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masterghandalf) wrote2024-01-05 06:57 am
masterghandalf) wrote2024-01-05 06:57 am
Elminster in Myth Drannor Chapter Five: To Call on the Coronal
This is a repost from Das_sporking2. Previous installments of this sporking may be found here.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Elminster in Myth Drannor! Last time, Elminster reached Cormanthor, wandered around the city, and went to House Alastrarra without telling anyone he wasn’t Iymbryl, with the result that a lot of chaos ensued and at least one person died before he passed the kiira on to Ornthalas. Really. Today, it’s time to meet the coronal! Joining us once again will be Calassara and Mira!
Chapter Five: To Call on the Coronal
Calassara: Well, I can only suppose this chapter is better than the last one… or perhaps I expect too much of Greenwood who has, alas, disappointed me before… Anyway, our opening quote today is from The High History of Faerunian Archmges Mighty (we really are only using the two sources, aren’t we?). And so it befell that Elminster of Athalantar found the elven family he had so inadvertently joined and did that which he was sworn to do. Like many who fulfill an unusual and dangerous duty, he received scant thanks for it. Had it not been for the grace of Mystra, he might easily have died in the Coronal’s garden that night. *flatly* Joined. Yes, I suppose that is one way to put it… not a particularly accurate way, alas… and honestly, while the Alastrarras did not seem a particularly pleasant lot (I know their type well, more’s the pity) I can fully understand why they wouldn’t be feeling particularly grateful towards Elminster at the moment! And so, the chapter proper opens with Ornthalas as, well… Ornthalas Alastrarra stumbled across the chamber, clutching his head and screaming, his voice raw and ugly. Crackling lightnings of magic trailed from the gem that shone like a new star upon his brow, back to the one from whom it had come: the sprawled body on the floor, so young, and ugly—and human. Savored Sting, that artifact tortures you even when you’re the intended recipient! …nothing wrong with that, if you’re into it (and I’ll admit I’ve… sampled), but you should have the option to give your consent first! Did anyone even tell Ornthalas what would happen to him, or is he just as lost as Elminster? Meanwhile, the house guards desperately try to pierce a magical barrier around the room to assist Ornthalas, to no avail. again. Under their high-booted feet Melarue lay sprawled, her hair outflung like a fan around her, stunned from her own attempt to burst through Naeryndam’s barrier. She’d forgotten the manyfold enchantments upon her jewelry. Oh dear. Someone really should move her… before she gets stepped on…
Lady Namyriitha is standing back, trying to unravel the barrier on her own; meanwhile, Filaurel (and most of the other women, because clearly only women would be horrified at this sight *rolls her eyes*) is screaming at both the revelation of Elminster and… everything else. Meanwhile, Naeryndam has raised a scepter in one hand and a sword in the other; when the barrier comes down, he raises them both and starts blasting his own house guards into unconsciousness. Was simply ordering them to stay back not an option? Namyriitha demands to know why her brother is doing this (I’d like to know that, too…) and he tells her to stay back while he tends to Elminster. The only sounds that followed their rolling, imperious thunder were faint groans from where Ornthalas lay in a corner, his head against the wall, and sobbings here and there where women who’d been screaming struggled to catch their breaths again. *rolling her eyes* Oh, yes, I do wonder why this family isn’t thanking Elminster for bringing all this down on them! “There’s entirely too much shouting and spellhurling in this House, these days,” Naeryndam observed, “and not nearly enough listening, caring, and thinking. In a few generations more, we’ll be as bad as the Starym.” Oh, I quite agree there’s not much listening, caring or thinking going on here… then again, I don’t think you’ve shown yourself to be a paragon of those qualities either, Naeryndam. But apparently even the others are shocked, since he just insulted the Starym, and the Starym are considered even by their enemies to be the greatest and noblest of all the houses of Cormanthor and, my, my, you’d think their matriarch trying to assassinate the coronal in the prologue might have changed that. Apparently not. Naeryndam releases a wave of fire as a warning (in a crowded room, that could go… rather catastrophically wrong) and tells everyone to listen to him. Including Ornthalas, who is now the heir of the house but is currently writhing on the floor moaning, and barely manages a nod in response. How generous of him.
