Let's get this over with, Ulric thought. It had been a good while since he'd paid his status any attention, other than a few checks on his health to see the plateau of his regeneration, due to the serious sustained injury from the broken arm. Till now, he'd had little reason.
He quickly summoned his status noting a difference in stat modifiers, those bonuses to his base person that he still viewed with deep suspicion.
It actually took a second to figure out what had changed. He didn't feel anything in his core so his magic was the same. And there it was in the titles.
Snake Charmer. And that description…he earnestly hoped Brighteyes' assessment about the rudeness of randomly [Scan]'ing people was on point. If Geyrt saw this she was going to blow her stack. Ulric resolved never to speak of it. It had bonuses though and those were always nice. Ulric wasn't sure if, how, or why, those bonuses were reflected in his own consciousness. To be honest, he would probably never be entirely comfortable with the entire status thing. He did put a mental bookmark in spending some time one night to try to figure out the disturbingly aggressive impulses that were cropping up.
He'd been so well adjusted in his own world, or, you know, probably not. It's just that a lifetime of socialization and behavioral training from his parents had likely reigned in his more destructive tendencies. Varda didn't just restrain those, it developed them. People who couldn't get down with a little ultraviolence better stay behind very high, very thick walls, and hope to avoid the notice of their less reserved counterparts.
None of this was getting him any closer to figuring out what the hell he was going to do about finding a tutor for magic or establishing connections. Might as well make Taipan, Geyrt, he reminded himself, useful.
"Geyrt, I came to Iriel not only to fulfill obligations towards your brother but also to find a tutor to teach me how to wield magic and to find willing trade partners for the materials I have obtained through harvests on the Plateau. Where is a good place to start with such a thing?" He asked.
"This requires you to speak again with my father." Geyrt said without hesitation.
"We are in war stance. All the people in Irielhos will be carrying out their assigned duties and to take time away from them will need his approval. As far as materials, if you truly have bones of the [Forest Lord] they will be highly sought after. Cores will be desired as well. These can all be used to manufacture tools for war. But do not part with the [Forest Lord] core, this is something that should be a relic of your House, a proof of your authority and symbol of power. Most Greater Houses have some similar object. And do not tell anyone you tried to give it to me." His Shadow continued.
She sounded a little nervous at that last part. Had it really been so bad an idea? Well, maybe, but he was desperate and desperate men did desperate things. If she had been forced to live with her she would understand. Taipan mentioned Houses and Greater Houses too, he hadn't heard anything about any of those from Brighteyes. Probably related to Elven politics and society that hadn't been relevant to anything related to not getting monster'd in the bush so it hadn't been worth mention.
Sounded like they needed to find Bald'rt before anything else. Back to the top? But how? Ulric caved. Despite his earlier determination to never rely on the waspish woman they’d, maybe, made up just a little, or at least agreed to start from a neutral footing.
"Geyrt, I'm not going to lie to you, I was absolutely smashed last night. I have no idea how I got down here. You will need to lead the way if we want to get there in a reasonable time frame." Ulric admitted.
"That much was obvious Ulric Glade Chief. Unless you simply wanted to leave your footprints on every path in the citadel. This is my duty, follow me." She said archly.
The worst of their animosity was behind them but that didn't make Geyrt any less…difficult…was how Brighteyes had described her. Good enough. Ulric wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He let his Shadow lead, sure steps moving them efficiently through the press of busy Elves on their way here and there.
Many of the pavilions they passed had rows of Warriors drilling. Some in formations, some singly. Sometimes in spars. They were all business. There was blood on the Heartwood floor. Healers were tending broken bones, lacerations, and all manner of hurts as the Elves sloughed off weakness like Ulric was shaking his hangover. It made sense. They lived a long, long time. Can't keep a razor edge up all the time, that was how soldiers broke down. Instead, they crafted fundamentals and, in times like these, polished their skills back to readiness.
Geyrt explained what Ulric was seeing at Ulric's unspoken question. Warriors spent their duties in shifts. A Warrior would only be in active duty for a year and then they would rotate off for three. Many of them did double duties as Hunters, a separate role with separate responsibilities. So, at any given time, up to, call it two thirds, of the Iriel'en fighting force was off duty. War had brought every last one of them back to full service and they were arming, training, strategizing, and generally getting ready to make whoever had attacked very sorry. That was the reason why they evacuated their city of civilians. None of the warriors were going to stay behind to protect the structures. Every last one was moving with purpose to take the battles to the enemy. First, they would stall the advance. Then they would cut off the reinforcements and supplies. Then they would strangle the invaders. Finally, they would leave the shelter of the trees to carve a symbol of pain into their attackers so deep they would not return for many lives of men.
It was with no small amount of pride that she told him this. It underlined everything said, her voice carrying the love of her people. Interestingly, she held absolutely no resentment at her current situation, no denial whatsoever in her responsibility for what had happened to her. It was a mark in her favor to Ulric's sensibilities. It was one thing to admit you had erred. It was much harder thing to accept your part in resolving those errors, especially in a case as severe as Geyrt's. Being a Hunter had meant a great deal to her, that much was clear when she spoke of them. Not only because it was a vehicle for her revenge, but also because that was where her heart truly lied. Roaming the deep wood as a sentinel ensuring her people's safety.
That was gone from her and it was a pain she wore bravely. But it would be temporary. Not so damned temporary if Ulric had anything to say about it. He was going to do every last thing in his power to see to it Bald'rt's justice lasted long.
Speaking of the Lord of the land, they had ascended another spiraling set of stairs to reach the uppermost level of this fortress city; Irielhos, Geyrt had called it. There was the familiar hall, and inside the hall were those imposing bronze doors. A pair of serious looking, if handsome, guards were holding the door. As they approached Ulric felt himself dissected, analyzed, reassembled, and declared no threat. That did not wound his pride, not any longer. He had experienced the tyrannical existence that was the Blood Moon of Iriel. There was little he could do to stop that Elf from killing him about twenty times before he realized it.
The doors swung open again in their gravity defying turn. Ulric would love to get his hands on their mechanisms and materials. This entire place was a marvel of magical material science fuckery. Before he could lust too heavily they were ushered into the throne room.
