“You’re miserable,” Lysandra pointed out to me one night as we drank wine on my balcony.
I didn’t respond, but I knew this to be true. I should have been out there with my friends, fending off evil. That was how I could better serve Illium. Becoming a Magi was the wish Viceak had in mind, not reluctantly ruling. Yet, here I was.
I reached for the bottle and filled my glass. Lysandra watched reproachfully, but didn’t stop me. With a sigh, she quietly brushed Little Oddie, who observed the city diligently from the railing.
“I heard they will be back by tomorrow,” she tried to cheer me up.
I grunted in acknowledgement as I tipped my glass back. She attempted a few times to distract me from Illium. It didn’t matter, I drank until I forgot the night anyway.
I awoke to banging on my door.
I fell out of bed, then scrambled to my feet, throwing on a set of clothes. My head ached with every movement, and I almost jumped again when someone moved in my bed.
Lysandra. I sighed. I can’t keep this doing this.
The knock was more forceful this time. I swallowed, then hurried to answer.
“What?” I said, slipping outside to confront my callers. It was Dagon, with Maziel at his heels.
The dwarf chuckled. “You look flustered. Had a good night?”
He tried to peek behind me, but I shut the door and faced him. “Welcome back,” I snapped, “Now what do you want?”
“It’s noon, Taelim.” Maziel said calmly.
I pursed my lips. Gods dammit. “All right, but you’re here for a reason.”
“We killed Zuggtmoy!” Dagon blurted excitedly.
Maziel shoved him aside. “I need a favor.”
I cocked my head, folding my arms over my chest. “What kind?”
“We found Gnasha on our trip. She and a band of orcs have gathered in Asimba.” Maziel paused as if verifying I was comprehending her despite my questionable state. Tentatively, she continued. “I told her you could heal her hand if she went back to Stilt Town...”
“Do you know how much shit I get everytime I leave Illium?” I retorted.
“You could be there and back in a day with your magic.”
“Not the point.”
“Please, Taelim.” Maziel said quietly. “For me. I want no hard feelings between our parties.”
My shoulders fell. “Fine, I’ll take care of it.”
Maziel bowed her head. “Let me know when you get back. We’re planning another trip.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the two had already turned to leave. A thought for a later time.
“You shirt is on backwards!” Dagon shouted before turning a corner.
I looked down and cursed, then stormed back into my room to change.
My tasks tended to come in waves, one after the other. I had hardly stepped foot in court before an attendant called for me in a panic.
“Princess!” The nervous man began, repeatedly peering over his shoulder. “There are, um, diplomats here to see you.”
“That wasn’t on the schedule,” I replied dryly, walking by. “Let Killian deal with it.”
The attendant squeaked and hurried to keep up. “They specifically requested you. Drow from Lowfort.”
I stopped in my tracks to face him, and the attendant only nodded his head vigorously. I could see the sweat beading on his forehead.
“I’ll deal with them,” I said at once.
The attendant wilted in relief. He bowed deeply, praised my name then scuttled off before I could change my mind.
As I made my way to the drawing room where the drow waited, I wondered and feared what they could possibly want from me. Or worse, from Illium. When I stepped inside, I faltered for a moment. Two women were waiting patiently at the table.
Outfitted in intricate black robes, a dark face with iris-less eyes looked up at me. She was beautiful. The woman beside her was outfitted in soft leathers, with a short sword at her side.
The first woman stood, drawing back her veil. “You’ve come at last.” She didn’t seem the least bit pleased.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting your arrival…”
The woman seemed to stand straighter. “You may call me L’triel, I come on behalf of my people.”
I nodded slowly as I took a seat across from them. L’triel’s bodyguard remained standing, hands behind her back. “I heard you’ve come all the way from Lowfort. For what reason?” I asked, actually striving to be polite despite knowing they had no right to call that place home.
L’triel smiled, we both saw through the other’s bullshit. “I’ve come to arrange an alliance.”