Mira: *holding her scarf tightly* Well, this all seems… awful, doesn’t it? Anyway, Naeryndam says that Elminster was just following the law of Cormanthor, and yet everyone except for Filaurel – and Sheedra and Nanthleene, whoever they might be – attacked him. Well, he did kill their cousin… and evil or not, a cousin’s a cousin. I think. I don’t have any cousins myself; not that I’m aware of. But it doesn’t seem the sort of thing one lets go? Naeryndam tells the others they disgust him, that Elminster came through great dangers to deliver the kiira, and their house has an heir and their knowledge isn’t lost because of him. He also could have avoided all this by asking for Ornthalas as soon as he reached the house, I must say… Namyriitha tries to interrupt, but Naeryndam tells her she listens even worse than the younger generation. Had the moment been less important, the air less full of tension and awe, the gathered House might have enjoyed the sight of the sharp-tongued matriarch opening and closing her mouth like a gasping fish in silence, as her face flooded crimson and purple. No one, though, so much as looked at her; their eyes were all on Naeryndam, the oldest living Alastrarran. …why do I get the feeling Greenwood is enjoying this a little too much? So, Naeryndam claims that Elminster followed the law, and the law is the law – no one in Hollowfaust would disagree there; we have our laws for a reason – and the only thing that separates the elves from humans or hobgoblins. And somehow even when coming to a human’s defense, he still manages to be racist? That’s kind of impressive, in an awful way. At this, Elminster stirs. One of the guards throws a knife at him, but Naeryndam deflects it and calls them all bad listeners again. This time, I have to agree with him.
Namyriitha argues that the Alastrarras will be forever dishonored if it’s known they “harbored” a human, and Melarue – apparently the poor girl didn’t get stepped on after all – agrees. Naeryndam then asks Ornthalas, as the new bearer of the family kiira, what their ancestors would say about this. He stumbles to his feet, memories that were not his own playing in his head, which sounds very disturbing – and gives his answer. “Prudence bids us conduct the human to the Coronal, that no stain be upon us.” He looked from one Alastrarran to another. “Yet if we harm so much as a hair upon his head, our honor is bereft. This man has done us more service than any elf living, save you, noble Naeryndam.” And so Elminster is spared, I suppose. Naeryndam comments that Ornthalas has worn the kiira for moments and already gained good sense, which… would be a lot more impactful if I knew what he was like before? Ornthalas agrees with his uncle and calls his sisters to join him in singing mourning songs for Iymbryl. Can… can I listen in? That sounds fascinating – certainly much more so than anything else in this book! And as my guild is often called to officiate at funerals, I know a number of laments myself… perhaps Ornthalas would like to hear? *she flushes* And yes, I am stalling, why do you ask? The siblings leave the room, but before Filaurel goes, she asks Elminster’s name, and he introduces himself. He then tells Naeryndam he’s in his debt and asks to be taken to the Coronal. Namyriitha agrees - she wants that out of her house immediately. Hmmm; Elminster is careless, the Alastrarras are racist – I don’t think I like any of these people, except maybe Filaurel! Meanwhile, Nanthleene, one of the younger women, is staring openly at Elminster’s strange human appearance; he winks back, because of course. That brought gasps of outrage from both Lady Namyriitha and Sheedra, the mother of Nanthleene, who snatched at her daughter’s hand, and practically dragged her from the chamber. If I had a daughter – and was old enough to have one that age - I’d want to keep her away from Elminster, too – as things actually are, I think I’ll just stay far, far away from him myself!
