House Mallorn ar' Celeb'ithil

I had just finished preparing the empty bedchamber. I looked around, feeling rather curious as this is the only other bedchamber at the end of this hallway, right next to that of Mistara’s. It is almost as big, but it is the contents that made me raise an eyebrow. Mistara was very specific that there is to be no wooden furniture in this chamber. Only those made of stone and metal are allowed. She had foreseen the construction of this chamber and its contents were handpicked by her.

Though I had thought it was rather unusual for a bedchamber, not once did I inquire as to the nature of its intended owner to Mistara. It is probably one of my qualities that had made me rise above the other hired helper around here to become Mistara’s favorite. It may also have something to do with me walking in on a silver-haired elven lady in Mistara’s chamber one morning, who was definitely not the Lady of the House. I recalled pulling my dagger, and threatened to call the guard then. The lady seemed more surprised at me walking in on her, rather than me pulling my dagger. She had made a strange gesture and uttered, “Was this who you were expecting?” I watched before my very eyes as her figure was transformed into the Mistara I knew…. or thought I knew. The tale she told me after I had kept to myself.

I exited the chamber, on my way back towards the hired helper living area, when I heard the bustling and hustling.

“Kesh! Have you not heard?” said one of the red haired maiden.

“Heard what? I’ve been preparing that mysterious chamber for the owner as was instructed by the Lady,” I said rather annoyed.

“One of the guard just came, there are a few men outside that had come with the guest that the lady has been expecting, we are to prepare guest chambers, and meals for them”, the red hair retorted.

“Well then I guess I better go see if the Lady and her guest may need anything”

I turned around going back inside the Great house, towards the Great Ivy Hall, just in time to see the Lady moving towards a…. red-skinned elf? I have never seen the like of him before. I watched as she held his hand, the expression on his face seemed to calm somewhat. I kept my place at a distance from the center of the room, but I made my presence seen, as to not be accused of eavesdropping. I can’t hear anything that was said, but after the handshake between the Captain and the red-skinned elf, everyone in the room seems to look a bit more relieved. I stood and waited at my post, I figured if I was to be dismissed I’d know soon enough.

“If my service is no longer needed m'lady, I shall return to the Watch Tower.”

“Captain, if the matter can wait, it would please me greatly if you could oversee the transfer of my belongings to its intended area. Some of these things are of great value to me and they are irreplaceable. If you are unable however, I do understand.”

She waited for his respond and simply nodded and smiled when he did reply.

“Dhar, let’s get this over with, as you and I have much catching up to do. Please lead the way.”

She noted Kesh's presence at one of the four hallways that feeds into the Great Hall; she nodded towards her and motioned for her to follow as Dhar led the way into the courtyard where the wagons are.

As the first wagon was opened to reveal its contents she saw a few small chests and knew what they were immediately. She motioned for Kesh, “These are to go to my private chamber Kesh. Perhaps a couple of the guards can help you with them.”

The second one contained quite a few more chest and crates of different sizes, all were magically sealed. She smiled recognizing the spell; she had taught Dharasha this particular spell a long time ago. “These are to go to the Great Library. Make sure no one touches these until I am ready to unpack them myself.”

She smiled at Dharasha, “You did a great job packing these my dear. I was worried they might get broken on the way.”

She walked towards the third wagon as it is being opened to reveal chest of uniform shape, along with quite a few scroll tubes. “These will also go to the Great Library.”

She turned towards Dharasha, and noticing a slight upward tug to the corner of his lips as he led her towards the fourth wagon. “Will you enlighten me as to the contents of these other two wagons? It seems that everything I had asked you to bring is all here.”

The upward curve on Dharasha’s lips is now noticeably going higher.

Ah, the captain seems like a reasonable man and I clasp hands with him in a firm grasp, making sure that I do not accidentally overpower him as I have several edain by accident, or worse, burn him by mistake. Following that, almost easy exchange, he asks for his leave. I smile within, knowing that only my eyes glow just a touch brighter. And was rewarded with Arniel saying, “Captain, if the matter can wait, it would pleases me greatly if you could oversee the transfer of my belongings to its intended area. Some of these things are of great value to me and them irreplaceable. If you are unable however, I do understand.” Impatient is not the right word for Arniel, rather, looking for an immediate closure to things is better. She continues, “Dhar, let’s get this over with, as you and I have much catching up to do. Please lead the way.”

