Company+of+the+Phoenix+Session+19

**Visiting Myth Drannor and Introduction to the Wolfen**
 * 2-17-2017 **

As Tiri led her companions through the elven city of Myth Drannor, only about half of it was in the trees. The trees had been shaped as though the elves joined with nature in creating their city rather than carving a living out of it. Nothing seemed plain... everything was ornate and beautiful... as though the craftsmen were not concerned with time. There was a lot of tree and leaf motifs in their etchings. The beautiful spire buildings on the ground were either made of a white wood or a pristine white stone. The canopy of the forest shaded much of the city, but the trees were shaped to create beams of sun that passed down to where beautiful statues or fountains had been created. As they continued their tour, they seen a great many sculptures and works of art as Corellion promoted their artistic heritage.

Tiri told them how the Temple of Corellion had been recently restored and refinished... it had been crushed during the time of the demon fey. When asked again about the demon problem in the city, Tiri told them the story of how hundreds of years ago, the elves began to pull back from the mainland and gathered either to the isle of Evermeet or to the north... Myth Drannor was protected by a mythal, an ancient magical item of great power that elves created to protect their cities.

With Myth Drannor abandoned, its mythal fell into disrepair. A fey'ri queen named Sarya Dlardregeth secretly moved in. She carved it out as her kingdom where she pressed demons and devils into service. During the time of trouble when Ao banished the gods from the heavens, casting them down to the earth, there was a disruption in the weave of magic.. The mythal had been corrupted by that time and it struggled with how to defend the city, so instead of just banishing the demonfey from within it... it moved the city, leaving the people behind. 3/4 of Myth Drannor vanished... leaving a perfect missing sphere from the forest.  Some of the trees and buildings had been left with only half or part of what was once there... left with a curved sheer edge where the sphere had vanished. The ground eventually became the perfectly circular lake that the crescent city now curves around.

About 75 years ago, the elves came back to the forest to reclaim what was left of the city. Illsevele Miritar led in the elven armies and killed the demon fey still lurking in the ruins, vanquishing Sarya. The spirit of the city bestowed our lady Mirirtar with the Sword of Rulership. It was a sword that had not been seen in centuries. She is still the coronal of Myth Drannor today. While the city has been fully restored to the elves and rebuilt... much of the dark corruption still lingers in the Cormanthor forest.

"I would very much like to see where you grew up," Alaric suggested as she continued their tour, telling stories of elven history. Tiri nodded, "Well I grew up in this city... but I can show you some of my favorite spots." "Where you played in the forest?" he asked. She smiled, "Well we can go down to the lake... it's beautiful and we could go swimming there." "You can swim in the lake?" Alaric asked, raising a brow, "There's no demons in it?" "Well... We swim in it," Tiri nodded. "That was a very interesting answer... you didn't say no," the sorcerer eyed her with suspicion. The young priestess laughed, "Well I can't honestly say no... I've never been to the bottom... and corruption takes many forms... but I've swam in the lake even as a child." "So there may be some... demon shark... lurking about?" he asked with a smirk. She laughed again, "Well maybe... but I've never seen one." "Well we can certainly go see this lake... it could be fun," he nodded.

"What about your childhood home?" he asked. "I grew up in the estate. It's the same home where I grew up," she assured him. He nodded. "But we should certainly go and visit my father's tailor shop," Tiri nodded.

The Embermoons were welcoming and kind to her guests. The food was delicious though different from Cormyr. The herbs and spices were unlike their homeland. There was a lot of fruit and vegetation dishes as well as roasted rabbit and venison. "You must tell us stories of when Tiri was growing up," Alaric insisted to her parents, "She is such a spirit and a firebrand now... she must have been a trial growing up. There must be so many stories to tell of her misadventures." Kaduin smiled, nodding, "Tiri has been in a hurry since the day she was born... she has constantly run off from one thing to the next." "She does have an adventurous spirit," Alaric agreed, "Always looking to the next horizon." "We are glad to have her," Charlemagne assured them, "I have nearly died many times... and she has always been there to pull me back from the brink." "She is a blessing of Corellion," Alaric agreed. Haemir smiled, "We are pleased that our daughter has been able to cast such blessings upon you... and we are certainly grateful for the sacrifices you have made on her behalf." Tiri nodded, "Were it not for them fighting before me, striving to keep me safe... I would not have returned." "It's nothing really," Charlemagne feigned modesty, suddenly looking down at the table.