Calassara: Smart girl. I, on the other hand, am apparently not smart, since I’m still doing this. Elminster is now alone with Naeryndam. “Come, Prince Elminster,” the old mage said dryly. “The impressionable young ladies of this House are not for thee. Though ’tis to thy credit that thou’re not disgusted when faced with folk of other races than thine own. Many of my kin are not so large of mind and heart, and so there is danger for thee here.” He held out his winking sword, hilt first. “Carry my blade, will thou?” *rolling her eyes* Oh, at least Elminster’s not screamingly racist – how noble of him. Elminster takes the sword and takes a moment to admire it lovingly – oh, my – and apparently it contains enchantments that will make sure Elminster stays close to Naeryndam, and to prevent him from spying on Cormanthor’s secret defenses. Elminster tells him it’s not necessary, but Naeryndam thinks that if he doesn’t, other elves might take matters into their own hands. Of course, Elminster – the total stranger – not being trustworthy isn’t the issue at all. Naeryndam then teleports them both into a garden. Beneath their feet two paths of soft, lush moss met beside the statue of a large, winged panther that glowed a vivid blue in the night. Will o’wisps danced and drifted here and there above the beautiful plants around them, swaying above luminous night-flowers to the accompaniment of faint strains of unseen harps. For once, it’s actually restrained. I’m rather impressed. Naeryndam says it’s the Coronal’s garden, and then a spirit appears before them. Blue-white it glowed, all sleek nude curves and long flowing hair, but its eyes were two dark holes against the stars as it said in their minds, Who comes? And, of course, even the spirit is naked and apparently beautiful. I consider myself rather… broad-minded about such things, but I must say I prefer to restrict my attentions to the living.
The creature is apparently a watchnorn, whatever that may be. Naeryndam identifies himself and Elminster; he describes how Elminster brought the kiira, and that he’s here to see the Coronal. The watchnorn is intrigued, and asks Elminster to identify himself. “I did not want to insult a lady,” El said carefully, “and know not how to properly address thee. Yet I think now we are well met.” He threw back one booted foot and sketched a sweeping bow. “I am Elminster, of the land of Athalantar. Who art thou, Lady of Moonlight?” And so, it seems the watchnorn is a woman… and Elminster is, apparently, flirting with her. Because whyever not? Wonder upon wonder, the ghostly thing said, brightening. A mortal who desires to know my name. I like that “Lady of Moonlight” you entitle me; it is fair upon the ears. Yet know, man called Elminster, that I was in life Braerindra of the House of Calauth, last of my House. And the ghost apparently falls for it. Why am I not surprised? I also don’t think she’s very good at her job, if she’s so easily flattered… Elminster tells her that her house still stands and isn’t forgotten while she exists, and she explains that as a ghost she is feared and shunned by Cormanthor’s living inhabitants, and… why are we having this conversation? Weren’t you here to examine Elminster, not the other way around? Elminster promises he won’t forget her, and he’ll come and talk with her if he can. She says she never thought to hear such a promise from a human, and then she kisses him on the cheek. She thanks Naeryndam for bringing him to her and grants them passage to the Coronal. Naeryndam is impressed by Elminster’s “compassion” (again, it seemed more like flirtation to me) but, ha, ha, Elminster can barely speak, because he’s so cold from the watchnorn’s kiss! Well, it would be impolite for a lady to mention he brought it on himself… but I think I’ll do it anyway. Naeryndam assures him that if she’d wanted to, she could have drained his life with that kiss; that she didn’t means she gave him her blessing, and now he’s completely immune to the chill touch of all undead in Cormanthor forever! All that from one kiss! *she shakes her head* Then again, he owes his powers to having public sex with his goddess… I suppose this is tame in comparison.
Mira: Elminster comments that human lives must seem short to the elves, and Naeryndam admits they do – but right now, Elminster has bigger issues to worry about, since he’s about to meet the Coronal, and Naeryndam wants him to speak as fairly to him as he did with the watchnorn. Is Elminster supposed to flirt with the Coronal too? That might actually be more interesting than what I’m sure we’ll actually get… Elminster asks if he should kneel to the Coronal, and Naeryndam tells him to watch his face (but not, I’ll note, what to watch for…). An elf sat on nothing at the center of the paved space, with an open book, a tray of tall, thin bottles, and a footrest floating in the air around him. Two cloaked elves who wore power as if it crowned them stood on either side of him; at the sight of the human they glided swiftly forward to bar Elminster’s path to the Coronal, slowing only slightly at the sight of Naeryndam Alastrarra behind the human. One of the mages asks if Elminster is the one who made it past the watchnorns, and if Naeryndam has brought him here for punishment (if only!). Naeryndam greets the mage as Earynspeir and tells him that Elminster is here to face the judgment of the coronal; the other mage says that no human has a right under their law to be so judged, since only elves and “elf-kin” (would that include me? Hypothetically?) can be citizens of Cormanthor. Naeryndam tells them that Elminster has worn a kiira, of his own house – finally, the Coronal has had enough, and tells Naeryndam to bring Elminster to him so he can judge him. Elminster steps forward – and one of the mages casts a battle spell at him, which Naeryndam deflects. Then the other mage does so to, and my, they must be more bigoted than I realized, to attack Elminster against the clear wishes of their Coronal! Elminster quickly kneels, so the spell passes harmlessly over him and the Coronal dispels it. He tells his mages to stand down, then meets Elminster’s gaze. El’s mouth was suddenly dry. The eyes of the elven king were like holes opening into the night sky. Stars swam and twinkled in their depths, and one could fall into those dark pools and be dragged down, down, and away … That certainly sounds… distressing, doesn’t it?