On the dais, in his regular place, sat Bald'rt. On smaller recessed seats that Ulric had not noticed the previous evening sat a trio of Elven women that stood head and shoulders above the rest. Only Geyrt, and the Lord himself, rivaled them for status as perfection incarnate. Sweet Watcher's tits, they were gorgeous. He had very few illusions about being a good looking man. Compared to them, it didn't matter, he was a troll.
One of them was colored as the deep wood folk. Golden brown skin, reddish brown hair, and piercing red eyes, gold flecked. So that would have to be Geyrt's mother. He could tell by the pinched lips and they scowled the same. She also had her daughter's athletic frame, if not her height. The next to the left could only be Brighteyes' dam. She had his pale complexion and golden hair. She also had the same gentle calm and a brown eyed gaze that suggested total control of the situation. Any situation. She tended towards the slim, just shy of delicate. The last was a bit of a mystery. She had skin more akin to Ulric's own tan than any of the Elves he'd seen thus far. Her hair was actually crimson red, brilliant fire pouring down all the way to the floor. Her expression was that of a sphinx, he could gain nothing of her disposition. What he could see was that she had the largest knockers of any elf he'd ever seen. They were on prominent display too with a deeply cleaved dress.
Ulric pulled his gaze away before it could be interpreted as insulting. These people had no right being this pretty. It was worse than with the Watcher. That was a being too perfect to be real. There was no doubt that you were looking at something beyond mortal ken. These haunting creatures though had imperfections that only offset, only embellished the rest of them. Without a doubt he was looking at the three wives of Bald'rt that Brighteyes had mentioned. Damn. Must be nice to be king. The man himself was reclined comfortably in his throne picking what looked like grape sized strawberries off of a small segment of vine. It was still incredibly off putting how similar he was in appearance to his knockout daughter.
Bald'rt spoke first, as was his right.
"Ahh Ulric Glade Chief, you have returned from the festivities looking well. I am sorry that I could not accompany you through the rest of the evening but my family needed tending. In any case, I do believe you were well taken care of, if the gaggle of fine lasses throwing hands for rights was any indication. You are well, yes? Elven spirits can have a mighty kick, and they frequently don't stop just because the fun has." The Elven lord spoke, good humored prodding in his voice.
Sparring with this Elf was proving to be a joy to Ulric. He had such a finesse with making a harmless sounding statement into a pointed joke. Such as the implication that Ulric might be suffering from a hangover. He was, but was not near as inflicted as was the suggestion. What he could remember of the previous night was that the two had spent enough time crossing words that Ulric knew he could not win the battle. He just had to let the other guy know there was one.
"Bald'rt Iriel Chief, your hospitality was never in question. The return of your kin and needs of family are always paramount. Your dais is far more intimidating this day than the previous, I would never blame you for having your attention turned by requirements of state. I fear I partook too much of the powerful spirits, I confess I cannot remember how events unfolded past a certain point. I have no complaints about how the dawn found me though and you have my thanks for providing such bounty." Ulric returned.
He could tell that the Lord caught the implication that he was either too intimidated or too henpecked to be able escape his wives' notice. The exchange was fairly even. Ulric had gotten blistered by the Elven wine and the Lord of the Castle ruled in the shadow of Dragons. Both barbs were subtly levied and both carried truth enough that neither could deny them outright without lending extra depth to the thrust.
Ulric was not, however, prepared for the counter attack.
"I am gladdened that my son's benefactor was able to enjoy the revelry to completion, not all can handle the pace of Elven festivities. That aside, I have heard tale from the birds that you offered a dowry unheard of for my daughter. I will not say that you work too fast, many have vied for her. I will tell you now that you are over humble, she does not merit such a bridal price as the gem you presented. My wonderful flower is, alas, a thorny one and the blood she draws does detract from her value. Glad I am that she had the sense to reject such an over generous offer, sense I was beginning to despair she had thrown to the way side." Spoke the Lord, a slight grin finding its way into his features.
The implication that Ulric had not been able to pleasure his partner slid off him, unable to find purchase. His ravaged bed was evidence enough of the falsehood of that. No, what had him in a near panic was this bride talk. Exactly when the hell had he ever so much as spoken a suggestion of such a thing? Surely not when he'd been insulting her. Even hard-asses like this could not interpret such profane abuse as a proposition of marriage. It had to be his peace offering, the core. But he'd clearly stated his intent was merely to let bygones be bygones. At no point had he even remotely implied his purpose was marriage, what the fuck was going on here?
Geyrt was apoplectic. Her mouth opened and closed half a dozen times between turning from Ulric to her father. Geyrt's mother was glaring openly at her husband, who let the gaze pass through his body to score the wood on the other side.
The other two wives shared a rolling of eyes that indicated they were well marinated in their spouse's japes and teasing.
Oh hey, there was Brighteyes! Ulric hadn't even noticed him between the presence of the sylvan beauties on the dais and the [Lord of the Deep Wood]'s immediate verbal onslaught. He'd been looking around though as he processed the fresh Elven nonsense thrown his way, finding some way to disarm Elf lord. Brighteyes bore a resigned expression, as if he had anticipated this encounter and was waiting for things to proceed as they must. So, no help from that quarter.
It would seem that Bald'rt was in full form. Having thoroughly caught Ulric flat footed, and perturbed his first wife as a bonus, he turned what should have been orderly retreat into a rout.
"It is good that you would do things in the old traditions, I will thank personally whoever it was that told you how to do it correctly. Hunters offering other Hunters trophies from their most prized kills to woo is not frequently done anymore but it is the most appropriate way to capture the affection of my little [Shadow Panther]. And such a trophy! Too humble by half I say. It is no wonder she beat her other suiters bloody, they had not even the nerve to approach her as befit a Hunter. It is just as well, a great thing it is to seal alliances with a recently crowned Lord of the lands, rather than some lesser House's third son. Worry not that she will outlive you, she will carry your House to greater heights after your passing, I have faith. We will need to find a compromise though, I cannot have such an unbalanced offering and you will not have more of my daughters from me. Perhaps you can bring her something a little more reasonable, like a [Crimson Drake], no, even better a [Gilded Queen's Rose]. Yes that will do perfectly." Bald'rt drove forward ruthlessly.
