The problem with this hair-brained idea was that he had no idea if it would work. He wasn't a doctor. He wasn't a chemist. He only knew that chelation therapy had saved his great, great, grandmother and his grandmother, bless her iron heart, had told the story every new year's holiday. She was a great believer in declaring the gratitudes of the past on new year's was his Gran. Even if they had been covered, at length, ad nauseum, for the last half-century. It existed and he knew the basic mechanics of the procedure from his education but that was like saying that you know how gravity and fluid dynamics of moving gases works so let's make a plane. Details matter.
Taipan marched the two of them out into the hall and down a stair he'd never used before. They weren't leaving the Arcaneum?
The stair spiraled gently, way too large a radius to be doing anything but going round the trunk of the [Heartwood] pillar onto which Irielhos was built, or grafted, or grown, however you want to think about it. Ulric noticed that the mana density, much decreased outside the amphitheatre of the inner Arcaneum, was growing again. The pressure on his skin grew heavier with every turn of the stair and they simply did not end. He was certain they had descended some twenty flights. His stamina was still recovering, his legs burned with the extended climb down into what had to be the very roots of the great tree. The air was leaden now with wild mana, they had surpassed even the plateau's ambient field.
"Taipan, where the hell are we going?" Ulric asked, unable to restrain his curiosity any longer.
She didn't turn, but kept a hold of his hand and continued their descent as she answered.
"We are taking you to see my Mothers and the Healers. I do not know enough of what you speak to understand if it can help Father but that does not mean that they don't. Perhaps Shor will see a connection between your homeland's technique and the Bane and will be able to utilize the knowledge."
She paused in her speech, momentarily, as if debating with herself. By the way her shoulders squared she made an assessment.
"You asked if there is anything you can do, and I believe there is, which is why I am taking you to a place of which you may never speak, which you will, even if you must commit the sin of untruth, hide from the knowledge of any not in this place we are about to go. I am serious Ulric, you will be killed if you reveal this location. To even speak of the door we entered above is reason enough to banish you. None who are not members of Father's inner ring have ever been here or know that this place is more than a myth. I should not even know about it but there was no greater target to practice true stealth on than Father so I heard things that were beyond my station." The graceful woman told him, as serious as she had ever been.
"I am assuming a place like this would not be unguarded, do they know we're coming?" Ulric asked. Seemed like a good thing to know. If the Iriel'en were protecting an ultimate secret, showing up unannounced was a good way to get arrows in you.
"They do not, Glade Chief, which is why I am going first. They are less likely to shoot me out of hand but a human, any human, would be killed before announcing themselves." Taipan clarified, solemnly.
Good thing he'd checked. Ulric felt like he was a fairly egalitarian dude but something felt slightly off about hiding behind her, just in case they started taking fire from antsy guards. It was what she wanted though so he didn't complain. Or so he told himself, he still wanted to complain. What really stopped him was that his bitching would have been not only pointless, but also humiliating; currently, thanks to his weakened condition, Taipan was strong enough to just manhandle him if he got out of line.
Following with forced docility, and, not a little unease, Ulric observed the surrounding passage and they continued their wide, downward spiral. The corridor had changed drastically if so gradually as to be abrupt when one noticed the contrast between the smooth, clearly civilized hand that had made the entry way far above and the natural texture of the living flesh of the [Heartwood]. Similarly, the stair below his feet had transitioned from smooth, even planks to this grainy oaken texture of rough timber as though the tree had created this passage intentionally for the Elves. And maybe it had. Magic, wooooohh Ulric hummed to himself in a spooky voice.
The air was heavy now, not only with magical force but also with humidity. They had carried no light source with them, yet the corridor was lit evenly, a green-gold light that permeated the passage. Ulric saw, clearly now, growths of fungi, lichen, and moss that were creeping up the walls of the natural corridor, though they shied away from the stair itself. These clinging plants were the source of the light. In bulk they produced a soft, prominent glow.
Surreal, the climb had become something out of a true fairy tale. They were entering the realm of the fae now, the domain of Titania and Erlenkönig.
Upon the next turn the corridor leveled out, stairs, like too conveniently shaped roots, become flat, if textured, floor. This "hallway" was fifty meters long and lit dimly with that same soft light, those same mosses and fungi were now larger with ferns and vines accompanying growing from every surface of the round tunnel, the ceiling included.