Finally, Elminster shakes it off, which stuns the mages since apparently even they can’t resist the Coronal’s will mind-to-mind… but Elminster can, of course. Elminster rises, but when the Coronal asks if he still means to resist him, he says he doesn’t – the Coronal is welcome to all his thoughts. So, all that was for show, then? Why am I not surprised? The Coronal says he meant to keep Elminster on his knees, to master your will, which sounds… remarkably sinister. He wonders if someone else is working through Elminster… hmmm, I think we all know who that would be! Earynspeir says this proves Elminster’s dangerous, and the Coronal agrees to let the mages hold him down while he fetches a scepter which he says will reveal the truth. The “scepter” proves to be a glass rod – which sounds more like a wand to me – and the Coronal points it at Elminster’s forehead. A great coldness crashed through the Athalantan, shaking him to his very fingertips. As he quivered there in midair he could hear the clatter of his teeth chattering uncontrollably, and then gasps of amazement from all four elves. “What is it?” he tried to say, but all that came out through his frozen lips was a confused gurgling. Abruptly he found that his mouth was freed, and that he was turning—being turned—in the air, around to face a ghostly image that was towering over the patio. The spectral outlines of a face he knew. The Coronal asks if that’s who he thinks it is, and Elminster says it is – it’s Mystra. I am her servant. Ah, but of course! The Coronal admits he suspected that, and then he and Elminster vanish, leaving the three mages standing alone in the garden. Mystra’s face also vanishes, But what made the elf-mages cower and stammer out the names of their gods was the way the beautiful female face looked at each of them in turn, as a broad and satisfied smile grew across it. Which just makes it seem like Mystra is rubbing this in the faces of the elven gods, come to think… Earynspeir thinks it must be some trick of Elminster’s, but then That vast smile had suddenly reappeared. There was no face around it this time, but all three mages knew what it was. They would see it in their memories until their dying days. The mages all turn to flee as the chapter ends, but before Mystra’s smile fades, all the watchnorns appear in the gardens to watch it. *she sighs* Mystra seems to be enjoying this far too much… but is it too much to hope that the watchnorns are there to make certain she doesn’t get up to any mischief? If they were proper guardian spirits, it would be!
MG: Alas, this is a Greenwood book, so you can tell how much we’re supposed to like a character by how much they love Elminster and/or Mystra. It’s a rather depressing pattern. And I must say, nobody comes out of this chapter looking good. The Alastrarras and the Coronal’s mages are so horribly racist they can barely even stand to be in the same room as a human without attacking, while the Coronal and Naeryndam are patting themselves on the back for their bare minimum of decency in not doing that; Elminster, meanwhile, is completely unconcerned with the chaos his presence is calling, and entirely relies on Mystra to get him out of trouble at the end. Honestly, I have to wonder if Greenwood made all the elves so racist because it was the only way Elminster would come across looking good in comparison. Anyway, that chapter is now over and done with, and it’s mostly just served to reinforce how Elminster is special… and also that I’m really starting to hate everyone in Cormanthor, who are all either racist, incompetent, or both (spoiler warning, this will be continuing). And as for Elminster supposedly “joining” the Alastrarras… yeah, this is the last time we’ll be seeing most of them. Wasn’t that ordeal just so important to go through? Anyway, next time Elminster finds himself in a new situation, and makes a new friend. We’ll see you then!
