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masterghandalfThis 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 met the coronal, got his ass kissed by various characters, and had Mystra drop a bit of divine intervention on his behalf. Today, Elminster receives an assignment and makes an important friend. Joining us once again will be Calassara and Mira!
Chapter Six: The Vault of Ages
Calassara: Well, the chapter title sounds intriguing, at least? I wonder how long it will take for Greenwood to ruin it… We open with a quote, and, as we appear to not only have only two sources but to be doing them on rotation, it’s from the gossip rag. Delightful. Beneath the fair city of Cormanthor, in some hidden place, lies the Vault of Ages, sacred storehouse of the lore of our People. ‘Let Mythal rise and Myth Drannor fall,’ says one ballad, “and still the Vault remembreth all.” Some say the Vault lies there yet, unplundered and as splendid as before, though few now know the way to it. Some say ’tis the Srinshee’s tomb. Some say she has become a terrible mad thing of clawing magics, and has made the Vault her lair. And there are even some who admit that they do not know. Can… can I go to the Vault of Ages, please? Preferably when Elminster isn’t there? It sounds fascinating, but I don’t want to share with him… Also, admitting you don’t know may be honest, but it makes for a boring story. Though it’s always best to distinguish between what you know personally, and when you’re merely repeating tales you’ve heard… also, that sample of a ballad isn’t the worst bit of poetry we’ve gotten from Greenwood, but I still can’t say I’m overly fond of it.
MG: The Srinshee, by the way, is the major new character we’ll be meeting this chapter. Just for the record.
Calassara: Useful to know. And so, we open with the Coronal teleporting Elminster, picking up from where they both vanished last time. The white-robed elven ruler stood with him, in a cool, damp stone room whose ceiling arched low overhead. Luminous crystals were set in the places where the crisscrossing stone ribs of its vaults met, one with the next. Elminster notices that they’re in the middle of what appears to be a network of domed chambers and passages between them. A narrow, winding path had been left clear down the center of each passage, but all of the rest of the space was crammed with treasure: a spreading sea of gold coins and bars and statuary, holding in its frozen waves ivory coffers that spilled pearls and rainbows of glittering gems. Chests were stacked six high along the walls, and chased and worked metal banner-poles leaned against them like fallen trees. Nearer at hand, a dragon as tall as Elminster, carved from a single gigantic emerald, leaned amid the branches of a tree of solid sardonyx; its leaves were of electrum covered with tiny cut gems. The prince of Athalantar turned slowly on his heel to survey this treasure, trying to look expressionless and very much aware that the Coronal was watching his face. There were more riches here, in this one chamber, than he’d ever seen before in all his life. The wealth here was truly staggering. The entire treasury of Athalantar was outshone by what would lie beneath him, were he to simply fall on his face in the nearest heap of coins. Right by his foot gleamed a cut ruby as large as his head. *her black eyes wide and glittering* Oh, oh my… what I wouldn’t give to have access to even a tithe of that… for research purposes of course… though a girl does have to eat… *shaking her head* Anyway, where was I? Elminster wants to know what this place is, and why this treasure is buried underground. The Coronal explains that elves dislike gems and metal (beg pardon, but has Ed Greenwood ever met an elf? My people are known for many qualities, but a dislike of shiny, pretty valuable things isn’t among them!) and only keep those around them that bear immediately useful magics. Most elven treasures end up being stored in vaults when not in use – and this is the Vault of Ages, the city’s main vault, which is overseen by the Coronal directly, and is, thus, the largest. *she sighs wistfully* Oh, I could show you some uses for all of that…
Mira: *disapproving* Material wealth is transitory – we all end up in the same place, and we can’t take it with us! Though I must say, there might be restless spirits attached to a place like this, drawn by items that were important to them in life… I must investigate further! The Coronal explains that the Vault isn’t named for how long it’s been storing wealth, but for the age of the person who guards it all. He gestures, and Elminster notices a short figure, thin as a post. A very graceful post, swaying as it came toward them. An… interesting simile. In my experience, posts aren’t known for being graceful… or for moving at all… The Coronal suddenly tells Elminster to look at him. When Elminster turned, he found himself looking into the full, awakened might of the ruler of Cormanthor. Once again his boots rose helplessly from the floor, and he hung in the air above the old elf as irresistable probes raced through him, calling up memories of a ferny dell, his spellbook left behind, Iymbryl gasping, and a certain scepter. The Coronal’s probing reaches back to Elminster’s time in Hastarl… at which point Mystra’s face appears in his mind, blocking any further inquiry. And of course, Elminster is once again saved by literal divine intervention. Both the Coronal and Elminster are tossed to the floor by Mystra’s presence, and When he looked up, he found himself staring into the tiny, shrunken face of the oldest elf he’d ever seen. Her long silver-white hair brushed the tiles below her slippered feet—feet that trod air, inches above the smooth-worn paving stones underfoot—and her skin seemed draped over her bones … bones so petite and shapely that she looked exquisite rather than grotesque, despite the fact that except where her diaphanous gown intervened, El could almost see her skeleton. That… honestly reminds me of some of my teachers; it’s rather nostalgic. Though I can’t help but notice that Elminster seems to be ogling even this very elderly, presumably very frail woman. Should someone stop him?