"That is quite noble of you to say," Kaduin nodded, "Which part of Cormyr do you hail from?" "I hail from Suzail ," Alaric answered, "That is where my family is from. The jewel of Cormyr." "Yes," Haemir nodded, "I have been many times." "Next time you are there, please stop at the Goldsword estate near the palace. We would be honored to show you our hospitality," Alaric assured him. "We may well take you up on that," Kaduin nodded to him, and turned to Charlemagne, "And you? Where do you hail from?" "High Horn," the muscular warrior answered. Haemir nodded to him, "I thought you had the cut of a military man." "His father is quite prominent as a military man in fact," Alaric replied.

Charlemagne nodded, "We are quite enjoying your city. It's an astounding place. I've never seen anything quite like it." "Tiri has told us so much about it, and yet it has surpassed even the expectations that she was able to give us," Alaric agreed. "Your mother would be very proud of you," Kaduin smiled at the nobleman sorcerer. Tiri shook her head and laughed, "I don't think their expectations were so high... they called it rustic." "Rustic," Kaduin smiled. "I think that Tiri is exagerating," Alaric shook his head. Charlemagne quickly changed the subject, causing instant chaos, "I've come to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage." "Wait! What?!" Tiri blinked in shock, thinking surely he must be hoping she had a sister, "They only have one daughter." Haemir looked at his daughter with a raised eyebrow, and the young priestess shook her head, "I'm certain he was just kidding." Haemir nodded toward Charlemagne, "You were kidding?" Charlemagne grinned, but before he could respond Alaric went on to continue to talk up Tiri and how she had saved their lives countless times... he took pride in getting the young priestess to blush from his continued compliments. "It's a fact," Charlemagne agreed, backing him up. Nalen and Rhain joined in the conversation, adding up the compliments. Tiri did her best to get words in to talk about all of their great skill and talents. Alaric went on to tell them about how the shadowvar were stirring up trouble in the desert and some of the other difficulties they had faced. Charlemagne pulled Ashweaver from his scabbard to display for her parents. Haemir nodded that it's craftsmanship was lovely, but he really knew nothing about swords. He had been a tailor his whole life. "It is one of the nine," Alaric explained, "Tiri has one as well." The blue haired elven woman nodded, bringing it out to show them, "I got it from an angel." "You took it from an angel?" Haemir suddenly looked shocked. Tiri shook her head, "She had fallen... like a meteor from the sky... hitting the ground to be nothing left but a skeleton with ragged wings just before she faded into ash that blew away in the wind." "We had heard rumors about a war in the heavens," Kaduin shook her head, "So it is true then?" Tiri nodded, "I'm afraid so." "Is that how you got yours as well then?" Haemir asked Charlemagne. The group went on to tell the story of the underground dwarven ruins where Charlemagne received visions, and was pulled deeper beneath the earth to find where an elf had been fighting alongside dwarves against drow. "Drow," Kaduin spit venomously as she said the word. "He died well," Alaric nodded, referring to the elf. "And the drow were melded into the wall from the blast of that sword," Tiri assured her. "As it should be," her mother nodded. As dinner went on, most of them were the epitome of Cormyrian nobles on their best behavior, doing their best to make a good impression. Much to their delight, Haemir invited them all to come to his shop for proper elven clothing. Tiri took her companions back out after dinner, stopping at one of the younger crowd's watering holes, called both The Dancing House and The Hall of Drinks. Alaric tried to prepare his younger cousin, leaning in toward Alix, "Elven ladies do not buy their own coffee." Elves were famed for their wine... in Cormyr, nobles often kept elven wine to themselves as the best. The hall was illuminated by dancing lanterns and magical wisps of light. Tables and chairs were set up around the bartending area and much of the floor was open where people were dancing. The drinks being handed out were illuminated in various colors. Graceful and beautiful young elven woman were everywhere dressed in long gossamer gowns. The elves on the dancing floor, pulled back to clear away from Charlemagne and Karlissa as they went into their own dancing battle with their sharp kicks and dodging. Alaric expected to meet the young elf's friends, but most of the elves here seemed deferring to Tiri, seeing her only as a priestess of Corellion. Anuul watched with interest, drinking from her cup, but stayed quiet at one of the tables. As the others