Ulric couldn't speak. How this malicious creature had lived over three hundred years was unbelievable. Geyrt's mother was gripping the dagger hilt in her belt so hard her dark hands were pale. The woman herself looked ready to abandon all dignity and flee the room.
Rescue came from unexpected allies.
The golden woman on the dais, Brighteyes' mother, reached across her shaking companion, patting her shoulder with one hand, in commiseration at their shared suffering, and casually punched her husband hard enough to send him hurtling across the room into the wall from which he rebounded into a table, throwing its contents around the hall. The royal person lay underneath the destroyed kindling of the table laughing breathlessly. A wheezing Elvish question of "Too much?" escaped the debris.
"You are incorrigible, husband." She told the rubble before turning to the center of the room.
"Please, Ulric Glade Chief, excuse my wayward husband. He cannot resist his teasing, even when proper reason should have told him to stop long ago. I will remind him of royal decorum later. Privately."
The tone of that last word was either a very, very good thing, or a very, very bad thing. Ulric wasn't sure anymore. What he was sure of was that he had vastly underestimated the strength of these people. He was comparing them to Brighteyes and Geyrt. That was very much comparing puppies to full grown wolves. It also put into perspective his own status. Every person on that dais could almost certainly render him into paste.
Straightening her gown from her marital correction, she defused the situation gracefully.
"We did, indeed hear of your offer to Geyrt, as we did also hear of the intent behind it. Know that you are under no obligations and that she was fully correct to reject such an offer, both for the spirit of its intent and for the custom of which you could not know. I would not accept such a thing anyway, you have proven yourself a friend of the Elves but are too much an unknown to give away a daughter to marriage. Perhaps in a few decades. Even this Shadow business walks a thin line that I have objected to. Strenuously."
"As have I." interjected Geyrt's mother, who finally turned her baleful gaze from her spouse to level a merely dissatisfied one on Ulric.
"For her transgressions she should have been challenged and slain. Since you, Glade Chief, chose to forego that, clearly in deference to our Lumyt'seit's affection for his sister, it should have fallen to my husband to level the punishment." She said without mercy.
Hard as the Heartwood below his feet was that one. Geyrt, for her part, did not look like she disagreed, nor expect anything less. That put some things into context. His new Shadow bore her father's appearance but the temperament of her mother, which was useful information. It also put into perspective Brighteyes' commitment in telling fully, the unfolding of events. He'd basically condemned his own sister, or, at least, had known it would be a possibility. No wonder he'd been sad. What a guy, Ulric owed him a solid.
"You know I could not do that, Vedyr." Said a booming voice from the remains of the destroyed table.
Bald'rt rose from the ashes of his demise resplendent. Brushing the remaining splinters off his clothes he returned to his seat on the throne as if nothing had happened.
His first wife sniffed loudly and he patted her hand gently mouthing the word "later" in Elvish, which seemed to mollify her somewhat.
"I have never made secret that my little Geyrt is the apple of my eye and my favorite daughter. It is true that her crimes are great, and that they did merit punishment of equal magnitude. I will not have it said that Guestright is a thing of air, nor is the lesser crime of leaving ones post something to be ignored. But she did these things while her mind was greatly unsettled by the grief we all shared for Lumyt'seit's supposed death, and deserves a chance to redress them. A human lifespan in service is long enough to contemplate the wrongs she has done and to make amends. Ulric Glade Chief, when your time on Varda is done, having made good her oaths, I will welcome my Geyrt back to Iriel without reservation and restore her position of Hunter, if she should still want it. I made my will known last evening, as I made it known this morn, and now have I also made it known here before all parties. Thrice have I said and done: I have made my decision and will hear no more on it." Declared the [Lord of the Deep Wood] in a tone that said the matter was over.
This was the most awkward five minutes of Ulric's entire existence. This was, somehow, more awkward than waking up naked in a strange forest. He now felt an entirely new level of sympathy for both Brighteyes and Geyrt. There was no way they escaped from such an upbringing unscathed. If a person could melt through the floor from pure embarrassment his Shadow would have long since parted from this room. Brighteyes shared the same look of practiced tolerance with his mother. The sphinx on her seat remained impassive.
Tentatively, Ulric tried to salvage things as best as he could.
"I am glad there are no misperceptions about the nature of my gift towards your daughter, Lord Bald'rt. I meant no harm, just the opposite, I had hoped to grant her a gift to promote our…cooperation. But things are now to rights and I am satisfied that all parties are at ease, yes? That brings me to the purpose of my visit today. I have gathered many bounties from the place you know as the [Forest of the Forgotten], among other names, and from my own glade. I would make available these things for trade but know not who to seek. I have also experienced, er, less than optimal outcomes from my own attempts to learn control of mana and wanted to contract one who could instruct me in this, if it is possible."
Ulric spoke as carefully as he could. Choosing his words such that there could be no misinterpretation for that jackal on the throne to misconstrue to his purpose. This is probably where people got the whole Fae don't lie but lure you into making deals stuff. He felt like he was dealing with a malicious lawyer.
The Dragons were not entirely thrilled with how things had turned out but did not swoop down to devour him. The lord of the castle simply leaned back to mull things over for a bit. Ulric had really been hoping Brighteyes would be of some help here but he had not reckoned properly with the reality of things: Brighteyes was a child. A solid kid, but still a kid. And he was the youngest person in the room by twenty years. Go ahead and add a century to that if you ignored Ulric's own merely human person. His status at the moment was to be seen and not heard until one of his parents required it. In a way that was fine with Ulric, the kid had had enough trouble recently, let him go back to being a boy again. Ulric's Shadow looked less like she might sick up but was, apparently, trying to stand so still that everyone would forget she was there. No assistance forthcoming. It was entirely possible that the only even break he was going to get was that Brighteyes' mother would pop her husband if he got out of line again. He would settle for that.
A minute passed glacially. The ice age ended with a return to normalcy. It seems that business matters would get business treatment.
