Sons of Ironstorm - Book 1: Griffon's Rise

Walls Mighty and Tall

Unfortunately Ciramax's hope would go unrealized. As they approached the city, the walls growing taller and taller with each step until they blocked out what lay beyond, they saw first the dark elves, then the wild elves be pulled to the side by their escorts.

<<Leftenant?>> he asked as they drew close to where the other two groups were now waiting with their escorts.

<<Sorry, sir,>> the auburn haired officer replied with an apologetic look. <<Our orders are to hold the visitors to the city outside the gates until a guide can arrive to direct you to where you've been billeted inside the city walls.>>

<<I see.>> Ciramax frowned, the gates now looming before them, the space within teaming with a variety of Lithosin, Sylvasin and short, but strong-looking elves that could only be Merisin.

<<If we've already been billeted, leftenant, will we actually be allowed to rest from our journey once we reach our billets? We've been traveling nearly non-stop for days and have experienced many trials. We'd like a good night's rest in comfortable beds before we face this Voice of yours.>>

<<I understand, sir. Unfortunately, once your belongings have been stored with your billets, you'll be directed to an informal meeting with a member of the Voice before tomorrow's council,>> the officer indicated as she indicated they step to an open area beside the wild elves.

<<So, no rest,>> Ciramax said with a sigh.

<<No, sir, no rest,>> the leftenant, now identifiable as a Merisin elf with other sea elves close by to recognize, quietly confirmed as she and her squad stepped to a place beside them.

Ciramax nodded his thanks before turning back to the rest of the Aquilans as they shifted anxiously in the spot the Ben'havid directed them to. A glance over at the wild elves yielded them anxiously moving about as well, the unbridled creatures as uneasy as the Aquilans were at needing to stay put until their guide arrived. He only paused to briefly lock glances with Nagdrasil, who grimaced her disappointment and anxiety, an expression he echoed to show he agreed with her before bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment and turning away.

<<Let me guess,>> Xanedra groaned upon seeing her friend's scowl. <<No good beer, no pretty boys and no rest for the weary.>>

<<None, whatsoever,>> Ciramax confirmed with a grimace. <<After storing our gear at our billets', we're to be taken to an informal meeting with one of the Voice. Mordrin wouldn't divulge any more information than that.>>

<<Perhaps she couldn't,>> KeLarion noted, a thoughtful expression on his chiseled features. When the others looked in his direction for an explanation, he motioned towards the massive gates leading into the city with his chin, where a cluster of uniformed soldiers stood. It wasn't hard to see what had caught the veteran warrior's attention.

Distinctive in uniforms of gray and black, the Ben'havid escorting the invitees to Elvenfast moved with confidence and determination. The soldiers at the gates, however, wore uniforms of dark blue and dark tanned leather. And they were now looking at the groups of invitees and their escorts with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Between the different uniforms and those looks, the Aquilans could tell the guards at the gates belonged to a different force, a force that hadn't been informed of the Ben'havid's purpose at the gates. Nor had they been informed about the gathering of elves to Elvenfast by the Var Ethisdil.

'So, the Var Ethisdil does not move with impunity in Elvenfast,' Ciramax silently mused as he watched the guards for a moment. That, or their love of secrecy and their overly cautious approach hadn't prepared the city for their arrival.

<<Well, that certainly complicates things,>> he said in a low voice. He looked over at KeLarion and Elis, his two most experienced warriors, now standing close to him. Both men wore almost identical expressions of thoughtful consideration on their faces

<<Think they'll present a problem, my friends?>> he quietly asked, so as to not alert Mordrin and her escort of their concerns.

<<Only if the Var Ethisdil doesn't handle things properly, Highness,>> Elis rumbled. <<Which, considering the amount of planning they've obviously already put into this effort, seems very unlikely.>>

<<I must point out, general, your Highness, that if they've planned as carefully as we seem to have observed, the city's authorities should've been made aware of their efforts,>> KeLarion retorted, with a nod of respect in Elis' direction before going on.

<<And that should've included the city's guard. Yet we see these soldiers look at us with naked curiosity and confusion.>>

<<Good points, from both of you,>> Ciramax frowned. <<As much as I dislike uncertainty, it looks as though we'll be forced to await the outcome of our entry into the city.>> He grimaced.

<<I just hate the idea of having come this far, surviving Caeba and the Stone Forest, Tor Aeinsavir and a Sa'anish portal to suddenly find myself fighting against our would-be hosts for my life.>>

The Aquilans murmured quietly as they discussed the possibilities their leader brought up. So wrapped up in their conversation, they missed the presence of a tall, cloaked figure that stood in the shadow of the city's massive gates. The figure, however, didn't miss them. Even as the Aquilans bent their heads together to talk, bright eyes were sweeping over them after an intense scrutiny of first the dark elves then the wild elves.

<<Well, well,>> a quiet voice mused out loud from within the cloak's deep hood. <<Sons and daughters of the Eagle clan. And the Heir to the House of Aeinwaje, no less; it's been long, indeed, since any with the blood of that noble house have stood within these walls.>> Those bright eyes tracked onto the wiry form of KeLarion who, standing a step away from his comrades, still thoughtfully considered the soldiers at the gates.

<<And you, KeLarion of House Aezenvaar, what you now hold in your hands in far Aerlorn will change our world, forever. Do you realize what you have?>> A smile creased the lips nearly hidden in shadow.

<<No matter, friends. Soon, you will have an inkling. And, when the time is right, all will be revealed, as it was foretold.>> Then the mysterious stranger fell silent to watch the approach of another tall figure, striding towards the Aquilans after passing through the throng at the gates. He was quickly joined by a handful of others, all dressed alike, one each heading towards one of the waiting groups of elves, which now included the Lusinorans, who were just approaching the city.

Ciramax looked up at the sound of someone approaching and watched Leftenant Mordrin salute the newcomer smartly.

<<My friends, welcome to Elvenfast!>> he said with a bright smile after acknowledging Mordrin's salute with a nod.

He was a handsome man, a tall Sylvasin with dark, graying hair trimmed short in the manner of the northern elves, his face adorned with a neatly trimmed goatee in the same dark and silver as his hair. His skin was tanned dark by long watches beneath the sun, speaking of a love of the outdoors. He was dressed simply, in tunic, breeches, boots and cloak, all shades of gray. As their eyes fell upon him, the newcomer's smile broadened, the silver flecks in his deep blue eyes dancing in merry counterpoint.

<<Ah.>> Ciramax's smile was faint as the man stepped close. <<Yet another welcome; you must be our guide to our billet.>>

<<That I am, my friend,>> the newcomer responded, his voice rich and full of life. <<And I bring with me the true welcome. For, not only am I your guide into the city, but I'm also the head of the Voice, the Var Ethisdil's leading council. I am Larengor, Master of the Voice!>>

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