As we are passing in the hall, I hear a set of footsteps approaching us. I glance to notice it is a serving maid with no drawn weapon. Since Arniel made a gesture for her to follow us, I turn my attention back to the path at hand. As I get to the doorway leading to the wagons, I scan the area, taking in everyone outside’s position, weapons, where her guards are and where my people are. I know right now that the house guards would not follow my orders, but the Captain’s. All the same, the next motions are the more critical. Noticing that the path is clear, I turn back to Arniel and nod, then lead to the wagons, whistling and gesturing to my men as we proceed. I pat my horse as we pass him, stroking down the nose, and fishing from my pocket a sweet which I give him. I whisper into his ear a phrase Arniel taught me and continue past.

As we approach the first wagon, I signal Argos, the Wagon’s lead driver, to open the wagon’s back, tossing back the coarse and heavy fabric to reveal the treasured contents. Recognition of the contents are immediately noted by Arniel as she tells the serving maid, named Kesh, I gather, to have the contents go to her private chambers. I gesture to Maldathar, the token wood elf of our party to help and command to him, “Aphado di. Garo a tirith i niben mîr.”¹ He nod, reaches for a small chest with his hand from the front of the wagon, then stands by Kesh.

The typical elven good looks are abound in this one as he smiles at Kesh and sketches her a bow while we continue on to the second wagon, his long golden hair slowly cascades past his face. “Lady Kesh,” he says quietly and he stands back up, “When you are ready.”

As we approach the second wagon, I quickly make a gesture and the drivers likewise open this one up to the examining eyes of Arniel. As she looks them over --examining the chests, I examine her face more closely with her beautiful hair the color of my favored longsword. The smile she favors to her face lightens my heart as I can see her approval. “These are to go to the Great Library. Make sure no one touches these until I am ready to unpack them myself.” she tells Kesh. Looking to me, I see her face lit up with the beauty I always remember, just by her smile alone. “You did a great job packing these my dear. I was worried they might get broken on the way.” I merely nod.

I signal Zeke to open his wagon as we round it. As Gabby is about to make a comment, I snap my fingers drawing his attention and raise but a single finger to my lips with the unheard words choking in his throat. After a quick examination of the contents here, Arniel pronounces them to go to the Great Library. So ends the easy three, that is, the items she was expecting. I see her turn to me and I can’t help what is coming now. I can see she see something amiss, “Rhaich” I think, “I am too predictable again.” I see her teaching look come upon her face as it was always the more serious look. “Will you enlighten me as to the contents of these other two wagons? It seems that everything I had asked you to bring is all here.”

Oh this is too good and I have the perfect excuse, for it was her family that forced these last things upon me to take to her, like the chest that Maldathar carries. I sigh gently, hanging my head in mock shame, knowing she knows that this is just for show. I then drop to one knee, scooping up her hand and placing the back of her fingers to my forehead and say, “Please forgive me, Arniel, but Arnadar and Arnaneth forced these upon me to take to you, extracting my word that they will come safe to your hands or I would not be able to take the rest they had in your room.” I slowly look up to see her forgiveness in her face. With that I gently return her hand to her side and stand, “but as you asked what this,” and I pass a wave of my hand in a wide sweeping gesture to indicate the last two wagons, “are, I believe the edain say, the ‘cats and dogs’ of your possessions from your house.” I gesture for wagons four and five to be opened, then hop up to the front of wagon four, gesturing to the front third. “I believe these will also go to the Great Library, however, the remainder might be a bit harder to place. I have my guess what you will first want done with them, Arniel, however I ask that you touch a few of them first so that I may execute my bargain with your parents.” I reach down and spring a magic lock the way I was taught. Pulling out a beautiful dress of midnight blue made of the softest material that shimmers a little in the sun, like morning dew from the intricate pattern cunningly woven into it using threads of silver, gold and mithral, I raise it up lovingly to be shown. “Arniel, you remember the grand ball, which you wore this. You remember the days work and the many fittings to get everything just right? The Edhelrim all in attendance had only eyes on you. It was not long after…” In my zest to provoke a memory so that she would not have me torch all this material to ash, I may have triggered a bittersweet memory, since the ball, while in her honor, was held to help her forget, him. Still … I continue, “The soft lit grand hall, the joyous music, the night of revelry – all lost in the dance.” I stop to look at her face. Did I cross an emotional boundary she was not ready for? “Curse my luck,” I think, “for drawing this chest at random. I should have stopped and looked first.”