MG: *chuckles knowingly* Anyway, I will say that the description of the Srinshee’s hair (that’s who this is, if you hadn’t already guessed) just puts me in mind of another book series I’ve read, where one of the main characters has ankle-length hair – and it’s explicitly noted that this fact alone makes it obvious that she’s a noble, because nobody who actually had to work for a living could deal with such an impractical hairstyle. Just… where my mind went.
Mira: *fiddling idly with her own hair* I think I’ll keep mine rather short, if you don’t mind. That way it won’t catch on… things. The woman actually does reprimand Elminster for ogling her, though she seems more amused than offended caressing her hips and turning alluringly like a tavern dancer. Elminster admits he’s never seen an elf who looks so old (I think saying that seems rude?) and the Coronal introduces her as the Srinshee and says there are few elves as old as she is. The Coronal says that he’ll let the Srinshee share her story, but first he has to decide what to do with Elminster. He himself seems impressed with Elminster’s actions and thinks that his service to the Alastrarras (does that include killing their cousin, possibly another person, and wreaking havoc through their house before actually doing the errand he came to do?) has earned him the position of armathor, which is the elven equivalent to a human knighthood. *she sighs* Why am I not surprised? But the Coronal is worried about Mystra – he doesn’t know why she sent Elminster to Cormanthor or what she’s up to. Elminster says he’s just here to learn the rudiments of magic and that Mystra said he’d be needed; the Coronal doesn’t doubt that he believes it, but thinks Mystra may have deeper designs, and he has to be concerned with protecting Cormanthor. Hmmm, I’m not sure I like the Coronal – he seems rather unsettlingly free with the mind-reading, for instance – but his sense of duty is admirable, at least, and he’s also oneo f the only characters not rushing to fall over themselves praising Mystra? So, I suppose I do have to like him, at least a little. The Coronal says he doesn’t show every outsider the Vault of Ages, and the Srinshee agrees that humans may not understand elven ways, but that doesn’t make elves fools. The Coronal knows Elminster isn’t a physical threat, or he wouldn’t have risked bringing him into the Vault or the Srinshee’s presence; the Srinshee tells him to get to the point, reminding him that he’s a warrior, not a poet. Elminster is surprised, and apparently the Coronal did in my time down some orcs…“And a hundred thousand men or so, and a dragon or two,” the Srinshee put in. The Coronal waved a dismissive hand. Normally, I’d be impressed, but… he is a Greenwood character. I think I heard that Shandril had destroyed three dracoliches by the end of her first book (as well as one living dragon)? That skews the scale a bit...
