Ambassadors from the Past

(Kobur, 13th^th October, 1600)

This final assault proved too much for the morale of the Dragon army. Their retreat accelerated into a rout, and two days after the felling of the cliffs, the dwarven scouts brought news that the remnants of the force had fled past the place where they could have turned to approach the North Gate of Kobur, and had continued on out of the scouts' range towards the Desolation.

In Kobur, the clearing up after the invasion continued. Wounded dwarves were treated and healed, damaged equipment was replaced, and the many changes required to cope with the loss of the West Gate to the city. During this time, the questers occupied themselves in different ways as was their wont.

• Kobort plunged once more into the Journals of Elverandil, assisted by Grispere Crusher, driven by his desire to find out more about ways he could unlock the powers of the Dyvka. In this he was only partially successful, confirming that the blade's powers were only accessible to one who was properly able to use it, and that they were greatly amplified by the possession of the paired blades of which it was just one.
• Surya, feeling stifled by his extended stay in the underground caverns of the dwarven city, returned to the stables, tended and fed his horse, and then departed through the North Gate for an extended "leg-stretching" ride, lasting two whole days.
• Hildraft spent time with his kinfolk.
• Sack disapeared for long stretches of time. As the others rather suspected, he was quietly plying his old trade through the city of the dwarves, lifting the odd valuable item here and there where he could.

(Kobur, 15th^th October, 1600)

As they entered the Regency Council chamber once more, they noticed two strangers seated at the left-hand-side of the table, opposite their own usual places. One wore a long robe of deep red trimmed in gold, with a hood thrown back to his shoulders. A tall staff leaned against his chair.

Thraldor Legárion

Eladriel Elvarambor

The other was armoured in glittering silver; a tall spear stood against the wall behind him, and a magnificent silver helm rested on the table in front of him. The most striking thing about these two individuals, however, was that they were instantly recognizable as elves.

Sack's face twisted with loathing, and his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. His friends tried to persuade him to calm down - for the moment - and at least hear what the elves had to say. For a moment he still looked as if he was going to attack the elves. Kagnar gestured, and suddenly a score of the Iron Guard surrounded his chair, blocking his path to the strangers but not touching or restraining him, and with a path behind - to the door - left clear. "If you cannot behave as is appropriate in a Council meeting," said Kagnar sternly, "you may leave." Sack scowled at him, and dropped glowering into his chair.

Kagnar then addressed the council as a whole, introducing the two visitors as Thraldor Legárion and Eladriel Elvarambor. To the elves, he introduced the members of the Regency Council, and the band he described as "Brave friends of the city of Kobur who stood with us against the recent invasion". Then he yielded the floor to Eladriel, who stood and spoke his piece.

"Honourable members of the Regency Council of Kobur. I come before you as an ambassador from certain of the noble houses of the Elvenkingdom in Exile, in the course of a mission of the most paramount importance to all free peoples of Alair."

"Centuries ago, during the time of what we call the Dragon War, our greatest smiths and spellweavers designed and created a number of very powerful arcane weapons, in the hopes of successfully resisting the Dragon's assault on our land that is no more."

"Most of these artifacts were lost in the battle and ruin of the time. However, one - the last-made and most powerful - was never brought to battle, being rather lost or hidden somewhere beyond any reach of our scrying. So it went from that day. To this."

He paused portentously.

"Recently, however, it came to the notice of our wizards that the artifact in question had been rediscovered, and was once more at large in the world. While it may - I repeat may - have within it the power to defeat the Dragon, curse him, it also represents a dreadful danger. The power of the relic is such that, should the Dark Beast gain posession of it, he might conceivably manage to apotheosise himself."

"This must not happen."

"Councilmembers; I know there has been disagreement between our peoples in the past, as well as co-operation and alliance. I ask you, in the name of all Free Peoples, to assist us now in tracking down the sword Mergil."

At this juncture, Sack unobtrusively stood and left the room. A few minutes later he returned; only the sharpest-eyed among the watchers noticed that his Bag of Holding was no longer attached to his belt. He resumed his seat and continued to look daggers at the elves.

Surya, speaking for the group, responded. He pointed out that there was no evidence to hand at the moment to prove that these Elves were not in league with the dragon; he asked for proof that they were not. He also questioned whether the elves would do anything worthwhile with the sword were they to get it. "You abandoned us for a thousand years," he pointed out. "We fought you, and we beat you then too," he continued, referring to the battle of Thallan, where his people, the Tellarans, fought and beat the elves. Eladriel met his eyes levelly. "I know." he said. "I was there." Surya gulped.

"We fled during the Dragon War. It is true," continued the knight. "But only when defeat was certain. We stood and fought and most of us died; our heroes, our armies, our leaders, our cities, our very land. The few who survived did escape."

"As to your other points. No Elf has ever served the Dragon. Ever -"

At this, Kobort stood up and surreptitiously touched his wand under the table. Suddenly, Eladriel was looking back at another elf. "But are you what you seem?" he asked in Elvish. Thraldor smiled. "Impressive," he said "but for your accent, indetectable."