At this time my attention distracted, I see the gates opened and a thundering horse enter, only to be reined in by one of the guard at the gate.


¹ Translation: Follow them. Take and guard the small chest.

Having the request to join them made by Mistara, Brock feels a need to follow, just a couple of steps behind. His armor clacked as he took each step, the boot hitting the floor as he follows them, giving them a cadence from his armor. As they cleared the halls main door, he notces the servants running quickly making preparations for the caravan and preparing their rooms. Wondering how long these people will be staying here, he sees Mistara and Dharashaess discussing their memories. He steps a bit away so not to seem intruding, yet stays alert for anything out of the ordinary on this strange day. It wasn’t long before he heard the gate lowered again as the rising sounds of a horse in full gallup approached them

Knowing this must be his scout, otherwise the gate guards will be helping in the kitchen instead of getting a day off sometime soon, he approaches the two elves in time to see the rider galloping into the courtyard and turning to the guard house. “Your pardon my Lady, but I need to excuse myself from this exercise. My scout just returned from riding the forest and I must get the latest report.” With that he bows to Mistara, nods to Dharashaess, and takes his leave to the guardhouse.

At the sight of the dress, all of Dhar’s words were lost, she did not hear a word he was saying a plethora of expressions evident in her face to those who know her. Rage to joy to sorrow, she turned away closing her eyes, her hand clenched into a fist. It took a few seconds before she regain enough composure to turn her attention back to the open chest.

Her lips quiver slightly as she spoke, “I shall not ask you to torch this chest, however…”

The thundering sound of hooves caught her attention, as a scout slid down from his horse, she heard the captain excusing himself to hear the report of this scout.

Returning her attention towards the wagon once more, “What of these other chests Dhar?”

He gestured towards them, one by one the spring unlocked the chest opening, revealing a total of twelve, fully packed with assorted gowns and dresses. Mistara stood with a gaping mouth at the sight as she blinked, still speechless. A panic look follow not long after, if she asks Dhar to torch the entire wagon he would do it without a question. Should their Drow seamstress heard of this incident however, she’d be extremely cross with her. But what woman alive would need so many dresses she thought to herself.

“Jallil Mael, usstan ssrig'luin dos wun l' alust videnn,”¹ she sent her thoughts, “Qualla ... tlu qee” ²There was no mistaking the panic tone in her voice, as it would only escape those who are deaf.

¹Lady Mael, I need you at the front gate
²Please ... hurry

I watched the elven male bowed at me, “Lady Kesh,” he says quietly and he stands back up, “When you are ready.”

I raised my eyebrow at being called a lady, but with Mistara within earshot I had to held my tongue back. I nodded and waited, I figured I’ll let Mistara finish inspecting all the wagons in case there are additional items she would want to be brought into her private chamber.

Watching Dhar hold the dress he had picked up from one of the chest, a gasp came out of me. I have never seen a gown as exquisite as this one, while I was listening to his words, the reaction from Mistara is not one I would expect. The lady does not LIKE wearing formal outfits. She prefers her torn, tattered clothing on most days. It usually falls to me to bring these clothing to the seamstress as Mistara would come home from wherever it is she goes and disappear to, and ripped her clothing even more if that is at all possible, considering the state they are already in to begin with. But her reaction is a lot more than her dislike from wearing such an outfit. As I watched her expression changes, whoever this “him” Dhar is talking about, he must’ve been a special person to rattle Mistara so. Seemingly calm once more, somewhat, she replied to Dhar. Wait… did she just say torch?

The gate opens before I could protest, saved by a scout's arrival, it would probably be out of place for me to protest anyway.

After some polite exchanges between the Captain and the Lady, Dhar continued showing off the rest of the wagon’s contents. Twelve chests in total, completely stuffed with an array of beautiful dresses in my many shapes and colors, my mistress seemed speechless. A look of panic seem to overcome her usually calm face, I had to bite my lower lip to prevent myself from laughing. This is quite a sight indeed, I am so glad I stuck around.

The words were unmistakeable, as was her tone. She needed help, and it was quite obviously urgent. Taking but a moment to grab her bow, Mael traced a pattern in the air, and it shimmered and seemingly parted. She grabbed her swords, then stepped through next to her Lady, glaring around.