Calassara: Well, the Coronal wonders how he can pass judgment if she keeps undermining his dignity (that is, I think, a prerogative of bards… and apparently mages). The Srinshee is unconcerned, so the Coronal issues his judgment. “Hear, then, the judgment of Cormanthor: that you remain in these vaults for a moon, and search and converse with their guardian as you will; she will feed you and see to your needs. Folk of the court, myself among them, will come for you at the end of that time, and bid you take but one thing out of these vaults to keep.” Elminster asks what the dangerous part of this is, and the Coronal says that if he makes what the court judges to be a poor choice in what to keep, he’ll be put to death. *shocked* I… suddenly find my own desire for the treasures of the Vault greatly lessened. And I fail to see how this tells the Coronal anything about Mystra’s plans, just Elminster’s character (which he’s already decided, for reasons that escape me, is satisfactory). The Coronal tells Elminster to choose well (I think he understood that already!) and then vanishes. Once he’s gone, the Srinshee tells Elminster that a moon is the same as a month (shocking, I know) and that she isn’t the Coronal’s mother, in case he was wondering. I… admit it hadn’t occurred to me. Elminster asks who she is, then, and she calls herself a counselor to coronals and the secret wisdom in the heart of the realm. *arching her eyebrow* I take it humility is not among the Srinshee’s admirable qualities, then? Elminster then asks if she really is wise, and she is both amused and impressed and says she isn’t; both she and Elminster laugh at that. Elminster tries to offer her a steadying hand, but she waves it away… apparently, she’s not as frail as she looks. Apparently the entire vault is lined with the bones of a deep-worm (presumably not the same thing as the common earthworm which, in my experience, lack bones) that tunneled up from the depths looking for precious metals to eat. The Srinshee killed it with a wave of her hand and can presumably do the same to Elminster if he gets out of line, though she doesn’t see that happening (lady… you might be surprised).
Elminster introduces himself, saying that he is a prince of Athalantar and is surprised she knows it. She asks after Uthgrael and isn’t surprised to learn he’s dead and calls him a man of vigor. Well, well. Am I to assume that Elminster’s grandfather and the Srinshee were *she raises her eyebrows suggestively* Elminster thinks so too, but the Srinshee corrects him that it was never like that (sadly… that might have been worth including in the gossip rag!). In those days, we amused ourselves by peering at the doings of humans. When we saw someone interesting—a bold warrior, say, or a grasping mageling—we’d show ourselves to him by moonlight, and then lead him on a merry chase through the woods. Some of those chases ended in broken necks; some of us let ourselves be caught. *stunned* I do believe that Elminster’s new best friend just admitted to leading humans to their deaths, for amusement. I mean, her name does sound a bit like “siren” so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, but still… is this really someone we’re supposed to like? I led Uthgrael through half the southern High Forest until he fell exhausted, at dawn. I did show myself to him once later, when he was wed, just to see his jaw drop. Well, that is somehow both less interesting and more disturbing than I was expecting; congratulations, Greenwood! You have actually impressed me… but maybe not in the way you wanted to. Elminster thinks it’s going to be a long month down here – the Srinshee wants to know what pranks he’s played (“pranks” is certainly a way of saying “murders” – I’ve played some tricks in my time, but I prefer they not be fatal). Elminster starts talking about his time in Hastarl, and oh, Savored Sting preserve us, he's going to tell her about the time he and Farl kidnapped Shandathe, stripped her naked and stuck her in a stranger’s bed, isn’t he? *she looks faintly ill* I do have standards, you know! Luckily, the scene cuts off here.
MG: Anyway, yes, I find it very hard to read this passage as anything but proof that Elminster’s new best friend is (or used to be) a serial killer, and Elminster’s own grandfather was almost one of her victims. Fun! Which also reminds me of a bizarre bit in the Shadow of the Avatar books, where one of that series’ major characters is a Harper agent who offhandedly admits to sometimes having uncontrollable homicidal urges… and everyone else treats this as a mildly interesting quirk at most, and it’s never actually relevant to the story. Greenwood… why?
