The Call Of Shadows

Chapter Two

King Drogg watched the elves arrive from a window in the southern tower. He bristled at the idea of having them sleep in his beds, and bathe in his waters. They were a loathsome breed, and personally thought they could learn a thing or two about proper respect. He turned away from the window and stepped into his cloak. He briefly told one of his servants in attendance to prepare the beds, and then descended the stairs to the main hallway. From there it was just two rights and a left to the Courtyard where he would greet them. He stopped in front of his son's thick, wooden door. "Rokan! It is time! Meet me in the courtyard, and be dressed in the robes we discussed!" Without waiting for a response, he walked the rest of the way in grim silence. These were trying times indeed.

After standing at attention for nearly half an hour the gates finally opened and King Drogg got his first good look at the Elves he was to house for the next week. The one on the left was frail looking, with green eyes and a walking stick topped with a milky blue gem. He could tell by the way he spoke to the one on his right his mind was still sharp. The other was younger looking, more physically fit with a strong gait and icy blue eyes. He was taller too, although he suspected not by much. Together they walked the last 50 or so feet to the end of the Courtyard.

"Welcome to Kilrot Castle. I hope that your accommodations are satisfactory, and if you need anything please don't hesitate to ask. I trust your journey was pleasant?" Prince Rokan looked to his father briefly, almost afraid to invite them in without his permission. He had stood in silence since the moment the Elves arrived, almost flinching with tension. Prince Rokan cleared his throat and continued. "If you will join me, I can show you to your rooms. We will be serving dinner at 7pm and you are welcome to explore tomorrow."

The elder one spoke up as Rokan turned to show them the way, "Sinna brennik tuma." while pointing at his father. Rokan was a little unsure of the Northern Dialect he was speaking, but he roughly translated it to mean, "Don't trust this one." He hated to admit it, but he didn't blame them for being wary of his father. All his life, his mother had told him the same thing. It made him nervous to admit it, but he still didn't know why, at least with a hundred percent certainty. He was without question a cruel man, but in his eyes he was still honest.

Rokan was slightly embarrassed to ask, but he turned to them for a few moments. "Forgive me," he began "But my father is not one to engage in conversation. May I ask your name? You seem familiar." The older one stood slightly closer than the other and looked caught off guard by the question. "I am Salwein." He replied, "And this is Caldern. We have not been to this place in many years, however, and I am not sure I remember you." His voice was harsh, and dry; Rokan felt sorry for him. He did not look in the best of health. "I am Prince Rokan, the third of the King's sons. My older siblings passed shortly after my mother. Perhaps you knew her?" Oddly, this elicited a laugh from Caldern. "Yes, we knew your mother. She was the only woman who was not afraid to stand up to Begaeth. I met her once, years ago. I was sorry to hear of her passing." Rokan nodded, and could tell that for now the conversation was over. With any luck, he would get his father through this alive. Diplomacy was not his strong suit.

After they parted ways, Rokan was called to his father's throne. King Drogg sat on the edge of his seat and stood as he entered the room. "Tell me Rokan. When you saw the Elves approach today, what did you notice?" Rokan was confused. His father normally didn't ask him such things. Was this a test? He answered with great hesitation. "I noticed how worn Salwein's shoes were. He's a stubborn man, and doesn't like to give in to his age." Clearly, he said something wrong. His father's face grew red with anger. "ELF! A STUBBORN ELF!! He is NOT a man. He is a violent breed and if you EVER compare him to US I will have you beaten!!!" Rokan flinched at his father's words. He knew he would never go as far as to lay a hand on his son, but he feared them nonetheless. His father nearly foamed at the mouth, and took a long drink of wine to calm himself enough to speak again. "You will attend the peace talks tomorrow. You will observe the elves, and when I ask you to speak on my behalf, IF I do, you will not put words in my mouth. Do you understand?" Rokan nodded. "Good. Now get out of my sight."