I’ve also recently resumed my reread and commentary on the (in)famous epic Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfic Embers which can be found here if you’re interested!
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Elminster in Myth Drannor! Last time, Elminster reached Cormanthor, wandered around the city, and went to House Alastrarra without telling anyone he wasn’t Iymbryl, with the result that a lot of chaos ensued and at least one person died before he passed the kiira on to Ornthalas. Really. Today, it’s time to meet the coronal! Joining us once again will be Calassara and Mira!
Chapter Five: To Call on the Coronal
Calassara: Well, I can only suppose this chapter is better than the last one… or perhaps I expect too much of Greenwood who has, alas, disappointed me before… Anyway, our opening quote today is from The High History of Faerunian Archmges Mighty (we really are only using the two sources, aren’t we?). And so it befell that Elminster of Athalantar found the elven family he had so inadvertently joined and did that which he was sworn to do. Like many who fulfill an unusual and dangerous duty, he received scant thanks for it. Had it not been for the grace of Mystra, he might easily have died in the Coronal’s garden that night. *flatly* Joined. Yes, I suppose that is one way to put it… not a particularly accurate way, alas… and honestly, while the Alastrarras did not seem a particularly pleasant lot (I know their type well, more’s the pity) I can fully understand why they wouldn’t be feeling particularly grateful towards Elminster at the moment! And so, the chapter proper opens with Ornthalas as, well… Ornthalas Alastrarra stumbled across the chamber, clutching his head and screaming, his voice raw and ugly. Crackling lightnings of magic trailed from the gem that shone like a new star upon his brow, back to the one from whom it had come: the sprawled body on the floor, so young, and ugly—and human. Savored Sting, that artifact tortures you even when you’re the intended recipient! …nothing wrong with that, if you’re into it (and I’ll admit I’ve… sampled), but you should have the option to give your consent first! Did anyone even tell Ornthalas what would happen to him, or is he just as lost as Elminster? Meanwhile, the house guards desperately try to pierce a magical barrier around the room to assist Ornthalas, to no avail. again. Under their high-booted feet Melarue lay sprawled, her hair outflung like a fan around her, stunned from her own attempt to burst through Naeryndam’s barrier. She’d forgotten the manyfold enchantments upon her jewelry. Oh dear. Someone really should move her… before she gets stepped on…
Lady Namyriitha is standing back, trying to unravel the barrier on her own; meanwhile, Filaurel (and most of the other women, because clearly only women would be horrified at this sight *rolls her eyes*) is screaming at both the revelation of Elminster and… everything else. Meanwhile, Naeryndam has raised a scepter in one hand and a sword in the other; when the barrier comes down, he raises them both and starts blasting his own house guards into unconsciousness. Was simply ordering them to stay back not an option? Namyriitha demands to know why her brother is doing this (I’d like to know that, too…) and he tells her to stay back while he tends to Elminster. The only sounds that followed their rolling, imperious thunder were faint groans from where Ornthalas lay in a corner, his head against the wall, and sobbings here and there where women who’d been screaming struggled to catch their breaths again. *rolling her eyes* Oh, yes, I do wonder why this family isn’t thanking Elminster for bringing all this down on them! “There’s entirely too much shouting and spellhurling in this House, these days,” Naeryndam observed, “and not nearly enough listening, caring, and thinking. In a few generations more, we’ll be as bad as the Starym.” Oh, I quite agree there’s not much listening, caring or thinking going on here… then again, I don’t think you’ve shown yourself to be a paragon of those qualities either, Naeryndam. But apparently even the others are shocked, since he just insulted the Starym, and the Starym are considered even by their enemies to be the greatest and noblest of all the houses of Cormanthor and, my, my, you’d think their matriarch trying to assassinate the coronal in the prologue might have changed that. Apparently not. Naeryndam releases a wave of fire as a warning (in a crowded room, that could go… rather catastrophically wrong) and tells everyone to listen to him. Including Ornthalas, who is now the heir of the house but is currently writhing on the floor moaning, and barely manages a nod in response. How generous of him.