I was glad I hadn’t started drinking. I might have spit it out. “Is that so? Did you make the same offer to Stilt Town or Lowfort?”
“Guard your tongue, illegitimate one.” The bodyguard snarled.
L’triel raised a hand to silence the other drow.
I grinned darkly. “Bastard I may be, yet still in charge here. Remember that.”
L’triel leaned forward, folding her hands on the table. “We know the upheaval our presence has brought. As your friend, Maizel, might have once expressed, the drow don’t have a place to call home. Now, for once in alignment as a people, we seek that home.”
I sat back in my chair. By trying to take it from others. “You’re making enemies,” I said bluntly. “If you will stop your attacks by aquiring a home, then take Solstice. It’s an abandoned city we recently reclaimed.”
L’triel features scrunched in distaste. “That won’t do….We don’t have a fondness for the oppressive sunlight there.”
I drummed the table. I’m being baited. “And Lowfort won’t do? Your people secured that nicely, though I can’t imagine taking the orcs there as slaves has gone over well.”
L’triel watched me calmly. “That is not the home we originally sought.”
“Then you still want the Sump,” I said abruptly. “But you know they’ll kick you right back out.” I threw up my hands. “I can’t have an alliance with those who want to take their home by force.”
“Which is why we were hoping you could convince the locals to relocate.”
For a heartbeat I forgot to breathe. I just blinked at the diplomat, replaying her statement in my head, verifying I heard correctly.
“You want me to move the orcs and bullywugs out of their home, so you can have it?”
L’triel nodded, but her features had grown serious. There was a deadliness in it, and I briefly wondered who was protecting who of the two present.
“We are tired of warring, young princess. We genuinely wish to stop, to call the Sump home and live at peace with those of this realm.”
“And you can’t live in peace with those already there?”
She shook her head once, decisive.
I sighed, sitting up in my chair. “Suppose I can convince the others to move, to give you the Sump and call a truce. What do we get out of it?”
L’triel spread her arms, welcoming suggestions. “What do you wish of us?”
I chewed on my lips, contemplating the question. I already knew any bargaining with them was a risk. I should have brought Maziel. “Leave Lowfort, and free your slaves. If I can get the drow the Sump, you’re done. Don’t even think of taking over another territory, because you’ll shatter this precious truce you want.”
L’triel shifted in her seat, but I couldn’t tell if she was getting comfortable or just the opposite. After a few moments, she responded. “If you can secure the Sump for the drow, then I’ll do as you ask. You have an accord.”
I rubbed my temple, the pounding in my head had only grown worse. “I’ll see to the paper work.” Slowly I rose to my feet. “But that’s if I can convince the Sump tribes at all.”
I stepped out of the tree’s portal and into Stilt Town later that day. This was a solo trip, and one I desperately needed. A large patchwork tent was thrown up just outside the buildings under construction. Two burly orcs stood guard outside.
I approached the entrance, but crossed pikes barred my way.
“Really? I’m here to see Gnasha.” I told the orcs, who grunted something back in their own tongue. Hands on my hips, I briefly contemplated shifting into an elemental and tossing them aside. Before I could, the flaps were thrown open and a female orc, a head taller than her guards, stood in the doorway.
“Taelim. You’ve come,” she said in her deep voice, surprised I was actually here.
She gave the guards a single look, and they immediately drew back their pikes. She beckoned for me to follow inside the tent.
Gnasha plopped down on the mats and hides piled on one side of the space, gesturing for me to follow. I obliged, trying and failing not to stare at the stump on her otherwise intimidating figure.
She waved it in front of me, bearing her short tusk teeth. “A gift from your friend.”
“I heard,” I responded weakly, scratching my ear idly.
“Did she also tell you how her people took my village by force!” She growled.
“Maziel swore she wasn’t a part of that,” I said, defending my companion.
Gnasha snorted, then looked away. “It doesn’t matter now. Most of my people have been taken, I failed them.”