"This is a matter in which we have needed discussion, Ulric Glade Chief, I am glad you have brought it up first. The [Plateau of Ancients] has been, for the last six generations of Elves, a no man's land. It was the territory of the monster known as the [Forest Lord] and the beast was as fiercely territorial a creature as has ever been seen. It killed everything that tried to dwell within its domain. Several times Hunters, monster slaying expeditions, and warriors, those of Orlethrem and also of the surrounding Otherkin had attempted to conquer it only to be killed to a man, those that did not flee quickly enough. Before the beast took up residence the place had been a sacred land, none lived there out of respect for the passing of Those Who Came Before, the [Ancients], who are storied to have planted the great trees. Some claim they raised the plateau as well, but that has no bearing on our current talks. The reason I tell you these things, which are common knowledge to most of Orlethrem, if not the Otherkin, is to put in perspective what the fall of the [Forest Lord] means. Where once there was an incredibly large domain that was emptied by the presence of that old terror, now there is a rich land that lies open. Those of Orlethrem would not desire to live there, of course, it remains a sanctuary, the grove a memorial to the legacies of the [Ancients]. But now all the beasts driven from the place by its defender will return. Beasts, monsters, Greater Beasts, all of these will now flock to fill the void." Bald'rt explained in a steady bass, utterly serious.
He did not end there, but continued his speech, which had the feeling of a thing already hashed out, ground well trodden; it lacked the spontaneity of the elf lord's former conversation.
"Where this touches Orlethrem, and Iriel most of all, is that the forest is shifting. Territories of dangerous things, well mapped, are moving. No longer can the marked paths be trusted, as your encounter with the [Golden Heckler Monkey] has proven. Never should that creature have been found on a marked trail so close to our occupied lands. Worse is the fact that we cannot spare Hunters and Warriors to reign in the movements of these creatures, all our attention must be turned to the task of repelling Prespang, or as I suspect, the hand in the glove that is the merchant thugs who rule in Prosper. It is a good thing that we have withdrawn to the Heartwood strongholds else the beasts might be tempted to turn their attention to the farmers, gatherers, and Iriel'en who make their living in the deep wood. That brings us to you yourself, Ulric Glade Chief. Forgive me this small rudeness, I will [Scan] you now to see with my own mind what tale the All-Knowledge has to tell of you. I offer you the same courtesy, you may look on me to see all that there may be to know."
Green eyes flashed silver briefly and Ulric could feel the magic sweep through him. This was a far more intense experience than he had felt from Brighteyes. From Geyrt, who had evidently used [Scan] from hiding he had felt absolutely nothing, but that might be something Hunters can do to preserve their ambush.
If there was a qualitative difference in what Bald'rt saw compared to his children Ulric would not know. He only barely understood how [Scan] or [Status] operated, or anything as related to the touching of the Akashic Record. He'd long since put that on the stack of things labeled "Spooky Magic Shit" in his brain.
Ulric knew the moment the lord of Iriel saw [Snake Charmer]. His serious expression nearly cracked before he resumed his stoic gaze. A flick of the eyes to his daughter, a twitch of his mouth was all he betrayed. But Ulric could feel the contained mirth. The sphinx somehow caught wind of something. She turned to level an ever so slightly inquiring gaze on her spouse before resuming her passive gaze which took in the entire room. Fortunately, the moment passed without disaster. That would not last forever, but, for now, crisis was averted.
Apparently Bald'rt was satisfied by what he saw. A wave of his hand to dismiss the unseen scroll of All-Knowledge and he continued their discussion.
"You are [Lord of the Ancient Glade] in truth, Ulric Glade Chief. The All-Knowledge has recognized your stewardship and your right to that place. This is a matter of grave import then. We are, for all intents and purposes, two neighboring realms. That makes these discussions a matter for diplomacy, and not merely the trading of boons between our persons. In all likelihood, should you survive, you will grow well into your role. And that brings us to your second ask of me. You are as an orphaned child in our world, are you not?"
Ulric only had to think a moment before answering to the truth of that.
"This is probably a fair way to describe it. I have trouble with time, things blur together in the Glade, but by my best reckoning I was reforged on Varda no more than five months ago. All I know of the land, its creatures, its histories, and my own existence I have learned by observation, experimentation, or under the instruction of your son. That isn't to say I am completely ignorant, I hold a wealth of knowledge from my previous life but much of that has proven to be either irrelevant or misleading. In particular, mana, cores, and the influence of magic confound most of my prior knowledge and lead to dangerous assumptions, none of these existed in my old life"
Ulric delivered his reply with absolute honesty. Bald'rt had [Scan]'d him and would know much of these things or would be able to assume many of them. In order to get useful advice or be able to place things in proper context it would be best if he filled in the gaps in what his status told and what his actual expected competency would be.
Something in that must have caught them by surprise though, there was a trading of glances on the dais. For some reason the crimson sphinx collected a coin from Geyrt's dam, silver passing smoothly from one hand to another. Satisfaction purely radiated from the impassive woman. They leaned in together and traded a hushed Elven conversation Ulric didn't even attempt to listen in on.
Bald'rt refocused smoothly and explained.
"Please excuse our rudeness Glade Chief. This does come as a surprise. Reforged are not unknown. We have heard of the possibility in many tales, both of our peoples and those of the Otherkin. We had not heard though that they carried the memory of their past lives. That would explain the oddness of your age in the status, for the ages of both of your lives are shown. It does also explain some of the other abnormalities. To be blunt, you are human only in name and appearance. The circumstances of your reforging have gifted you with a body greater than the others of your kind and a core that is the pinnacle of what we had thought possible. Yours hasn't even awakened and it carries traits of a tier three core."
That revelation did not shock as much as it would have a month ago. Ulric had seen too much of the nature of beasts here, especially the ones that roamed the canopy, vying for control of that territory in the absence of its former lord. They were all too fast, too strong. He'd fought experienced hunters, fighters who considered their strength great enough to challenge those dangerous beasts. They'd been wrong but they'd also had some reason to believe as they had. He'd raced an Elven child though the forest. He'd battled monsters. He healed too fast. He'd survived Geyrt. None of those things would have been possible for him if he'd been an average man. Or even an above average one. And that was disregarding his core and its benefits to his abilities. He had a feeling he was punching above his weight in the magic department. His spells, rudimentary as they were, were potent. Potent enough to destroy a monster that they shouldn't have harmed.
None of it made sense outside of the context that the Watcher had done some serious shenanigans when she reforged him. Stacked the deck in his favor, as it were. Of course, the creature had then placed him into the most dangerous location in the entire continent so far as he knew, so there was also that.
