a message but making them wait would send its own message. In the end his impatience won out and he made his way to the throne with more alacrity than he would have admitted.
The hallways of the castle were not entirely empty even as late as it was but the guards and staff he passed didn’t comment on his ornate artifact class armor or his quick walking pace. He may not have enjoyed the pageantry of politics but he could still look every bit as imposing as his status and tier implied.
The throne room was large with tall vaulted ceilings supported by ornately carved pillars of red almost crystalline stone. The walls and ceiling were enchanted polished pale gray granite lined with bands of impressive murals ranging from great battles to the forging of powerful artifacts. Luminescent crystals mounted in ornate metal fixtures enhanced the depicted scenes. The floor was made up of a checkerboard pattern of mithril and adamantium tiles. Concealed along the wall were a few doors on each side that guards could enter from, or given Dalthorian’s own strength if anything actually capable of threatening him escape from. At the far end of the room opposite a pair of large rune steel doors was a pair of thrones.
One of the thrones was forged from rune steel with complex inlays of adamantium. The other was a complex crystalline throne that looked more grown into shape rather than carved. The symbols of the god of light and crystals Ammolithen glowed gently in the facets of the crystalline lattice of the throne. Sitting beside each throne was a small raised section of enchanted steel and crystal respectively.
Dalthorian slipped into the throne room and took his seat in his metal throne, setting his smoldering rune steel war hammer into the socket of the raised section of enchanted steel. Oftentimes his wife Rauni would be sitting beside him for such meetings but she was busy attending to her duties as a grand paladin of Ammolithen just as he’d been dealing with his own bureaucratic responsibilities.
Gorazin had gone ahead, and had gathered a small group of royal guards who stood along the walls of the room and was himself positioned to the side of the three steps leading up to the pair of thrones.
No more than ten minutes, at most, after taking his seat the large double doors were opened by a pair of guards and General Stonefury entered followed by a group of thee rather distinctive figures, a half a dozen of her troops remained standing in the hall beyond.
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As the group approached Dalthorian set his face into an impassive stern expression and examined the trio more closely.
All three had been allowed to retain their weapons, which was mostly performative like so much of what happened within that room. Depending on the visitor it could be seen as either a sign of trust or an indication that they were not viewed as a credible threat. Leading the trio was an elven woman in battered but fairly well made armor with a impressive two handed sword held at ease propped against her shoulder. Despite being summoned before him she walked with the grace of a talented swordswoman and the confidence of a lord. Just behind her on either side was a clearly undead partially petrified dwarven man and a pale skinned gorgon.
The dwarf was dressed in simple traveling clothes, mostly leather and chain reinforced linen, though rather than the more typical browns or grays he wore bright blues with purple accents. Of more note were the ornaments woven in his beard and the cooking ax at his side that identified him as a former soldier of Stoneshield.
The gorgon was dressed in a well enchanted robe with no weapon clearly in sight. Judging from the fact the mana in the enchantments matched her own it was clear she was a mage of some sort, likely an enchanter. She also had glowing red eyes that Dalthorian hadn’t initially noticed from across the room. It was likely, albeit not certain, that she was also an undead.
When Dalthorian looked again at the Elven woman now that they were closer he noticed her eyes were swirling orbs of dark water with a flickering green light glowing in their depths. Combined with her pale gray skin he suspected the entire trio were various forms of undead.
Fortunately the general was still very clearly among the living. Dalthorian was just wondering where the necromancer who’d raised the group were and why they were being treated as the leaders of the new Still-Leaf Village when they reached the spot just in front of the steps. General Stonfury gave a formal salute and said “My Liege.” as the trio of undead all gave some form of bow. The dwarf kneeled one fist on the ground the other across his chest. Gorgons weren't exactly built for kneeling but she coiled her tail and bowed at the waist. The elf gave a respectful if somewhat shallow bow holding her sword point down before her.
Ignoring the trio for the moment Dalthorian nodded to the general and said “General Stonefury, Explain how ya came ta’ stand before the throne with a trio a’ undead behind ya.”
Without pause General Stonefury gave a brief overview of the beginning of the mission she’d been assigned until they arrived on the surface some miles into the forest. She explained in more detail finding the rebuilt, if somewhat rough, road to the village and meeting up with the group from the village. Soon explaining that in addition to claims that the village was resurrected by Mortis the apparent village leader was a royal from the Steel Coast Archipelago. In order to ascertain those claims her forces had continued under the command of Minira and to both carry out her orders and prevent a potential diplomatic issue she’d escorted the proclaimed royal and the village counselors.
Dalthorian was careful not to let it show on his face but he was feeling increasingly incredulous the further into her report General Stonfury had gotten. While the blade the elf held was certainly that of a Tidecarver officer her story of being royalty was somewhat unlikely. The idea of a goddess well known for taking souls on a one way path beyond the veil and not providing any other blessing or contact with the living world deciding to resurrect an entire village as various forms of undead was somewhat ridiculous. That those undead were free willed with both their souls and minds intact was almost entirely unbelievable.
Dalthorian suppressed a sigh and after a second pulled out a thin violet crystal and channeled some mana into it to open a connection to his and mentally sent “Dear, I need ya back a’ the castle. I need ya to check if some undead were raised by Mortis.”
Moments later her reply arrived in the form of her bright laughter and her voice saying “Aye Tha' does sound Interesting.”
It wouldn’t take long for her to arrive, but it would be to long to just wait in silence so he at last turned his attention to undead elf and said “Clearly the only way we’re gettin ta the bottom a this it start digging. What’s Yer story.”