Mira: *holding her scarf tightly* Well, this all seems… awful, doesn’t it? Anyway, Naeryndam says that Elminster was just following the law of Cormanthor, and yet everyone except for Filaurel – and Sheedra and Nanthleene, whoever they might be – attacked him. Well, he did kill their cousin… and evil or not, a cousin’s a cousin. I think. I don’t have any cousins myself; not that I’m aware of. But it doesn’t seem the sort of thing one lets go? Naeryndam tells the others they disgust him, that Elminster came through great dangers to deliver the kiira, and their house has an heir and their knowledge isn’t lost because of him. He also could have avoided all this by asking for Ornthalas as soon as he reached the house, I must say… Namyriitha tries to interrupt, but Naeryndam tells her she listens even worse than the younger generation. Had the moment been less important, the air less full of tension and awe, the gathered House might have enjoyed the sight of the sharp-tongued matriarch opening and closing her mouth like a gasping fish in silence, as her face flooded crimson and purple. No one, though, so much as looked at her; their eyes were all on Naeryndam, the oldest living Alastrarran. …why do I get the feeling Greenwood is enjoying this a little too much? So, Naeryndam claims that Elminster followed the law, and the law is the law – no one in Hollowfaust would disagree there; we have our laws for a reason – and the only thing that separates the elves from humans or hobgoblins. And somehow even when coming to a human’s defense, he still manages to be racist? That’s kind of impressive, in an awful way. At this, Elminster stirs. One of the guards throws a knife at him, but Naeryndam deflects it and calls them all bad listeners again. This time, I have to agree with him.
Namyriitha argues that the Alastrarras will be forever dishonored if it’s known they “harbored” a human, and Melarue – apparently the poor girl didn’t get stepped on after all – agrees. Naeryndam then asks Ornthalas, as the new bearer of the family kiira, what their ancestors would say about this. He stumbles to his feet, memories that were not his own playing in his head, which sounds very disturbing – and gives his answer. “Prudence bids us conduct the human to the Coronal, that no stain be upon us.” He looked from one Alastrarran to another. “Yet if we harm so much as a hair upon his head, our honor is bereft. This man has done us more service than any elf living, save you, noble Naeryndam.” And so Elminster is spared, I suppose. Naeryndam comments that Ornthalas has worn the kiira for moments and already gained good sense, which… would be a lot more impactful if I knew what he was like before? Ornthalas agrees with his uncle and calls his sisters to join him in singing mourning songs for Iymbryl. Can… can I listen in? That sounds fascinating – certainly much more so than anything else in this book! And as my guild is often called to officiate at funerals, I know a number of laments myself… perhaps Ornthalas would like to hear? *she flushes* And yes, I am stalling, why do you ask? The siblings leave the room, but before Filaurel goes, she asks Elminster’s name, and he introduces himself. He then tells Naeryndam he’s in his debt and asks to be taken to the Coronal. Namyriitha agrees - she wants that out of her house immediately. Hmmm; Elminster is careless, the Alastrarras are racist – I don’t think I like any of these people, except maybe Filaurel! Meanwhile, Nanthleene, one of the younger women, is staring openly at Elminster’s strange human appearance; he winks back, because of course. That brought gasps of outrage from both Lady Namyriitha and Sheedra, the mother of Nanthleene, who snatched at her daughter’s hand, and practically dragged her from the chamber. If I had a daughter – and was old enough to have one that age - I’d want to keep her away from Elminster, too – as things actually are, I think I’ll just stay far, far away from him myself!