Mira: …it would seem to me to be one of those questions best not answered. We cut to some point later, as Elminster is exhausted from talking for so long. The Srinshee conjures food; Elminster wonders where it came from, and she just says “magic.” As if that were not entirely obvious. Oh, and since his hands were already full, she conjures a glass onto the top of his head. *confused* Ha… ha? Elminster, at least, thinks it’s hilarious and starts laughing uproariously, only to slip and fall when he leans against a pile of coins. Elminster doesn’t want coins and has nothing to buy with them anyway. Instead, he wants to know about the Srinshee. “So what brings an elven sorceress who can advise Coronals and blow away deep-worms and lead crowned kings on wild wood chases to some vaults underground no one ever sees?” he asked, when he’d eaten all he could. She says it’s a sense of belonging. Elminster does not understand how she could find belonging among such cold and lifeless things, so she explains. “Pay heed, Elminster. This is what you need me for: to make the choice the Coronal charged you to, and win your life. This arm ring is all Cormanthor has left of Princess Elvandaruil, lost in the waves of the Fallen Stars three thousand summers ago, when her flight spell failed. It washed up on Ambral Isle when Waterdeep was yet unborn.” *subdued* That, at least, I can understand. The past has power over the present, even when we forget it… sometimes especially when we forget it. My guild know that well, alas…
MG: Also… I’m confused about something. We’re currently in the third century of the Dalereckoning (Faerun’s main calendar). The region that will become Waterdeep is inhabited by this point… but it’s far from the great city it will become, and the name “Waterdeep” won’t be coined until the tenth century DR – almost seven hundred years from now. At the moment, per the FRWiki’s timeline, the region that will become Waterdeep is a small town ruled by Halaster Blackcloak from his tower (before he moved into Undermountain) and is known as Blackcloak Hold. So, uh, literally all of this stuff is from “when Waterdeep was yet unborn” because Waterdeep as such hasn’t been born yet and won’t be for a long time. What in the Nine Hells, Srinshee and/or Greenwood?
Mira: …I have no comment. Elminster picks up another object out of the pile of treasure and asks what it is. “The pectoral of Chathanglas Siltral, who styled himself Lord of the Rivers And Bays before the founding of your realm of Cormyr. He unwittingly took to wife a shapechanger, and the monstrous descendants of their offspring lurk yet, tentacled and deadly, in the waterways of Marsember and what humans call the Vast Swamp.” Hmmm; a tentacled shapechanger… that sounds rather familiar… *she recalls the ending of the previous book* Anyway, Elminster asks the Srinshee if she knows the history of every item in the vault, and she does. She says that she has to do something with her long life, and, I suppose, that’s better than some alternatives. Elminster is confused, since the Srinshee can’t be related to every elf who owned everything in the vault (is… that a requirement for learning about them?) and wonders what she feels she belongs to. “To the realm of my kin, and others of the People,” the sorceress said calmly. “I am Oluevaera Estelda, the last of my line. Yet I rise above the family rivalries of House against House, and consider all Cormanthans my kin. It gives me a reason for having lived so long, and another to go on living, after those I first loved are gone.” Elminster asks how lonely it is, and the Srinshee says he sees far, for a human, and she wishes that the Coronal’s judgment wasn’t hanging over him. Elminster says he’d rather not be here either, so the Srinshee points to a nearby sword and asks him to get it, and the scene ends as she says she’ll tell him about it.
MG: And yes, I’m pretty sure that bit about a “tentacled shapeshifter” is indeed a reference to the Malaugrym, and iirc it’s the only such reference in the book (save perhaps for one confusing bit much later, which might be a red herring or might just be Greenwood being thoughtless in his choice of words).
Calassara: *rolling her eyes* Greenwood being thoughtless – what a surprise! We cut to Elminster and the Srinshee later that evening as they discuss drinks, and when they’re done, Elminster digs out what else but a breastplate… It was fashioned of a single piece of copper as thick as his thumb, and sculpted into a pair of fine female breasts with a snarling lion’s jaws below them. I’m not certain, but I have a slight suspicion that’s meant to be suggestive – anyway, the Srinshee asks Elminster if he ever needs to sleep, and he says he doesn’t, as a gift from Mystra. Elminster starts examining the breastplate, of course, and then The bust of the long-lost Queen Eldratha of the vanished elven realm of Larlotha was of solid marble, and as tall as the length of Elminster’s arm. It came flying at him at just the right angle, and struck him almost gently behind his right ear. He never even knew it had hit him. And so Elminster has been knocked out! Thank you, o wise Srinshee – if you weren’t a murderer, I’d hug you. I’m considering it anyway. Unfortunately, we cut to Elminster waking up (albeit with a splitting headache – I’ll take what I can get). He sits up slowly, realizes he’s still in the Vault of Ages until the Coronal is ready to judge him, and calls out for the Srinshee. The old sorceress was lying spreadeagled on a heap of treasure, her gown in tatters and smoke rising lazily from her body. A body, largely bared now, that featured many wrinkles and age-spots, but seemed unmarked by recent violence. El crawled toward her, holding his head. She reveals that she attacked Elminster and paid the price – she apologizes, since she did what she did for the good of Cormanthor, and she chose wrongly (I beg to differ…). Apparently, the Srinshee was supposed to wait until Elminster slept and learn what she could from his sleeping mind, but when it turned out he didn’t need to sleep, she took matters into her own hands and hit him with the bust. To apologize, she heals his headache (boo…) and explains that when she tried to read his mind, “Mystra was waiting for me, just as she waited for the Coronal,” the Srinshee told him with the ghost of a smile on her lips. “She cares for you, young man. She thrust me right out of your mind, and told me she’d placed a spell in your mind that could blast me to dust.” And once again, literal divine intervention saves the day!