You know when you're deep underground. There is a feeling of pressure, of the weight of the stone above. Ulric felt that but magnified. It was as if his presence was known by the great tree and it could choose to simply close itself off, erasing this space and all within it. He wasn't sure if that was the influence of the incredible manafield, denser than anything he'd ever felt. His core could nigh unto taste the unearthly weave of Sano, life mana, Deyndro, tree mana, Terra, earth mana, Aquae, water mana, and Germen, growth or plant mana. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.
He looked at his Shadow in amazement to see how she was responding to this astronomically sublime manafield but was disappointed. She appeared not to even notice. That wasn't possible, Ulric told himself. Maybe this was another case of Ulric being a virtual child, so naïve to the miracles of this world.
What Taipan did notice was that their appearance in the corridor had not gone unnoticed by the score of Royal Guards at the other end, each with their weapons at ready in front of a round metallic door of that same bluish metal as his trident had been composed.
Smith Uldin had called it Magebane Adamant, or, more formally Ektylis Atzal, the Unweaving Metal. It had the distinctive property of destroying spellforms with which it contacted. Natural mana it did not effect, mana shaped and manipulated into a spell it destroyed, making it a fantastic material for Spellbreakers and antimages, hence its more common moniker as Magebane Adamant. A door made of it was virtually impenetrable to magic and would take a good goddamn long time to cut through by conventional means, the stuff was wicked hard.
Ulric noticed the She-Elf in front of him freeze and did the same. His eyes followed hers, not nearly as effective in the low light, and it took him a moment to make out the distinctly hostile posture of the guards. There were, at least, twelve arrows nocked and aimed at the two of them and zero cover.
"We are no threat! It is only Taipan, once Bald'rt's eldest daughter, and her Honor, the [Lord of the Ancient Glade]! We are here to help! Ulric may have magic from his homeland that can counteract the bane and save my Father!" His Shadow boomed, really putting in some bass.
She wasn't actually threatening them but she also made her declaration of aid to be more like warning not to get in her way. Not the play Ulric would have made but, you know what? Taipan do Taipan things.
To their credit, the guardsmen didn't move even a little bit. Discipline had been the underpinning of their training and they did Idra proud. One of them, an Elf Ulric hadn't seen before, took charge, moving to the front to speak without actually being in the way of any of the bowmen.
"We know you, both of you! What I need to know is, how in the Treeless Hells did you get down here? Who spoke of this place? I will know, and they will water the roots for revealing it! Speak, Taipan!" Commanded the captain with a strong, rough, for an Elf, voice.
Taipan didn't take offence, or show any surprise at this welcome. Which was nice, Ulric felt like any sudden movements or surprises were going to quickly be followed by an Unfortunate Accident. One he was positive he wouldn't survive.
"I entered through the unspoken door in the Arcaneum, and I know of it because Lord Bald'rt gets too deep in his cups and runs his tongue when he takes Mother Vedyr to bed!" Taipan shouted.
Ulric's expression turned to mild horror. Taipan was spying on her Father when he went to shag her mother? Gross. Super-mega-ultra gross. He wasn't a prude, but the thought of walking in on his old man and mam bumping uglies was unpleasant in the extreme. They weren't as pretty as the Elven royals, but still. Yikes.
Taipan noticed the look he was directing her way and rolled her eyes.
"What? I was tailing him through the fortress, how was I to know he'd start drinking in the mid-morning and canoodle my mother into making love in the audience room? He shouldn't be speaking of such things in a chamber made to carry voices from the dais anyway." Taipan whispered reproachfully.
Really now? Bald'rt, you dog you.
Ulric kept his face carefully neutral. Best not to show his appreciation for the sheer brass of that great man here. Later, if things turned out well, Ulric would share a discreet fist bump of praise with the Elf King. Right now, don't get killed by his guards before you can try to save his life.
It would appear that Taipan was not the only one who was aware of this sort of failure in security. The lead guard covered his eyes for a moment, whispering foulness that drew looks and caused some degree of ear twitching in the ranks before he drug his hand down a face wearing an incredibly put upon visage.
"Be that as it may," the Elf shouted, struggling to maintain gravitas, "You should not be here! I know of you Glade Chief and I know you are in good standing with Lord Iriel which is why we have not fired on you. But the Ladies Iriel have told us to guard this door with our lives and that is what we shall do!"
Ulric decided it was now or never, "I am only just now recovered enough from my injuries to be of any use to your Lord. My Shadow told me the nature of the Bane and I am certain it carries similar properties to poisons for which my people had found panaceas. The Ladies could not know of these remedies but they must be applied as soon as possible, before the damage is too widespread. This delay could be killing your liege! Go with me, send as many men to watch me as you like, but I need to tell Shor what I know for her to have any chance of removing the poison. No one survives the Bane, you know this! Please!" Ulric emplored.