Calassara: Smart girl. I, on the other hand, am apparently not smart, since I’m still doing this. Elminster is now alone with Naeryndam. “Come, Prince Elminster,” the old mage said dryly. “The impressionable young ladies of this House are not for thee. Though ’tis to thy credit that thou’re not disgusted when faced with folk of other races than thine own. Many of my kin are not so large of mind and heart, and so there is danger for thee here.” He held out his winking sword, hilt first. “Carry my blade, will thou?” *rolling her eyes* Oh, at least Elminster’s not screamingly racist – how noble of him. Elminster takes the sword and takes a moment to admire it lovingly – oh, my – and apparently it contains enchantments that will make sure Elminster stays close to Naeryndam, and to prevent him from spying on Cormanthor’s secret defenses. Elminster tells him it’s not necessary, but Naeryndam thinks that if he doesn’t, other elves might take matters into their own hands. Of course, Elminster – the total stranger – not being trustworthy isn’t the issue at all. Naeryndam then teleports them both into a garden. Beneath their feet two paths of soft, lush moss met beside the statue of a large, winged panther that glowed a vivid blue in the night. Will o’wisps danced and drifted here and there above the beautiful plants around them, swaying above luminous night-flowers to the accompaniment of faint strains of unseen harps. For once, it’s actually restrained. I’m rather impressed. Naeryndam says it’s the Coronal’s garden, and then a spirit appears before them. Blue-white it glowed, all sleek nude curves and long flowing hair, but its eyes were two dark holes against the stars as it said in their minds, Who comes? And, of course, even the spirit is naked and apparently beautiful. I consider myself rather… broad-minded about such things, but I must say I prefer to restrict my attentions to the living.
The creature is apparently a watchnorn, whatever that may be. Naeryndam identifies himself and Elminster; he describes how Elminster brought the kiira, and that he’s here to see the Coronal. The watchnorn is intrigued, and asks Elminster to identify himself. “I did not want to insult a lady,” El said carefully, “and know not how to properly address thee. Yet I think now we are well met.” He threw back one booted foot and sketched a sweeping bow. “I am Elminster, of the land of Athalantar. Who art thou, Lady of Moonlight?” And so, it seems the watchnorn is a woman… and Elminster is, apparently, flirting with her. Because whyever not? Wonder upon wonder, the ghostly thing said, brightening. A mortal who desires to know my name. I like that “Lady of Moonlight” you entitle me; it is fair upon the ears. Yet know, man called Elminster, that I was in life Braerindra of the House of Calauth, last of my House. And the ghost apparently falls for it. Why am I not surprised? I also don’t think she’s very good at her job, if she’s so easily flattered… Elminster tells her that her house still stands and isn’t forgotten while she exists, and she explains that as a ghost she is feared and shunned by Cormanthor’s living inhabitants, and… why are we having this conversation? Weren’t you here to examine Elminster, not the other way around? Elminster promises he won’t forget her, and he’ll come and talk with her if he can. She says she never thought to hear such a promise from a human, and then she kisses him on the cheek. She thanks Naeryndam for bringing him to her and grants them passage to the Coronal. Naeryndam is impressed by Elminster’s “compassion” (again, it seemed more like flirtation to me) but, ha, ha, Elminster can barely speak, because he’s so cold from the watchnorn’s kiss! Well, it would be impolite for a lady to mention he brought it on himself… but I think I’ll do it anyway. Naeryndam assures him that if she’d wanted to, she could have drained his life with that kiss; that she didn’t means she gave him her blessing, and now he’s completely immune to the chill touch of all undead in Cormanthor forever! All that from one kiss! *she shakes her head* Then again, he owes his powers to having public sex with his goddess… I suppose this is tame in comparison.
Mira: Elminster comments that human lives must seem short to the elves, and Naeryndam admits they do – but right now, Elminster has bigger issues to worry about, since he’s about to meet the Coronal, and Naeryndam wants him to speak as fairly to him as he did with the watchnorn. Is Elminster supposed to flirt with the Coronal too? That might actually be more interesting than what I’m sure we’ll actually get… Elminster asks if he should kneel to the Coronal, and Naeryndam tells him to watch his face (but not, I’ll note, what to watch for…). An elf sat on nothing at the center of the paved space, with an open book, a tray of tall, thin bottles, and a footrest floating in the air around him. Two cloaked elves who wore power as if it crowned them stood on either side of him; at the sight of the human they glided swiftly forward to bar Elminster’s path to the Coronal, slowing only slightly at the sight of Naeryndam Alastrarra behind the human. One of the mages asks if Elminster is the one who made it past the watchnorns, and if Naeryndam has brought him here for punishment (if only!). Naeryndam greets the mage as Earynspeir and tells him that Elminster is here to face the judgment of the coronal; the other mage says that no human has a right under their law to be so judged, since only elves and “elf-kin” (would that include me? Hypothetically?) can be citizens of Cormanthor. Naeryndam tells them that Elminster has worn a kiira, of his own house – finally, the Coronal has had enough, and tells Naeryndam to bring Elminster to him so he can judge him. Elminster steps forward – and one of the mages casts a battle spell at him, which Naeryndam deflects. Then the other mage does so to, and my, they must be more bigoted than I realized, to attack Elminster against the clear wishes of their Coronal! Elminster quickly kneels, so the spell passes harmlessly over him and the Coronal dispels it. He tells his mages to stand down, then meets Elminster’s gaze. El’s mouth was suddenly dry. The eyes of the elven king were like holes opening into the night sky. Stars swam and twinkled in their depths, and one could fall into those dark pools and be dragged down, down, and away … That certainly sounds… distressing, doesn’t it?