This makes Elminster realize he’s all out of his own prepared spells, and he’ll need new ones to survive for long in Cormanthor. But he realizes he has at least one spell that Mytsra left for him and he can activate of his own will, not just as a reflex. A deadly magic he’d never known before—so mighty, and so simple. One touch, and elven blood would boil in the body he’d chosen, melting it to dust in a few breaths regardless of armor and defensive magics, and … He shivered. That was a slaying spell. A needlessly gruesome one at that… though I’ll freely admit I’m not an impartial party here. And why does it apparently only target elves? Surely it would be easier to make a spell that worked on everybody? He’s suddenly drawn out of his thoughts as he realizes the Srinshee has bared her breasts and placed his hand over her heart. If he wants to kill her, she’ll let him. So… this woman is choosing the human she’s known for what, a day, over the realm she’s served for literally millennia? Excuse me? *she shakes her head* He’s not worth it, my lady – Calistria’s Sting, you must’ve been lonelier than I thought! Elminster pulls his hand away, and tells her that the Coronal wouldn’t be happy with him if he did that. “That’s the trouble with ye tragic types—no thought for what happens next!” *flatly* Very selfless, that Elminster. Fortunately for him, the Srinshee is amused rather than angry, and then starts crying – whether from joy, relief, sorrow or some combination of the above, I’m not sure. He tells her she promised him nightglade tea, and she bursts into a mix of laughter and sobs. El dragged her up into his arms to comfort her, and found that it was like cradling a crying child. She weighed nothing. But she conjures two cups of the tea, and the scene ends.
Mira: And so, we cut to some later point, as Elminster has lost track of all the wonders in the Vault. The Srinshee – who calls him “El” now – tells him his time is running out, so his month must be almost up. She’s still showing him various artifacts and telling their stories, and finally says that there are about ten breaths left – maybe twenty, depending on how eager the Coronal is. My, that’s not a lot, is it? Elminster thinks it’s his death the court is eager for, and asks about another artifact. “A crystal through which one can see the course of waterflows through the realm, on the surface or underground; every handspan of their travel, clearly lit for your eye to see beaver dams, snags, and sources of foulness.” Elminster takes it, along with a sword that cuts darkness and various forms of the undead (that might come in handy in my line of work – can I have it? One should never call up what one can’t put down, after all…); the Srinshee is now wearing a jeweled gown he found for her somewhere in there and insisted she put on. Suddenly there’s a flash of light, and Elminster is surrounded by a ring of six elf sorceresses. They have scepters levelled at him, and the Srinshee pulls out a seventh. Two of the sorceresses part and the Coronal steps between them; Elminster greets him, and the Coronal asks him what thing he has chosen to take out of the Vault. Elminster says he’s made his choice… and puts the treasures down so he’s empty handed. The Coronal says that to take nothing is a coward’s choice (or perhaps a wise person’s, depending on the alternatives) but Elminster says he is taking something, the most precious thing in the Vault. The mages begin preparing spells at this, but Elminster ignores them as they scry him for hidden objects and turns to the Srinshee. The Coronal asks him what the most precious thing is, and he says “Friendship,” Elminster replied. “Shared regard, and my fondness for a wise and gracious lady.” That… does seem like a wise choice, and perhaps the cleanest way to thread the needle, I’ll admit. It might even be heartwarming, if only I liked either of you and had known the Srinshee longer than a chapter. He gives her a bow worthy of a king’s envoy, and after a moment she bows back. The Coronal tells him he chose wisely (of course!) and then he bows to Elminster too. “I am honored by your presence in this fairest of realms; you are welcome here, as deserving of residence as any of the People. Be one with Cormanthor.” The gathered sorceresses start chanting and Cormanthor shall be one with thee, which sounds like a ritual phrase; Elminster sees the Srinshee crying happy tears and kisses her cheeks, and then the Coronal teleports them all into a large hall full of elven lords. Amid the astonished faces of the Court of Cormanthor, all heard it ring clear: “And Cormanthor shall be one with thee.” And on that note, the chapter… and Part I… ends there.