Eladriel spoke again. "Let us move on. Let us conjecture what I already guess - that you people are able to assist in some way in the recovery of Mergil. What proof would you require of our bona fides?"

"Help." said Surya flatly. "There's a war going on, as you have doubtless seen. How many troops can you provide, and how soon can you get them here?"

Eladriel shook his head. "You humans are so remarkable, the way you cut to the bone of an issue so swiftly. It must be connected to your brief lifespans. Let me explain then how things are in the Elvenkingdoms in Exile."

"Where is that?" cut in Hildraft abruptly. "I may not tell you," responded Eladriel blandly.

"Your island?" said Kobort casually, "West of Belegond about two days' sail..." he went on to describe it as he'd seen it in his vision. Eladriel and Thraldor's jaws dropped with astonishment. The wizard seemed especially interested. "You managed to scry Viridor?" he blurted.

Eladriel pulled himself together. "Opinion among the great lords of Viridor is divided. Many of the older lords believe that we should stay where we are safe and not return to these mortal lands where our people have suffered so much suffering and death. Others feel that we should learn from the defeats we suffered here, should not abandon our responsibility to the ... other peoples," it was quite possible that he'd stopped himself just in time from saying 'lesser peoples', "to face and oppose the great evil of the Dark Beast."

"The lord I serve is one such. Together they call themselves the Party for Action. Militarily, the combined lords of the Action Party could raise a force of perhaps a hundred, a hundred and fifty thousand warriors." He paused. "The combined Elvenhost numbers five times that. But to secure that would require convincing the conservative Lords that we have a chance to win. Hence the Sword of the Noldor."

The group conferred for a while. Finally Surya said, "Summon those hundred thousand troops to the aid of the dwarves - now - and we will help you." Hildraft added, "My magic can allow you to send a message to your lord if you wish." Eladriel nodded, and Hildraft cast the spell.

Eladriel spoke aloud in Elvish for a moment or two, obviously talking with his lord. Then he looked back at Surya. "It is agreed," he said, "once I have seen the sword, my lord will give the word, and within the week, a host of the Eldar will walk the land of Alair for the first time in a thousand years."

"Then," added Surya, "we will come to Viridor with you. When we have seen the island, seen it is indeed free of the taint of the Dragon, we will hand over Mergil."

"I would have asked that in any case," said Eladriel, "that you bear it until that time. If an elf lays hand to Mergil, the dragon will know - instantly - and will come directly. Could you face him if he did? I could not. A champion must be selected to bear the weapon, and it must be given over to him alone."

The rest of the band looked at Sack. Grumbling, the half-orc returned to where he'd stashed the bag and sword. Drawing out the mighty relic, he cast it across the chamber, directly at Eladriel, who flung himself aside to avoid touching it. He and Thraldor bent over the weapon, drinking in the sight of it with eager eyes. "It is true!" cried the mage, "it is the Seventh Sword of the Noldor!"

"There is a problem," said Surya. "One of our party has ... issues with elves." Eladriel looked at Sack, who snarled at him. He went to te half-orc, and spoke to him in a conciliatory and diplomatic fashion, trying to win his trust and co-operation, although his inadvertent reference to him as "unfortunate" very nearly had the Blade of the Sun drawn all over again.

Surya picked Mergil up again, and the meeting broke up.

While Eladriel conferred with Kagnar, Thraldor came across to talk with Kobort. He seemed deeply interested in how the sorcerer could have scried the island of Viridor in the face of the magical defences of that island. Kobort toyed with inventing a story which made his powers seem mighty enough to do such things every day, but decided against it; he explained the visions to Thraldor.

The elf, fascinated, begged permission to sample Kobort's memories of the event. The nomad agreed, and Thraldor used his magic to extract the images from his mind.

Eladriel left Kagnar and came to talk to Surya. "So, Tellaran." he said. Surya said nothing. "It was a foolish, unnecessary battle, and it should not have happened." said the elf. "Will you remain with us, when we come back to do war upon the Dark Beast? If you do, it would be an honour to fight beside you."

Over the next day, the party prepared itself for the next stage of the journey. It was at this point that Sack broke the news that he would not be going with them. His lifelong hatred of the Elves was just too bitter to be put aside; he realized that their goal was right and desireable, and so wanted to avoid hazarding that by his presence.

The party split their funds evenly, with the bulk being stored in Kobur under the watchful eye of Clan Bogadun.

Ivhold, Cadrag and Grispere came to see them. Grispere looked especially pleased with himself as he handed each party member a small, beautifully-crafted brooch. He explained that these were imbued with the spell Bull's Strength, which they could bestow twice in each day.

Brooch of Bull's Strength

Surya was presented with a longsword to replace his destroyed one. Crafted with wicked spikes emerging from the quillons at a 45° angle, it had powers of disarmament.

To Sack was handed a heavy roll of black velvet. Unrolling it, he discovered to his delight a magnificent set of thieves' tools; lockpicks, ribbon saws, probes, keys, jemmies and so on, all in dulled metal that would not shine.