glanced toward her, they noticed she had taken on a human form... obscuring her kitsune features. The humans were seen as exotic... a race that lived life so fast... and several women danced with Tiri's companions. They dripped off of the charismatic sorcerer as they ooo'd and ahh'd over his spectacular presence. Alaric always returned to the priestess's side after each dance, making it a point that he chose her, in hope of leaving the other women jealous. Several danced with the very muscular Charlemagne, steering clear of his swift kicking feet. Several sat around with Alix, flirting constantly. The young nobles noticed several glares coming from the elven men. The queen was not spoken ill of by any of the young elves, but some of them complained that they weren't pushing back on the forest hard enough. They wanted to fully reclaim the forest of Cormanthor. There were still demons and the dark lurking there. Several talked themselves up as to what they WOULD do given the chance... (The time of the fey'ri was horrific... bringing a horde of creatures with them when they came through... taking elves and others back with them as prisoners... fey'ri were a mix of demons with elves and there weren't many elves who did that willingly.) Charlemagne, Alaric, and Alix impressed the beautiful elven women around them with great stories of battle. A single male dwarf approached Charlemagne, very interested in learning his dance. The warrior took him to Karlissa, asking her to teach him. He liked the look of the dance and believed his short legs would benefit him. The two went out to the dance floor and had a very good time. Charlemagne spotted Urd at a table next to the bartending area, his face feeling wonderfully numb. As he looked around, he noticed that everyone with the glowing drinks... now had glowing eyes. Even Tiri's sapphire eyes glimmered with a soft violet. "Go and talk to her, cousin," Alaric encouraged Charlemagne as he noticed his gaze across the room, "Do you need me to come and be your wing man?" He stood up. With the seat barely vacated, Alaric still standing in front of it, a nobly dressed elven man slid into it, "Why don't you go ahead and do that." "No, no, I got this," Charlemagne shook his head, standing up and glancing for a moment at the elf sliding into his cousin's chair, wondering who he was. "I'll occupy the priestess's time here," Mellevrim Windsong scooted his chair closer to Tiri. "I'm afraid my companion works best alone," Alaric shook his head at the newly arrived elf. Charlemagne nodded, it seemed things were fine here and he had something better just around the corner. He walked off toward Urd. "Me too," Mellevrim agreed, turning his back to the human nobleman as he turned to Tiri. The blue haired priestess looked unimpressed, greeting the newly arrived elf only by name, "Mellevrim." Urd was dressed in ranger gear, her hood down as Charlemagne approached. He smiled at her, "What's up?" She smiled, inviting him to join her, "Of all the places you could have wandered into... you found the Dance Hall." "I'm in!" Charlemagne flashed Alaric a thumbs up from across the room. Urd laughed. "How are you doing tonight?" the brunette warrior sat down next to the princess. "I am well," she laughed softly, "By the shine in your eyes, I can tell that you are enjoying yourself." He looked into hers that glowed with a jade-like green, "I love this city you have here... it's quite interesting." "It's become my home away from home," she nodded. "Where is your home?" he tried to clear and focus his swirling thoughts. She laughed, "Suzail..." "Right! I'm sorry," he shook his head. "It's alright," she patted him, "You're doing fine. What brings you here?" "Oh... we walked," he nodded to her. "I meant why," she laughed, "Last I seen the banner of the Phoenix was parading around Cormyr... so what brings you here?" "Oh! The letter!" he nodded to her, "My companion there," he pointed toward Tiri, "She had a letter to deliver from King Azoun about her brother." "It's very sad," Urd nodded with a frown. Charlemagne nodded, "So we're having a bit of a down night. All that hacking and slashing... it tends to take a bit out of you." "I understand," she nodded, "After spending a lot of time in the wood... it's nice to come back to civilization." "Exactly, blow off a little steam," he agreed, "Maybe you would like to dance later?" "Certainly," she nodded, looping her arm into his. She was light on her feet, very nimble. She followed his lead easily, making him look good. He made things up as they went, not knowing all of the moves, and still she followed him like it was planned. "I appreciate the dance," she nodded to him, "But I'm afraid I must retire for the evening." "Perhaps I'll see you again later?" he asked. "Certainly," She smiled, "Feel free to call upon me in