Let's get this over with, Ulric thought. It had been a good while since he'd paid his status any attention, other than a few checks on his health to see the plateau of his regeneration, due to the serious sustained injury from the broken arm. Till now, he'd had little reason.
He quickly summoned his status noting a difference in stat modifiers, those bonuses to his base person that he still viewed with deep suspicion.
It actually took a second to figure out what had changed. He didn't feel anything in his core so his magic was the same. And there it was in the titles.
Snake Charmer. And that description…he earnestly hoped Brighteyes' assessment about the rudeness of randomly [Scan]'ing people was on point. If Geyrt saw this she was going to blow her stack. Ulric resolved never to speak of it. It had bonuses though and those were always nice. Ulric wasn't sure if, how, or why, those bonuses were reflected in his own consciousness. To be honest, he would probably never be entirely comfortable with the entire status thing. He did put a mental bookmark in spending some time one night to try to figure out the disturbingly aggressive impulses that were cropping up.
He'd been so well adjusted in his own world, or, you know, probably not. It's just that a lifetime of socialization and behavioral training from his parents had likely reigned in his more destructive tendencies. Varda didn't just restrain those, it developed them. People who couldn't get down with a little ultraviolence better stay behind very high, very thick walls, and hope to avoid the notice of their less reserved counterparts.
None of this was getting him any closer to figuring out what the hell he was going to do about finding a tutor for magic or establishing connections. Might as well make Taipan, Geyrt, he reminded himself, useful.
"Geyrt, I came to Iriel not only to fulfill obligations towards your brother but also to find a tutor to teach me how to wield magic and to find willing trade partners for the materials I have obtained through harvests on the Plateau. Where is a good place to start with such a thing?" He asked.
"This requires you to speak again with my father." Geyrt said without hesitation.
"We are in war stance. All the people in Irielhos will be carrying out their assigned duties and to take time away from them will need his approval. As far as materials, if you truly have bones of the [Forest Lord] they will be highly sought after. Cores will be desired as well. These can all be used to manufacture tools for war. But do not part with the [Forest Lord] core, this is something that should be a relic of your House, a proof of your authority and symbol of power. Most Greater Houses have some similar object. And do not tell anyone you tried to give it to me." His Shadow continued.
She sounded a little nervous at that last part. Had it really been so bad an idea? Well, maybe, but he was desperate and desperate men did desperate things. If she had been forced to live with her she would understand. Taipan mentioned Houses and Greater Houses too, he hadn't heard anything about any of those from Brighteyes. Probably related to Elven politics and society that hadn't been relevant to anything related to not getting monster'd in the bush so it hadn't been worth mention.
Sounded like they needed to find Bald'rt before anything else. Back to the top? But how? Ulric caved. Despite his earlier determination to never rely on the waspish woman they’d, maybe, made up just a little, or at least agreed to start from a neutral footing.
"Geyrt, I'm not going to lie to you, I was absolutely smashed last night. I have no idea how I got down here. You will need to lead the way if we want to get there in a reasonable time frame." Ulric admitted.
"That much was obvious Ulric Glade Chief. Unless you simply wanted to leave your footprints on every path in the citadel. This is my duty, follow me." She said archly.
The worst of their animosity was behind them but that didn't make Geyrt any less…difficult…was how Brighteyes had described her. Good enough. Ulric wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He let his Shadow lead, sure steps moving them efficiently through the press of busy Elves on their way here and there.
Many of the pavilions they passed had rows of Warriors drilling. Some in formations, some singly. Sometimes in spars. They were all business. There was blood on the Heartwood floor. Healers were tending broken bones, lacerations, and all manner of hurts as the Elves sloughed off weakness like Ulric was shaking his hangover. It made sense. They lived a long, long time. Can't keep a razor edge up all the time, that was how soldiers broke down. Instead, they crafted fundamentals and, in times like these, polished their skills back to readiness.
Geyrt explained what Ulric was seeing at Ulric's unspoken question. Warriors spent their duties in shifts. A Warrior would only be in active duty for a year and then they would rotate off for three. Many of them did double duties as Hunters, a separate role with separate responsibilities. So, at any given time, up to, call it two thirds, of the Iriel'en fighting force was off duty. War had brought every last one of them back to full service and they were arming, training, strategizing, and generally getting ready to make whoever had attacked very sorry. That was the reason why they evacuated their city of civilians. None of the warriors were going to stay behind to protect the structures. Every last one was moving with purpose to take the battles to the enemy. First, they would stall the advance. Then they would cut off the reinforcements and supplies. Then they would strangle the invaders. Finally, they would leave the shelter of the trees to carve a symbol of pain into their attackers so deep they would not return for many lives of men.
It was with no small amount of pride that she told him this. It underlined everything said, her voice carrying the love of her people. Interestingly, she held absolutely no resentment at her current situation, no denial whatsoever in her responsibility for what had happened to her. It was a mark in her favor to Ulric's sensibilities. It was one thing to admit you had erred. It was much harder thing to accept your part in resolving those errors, especially in a case as severe as Geyrt's. Being a Hunter had meant a great deal to her, that much was clear when she spoke of them. Not only because it was a vehicle for her revenge, but also because that was where her heart truly lied. Roaming the deep wood as a sentinel ensuring her people's safety.
That was gone from her and it was a pain she wore bravely. But it would be temporary. Not so damned temporary if Ulric had anything to say about it. He was going to do every last thing in his power to see to it Bald'rt's justice lasted long.
Speaking of the Lord of the land, they had ascended another spiraling set of stairs to reach the uppermost level of this fortress city; Irielhos, Geyrt had called it. There was the familiar hall, and inside the hall were those imposing bronze doors. A pair of serious looking, if handsome, guards were holding the door. As they approached Ulric felt himself dissected, analyzed, reassembled, and declared no threat. That did not wound his pride, not any longer. He had experienced the tyrannical existence that was the Blood Moon of Iriel. There was little he could do to stop that Elf from killing him about twenty times before he realized it.
The doors swung open again in their gravity defying turn. Ulric would love to get his hands on their mechanisms and materials. This entire place was a marvel of magical material science fuckery. Before he could lust too heavily they were ushered into the throne room.