I considered holding back details of my encounter earlier today, but she had a right to know. “A drow diplomat visited me in Illium today…”
Gnasha’s head swung back around, her eyes locking with mine. “Illium? Why there?”
I shrugged, “Asking for our help, my help.”
“With you? In Illium?” She repeated,uncertainly.
“You do know I run that kingdom, right?”
Gnasha’s eyes widened. “You, little savior of Stilt Town?” She grinned, amused at the prospect.
I swallowed and ignored the reference to my past actions. “Yeah, well, I was the bastard of the king’s wife, but no one knew until the attacks there. For some reason they want me to stay.” I shook my head and the facts with it. “Give me your arm, that is, if you want your hand grown back.”
Gnasha examined me carefully, then tentatively extended her stump. “Tell me more about the drow in Illium.”
So, as I invoked the regenerative properties to restore her hand, I told her everything that happened. When I was done, she only gaped at me, entirely ignoring her fully regrown hand.
“You can’t trust them!” She snarled.
“Who said I did?” We held eyes for a moment, but I caved in first. “I’m trying to get the drow to stop, Gnasha. If they will actually be content with the Sump, then maybe they won't invade every place they come across.”
“They won’t stop,” Gnasha said.
“Then we go to war!” I responded, voice strained. I sighed, shaking my head. “I don’t have any other way to get them out of Lowfort, free their slaves, and leave this plane alone. They want a place to call their own, and while I don’t agree with their methods, I want it wrapped up.” I faced her squarely. “Do you want to help me or not?”
Gnasha gazed down as her new hand, flexing her fingers for a few moments in silence. When she spoke, she didn’t meet my gaze. “What are you asking of me?”
“With the help of some other druids, I think we can shape some of the southern lands in Illium for the orcs and bullywugs to inhabit. Happily and safely under Illium’s banner. The problem is convincing them to go. That’s where I need you, they’ll listen to you. Trust you even.”
Gnasha folded her meaty arms across her chest. “They’re going to betray you, Taelim.”
“Maybe,” I replied. “But once the drow leave Lowfort, I’m placing a garrison there to support the locals, orcs you know and who I need you to lead. If they decide to cross us, that’s war on Illium. Maybe that’ll make them think twice. Who knows?”
Gnasha remained quiet for a long time, and I had all but given up on her assistance. Finally, she spoke up. “Fine, I’ll convince the tribes. If the drow break the agreement…”
“I know…” was all I said.
She extended her new hand, and I took it, glad to be done with the matter. Now I had to find my father, Elroar, because there was no way I could terraform a region by myself. More problems for a later time.
I was actually happy to go home. I looked forward to sleeping in my bed and having the day be over with. Naturally, nothing was that simple. Feeps had been waiting for me to return to the castle, surrounded by guards.
“Taelim,” he rushed to my side. “Come with me!” The centaur warforged grabbed my hand, and led me briskly down the halls and into one of the cellars. The guards kept a respectable distance, keeping an eye out for whatever danger I failed to see.
Feeps led me to a wooden table where a body was lying on top, covered with a cloth. He pulled back the sheet, and I gaped down at the familiar face of Timony, the wizard who kidnapped me not long ago. Feeps handed me a small note which read: “You’re welcome! -- OC”
I moved to a barrel, dropped down on the lid and laughed, my body shaking with amusement and fatigue. Feeps waited, mouth slightly ajar, as I wiped a tear from my eye.
“That was the son of a bitch who kidnapped me,” I explained. “But he’s good and dead, so one less problem I have to deal with.”
“Taelim, why do you get involved with these situations?”
I shrugged, “Doesn't matter now. I’d burn the body. He belongs to the Unseelie, and if they learned we had him...well, I bet Ornamental Chaos already has a target on their head for this.”
I turned and headed for the exit.
“Where are you going?” Feeps called after me.
“To drink myself stupid. Goodnight!”
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