Suzail." "M'lady," he bowed his farewell to her. Alaric had sat down at an empty chair at the table, refusing to be nudged out by this self indulgent elf. Mellevrim was going on about his mother, "You should really come by and see her." "If I have time," Tiri nodded, "I will stop by to see your mother." "She would very much enjoy that. As would I," he assured her. Tiri nodded, "She may have a letter or something for your sister that I would be happy to deliver." "She may at that. In fact, I'll suggest such a thing," he nodded. "What was his name? Mellevrim?" Alaric asked Tiri, interrupting, "I mean it's not like you've ever mentioned him." "Are you still here?" the elven noble glanced at the golden haired sorcerer, he turned back toward Tiri, "Keeping your secrets close to your heart?" Tiri looked a little disgusted, answering, "Or something like that." "Very good then," he nodded, "I'll tell mother to expect you tomorrow." "Only if I have time," Tiri raised a hand, refusing to commit to any obligation. "Go on," Alaric waved a dismissive hand, shooing off the elf as Mellevrim stood up. "Good day," the elven noble bid them farewell and left the table... a soft relief visible on the young priestess's face. "How did you come to meet such a ... charming... elf?" Alaric asked her. Tiri sighed, "He is Iowyn's brother... well half-brother." "She was the one we met in the King's Forest?" Alaric asked. "Yes, she came with me to aid Cormyr. She is a half elf. They share the same mother. Unfortunately her brother is very entitled and aloof," Tiri shook her head. "Is he a prince?" Alaric inquired further. Tiri burst out laughing, "NO... though he likely wishes he was a prince... He is a high born noble. Like you and your family in Cormyr." "He is not **my** equal," Alaric muttered more to himself, and nodded to her, "We should return to the Embermoon estate." "So what are our plans for tomorrow since we have delivered your letter," Alaric asked Tiri as the companions returned to her home. "We should visit my father's shop in the morning after breakfast," Tiri nodded, "And after that perhaps we'll resupply for the trip back?" Alix nodded, "I'd like to stop by the Bounty Hunter lodge here if there is one." Tiri nodded to him, "I'm sure we can arrange an escort." "I don't know why you seem like you feel so threatened, cousin," Charlemagne walked with Alaric down the curved hallway to their rooms. "I'm not threatened. I just don't like seeing anyone treat Tiri like that," Alaric shook his head, "That guy needs his head flattened like a melon." "He can't hold a candle to you," Charlemagne grinned, "We all know you are better than he is." "You have that right," Alaric agreed, "But it would have been better to say that there is no one better." Charlemagne paused for a moment, and then nodded, "That is what I meant to say." "You are always quite intelligent. I think that's why we get along so well." Alaric nodded to him, "I was stunned to see how well you handled Urd tonight. I was surprised you didn't lead her off to some private..." "No, no," Charlemagne interrupted him, "You have to take time first... make sure the hook is in deep." Alaric nodded his agreement, "It will be delicious... but that Tiri, Quarrelle, Ily'Aleera sandwich is going to take quite a bit of preparation." Charlemagne laughed as he stepped into his room, shaking his head. The following morning the companions went into the Embermoon tailor shop. It was unlike any of the tailor shops from Cormyr. This nobleman was able to weave a magic of his own, his creations were practically seamless. Bolts of soft silks lined the walls in various colors. The companions looked them over, choosing their colors. Alaric chose black and gold. Haemir nodded at his decision, "Something lightweight or something heavier for those cold days? I understand that Cormyr is a fairly warm climate." Alaric nodded, "Cormyr is warm and so are the woods, so light will do." The elven nobleman brought down different weights and textured silks of the softest quality, having Alaric choose. Haemir lifted his hand and five needles of thread seemed to move at his command as it looked like he conducted an orchestra around the charismatic sorcerer, creating the suit right on Alaric's body. Alaric held perfectly still, trusting in the tailor's work as needles dove around him, weaving their thread. The suit was perfectly custom fitted, fine elven embroidery done right on the spot. A golden dragon had been woven on the back of the black long-jacket. The young sorcerer admired himself in the mirror, impressed by the work, "Excellent! Your skill is remarkable. Tiri was correct... she spoke of your skill quite often." Haemir smiled at his daughter, "We shouldn't brag, young lady." "You deserve it," Tiri nodded to him, "Your skill is the best." He bowed humbly, "Thank you."