'Vel'uss kuuven jivviim l' Jallil?'¹

It was then that she took a good look around, and noticed the open chest . Gowns...by the gods, she had been called to rescue her Lady from...gowns! Lowering her swords, she began to laugh.

Switching from her native tongue to the awkward elven, she laughingly asked, 'Tia Jhadia, air air si ter os si thardos shos o tyr thaes?'²

<sub>1. Who would harm the Lady?
2. My Lady, is it the cut or the fabric you most fear?</sub>

“What of these other chests Dhar?” my dear friend asks. With that, using the spell she taught me and I have practiced long hours no longer needing the focus of the words, I form the spell of opening and direct it across all the remaining chests. As my spell touches each chest, the chest lid unlocks and the lid opens – as if by magic one might think. I turn to Arniel, awaiting judgement on the chests and contents. I see a look of panic flowing across her face similar to the time long, long, well, for these humans, long, long, long, ago, when we were ambushed by those two trolls. She forgot the Trolls’ weakness was my strength, thinking that the two trolls were more than a match. Could the dresses be causing this? Looking at her apparel, it looks like she has been out tussling with a her forest friends, but the dress can’t be scaring her … can they? More like all the ghosts of memories these items that haunt her from times good and bad, like my poor choice. Maybe I should leave Arniel as I seem to be hurting her more than helping her, but her second mentioned she seems more at ease. Maybe my being here does help. A question to ask at a later time.

A magic portal opens shimmering in the air and a female drow armed with swords passes out it. She fiercely says with emotion, “'Vel'uss kuuven jivviim l' Jallil?" in the underspeak language I grew to know and loathe. All are frozen for that pregnant pause just before action happens, where all take in everything around them before charting their course of action. The only things keeping me from disarming her is that the others are too comfortable with her here, the drow seems concerned about “the lady,” and that I made one mistake already. Then I notice the swords, which aren’t pointing at anyone drop down and her body wracked with amusement. I think she asked if Arniel is more scared of the, um, style of clothes (I think) or the willow bark? It is an odd dialect of elven rarely heard, but parts of it have some similarities to the different languages I speak. I try a further gambit and speak to her in her better language which I understand fairly well, “Vendui ilythiiri, Usstan tlun Dharasha'ess. Belbaunin dosst nou'hai, l' Jallil zhah Mistara? Lu' Usstan talinth ol zhah mzild l' ssiggrins xuil l' ofil'nisha il treemmai mzild.”<sup>1

1</sup> Translation: Hello drow, I am Dharasha'ess. Given your concern, the Lady is Mistara? And I think it is more the memories tied to the clothes she fears more.

Taken aback by Mael's reply, she lost her speech momentarily, allowing Dharasha to answer the Drow Seamstress before she could reply. The dialect of the Ancient Aereneal, a language she has not spoken nor heard in a long time.

Before she could reply to the seamstress, the captain had returned to her side and whispered, "Matters concerning the Orcs have not dissipated, instead, they are soon to be on the move. It may be wise for us to address this situation now before it's too late."

At the mention of the orcs, her face hardened, for a brief moment her golden eyes flashes beyond her disguise before returning to the usual soft green. "I will be there soon Captain, I shall await you at the chamber."

Looking at Brock, "It might be wise for you to send some of your guards perhaps, to notify our missing keymembers, so they can join us as well."

"Jallil Mael, perhaps it would be best if I send all these to your workshop, so you may examine them at your leisure. Some of there are really old, they may need some work before they can be worn. I wouldn't mind if you throw some of them away either."

She sighed as she sent her thoughts at Dharasha, "It looks like our catching up will have to wait. I do not like what these orcs are doing. You will hear about it soon enough."

Looking at her most trusted handmaiden, "Kesh, please make sure everything goes where they need to be. I imagine I would not have time to unpack them for a while."

"Come my friends," she motioned for Dhar and Mael to follow her, "we have business to attend to in the Great Hall."

Mael studied those gathered curiously for a moment, then nodded as Mistara gave her instructions.

Khr'uss.

With that, the drow casually walked behind Mistara, following her to the Great Hall, laughing quietly. Guard the clothing she would, but from past experience, she knew it wouldn't be easy. At least she could do something more interesting than mending holes for awhile.