On the dais, in his regular place, sat Bald'rt. On smaller recessed seats that Ulric had not noticed the previous evening sat a trio of Elven women that stood head and shoulders above the rest. Only Geyrt, and the Lord himself, rivaled them for status as perfection incarnate. Sweet Watcher's tits, they were gorgeous. He had very few illusions about being a good looking man. Compared to them, it didn't matter, he was a troll.
One of them was colored as the deep wood folk. Golden brown skin, reddish brown hair, and piercing red eyes, gold flecked. So that would have to be Geyrt's mother. He could tell by the pinched lips and they scowled the same. She also had her daughter's athletic frame, if not her height. The next to the left could only be Brighteyes' dam. She had his pale complexion and golden hair. She also had the same gentle calm and a brown eyed gaze that suggested total control of the situation. Any situation. She tended towards the slim, just shy of delicate. The last was a bit of a mystery. She had skin more akin to Ulric's own tan than any of the Elves he'd seen thus far. Her hair was actually crimson red, brilliant fire pouring down all the way to the floor. Her expression was that of a sphinx, he could gain nothing of her disposition. What he could see was that she had the largest knockers of any elf he'd ever seen. They were on prominent display too with a deeply cleaved dress.
Ulric pulled his gaze away before it could be interpreted as insulting. These people had no right being this pretty. It was worse than with the Watcher. That was a being too perfect to be real. There was no doubt that you were looking at something beyond mortal ken. These haunting creatures though had imperfections that only offset, only embellished the rest of them. Without a doubt he was looking at the three wives of Bald'rt that Brighteyes had mentioned. Damn. Must be nice to be king. The man himself was reclined comfortably in his throne picking what looked like grape sized strawberries off of a small segment of vine. It was still incredibly off putting how similar he was in appearance to his knockout daughter.
Bald'rt spoke first, as was his right.
"Ahh Ulric Glade Chief, you have returned from the festivities looking well. I am sorry that I could not accompany you through the rest of the evening but my family needed tending. In any case, I do believe you were well taken care of, if the gaggle of fine lasses throwing hands for rights was any indication. You are well, yes? Elven spirits can have a mighty kick, and they frequently don't stop just because the fun has." The Elven lord spoke, good humored prodding in his voice.
Sparring with this Elf was proving to be a joy to Ulric. He had such a finesse with making a harmless sounding statement into a pointed joke. Such as the implication that Ulric might be suffering from a hangover. He was, but was not near as inflicted as was the suggestion. What he could remember of the previous night was that the two had spent enough time crossing words that Ulric knew he could not win the battle. He just had to let the other guy know there was one.
"Bald'rt Iriel Chief, your hospitality was never in question. The return of your kin and needs of family are always paramount. Your dais is far more intimidating this day than the previous, I would never blame you for having your attention turned by requirements of state. I fear I partook too much of the powerful spirits, I confess I cannot remember how events unfolded past a certain point. I have no complaints about how the dawn found me though and you have my thanks for providing such bounty." Ulric returned.
He could tell that the Lord caught the implication that he was either too intimidated or too henpecked to be able escape his wives' notice. The exchange was fairly even. Ulric had gotten blistered by the Elven wine and the Lord of the Castle ruled in the shadow of Dragons. Both barbs were subtly levied and both carried truth enough that neither could deny them outright without lending extra depth to the thrust.
Ulric was not, however, prepared for the counter attack.
"I am gladdened that my son's benefactor was able to enjoy the revelry to completion, not all can handle the pace of Elven festivities. That aside, I have heard tale from the birds that you offered a dowry unheard of for my daughter. I will not say that you work too fast, many have vied for her. I will tell you now that you are over humble, she does not merit such a bridal price as the gem you presented. My wonderful flower is, alas, a thorny one and the blood she draws does detract from her value. Glad I am that she had the sense to reject such an over generous offer, sense I was beginning to despair she had thrown to the way side." Spoke the Lord, a slight grin finding its way into his features.
The implication that Ulric had not been able to pleasure his partner slid off him, unable to find purchase. His ravaged bed was evidence enough of the falsehood of that. No, what had him in a near panic was this bride talk. Exactly when the hell had he ever so much as spoken a suggestion of such a thing? Surely not when he'd been insulting her. Even hard-asses like this could not interpret such profane abuse as a proposition of marriage. It had to be his peace offering, the core. But he'd clearly stated his intent was merely to let bygones be bygones. At no point had he even remotely implied his purpose was marriage, what the fuck was going on here?
Geyrt was apoplectic. Her mouth opened and closed half a dozen times between turning from Ulric to her father. Geyrt's mother was glaring openly at her husband, who let the gaze pass through his body to score the wood on the other side.
The other two wives shared a rolling of eyes that indicated they were well marinated in their spouse's japes and teasing.
Oh hey, there was Brighteyes! Ulric hadn't even noticed him between the presence of the sylvan beauties on the dais and the [Lord of the Deep Wood]'s immediate verbal onslaught. He'd been looking around though as he processed the fresh Elven nonsense thrown his way, finding some way to disarm Elf lord. Brighteyes bore a resigned expression, as if he had anticipated this encounter and was waiting for things to proceed as they must. So, no help from that quarter.
It would seem that Bald'rt was in full form. Having thoroughly caught Ulric flat footed, and perturbed his first wife as a bonus, he turned what should have been orderly retreat into a rout.
"It is good that you would do things in the old traditions, I will thank personally whoever it was that told you how to do it correctly. Hunters offering other Hunters trophies from their most prized kills to woo is not frequently done anymore but it is the most appropriate way to capture the affection of my little [Shadow Panther]. And such a trophy! Too humble by half I say. It is no wonder she beat her other suiters bloody, they had not even the nerve to approach her as befit a Hunter. It is just as well, a great thing it is to seal alliances with a recently crowned Lord of the lands, rather than some lesser House's third son. Worry not that she will outlive you, she will carry your House to greater heights after your passing, I have faith. We will need to find a compromise though, I cannot have such an unbalanced offering and you will not have more of my daughters from me. Perhaps you can bring her something a little more reasonable, like a [Crimson Drake], no, even better a [Gilded Queen's Rose]. Yes that will do perfectly." Bald'rt drove forward ruthlessly.