It had already been a week. Even now, he didn't know if anything could be done, if this heinous shit was as nasty as Taipan described. But the fact that these men were still down there said Bald'rt was still fighting and Ulric would do whatever it took to give him a chance. He didn't know how many of these guardsmen he could neutralize without killing them but he had a fair suspicion that Taipan could go through them like a scythe through wheat. Shadows were abundant here in the near dark of the tunnel.
The leader turned his head and whispers faster than Ulric could follow from so great a distance shot back and forth between the anxious guards. Eventually, love for their Lord won out. The Leader turned back to them.
"Very well! You are already here, too late is it to weep over waters run down stream. The issue of my Lord's impropriety can be delt with later, if ever the chance arises. I will go with you myself, and whatever happens thereafter will lay on mine own head. Sina! You have the lead until I am returned or another appointed." declared the hard edged guardsman.
"Come." He addressed Ulric, indicating that they were allowed to approach.
He and Taipan quickly covered the distance through that unearthly tunnel. The door, a portal the same diameter as the tunnel, was opened, swinging open slowly and soundlessly. Ulric choked slightly on his own spit when he saw that it was actually a thirty centimeter plate of Ektylis Atzal bolted to a [Heartwood] core a meter thick that, to Ulric's eyes fed back through one another through the half meter bolts, composed of some silvery metal with which he was unfamiliar, but that, to his mana sense burned brightly, creating a channel between the metal and the wood core. They fed each other, the Magebane into the Heartwood and vice versa. Ulric knew intuitively that the door would heal itself if attacked, the metal somehow granted the regenerative properties of the underlying magical wood, and the whole thing guarded from targeted magics that would try to undo them. It was the next thing to impregnable. Gods blood, these people weren't fucking around down here.
Through that grand barrier, they entered into a space that was different than any other. The dim green gold glow of the spiraling corridor was gone, replaced by noon day bright gold light like a sunrise, given off by the gnarled wood walls of the ovoid chamber. Large as a cathedral, the walls sloped upwards, curving towards themselves, the ceiling soared up, and up, towering at least sixty meters. Hanging there, far above was a crystalline tower, a prism of greens, browns, and gold enshrouded partially by vines and twisting roots, extending from the walls of the chamber like a great spiderweb.
He was looking at the naked core of the [Heartwood], the beating heart of Irielhos and the lynchpin of Iriel. No wonder he'd felt the manasphere thickening down here. No wonder the Iriel'en were so on edge about anyone knowing about this place. Ulric felt again the sense that the very flesh of the chamber was aware of him and would destroy this space rather than allow harm to come to that crystal.
The [Heartwood] wasn't just alive, it was sentient.
Deep currents, like long, slow notes played just outside his range of hearing swirled in the mana field. Ulric turned to Taipan his eyes wide. She looked like he would imagine a man might who was seeing their god. Which, in a way, she was.
He would have remained frozen there, would have lost himself to the ponderous currents that whispered of ages past, sunsrises uncountable, and the motions of stars beyond the comprehension of mortals, had not Vedyr broken his rapture.
Unseen, unnoticed beneath the grandeur of the core of their great tree, was a bier surrounded by three Elven figures of incredible, peerless beauty. The bier contained a shrouded form, thin, emaciated, unconscious though racked by agony nevertheless. Threads of gossamer light bound the women's forms to the figure on the bier. One looked away from her task, a rictus of fury on her face.
"What is this!? How have they come to the core of Iriel’s patriarch? What are they doing here Choric? We hang on by a thread and you would interrupt!?"
She sounded angry. She sounded tired. She sounded desperate. She sounded like he would imagine a wife might, who was watching her husband die a slow, agonized death.
The guardsman, Choric, remained calm. "They are here on my life, Lady Vedyr. The Glade Chief was told of the Bane poisoning, he says there may be a way to stop the Bane. I judged it worth a try, they had already found the core chamber."
Vedyr looked between her guard leader and Ulric, eyes narrow, dark rings under them and haggard features detracting somewhat from her great beauty. Whatever was going on here, she looked like she'd aged a decade. Her thoughts were plain enough, despair, confusion, a twinge of hope suppressed.
"Speak to Shor, I must return to my task, we are on the edge now." Vedyr said, pain in her voice.