MG: I have to say, the worst thing about this chapter is how rushed it feels. The entire thing hinges on the developing friendship between the Srinshee and Elminster, but we’ve only just met the Srinshee and they hit it off immediately, so it all feels kind of hollow (also, she’s potentially a retired serial killer, and I think that should be a bigger deal than it is?). The Srinshee betraying her duty to the Coronal to side with Elminster should be a big deal… but as it is, it’s just sort of… there. Similarly, the twist with what Elminster chooses to take from the Vault makes sense, but really feels like it needed to be developed better (and I’m still not sure what this tells the Coronal about Mystra’s plans). The Vault itself is a potentially interesting setting, but quickly turns into a laundry list of artifacts without much of the wonder it probably should have. As for the Srinshee herself, she’s a pretty big deal. She’s still around in the present of the setting, technically – though by that point she’s become a baelnorn (basically, the good-aligned, elf equivalent of a lich, usually created to be a guardian of something) and has mostly retreated from the outside world. She's also one of the very short list of mages Greenwood himself admits could take even the present Elminster in a fight – though given her friendship with him, as well as her solitary nature, it’s very unlikely that fight would ever happen (that seems to be a trend with people powerful enough to beat Elminster, isn’t it?). Anyway, we’ve finally reached the end of the book’s Part One, as Elminster has officially now made it to Cormanthor and been accepted into the city. *flatly* Yay. Next time, we kick off Part II – Armathor, as we see the elves of Cormanthor start reacting to this development (spoiler warning… most of them are not happy). 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 met the coronal, got his ass kissed by various characters, and had Mystra drop a bit of divine intervention on his behalf. Today, Elminster receives an assignment and makes an important friend. Joining us once again will be Calassara and Mira!
Chapter Six: The Vault of Ages
Calassara: Well, the chapter title sounds intriguing, at least? I wonder how long it will take for Greenwood to ruin it… We open with a quote, and, as we appear to not only have only two sources but to be doing them on rotation, it’s from the gossip rag. Delightful. Beneath the fair city of Cormanthor, in some hidden place, lies the Vault of Ages, sacred storehouse of the lore of our People. ‘Let Mythal rise and Myth Drannor fall,’ says one ballad, “and still the Vault remembreth all.” Some say the Vault lies there yet, unplundered and as splendid as before, though few now know the way to it. Some say ’tis the Srinshee’s tomb. Some say she has become a terrible mad thing of clawing magics, and has made the Vault her lair. And there are even some who admit that they do not know. Can… can I go to the Vault of Ages, please? Preferably when Elminster isn’t there? It sounds fascinating, but I don’t want to share with him… Also, admitting you don’t know may be honest, but it makes for a boring story. Though it’s always best to distinguish between what you know personally, and when you’re merely repeating tales you’ve heard… also, that sample of a ballad isn’t the worst bit of poetry we’ve gotten from Greenwood, but I still can’t say I’m overly fond of it.
MG: The Srinshee, by the way, is the major new character we’ll be meeting this chapter. Just for the record.