Haemir turned to Charlemagne, giving the muscular warrior his full attention as he showed him various colors and weights of silk. "I understand the mountains are a bit cooler," the elder elf nodded to him, "Would you like something light or heavier?" "Heavier," the young noble Rallyhorn chose his house colors of crimson and gold. "Very good. I don't get to work with fur very often," Haemir nodded, holding up fabric over the brunette nobleman. Haemir wove his needles around Charlemagne, elements of earth and fire trailing in the threads behind them. A bit of fluffy red wolf fur was added to the edges of his suit and lined the hood of his jacket. An elegant elven sword with threads of red flame was embroidered on the back. Charlemagne took a moment to admire himself in the mirror, quite pleased with the result, before thanking the tailor heartily. "My pleasure," Haemir nodded, "I do enjoy my work."

Lord Embermoon then turned to Alix, "And for you?" The young slayer selected a lightweight black and silver representing the Ebonhawk family colors. The elven tailor wove his needles around Alix's body, creating a fine elven suit with a ring of silver daggers embroidered on the back. "Would you like something as well?" Haemir smiled at his blue-haired daughter. "I'm already wearing your finery," Tiri spun around in a beautiful blue silk gown that allowed for her silhouette to be seen easily in the light, a long sheer white layer over the gown pooled at her feet, and a simple gathering of sheer blue barely slipped off of her shoulders to leave her arms bare, "Perhaps you can surprise me with something later." He smiled and nodded to her, bidding them a farewell as they left the shop.

As they walked along the intricately carved wooden walking paths down toward the white spires along the ground, they were met by Urd and a couple of elven rangers. "M'lady," Charlemagne offered her a sweeping bow, "Do you like my new duds?" The beautiful princess smiled, nodding, "Very becoming. I almost didn't recognize you." "He is quite dapper," Alaric agreed, nodding his greeting to Urd, "And how are you this morning?" "I am well," she nodded, "I am in service to the queen this morning." "Queen Illsevele Miritar?" Tiri asked, uncertain if she was referring to her newly crowned sister in Cormyr or the queen of Myth Drannor. "Yes," Urd answered her, "She has asked me to gather all of you." "We, of course, place ourselves at your immediate disposal," Alaric nodded to her. "Excellent," she smiled, looking over the group, "And you are already dressed for the occasion." "Fate works out that way sometimes," Alaric agreed, nodding.

Urd led the group to the center of the city to the palace that seemed to be grown from the earth in pure white stone at the center of the circular lake. A beautiful white stone pier led them to the entryway. Lord Dolnar, often referred to as The White Rose, welcomed them into the palace, "The Company of the Phoenix... Thank you for coming. I hope my summons has not alarmed you." "Not at all. We just had a delightful meeting with Tiri's father," Alaric nodded to him, "It's a pleasure to meet you. How can we help you?" "I was just admiring your new clothes. Lord Embermoon is an artist," Dolnar nodded, "As you may or may not have heard since coming here... the wood is still delicate." "I had heard some talk from the youth here of an outcry to purge the forest," Alaric replied. "Purge the forest... if we could only," the White Rose chuckled, "Many of our would-be allies are somewhat stranded in various parts of the wood. By stranded, I mean that we can not keep up relations because of certain parts of the wood." "What can we do to help?" Tiri asked.