Finally, Elminster shakes it off, which stuns the mages since apparently even they can’t resist the Coronal’s will mind-to-mind… but Elminster can, of course. Elminster rises, but when the Coronal asks if he still means to resist him, he says he doesn’t – the Coronal is welcome to all his thoughts. So, all that was for show, then? Why am I not surprised? The Coronal says he meant to keep Elminster on his knees, to master your will, which sounds… remarkably sinister. He wonders if someone else is working through Elminster… hmmm, I think we all know who that would be! Earynspeir says this proves Elminster’s dangerous, and the Coronal agrees to let the mages hold him down while he fetches a scepter which he says will reveal the truth. The “scepter” proves to be a glass rod – which sounds more like a wand to me – and the Coronal points it at Elminster’s forehead. A great coldness crashed through the Athalantan, shaking him to his very fingertips. As he quivered there in midair he could hear the clatter of his teeth chattering uncontrollably, and then gasps of amazement from all four elves. “What is it?” he tried to say, but all that came out through his frozen lips was a confused gurgling. Abruptly he found that his mouth was freed, and that he was turning—being turned—in the air, around to face a ghostly image that was towering over the patio. The spectral outlines of a face he knew. The Coronal asks if that’s who he thinks it is, and Elminster says it is – it’s Mystra. I am her servant. Ah, but of course! The Coronal admits he suspected that, and then he and Elminster vanish, leaving the three mages standing alone in the garden. Mystra’s face also vanishes, But what made the elf-mages cower and stammer out the names of their gods was the way the beautiful female face looked at each of them in turn, as a broad and satisfied smile grew across it. Which just makes it seem like Mystra is rubbing this in the faces of the elven gods, come to think… Earynspeir thinks it must be some trick of Elminster’s, but then That vast smile had suddenly reappeared. There was no face around it this time, but all three mages knew what it was. They would see it in their memories until their dying days. The mages all turn to flee as the chapter ends, but before Mystra’s smile fades, all the watchnorns appear in the gardens to watch it. *she sighs* Mystra seems to be enjoying this far too much… but is it too much to hope that the watchnorns are there to make certain she doesn’t get up to any mischief? If they were proper guardian spirits, it would be!
MG: Alas, this is a Greenwood book, so you can tell how much we’re supposed to like a character by how much they love Elminster and/or Mystra. It’s a rather depressing pattern. And I must say, nobody comes out of this chapter looking good. The Alastrarras and the Coronal’s mages are so horribly racist they can barely even stand to be in the same room as a human without attacking, while the Coronal and Naeryndam are patting themselves on the back for their bare minimum of decency in not doing that; Elminster, meanwhile, is completely unconcerned with the chaos his presence is calling, and entirely relies on Mystra to get him out of trouble at the end. Honestly, I have to wonder if Greenwood made all the elves so racist because it was the only way Elminster would come across looking good in comparison. Anyway, that chapter is now over and done with, and it’s mostly just served to reinforce how Elminster is special… and also that I’m really starting to hate everyone in Cormanthor, who are all either racist, incompetent, or both (spoiler warning, this will be continuing). And as for Elminster supposedly “joining” the Alastrarras… yeah, this is the last time we’ll be seeing most of them. Wasn’t that ordeal just so important to go through? Anyway, next time Elminster finds himself in a new situation, and makes a new friend. We’ll see you then!
I’ve also recently resumed my reread and commentary on the (in)famous epic Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfic Embers which can be found here if you’re interested!