Calassara: Useful to know. And so, we open with the Coronal teleporting Elminster, picking up from where they both vanished last time. The white-robed elven ruler stood with him, in a cool, damp stone room whose ceiling arched low overhead. Luminous crystals were set in the places where the crisscrossing stone ribs of its vaults met, one with the next. Elminster notices that they’re in the middle of what appears to be a network of domed chambers and passages between them. A narrow, winding path had been left clear down the center of each passage, but all of the rest of the space was crammed with treasure: a spreading sea of gold coins and bars and statuary, holding in its frozen waves ivory coffers that spilled pearls and rainbows of glittering gems. Chests were stacked six high along the walls, and chased and worked metal banner-poles leaned against them like fallen trees. Nearer at hand, a dragon as tall as Elminster, carved from a single gigantic emerald, leaned amid the branches of a tree of solid sardonyx; its leaves were of electrum covered with tiny cut gems. The prince of Athalantar turned slowly on his heel to survey this treasure, trying to look expressionless and very much aware that the Coronal was watching his face. There were more riches here, in this one chamber, than he’d ever seen before in all his life. The wealth here was truly staggering. The entire treasury of Athalantar was outshone by what would lie beneath him, were he to simply fall on his face in the nearest heap of coins. Right by his foot gleamed a cut ruby as large as his head. *her black eyes wide and glittering* Oh, oh my… what I wouldn’t give to have access to even a tithe of that… for research purposes of course… though a girl does have to eat… *shaking her head* Anyway, where was I? Elminster wants to know what this place is, and why this treasure is buried underground. The Coronal explains that elves dislike gems and metal (beg pardon, but has Ed Greenwood ever met an elf? My people are known for many qualities, but a dislike of shiny, pretty valuable things isn’t among them!) and only keep those around them that bear immediately useful magics. Most elven treasures end up being stored in vaults when not in use – and this is the Vault of Ages, the city’s main vault, which is overseen by the Coronal directly, and is, thus, the largest. *she sighs wistfully* Oh, I could show you some uses for all of that…
Mira: *disapproving* Material wealth is transitory – we all end up in the same place, and we can’t take it with us! Though I must say, there might be restless spirits attached to a place like this, drawn by items that were important to them in life… I must investigate further! The Coronal explains that the Vault isn’t named for how long it’s been storing wealth, but for the age of the person who guards it all. He gestures, and Elminster notices a short figure, thin as a post. A very graceful post, swaying as it came toward them. An… interesting simile. In my experience, posts aren’t known for being graceful… or for moving at all… The Coronal suddenly tells Elminster to look at him. When Elminster turned, he found himself looking into the full, awakened might of the ruler of Cormanthor. Once again his boots rose helplessly from the floor, and he hung in the air above the old elf as irresistable probes raced through him, calling up memories of a ferny dell, his spellbook left behind, Iymbryl gasping, and a certain scepter. The Coronal’s probing reaches back to Elminster’s time in Hastarl… at which point Mystra’s face appears in his mind, blocking any further inquiry. And of course, Elminster is once again saved by literal divine intervention. Both the Coronal and Elminster are tossed to the floor by Mystra’s presence, and When he looked up, he found himself staring into the tiny, shrunken face of the oldest elf he’d ever seen. Her long silver-white hair brushed the tiles below her slippered feet—feet that trod air, inches above the smooth-worn paving stones underfoot—and her skin seemed draped over her bones … bones so petite and shapely that she looked exquisite rather than grotesque, despite the fact that except where her diaphanous gown intervened, El could almost see her skeleton. That… honestly reminds me of some of my teachers; it’s rather nostalgic. Though I can’t help but notice that Elminster seems to be ogling even this very elderly, presumably very frail woman. Should someone stop him?
MG: *chuckles knowingly* Anyway, I will say that the description of the Srinshee’s hair (that’s who this is, if you hadn’t already guessed) just puts me in mind of another book series I’ve read, where one of the main characters has ankle-length hair – and it’s explicitly noted that this fact alone makes it obvious that she’s a noble, because nobody who actually had to work for a living could deal with such an impractical hairstyle. Just… where my mind went.