The problem with this hair-brained idea was that he had no idea if it would work. He wasn't a doctor. He wasn't a chemist. He only knew that chelation therapy had saved his great, great, grandmother and his grandmother, bless her iron heart, had told the story every new year's holiday. She was a great believer in declaring the gratitudes of the past on new year's was his Gran. Even if they had been covered, at length, ad nauseum, for the last half-century. It existed and he knew the basic mechanics of the procedure from his education but that was like saying that you know how gravity and fluid dynamics of moving gases works so let's make a plane. Details matter.
Taipan marched the two of them out into the hall and down a stair he'd never used before. They weren't leaving the Arcaneum?
The stair spiraled gently, way too large a radius to be doing anything but going round the trunk of the [Heartwood] pillar onto which Irielhos was built, or grafted, or grown, however you want to think about it. Ulric noticed that the mana density, much decreased outside the amphitheatre of the inner Arcaneum, was growing again. The pressure on his skin grew heavier with every turn of the stair and they simply did not end. He was certain they had descended some twenty flights. His stamina was still recovering, his legs burned with the extended climb down into what had to be the very roots of the great tree. The air was leaden now with wild mana, they had surpassed even the plateau's ambient field.
"Taipan, where the hell are we going?" Ulric asked, unable to restrain his curiosity any longer.
She didn't turn, but kept a hold of his hand and continued their descent as she answered.
"We are taking you to see my Mothers and the Healers. I do not know enough of what you speak to understand if it can help Father but that does not mean that they don't. Perhaps Shor will see a connection between your homeland's technique and the Bane and will be able to utilize the knowledge."
She paused in her speech, momentarily, as if debating with herself. By the way her shoulders squared she made an assessment.
"You asked if there is anything you can do, and I believe there is, which is why I am taking you to a place of which you may never speak, which you will, even if you must commit the sin of untruth, hide from the knowledge of any not in this place we are about to go. I am serious Ulric, you will be killed if you reveal this location. To even speak of the door we entered above is reason enough to banish you. None who are not members of Father's inner ring have ever been here or know that this place is more than a myth. I should not even know about it but there was no greater target to practice true stealth on than Father so I heard things that were beyond my station." The graceful woman told him, as serious as she had ever been.
"I am assuming a place like this would not be unguarded, do they know we're coming?" Ulric asked. Seemed like a good thing to know. If the Iriel'en were protecting an ultimate secret, showing up unannounced was a good way to get arrows in you.
"They do not, Glade Chief, which is why I am going first. They are less likely to shoot me out of hand but a human, any human, would be killed before announcing themselves." Taipan clarified, solemnly.
Good thing he'd checked. Ulric felt like he was a fairly egalitarian dude but something felt slightly off about hiding behind her, just in case they started taking fire from antsy guards. It was what she wanted though so he didn't complain. Or so he told himself, he still wanted to complain. What really stopped him was that his bitching would have been not only pointless, but also humiliating; currently, thanks to his weakened condition, Taipan was strong enough to just manhandle him if he got out of line.
Following with forced docility, and, not a little unease, Ulric observed the surrounding passage and they continued their wide, downward spiral. The corridor had changed drastically if so gradually as to be abrupt when one noticed the contrast between the smooth, clearly civilized hand that had made the entry way far above and the natural texture of the living flesh of the [Heartwood]. Similarly, the stair below his feet had transitioned from smooth, even planks to this grainy oaken texture of rough timber as though the tree had created this passage intentionally for the Elves. And maybe it had. Magic, wooooohh Ulric hummed to himself in a spooky voice.
The air was heavy now, not only with magical force but also with humidity. They had carried no light source with them, yet the corridor was lit evenly, a green-gold light that permeated the passage. Ulric saw, clearly now, growths of fungi, lichen, and moss that were creeping up the walls of the natural corridor, though they shied away from the stair itself. These clinging plants were the source of the light. In bulk they produced a soft, prominent glow.
Surreal, the climb had become something out of a true fairy tale. They were entering the realm of the fae now, the domain of Titania and Erlenkönig.
Upon the next turn the corridor leveled out, stairs, like too conveniently shaped roots, become flat, if textured, floor. This "hallway" was fifty meters long and lit dimly with that same soft light, those same mosses and fungi were now larger with ferns and vines accompanying growing from every surface of the round tunnel, the ceiling included.