(Kobur, 17th^th October, 1600)

The next day, the party bade farewell to the half-orc and set out, leaving the city by one of the few remaining Western exits. Travelling down the valley, they could see the signs of the passing of the dragon army in defeat; dead soldiers, broken equipment and so on. Reaching the site of the great landslide, they climbed over it, marvelling at the great swathes of destruction that crossed the valley. Clearly, many unfortunate troops had met their ends beneath it.

At the end of the day, the travellers encamped near the end of the valley. The elves proved agreeable travelling companions, helping cheerfully with the tasks of setting camp and cooking and so on.

As night fell, Kobort summoned Nose-biter and set him the task of patroling the perimeter of the camp. Thraldor looked at the owl. "Your familiar?" he asked. When Kobort nodded, the elf said, "A good idea; I shall send my familiar as well." He called, a peculiar, trilling sound, into the darkness.

With a soundless shimmer, a gigantic form coalesced out of nowhere at the edge of the camp. Fading in from transparency to solid reality, the shape of a huge spider, ten feet across from clawtip to clawtip, came into view. "This is Nefkhet-Nephhor," said Thraldor casually as the huge form glided smoothly away into the darkness. "He will watch while we sleep."

As they sat around the campfire, Hildraft dug in his pack and brought out Grispere's Hammer, which he showed to the elves. "Plan B," he announced with satisfaction. He proceeded to describe the powers and consequences of the Hammer, leaving the elves open-mouthed with horror.

Title

The next day they arrived at the ruins of the elven city of Curulindale. From there, a clear view out over the Desolation was possible, and even the humans could clearly see at least one faint smudge of smoke rising to the south. Eladriel gazed sadly out from the ruined walls. "War is afoot," he said.

As they rode down from the heights and into the Desolation proper, the group became aware of a different cloud of dust; this one was approaching, and appeared to contain marching figures. After some consideration, they settled to wait for them to approach. The far-sighted elf was the first to recogize them. "Orcs!" he snapped.

Sure enough, a large orc warband was apporaching, converging on their position. Around thirty in number, they showed signs of recent rapid travel, and some recent battle; several wore rough bandages. As they came to a halt, they fanned out into three groups of ten, each with a chieftain in front. Two more, rather better equipped than the others, moved forwards, weapons sheathed, obviously intending to parlay. One was clearly some sort of senior leader; the other was either a champion or his bodyguard.

The leader addressed the group, speaking the Common tongue with evident difficulty. "You! Lump of humans. We seek Lord; sent by our Lord to find other Lord of Orcs. You seen or having not seen Lord of Orcs?" He proceeded to describe, step by step, what could only be Sack the Halforc; and moreover, a Sack carrying the sword Mergil...

"What do you want him for?" shouted back Surya. "Lord say: bring him back, bring back him safe and one piece in," said the chieftain, clearly not very happy with these instructions. He shook his tusked head in exasperation. "Curse these humans," he grumbled to his bodyguard in his own language, "why the Darkness did we ever make alliance with them?" The bodyguard thought a moment. "We were homeless refugees, master." he pointed out.

"Anything else you want?" called Surya in fluent Orcish.

The orc leader's massive jaw dropped. "Why did you make us struggle with your wretched language?" he demanded. "We didn't think you spoke Orcish," quipped Surya. In a huff, the orcs turned and marched away.

For four more days, the group travelled across the Desolation. The effect on the Elves was terrible; the miasma of destruction and unlife radiating from the very ground, tearing at their memories of what it had been before the Dragon came, caused them acute suffering. For most of it the trip there were no overt manifestations; but on the last day, as they came in sight of Belegond, the Dance of the Damned caught up with them.

The swirling, suffering, etheral spirits of the damned dead of the lost elvenkingdom swirled around, seeking to terrify and horrify. The adventurers had seen it before, and were able to resist the effects, but the elves were unprepared and were reduced to near-hysterics.

Surya stepped forwards; raising the Sword of the Dead Legions, he gathered his will and ordered the ghosts to begone. This had nowhere near the effect he was expecting; his link with the undead appeared to open a channel of some kind and allow the Damned to affect him directly - they gathered around him and began to attack his spirit. Shocked and dazed, he lapsed into unconsciousness and collapsed; and that, strangely, saved him - because he dropped the Sword. Kobort and Hildraft stepped in front of his prone form; Hildraft held up the Axe of Glass and invoked Kord to banish the spirits, while Kobort wove a spell designed to damage the Undead. Under this combined assault, the Damned retreated and faded away, whether destroyed, discouraged or redeemed no one could tell. But they were untroubled by further attacks.

(Belegond, 25th^th October, 1600)

On a crisp autumn morning, the party emerged from the Desolation and arrived at the ruins of the elven sea-port Belegond. The last elf city to fall to the Dragon, it was also the jumping-off point for the refugees who founded the island refuge of Viridor.

The effects of wind and sea had added to the initial destruction of the once-magnificent city, and now only a few crumbling sections of wall and mounds in the grass remained. The mighty stone quays, however, were more or less intact, and moored at one of these was a ship.