Ulric couldn't speak. How this malicious creature had lived over three hundred years was unbelievable. Geyrt's mother was gripping the dagger hilt in her belt so hard her dark hands were pale. The woman herself looked ready to abandon all dignity and flee the room.
Rescue came from unexpected allies.
The golden woman on the dais, Brighteyes' mother, reached across her shaking companion, patting her shoulder with one hand, in commiseration at their shared suffering, and casually punched her husband hard enough to send him hurtling across the room into the wall from which he rebounded into a table, throwing its contents around the hall. The royal person lay underneath the destroyed kindling of the table laughing breathlessly. A wheezing Elvish question of "Too much?" escaped the debris.
"You are incorrigible, husband." She told the rubble before turning to the center of the room.
"Please, Ulric Glade Chief, excuse my wayward husband. He cannot resist his teasing, even when proper reason should have told him to stop long ago. I will remind him of royal decorum later. Privately."
The tone of that last word was either a very, very good thing, or a very, very bad thing. Ulric wasn't sure anymore. What he was sure of was that he had vastly underestimated the strength of these people. He was comparing them to Brighteyes and Geyrt. That was very much comparing puppies to full grown wolves. It also put into perspective his own status. Every person on that dais could almost certainly render him into paste.
Straightening her gown from her marital correction, she defused the situation gracefully.
"We did, indeed hear of your offer to Geyrt, as we did also hear of the intent behind it. Know that you are under no obligations and that she was fully correct to reject such an offer, both for the spirit of its intent and for the custom of which you could not know. I would not accept such a thing anyway, you have proven yourself a friend of the Elves but are too much an unknown to give away a daughter to marriage. Perhaps in a few decades. Even this Shadow business walks a thin line that I have objected to. Strenuously."
"As have I." interjected Geyrt's mother, who finally turned her baleful gaze from her spouse to level a merely dissatisfied one on Ulric.
"For her transgressions she should have been challenged and slain. Since you, Glade Chief, chose to forego that, clearly in deference to our Lumyt'seit's affection for his sister, it should have fallen to my husband to level the punishment." She said without mercy.
Hard as the Heartwood below his feet was that one. Geyrt, for her part, did not look like she disagreed, nor expect anything less. That put some things into context. His new Shadow bore her father's appearance but the temperament of her mother, which was useful information. It also put into perspective Brighteyes' commitment in telling fully, the unfolding of events. He'd basically condemned his own sister, or, at least, had known it would be a possibility. No wonder he'd been sad. What a guy, Ulric owed him a solid.
"You know I could not do that, Vedyr." Said a booming voice from the remains of the destroyed table.
Bald'rt rose from the ashes of his demise resplendent. Brushing the remaining splinters off his clothes he returned to his seat on the throne as if nothing had happened.
His first wife sniffed loudly and he patted her hand gently mouthing the word "later" in Elvish, which seemed to mollify her somewhat.
"I have never made secret that my little Geyrt is the apple of my eye and my favorite daughter. It is true that her crimes are great, and that they did merit punishment of equal magnitude. I will not have it said that Guestright is a thing of air, nor is the lesser crime of leaving ones post something to be ignored. But she did these things while her mind was greatly unsettled by the grief we all shared for Lumyt'seit's supposed death, and deserves a chance to redress them. A human lifespan in service is long enough to contemplate the wrongs she has done and to make amends. Ulric Glade Chief, when your time on Varda is done, having made good her oaths, I will welcome my Geyrt back to Iriel without reservation and restore her position of Hunter, if she should still want it. I made my will known last evening, as I made it known this morn, and now have I also made it known here before all parties. Thrice have I said and done: I have made my decision and will hear no more on it." Declared the [Lord of the Deep Wood] in a tone that said the matter was over.
This was the most awkward five minutes of Ulric's entire existence. This was, somehow, more awkward than waking up naked in a strange forest. He now felt an entirely new level of sympathy for both Brighteyes and Geyrt. There was no way they escaped from such an upbringing unscathed. If a person could melt through the floor from pure embarrassment his Shadow would have long since parted from this room. Brighteyes shared the same look of practiced tolerance with his mother. The sphinx on her seat remained impassive.
Tentatively, Ulric tried to salvage things as best as he could.
"I am glad there are no misperceptions about the nature of my gift towards your daughter, Lord Bald'rt. I meant no harm, just the opposite, I had hoped to grant her a gift to promote our…cooperation. But things are now to rights and I am satisfied that all parties are at ease, yes? That brings me to the purpose of my visit today. I have gathered many bounties from the place you know as the [Forest of the Forgotten], among other names, and from my own glade. I would make available these things for trade but know not who to seek. I have also experienced, er, less than optimal outcomes from my own attempts to learn control of mana and wanted to contract one who could instruct me in this, if it is possible."
Ulric spoke as carefully as he could. Choosing his words such that there could be no misinterpretation for that jackal on the throne to misconstrue to his purpose. This is probably where people got the whole Fae don't lie but lure you into making deals stuff. He felt like he was dealing with a malicious lawyer.
The Dragons were not entirely thrilled with how things had turned out but did not swoop down to devour him. The lord of the castle simply leaned back to mull things over for a bit. Ulric had really been hoping Brighteyes would be of some help here but he had not reckoned properly with the reality of things: Brighteyes was a child. A solid kid, but still a kid. And he was the youngest person in the room by twenty years. Go ahead and add a century to that if you ignored Ulric's own merely human person. His status at the moment was to be seen and not heard until one of his parents required it. In a way that was fine with Ulric, the kid had had enough trouble recently, let him go back to being a boy again. Ulric's Shadow looked less like she might sick up but was, apparently, trying to stand so still that everyone would forget she was there. No assistance forthcoming. It was entirely possible that the only even break he was going to get was that Brighteyes' mother would pop her husband if he got out of line again. He would settle for that.
A minute passed glacially. The ice age ended with a return to normalcy. It seems that business matters would get business treatment.