You know when you're deep underground. There is a feeling of pressure, of the weight of the stone above. Ulric felt that but magnified. It was as if his presence was known by the great tree and it could choose to simply close itself off, erasing this space and all within it. He wasn't sure if that was the influence of the incredible manafield, denser than anything he'd ever felt. His core could nigh unto taste the unearthly weave of Sano, life mana, Deyndro, tree mana, Terra, earth mana, Aquae, water mana, and Germen, growth or plant mana. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.
He looked at his Shadow in amazement to see how she was responding to this astronomically sublime manafield but was disappointed. She appeared not to even notice. That wasn't possible, Ulric told himself. Maybe this was another case of Ulric being a virtual child, so naïve to the miracles of this world.
What Taipan did notice was that their appearance in the corridor had not gone unnoticed by the score of Royal Guards at the other end, each with their weapons at ready in front of a round metallic door of that same bluish metal as his trident had been composed.
Smith Uldin had called it Magebane Adamant, or, more formally Ektylis Atzal, the Unweaving Metal. It had the distinctive property of destroying spellforms with which it contacted. Natural mana it did not effect, mana shaped and manipulated into a spell it destroyed, making it a fantastic material for Spellbreakers and antimages, hence its more common moniker as Magebane Adamant. A door made of it was virtually impenetrable to magic and would take a good goddamn long time to cut through by conventional means, the stuff was wicked hard.
Ulric noticed the She-Elf in front of him freeze and did the same. His eyes followed hers, not nearly as effective in the low light, and it took him a moment to make out the distinctly hostile posture of the guards. There were, at least, twelve arrows nocked and aimed at the two of them and zero cover.
"We are no threat! It is only Taipan, once Bald'rt's eldest daughter, and her Honor, the [Lord of the Ancient Glade]! We are here to help! Ulric may have magic from his homeland that can counteract the bane and save my Father!" His Shadow boomed, really putting in some bass.
She wasn't actually threatening them but she also made her declaration of aid to be more like warning not to get in her way. Not the play Ulric would have made but, you know what? Taipan do Taipan things.
To their credit, the guardsmen didn't move even a little bit. Discipline had been the underpinning of their training and they did Idra proud. One of them, an Elf Ulric hadn't seen before, took charge, moving to the front to speak without actually being in the way of any of the bowmen.
"We know you, both of you! What I need to know is, how in the Treeless Hells did you get down here? Who spoke of this place? I will know, and they will water the roots for revealing it! Speak, Taipan!" Commanded the captain with a strong, rough, for an Elf, voice.
Taipan didn't take offence, or show any surprise at this welcome. Which was nice, Ulric felt like any sudden movements or surprises were going to quickly be followed by an Unfortunate Accident. One he was positive he wouldn't survive.
"I entered through the unspoken door in the Arcaneum, and I know of it because Lord Bald'rt gets too deep in his cups and runs his tongue when he takes Mother Vedyr to bed!" Taipan shouted.
Ulric's expression turned to mild horror. Taipan was spying on her Father when he went to shag her mother? Gross. Super-mega-ultra gross. He wasn't a prude, but the thought of walking in on his old man and mam bumping uglies was unpleasant in the extreme. They weren't as pretty as the Elven royals, but still. Yikes.
Taipan noticed the look he was directing her way and rolled her eyes.
"What? I was tailing him through the fortress, how was I to know he'd start drinking in the mid-morning and canoodle my mother into making love in the audience room? He shouldn't be speaking of such things in a chamber made to carry voices from the dais anyway." Taipan whispered reproachfully.
Really now? Bald'rt, you dog you.
Ulric kept his face carefully neutral. Best not to show his appreciation for the sheer brass of that great man here. Later, if things turned out well, Ulric would share a discreet fist bump of praise with the Elf King. Right now, don't get killed by his guards before you can try to save his life.
It would appear that Taipan was not the only one who was aware of this sort of failure in security. The lead guard covered his eyes for a moment, whispering foulness that drew looks and caused some degree of ear twitching in the ranks before he drug his hand down a face wearing an incredibly put upon visage.
"Be that as it may," the Elf shouted, struggling to maintain gravitas, "You should not be here! I know of you Glade Chief and I know you are in good standing with Lord Iriel which is why we have not fired on you. But the Ladies Iriel have told us to guard this door with our lives and that is what we shall do!"
Ulric decided it was now or never, "I am only just now recovered enough from my injuries to be of any use to your Lord. My Shadow told me the nature of the Bane and I am certain it carries similar properties to poisons for which my people had found panaceas. The Ladies could not know of these remedies but they must be applied as soon as possible, before the damage is too widespread. This delay could be killing your liege! Go with me, send as many men to watch me as you like, but I need to tell Shor what I know for her to have any chance of removing the poison. No one survives the Bane, you know this! Please!" Ulric emplored.