"A tribe has reached out to us who we have had relations with in the past," Dolnar explained, "They are in need of aid." "A tribe of elves?" Alaric raised an eyebrow. "No, not elves," the White Rose shook his head, pausing for a long moment. "A tribe of...?" the young sorcerer prodded him on. "It's... difficult to explain," the Queen's right hand paused again. "We should probably know if we are to negotiate on your behalf," Alaric suggested. "Certainly," Dolnar agreed, "They are... a tribe of... Wolf-like men. Though they are not werewolves." "They are not gnolls?" Alaric inquired further. "Not gnolls," the White Rose shook his head again. "Wolf-like men," Alix spoke both in statement and question as he repeated Dolnar's explanation. "They are very tribal and very nomadic," Dolnar explained further. "And they live in the woods?" Alaric asked. "They've been returned to the woods," the White Rose answered. "They're not demons, right?" Alix asked. "No, they are not demons," Dolnar assured him. "And they are not kitsune?" Alaric asked, gesturing toward Anuul. "No, they are much larger," the queen's right hand gestured taller than himself. "Alright... well how can we help?" Alaric asked.

"They have a problem... the details of which I will let them explain to you," Dolnar nodded, "But I have heard of your reputation and I believe you are the band for the job. Urd can lead you to them." "Ahh, so the princess will be joining us?" Alaric asked. Dolnar paused for a short moment, and then nodded, "Yes." It was unclear by his expression as to whether he was surprised they knew she was a princess, or if perhaps it was so uncommon to associate her as a princess by her own wishes that he'd simply forgotten. "We will gather our gear and set off immediately then," Alaric assured him. "Excellent! You are the people I believe you to be then," the White Rose nodded. "It is an honor to serve," Tiri curtsied gracefully. "Thank you," the queen's right hand nodded, "May Corellion's hand guide you." "And Mystra's as well," Alaric smiled. "Certainly," Dolnar agreed.

Urd led the group deep into the forest where it got darker and felt cooler. She drew them off of the path with a whisper as she put a single finger to her lips, "Make no noise." Massive dragon-sized shadows moved by them without a sound... as they moved further away, the area grew lighter. They all breathed out with relief, and Urd nodded, "It's safe to move." She continued to lead them on. They traveled the woods for 2 or 3 days, following Urd's experience. They seen strange things... some incorporeal, some tangible... most terrifying. They moved over streams and ever deeper into the wilds of the forest. Finally, Urd made a bird call whistle that was answered with a similar call, and an enormous wolf-like man came out to meet them... He was 7 foot tall with a thick body of muscle... completely covered in fur with a big wolf face and furred tail. He loped out of the woods, tribal tattoos dyed into his fur.. He looked over the group curiously and waved them toward him, with a growly voice, "Welcome. Come in." Urd gestured toward him as they followed him in, "That's Bo."

"Come. Bo take you to Nanook," the massive well muscled wolfen led them past the blind he had been in toward his city. Skins were stretched over enormous wood spears making tent like homes. Other wolfen could be seen tanning hides and leather-working at tables inside one of the tents and a ring of metal could be heard in the distance that they recognized as blacksmithing. Anuul's tail couldn't stop wagging as she walked alongside Bo, her voice was a little breathy in her excitement, "Hi!" Bo led them to a much larger tent and gestured to the other side, "Nanook and Nahni." The group followed his pointing to see a very large male wolfen sitting on a throne with a female wolfen at his side.

Alaric led the companions up toward the throne where they bowed respectfully, "Greetings. We are the Company of the Phoenix. We heard that we may be of some assistance to you." "It is good that you have come," Nanook nodded, "Help us with... relationship... with the elves." "It is our pleasure," Alaric assured him, "The elves are friends to our people as well. We hope that we will be able to bring you together." "That is our hope," the large wolfen nodded, "Our trouble... as you no doubt have heard of... We must seek our leader and kill him." Alix blinked wide eyes, whispering to the others, "He wants to find their leader and kill him?" Ignoring his cousin, Alaric addressed the wolfen on the throne, "I thought that you were the leader." "Since he has lost his mind... I am the leader now," Nanook nodded. "I am sorry," Tiri nodded to him, looking genuinely saddened for their loss. "Not as sorry as I," Nanook nodded to her.

