Dennis McCiernan - Into the Forge

Tip and Beau were given places of honor at the table just to the right of Talarin and Rael's dais, and once again the food was paraded 'round the hall, to the applause of all.

This night there was succulent wild boar, and duck and pheasant, and brook trout, and breads with honey and jellies and jams, and vegetables galore, and an assortment of nuts along with sweetmeats of crystallized fruit.

Mead flowed and wine and water and this night a ginger beer.

And Tip and Beau stuffed themselves as if they would never eat again.

And when the meal was done and the tables cleared-all but the drinking cups and pitchers of water and wine and ale-once again there were songs and singing, once again there were timbrels and strings and wind, and once again there were sagas spoken and chanted-and this night 'twas a ginger-haired, strapping Dara named Aleen, wearing leathers and bearing weapons, who whispered translations unto the buccen.

It was in the middle of "The Saga of Tugor and the Serpent's Eye" that the door swung wide and a bespattered Elf strode into the hall. Compact he was with dark hair and dark eyes, and a sword rode across his back.

The hall fell silent as his hard stride fell upon the wooden floor.

"Alor," said Talarin, standing at the Elf's approach, " 'tis not often one of the Dylvana graces this hall."

"I hight Eloran of Darda Erynian, yet I am come from Adonar these past four days."

"Adonar? Then thou hast ridden the in-between."

"Aye, the difficult crossing at the circle of stone."

Talarin raised an eyebrow. "Yet thou hast come here instead of riding unto thy Darda."

"I am sent on a mission, Alor Talarin, to bring thee tidings: Adon has sundered the way from Neddra to Mithgar."

A collective gasp rippled throughout the chamber, and Beau looked at Tip wide-eyed. "What does this mean?"

Robust Aleen sitting next to them clenched a fist and growled, "It means Adon has taken up the challenge and Gyphon's invasion will cease."

Amid the astonished murmur among the Elves, wide-eyed, Tip asked, "How can he do that?"

Aleen looked at him. "Do what, wee one?"

"Sunder the way between."

"He is Adon," pronounced Aleen, as if that were enough.

Beau nodded and turned to Tip. "She's right, you know."

Tip frowned and shook his head. "But, I mean, what- how-what power-?"

Tip's unformed question fell unanswered as Talarin called for silence. Once again the Lord of the Hidden Vale turned to Eloran, but it was Rael who asked, "Is there more, Alor Eloran?"

"Aye," replied the Dylvana. "I am also come recently from High King Blaine: Modru of Gron has started a wide war."

Again a murmur swept through the assembled Elves, this one low and angry, for Eloran's words were from the High King himself and at last directly confirmed what had only been presumed true till now. Yet the undertone quickly subsided as Eloran continued: "A Horde of Foul Folk has cast down High King Blaine's garrison at Challerain Keep-"

"Oh, my," exclaimed Beau as shock rippled across the gathering.

"-and King Blaine and his small company now fight in retreat, hoping for others to join in the combat. Ere the garrison fell, the High King lit the balefires himself, and they call for an alliance of Men, Elves, Dwarves, and Mages to oppose this great threat."

Once more whispered comments purled throughout the hall, but Beau turned to Tip and querulously said, "Hoy, now, he's left us completely out. I mean, what about Warrowkind? Does the King not know we exist?"

"Ha!" barked Aleen. "He also left unnamed many others, my friend: the Hidden Ones, Utruni, Children of the Sea, Phaels, and more. Yet fear not, for although ye and they are not named, still all are Free Folk and will count in the end."

Talarin held up a hand to quell the unrest, and slowly the murmur died. "Eloran, I would see thee in my chambers. But first thou dost need rest, refreshment, and meal." Talarin motioned to Vanidor, then turned again to Eloran. "In eight candlemarks. neh?"

As Vanidor stepped to the Dylvana's side, Eloran canted his head forward in agreement, and then followed Vanidor from the hall.

Talarin called to the gathering: " 'Tis nought we did not already presuppose; Modru, Gyphon's chief agent, has begun a war for dominion o'er Mithgar. Yet Adon stands with the Free Folk, and we shall prevail. Let us on this turn of the season pledge our hearts unto His cause." Talarin raised his chalice, and all stood and held their cups aloft. "For Adon and Mithgar," he cried.

And as one voice came the collective response, For Adon and Mithgar, Tipperton and Beau joining in.

Now Talarin signaled the harper, and the harp rang out a stirring song, the notes belling across the gathering to kindle hearts aflame. Tone and voice, melody and lyric, voices rose up in accompaniment, Lian unified in harmony. In Sylva they sang, and neither of the two buccen understood a word, yet following Aleen's hurried whispers they sang along as well:

[In Lianion, the First Land, in Adonar so fair…]

And when the song came to an end, with a great shout all raised their cups and quaffed the contents down, and then without a further word, Lian began filing from the hall.

Tip and Beau turned to go, but Rael whispered to Lord Talarin and he in turn called unto them. And when they stepped unto the dais, he said, "As representatives of thy folk, I would have thee join me in my chambers, for we may have much to discuss and I would have ye advise me."

Taken aback, Tip glanced at Beau to find that buccan as astounded as he. Tipperton turned once again unto Talarin and said, "Well, sir, I cannot say we speak for all our folk, yet we would be honored to serve you in any way we can."

"Indeed, yes," said Beau, nodding vigorously.

Talarin smiled. "In eight candlemarks, then, come unto my quarters."

"… not only the Foul Folk but perhaps the Lakh of Hyree and the Rovers of Kistan as well," said Faeon.

"Thou art right, my jaian," said Vanidor, taking a sip of tea.

They sat in a parlor in Talarin's quarters-Talarin, Rael, Faeon, Vanidor, Gildor, Eloran, Tip, and Beau.

Tip looked up at Faeon. "I don't understand."

"The Kistanians and Hyrinians-they are under the sway of Black Mages, acolytes of Gyphon," said Faeon. She turned to Rael. "Is it not so, Ythir?"

"Aye, 'tis true," replied Rael, "or so Aravan tells."

"Aravan?" asked Beau.

"One of the Lian," said Rael. "He sailed the seas when Rwn was yet an isle."

"Oh." Beau nodded and looked at Tipperton, who sadly shook his head, for both buccen knew of the destruction of that place. After all, it was a cataclysm marking the end of the First Era and the start of the Second.

"Aye, for thousands of seasons Aravan traveled the world, sailing the seas in his splendid ship, the Eroean. But when Rwn fell, Aravan left the sea behind. And though the destruction was Durlok's doing-Durlok, a Black Mage and votary of Gyphon-Aravan deemed that Gyphon Himself had had a hand in the devastation, though I understand Gyphon humbled Himself before Adon and declared He had nought to do with such-'twas a renegade acolyte, he claimed."

Tip held out his cup and Gildor refreshed the buccan's tea. As Tip added sweet honey, he asked, "What has this to do with the Hyrinians or the Kistanians?"

"Aravan tells that these two nations worship Gyphon in their temples and towers," replied Rael. "And so, aught concerning a war 'tween Gyphon and Adon will involve them as well."

"Hmm," mused Beau. "So you think they're in this fight, eh?"

All eyes turned to Eloran. He shrugged and set aside his cup, then said, "Most likely, wee one. Most likely. Though when I left Adonar we had no word on whether or no they were engaged or even on the move."