It had already been a week. Even now, he didn't know if anything could be done, if this heinous shit was as nasty as Taipan described. But the fact that these men were still down there said Bald'rt was still fighting and Ulric would do whatever it took to give him a chance. He didn't know how many of these guardsmen he could neutralize without killing them but he had a fair suspicion that Taipan could go through them like a scythe through wheat. Shadows were abundant here in the near dark of the tunnel.
The leader turned his head and whispers faster than Ulric could follow from so great a distance shot back and forth between the anxious guards. Eventually, love for their Lord won out. The Leader turned back to them.
"Very well! You are already here, too late is it to weep over waters run down stream. The issue of my Lord's impropriety can be delt with later, if ever the chance arises. I will go with you myself, and whatever happens thereafter will lay on mine own head. Sina! You have the lead until I am returned or another appointed." declared the hard edged guardsman.
"Come." He addressed Ulric, indicating that they were allowed to approach.
He and Taipan quickly covered the distance through that unearthly tunnel. The door, a portal the same diameter as the tunnel, was opened, swinging open slowly and soundlessly. Ulric choked slightly on his own spit when he saw that it was actually a thirty centimeter plate of Ektylis Atzal bolted to a [Heartwood] core a meter thick that, to Ulric's eyes fed back through one another through the half meter bolts, composed of some silvery metal with which he was unfamiliar, but that, to his mana sense burned brightly, creating a channel between the metal and the wood core. They fed each other, the Magebane into the Heartwood and vice versa. Ulric knew intuitively that the door would heal itself if attacked, the metal somehow granted the regenerative properties of the underlying magical wood, and the whole thing guarded from targeted magics that would try to undo them. It was the next thing to impregnable. Gods blood, these people weren't fucking around down here.
Through that grand barrier, they entered into a space that was different than any other. The dim green gold glow of the spiraling corridor was gone, replaced by noon day bright gold light like a sunrise, given off by the gnarled wood walls of the ovoid chamber. Large as a cathedral, the walls sloped upwards, curving towards themselves, the ceiling soared up, and up, towering at least sixty meters. Hanging there, far above was a crystalline tower, a prism of greens, browns, and gold enshrouded partially by vines and twisting roots, extending from the walls of the chamber like a great spiderweb.
He was looking at the naked core of the [Heartwood], the beating heart of Irielhos and the lynchpin of Iriel. No wonder he'd felt the manasphere thickening down here. No wonder the Iriel'en were so on edge about anyone knowing about this place. Ulric felt again the sense that the very flesh of the chamber was aware of him and would destroy this space rather than allow harm to come to that crystal.
The [Heartwood] wasn't just alive, it was sentient.
Deep currents, like long, slow notes played just outside his range of hearing swirled in the mana field. Ulric turned to Taipan his eyes wide. She looked like he would imagine a man might who was seeing their god. Which, in a way, she was.
He would have remained frozen there, would have lost himself to the ponderous currents that whispered of ages past, sunsrises uncountable, and the motions of stars beyond the comprehension of mortals, had not Vedyr broken his rapture.
Unseen, unnoticed beneath the grandeur of the core of their great tree, was a bier surrounded by three Elven figures of incredible, peerless beauty. The bier contained a shrouded form, thin, emaciated, unconscious though racked by agony nevertheless. Threads of gossamer light bound the women's forms to the figure on the bier. One looked away from her task, a rictus of fury on her face.
"What is this!? How have they come to the core of Iriel’s patriarch? What are they doing here Choric? We hang on by a thread and you would interrupt!?"
She sounded angry. She sounded tired. She sounded desperate. She sounded like he would imagine a wife might, who was watching her husband die a slow, agonized death.
The guardsman, Choric, remained calm. "They are here on my life, Lady Vedyr. The Glade Chief was told of the Bane poisoning, he says there may be a way to stop the Bane. I judged it worth a try, they had already found the core chamber."
Vedyr looked between her guard leader and Ulric, eyes narrow, dark rings under them and haggard features detracting somewhat from her great beauty. Whatever was going on here, she looked like she'd aged a decade. Her thoughts were plain enough, despair, confusion, a twinge of hope suppressed.
"Speak to Shor, I must return to my task, we are on the edge now." Vedyr said, pain in her voice.