"What caused him to lose his mind?" Alix asked. "He is touched by the demon fey," the wolfen leader answered, "He was spawned of my people and theirs." "He went bad?" Alaric asked. "Has always been bad," Nanook explained. "Why do you seek our aid in killing him now?" Alaric asked. "It is written in our world that he must be felled by someone not of our pack," Nanook explained further. Alaric nodded, "Taboo?" "Yes," the leader nodded. Charlemagne grumbled under his breath, "How convenient..." The sorcerer nodded again, ignoring his warrior cousin, "Does he have followers? Or is he alone?" "He has joined the corruption of this wood," Nanook answered, "None of us follow him anymore... but before we can return to our lives in this world... We would like to see our past undone."

"Do you know where he dwells?" Alaric asked. "To the north," Nanook gestured out of the tent towards the north. "Willl we need a guide? Or will Urd be able to show us the way?" Alaric asked. "Little Ears can help you. She is the round eared elf." Nanook gestured toward Urd before continuing, "Can you help us with this?" "We will certainly do our best," Tiri answered, nodding. "What is our reward?" Alix asked, much more hesitant to accept. The elven priestess glanced back over her shoulder, speaking patiently, "Our reward will be to help their relationship with the elves." "What do you treasure?" Nanook asked, looking directly at the slayer. "Coins," Alix answered. "Sadly we do not have coins of the realm," Nanook shook his head. "Hmph," Alix grumbled. Alaric turned to Alix, trying to assure him, "I am certain for our successful negotiations that the elves were reward us suitably." "If we live," Charlemagne agreed.

"What else can you tell us of this former leader of yours?" Alaric asked, turning back to Nanook. "He is larger than us... stronger than us... and faster than us," Nanook answered. "And apparently crazy," Tiri added. "Are there any other abilities not normal to your people?" the sorcerer asked more specifically. "He has some... sorcery," Nanook answered, "I believe that he is bound with the corrupt forest of the area... You will not fight him alone. There are others that will come to his aid... none of **us**, as I've said, but there are demons of the wood who would aid him.... darklings and corruptions of the forest." "They should be put down anyway," Tiri nodded to him. "As quickly as possible," Nanook agreed.

"Do you have any weapons of silver?" Alaric asked. "That we have," Nanook nodded, kicking over a large chest of various silver weapons. "How much for the arrows?" Alix asked, looking the pile over. "Take them," Nanook nodded, "We will make more." "Thank you," Tiri nodded graciously to the wolfen. Nanook nodded to her, "Silver is what we specialize in. Silver is given to us by the moon goddess..." The young priestess touched the elven weapon at her hip, "Do you have a liquid that we could coat our own blades with as a temporary option if necessary?" The wolfen nodded, gesturing to an alchemical bottle of silversheen for her to take. "This is perfect," Tiri picked it up and bowed, "Thank you." Charlemagne picked up a simple silver longsword, sliding it into a second scabbard. Alix picked up a silver dagger along with the arrows.

"He is savage," Nanook warned, "He has already killed many of our people." "We will put him to his rest," Alaric assured him. "If you can do that... we would make you brothers of our tribe," Nanook nodded to him. "Such an honor," Tiri bowed, understanding that such a title must mean a great deal to such a private people. "Thank you, priestess," Nanook nodded to her.

Nanook pointed to the north, "It is less than a day's travel. If you do not travel this forest well at night, you would be better off staying here and leaving in the morning." Alaric nodded, "Then we will stay the evening." "I will get you a tent," Nanook nodded, gesturing to another wolfen who brought in several furs for them to sleep on one side of the grand hall. Charlemagne looked less than enthused about sleeping on the ground in such a place, but held his tongue. "Perhaps you can share some furs with Urd, cousin," Alaric whispered to Charlemagne as he walked by. Charlemagne smiled, raising an eyebrow of interest, "I will need to keep her warm."