"This is a matter in which we have needed discussion, Ulric Glade Chief, I am glad you have brought it up first. The [Plateau of Ancients] has been, for the last six generations of Elves, a no man's land. It was the territory of the monster known as the [Forest Lord] and the beast was as fiercely territorial a creature as has ever been seen. It killed everything that tried to dwell within its domain. Several times Hunters, monster slaying expeditions, and warriors, those of Orlethrem and also of the surrounding Otherkin had attempted to conquer it only to be killed to a man, those that did not flee quickly enough. Before the beast took up residence the place had been a sacred land, none lived there out of respect for the passing of Those Who Came Before, the [Ancients], who are storied to have planted the great trees. Some claim they raised the plateau as well, but that has no bearing on our current talks. The reason I tell you these things, which are common knowledge to most of Orlethrem, if not the Otherkin, is to put in perspective what the fall of the [Forest Lord] means. Where once there was an incredibly large domain that was emptied by the presence of that old terror, now there is a rich land that lies open. Those of Orlethrem would not desire to live there, of course, it remains a sanctuary, the grove a memorial to the legacies of the [Ancients]. But now all the beasts driven from the place by its defender will return. Beasts, monsters, Greater Beasts, all of these will now flock to fill the void." Bald'rt explained in a steady bass, utterly serious.
He did not end there, but continued his speech, which had the feeling of a thing already hashed out, ground well trodden; it lacked the spontaneity of the elf lord's former conversation.
"Where this touches Orlethrem, and Iriel most of all, is that the forest is shifting. Territories of dangerous things, well mapped, are moving. No longer can the marked paths be trusted, as your encounter with the [Golden Heckler Monkey] has proven. Never should that creature have been found on a marked trail so close to our occupied lands. Worse is the fact that we cannot spare Hunters and Warriors to reign in the movements of these creatures, all our attention must be turned to the task of repelling Prespang, or as I suspect, the hand in the glove that is the merchant thugs who rule in Prosper. It is a good thing that we have withdrawn to the Heartwood strongholds else the beasts might be tempted to turn their attention to the farmers, gatherers, and Iriel'en who make their living in the deep wood. That brings us to you yourself, Ulric Glade Chief. Forgive me this small rudeness, I will [Scan] you now to see with my own mind what tale the All-Knowledge has to tell of you. I offer you the same courtesy, you may look on me to see all that there may be to know."
Green eyes flashed silver briefly and Ulric could feel the magic sweep through him. This was a far more intense experience than he had felt from Brighteyes. From Geyrt, who had evidently used [Scan] from hiding he had felt absolutely nothing, but that might be something Hunters can do to preserve their ambush.
If there was a qualitative difference in what Bald'rt saw compared to his children Ulric would not know. He only barely understood how [Scan] or [Status] operated, or anything as related to the touching of the Akashic Record. He'd long since put that on the stack of things labeled "Spooky Magic Shit" in his brain.
Ulric knew the moment the lord of Iriel saw [Snake Charmer]. His serious expression nearly cracked before he resumed his stoic gaze. A flick of the eyes to his daughter, a twitch of his mouth was all he betrayed. But Ulric could feel the contained mirth. The sphinx somehow caught wind of something. She turned to level an ever so slightly inquiring gaze on her spouse before resuming her passive gaze which took in the entire room. Fortunately, the moment passed without disaster. That would not last forever, but, for now, crisis was averted.
Apparently Bald'rt was satisfied by what he saw. A wave of his hand to dismiss the unseen scroll of All-Knowledge and he continued their discussion.
"You are [Lord of the Ancient Glade] in truth, Ulric Glade Chief. The All-Knowledge has recognized your stewardship and your right to that place. This is a matter of grave import then. We are, for all intents and purposes, two neighboring realms. That makes these discussions a matter for diplomacy, and not merely the trading of boons between our persons. In all likelihood, should you survive, you will grow well into your role. And that brings us to your second ask of me. You are as an orphaned child in our world, are you not?"
Ulric only had to think a moment before answering to the truth of that.
"This is probably a fair way to describe it. I have trouble with time, things blur together in the Glade, but by my best reckoning I was reforged on Varda no more than five months ago. All I know of the land, its creatures, its histories, and my own existence I have learned by observation, experimentation, or under the instruction of your son. That isn't to say I am completely ignorant, I hold a wealth of knowledge from my previous life but much of that has proven to be either irrelevant or misleading. In particular, mana, cores, and the influence of magic confound most of my prior knowledge and lead to dangerous assumptions, none of these existed in my old life"
Ulric delivered his reply with absolute honesty. Bald'rt had [Scan]'d him and would know much of these things or would be able to assume many of them. In order to get useful advice or be able to place things in proper context it would be best if he filled in the gaps in what his status told and what his actual expected competency would be.
Something in that must have caught them by surprise though, there was a trading of glances on the dais. For some reason the crimson sphinx collected a coin from Geyrt's dam, silver passing smoothly from one hand to another. Satisfaction purely radiated from the impassive woman. They leaned in together and traded a hushed Elven conversation Ulric didn't even attempt to listen in on.
Bald'rt refocused smoothly and explained.
"Please excuse our rudeness Glade Chief. This does come as a surprise. Reforged are not unknown. We have heard of the possibility in many tales, both of our peoples and those of the Otherkin. We had not heard though that they carried the memory of their past lives. That would explain the oddness of your age in the status, for the ages of both of your lives are shown. It does also explain some of the other abnormalities. To be blunt, you are human only in name and appearance. The circumstances of your reforging have gifted you with a body greater than the others of your kind and a core that is the pinnacle of what we had thought possible. Yours hasn't even awakened and it carries traits of a tier three core."
That revelation did not shock as much as it would have a month ago. Ulric had seen too much of the nature of beasts here, especially the ones that roamed the canopy, vying for control of that territory in the absence of its former lord. They were all too fast, too strong. He'd fought experienced hunters, fighters who considered their strength great enough to challenge those dangerous beasts. They'd been wrong but they'd also had some reason to believe as they had. He'd raced an Elven child though the forest. He'd battled monsters. He healed too fast. He'd survived Geyrt. None of those things would have been possible for him if he'd been an average man. Or even an above average one. And that was disregarding his core and its benefits to his abilities. He had a feeling he was punching above his weight in the magic department. His spells, rudimentary as they were, were potent. Potent enough to destroy a monster that they shouldn't have harmed.
None of it made sense outside of the context that the Watcher had done some serious shenanigans when she reforged him. Stacked the deck in his favor, as it were. Of course, the creature had then placed him into the most dangerous location in the entire continent so far as he knew, so there was also that.