The companions joined the tribe for dinner around a large campfire. A couple of the wolfen drank from skulls... one appeared to be some sort of deer skull while the other was a creature unknown to any of them. An elder wolfen with a grayed muzzle wore some sort of spectacles that covered his nearly blind eyes. He leaned heavily on a large staff with rings that went through holes driven through it, so it chimed each time it hit the ground. A necklace of runes was worn around his neck. From across the campfire the elder wolfen pointed at Alix, "You have brought the blade of sorrow to my camp." "I don't know what you are talking about," the young slayer shook his head. "Do you mean Doomsong?" Tiri asked, glancing at the dagger on Alix's hip. "Is that what you call it?" the shaman wolfen asked. Tiri shook her head, "Apparently that's what it calls itself." "Would you like to see it?" Charlemagne offered. "Ahh see it... that's funny," despite the words of sarcasm, the shaman didn't seem amused by the warriors humor, and he turned back to Alix, "Stop its wailing." "Stop its wailing?" the slayer blinked in surprise, "What does that mean?" "The dead gather around it. You do not hear the cries?" the shaman asked. "Nooo," Alix replied in a questioning tone, "I know that it likes to be wielded against the undead..." "It's deafening," the elder wolfen told him, "Put it away so I don't have to hear it." "Wait... you can hear it?" Alix looked at him with disbelief. The shaman looked to the others, "Is he deaf?" "He is not attuned to the spirits," Alaric shook his head, "His mind is rooted in the here and now physical world." Charlemagne nodded his agreement, "He lacks the attributes that you have... as we all do. You are extra worldly." The elder wolfen loped to his tent, leaning on his staff. Alix pulled the scabbard from his hip and put the dagger away in his pack at both of his cousins' urging.

"Hey, Anuul, you should show him your torch... I bet he could hear that too," Charlemagne looked around, drawing the rest of the companions to notice that the young kitsune was missing from their group. Across the camp, Anuul was sitting next to Bo and they were sharing a bowl of soup. Alix folded his arms, disgruntled, "I don't think I like this." The others laughed, fully aware of how much he had been flirting with all of the elven women in Myth Drannor.

The group exchanged stories of their excursions with the wolfen. The tribe was impressed, pointing at Charlemagne's blade Ashweaver. One of them came up with her own blade, touching it to Charlemagne's to hear the clang of metal as they all ooo'd and ahhh'd over it. "Oh! You can make more of these?" she asked excitedly. "No, there's only one," Charlemagne shook his head. "To wield such a thing, you must truly be great," one of them nodded to him. "He has slain many of foes," Alaric agreed. "The elves have sent worthy combatants," one of them smiled. Another nodded, "They bring this sword and the blade of sorrows... legends shall be written. Mark this day!"

"Did you want to send some of your own with us to witness for your stories?" Charlemagne asked. "We shall send The Herald," Nanook nodded to him. "Harold? Who is he?" Charlemagne asked. Nanook gestured toward the tent the shaman had entered, "The blind man." "He shall chronicle the battle," Alaric nodded. "He will stay out of your way," Nanook nodded, adding a shout at the tent, "Old man!" "We will keep him safe," Alaric assured him. "Yes, my friend here vows to keep him from harm," Charlemagne gestured at Alaric. "Let him get hurt," Nanook shrugged. "You don't care for your Herald?" Charlemagne asked with a raised brow. "He is old... lived past his time," one of the wolfen commented and shook the shaman's tent, clattering stuff within, "Say it is so!" "If something should happen... I'm sure he would die a heroic death," Alaric nodded. "We would rejoice!" Nanook nodded, "Passing on to the next realm and going home to the goddess of the moon." "I'm certain my cousin would give his own life to keep your Herald safe," Charlemagne added. "Or see that he dies a heroic death of honor," Alaric countered. A cheer erupted from the wolfen around them.

Two wolfen began banging bongo drums, and several wolfen danced around the fire. A large pipe was passed around the circle. As the hour grew late, Nanook told them the story of how his people had been kidnapped many generations ago from the southern isles by the demon fey... they had taken them to the fey world to be used as guard dogs, slaves, and breeding stock with the demons. Their pack was brought here during the invasion on Cormanthor when Sarya Dlardregeth claimed Myth Drannor. Once they came back to this realm, they were able to break the control magic and went free... other than their leader who was unfortunately still corrupted.