Mira: *fiddling idly with her own hair* I think I’ll keep mine rather short, if you don’t mind. That way it won’t catch on… things. The woman actually does reprimand Elminster for ogling her, though she seems more amused than offended caressing her hips and turning alluringly like a tavern dancer. Elminster admits he’s never seen an elf who looks so old (I think saying that seems rude?) and the Coronal introduces her as the Srinshee and says there are few elves as old as she is. The Coronal says that he’ll let the Srinshee share her story, but first he has to decide what to do with Elminster. He himself seems impressed with Elminster’s actions and thinks that his service to the Alastrarras (does that include killing their cousin, possibly another person, and wreaking havoc through their house before actually doing the errand he came to do?) has earned him the position of armathor, which is the elven equivalent to a human knighthood. *she sighs* Why am I not surprised? But the Coronal is worried about Mystra – he doesn’t know why she sent Elminster to Cormanthor or what she’s up to. Elminster says he’s just here to learn the rudiments of magic and that Mystra said he’d be needed; the Coronal doesn’t doubt that he believes it, but thinks Mystra may have deeper designs, and he has to be concerned with protecting Cormanthor. Hmmm, I’m not sure I like the Coronal – he seems rather unsettlingly free with the mind-reading, for instance – but his sense of duty is admirable, at least, and he’s also oneo f the only characters not rushing to fall over themselves praising Mystra? So, I suppose I do have to like him, at least a little. The Coronal says he doesn’t show every outsider the Vault of Ages, and the Srinshee agrees that humans may not understand elven ways, but that doesn’t make elves fools. The Coronal knows Elminster isn’t a physical threat, or he wouldn’t have risked bringing him into the Vault or the Srinshee’s presence; the Srinshee tells him to get to the point, reminding him that he’s a warrior, not a poet. Elminster is surprised, and apparently the Coronal did in my time down some orcs…“And a hundred thousand men or so, and a dragon or two,” the Srinshee put in. The Coronal waved a dismissive hand. Normally, I’d be impressed, but… he is a Greenwood character. I think I heard that Shandril had destroyed three dracoliches by the end of her first book (as well as one living dragon)? That skews the scale a bit...
Calassara: Well, the Coronal wonders how he can pass judgment if she keeps undermining his dignity (that is, I think, a prerogative of bards… and apparently mages). The Srinshee is unconcerned, so the Coronal issues his judgment. “Hear, then, the judgment of Cormanthor: that you remain in these vaults for a moon, and search and converse with their guardian as you will; she will feed you and see to your needs. Folk of the court, myself among them, will come for you at the end of that time, and bid you take but one thing out of these vaults to keep.” Elminster asks what the dangerous part of this is, and the Coronal says that if he makes what the court judges to be a poor choice in what to keep, he’ll be put to death. *shocked* I… suddenly find my own desire for the treasures of the Vault greatly lessened. And I fail to see how this tells the Coronal anything about Mystra’s plans, just Elminster’s character (which he’s already decided, for reasons that escape me, is satisfactory). The Coronal tells Elminster to choose well (I think he understood that already!) and then vanishes. Once he’s gone, the Srinshee tells Elminster that a moon is the same as a month (shocking, I know) and that she isn’t the Coronal’s mother, in case he was wondering. I… admit it hadn’t occurred to me. Elminster asks who she is, then, and she calls herself a counselor to coronals and the secret wisdom in the heart of the realm. *arching her eyebrow* I take it humility is not among the Srinshee’s admirable qualities, then? Elminster then asks if she really is wise, and she is both amused and impressed and says she isn’t; both she and Elminster laugh at that. Elminster tries to offer her a steadying hand, but she waves it away… apparently, she’s not as frail as she looks. Apparently the entire vault is lined with the bones of a deep-worm (presumably not the same thing as the common earthworm which, in my experience, lack bones) that tunneled up from the depths looking for precious metals to eat. The Srinshee killed it with a wave of her hand and can presumably do the same to Elminster if he gets out of line, though she doesn’t see that happening (lady… you might be surprised).
Elminster introduces himself, saying that he is a prince of Athalantar and is surprised she knows it. She asks after Uthgrael and isn’t surprised to learn he’s dead and calls him a man of vigor. Well, well. Am I to assume that Elminster’s grandfather and the Srinshee were *she raises her eyebrows suggestively* Elminster thinks so too, but the Srinshee corrects him that it was never like that (sadly… that might have been worth including in the gossip rag!). In those days, we amused ourselves by peering at the doings of humans. When we saw someone interesting—a bold warrior, say, or a grasping mageling—we’d show ourselves to him by moonlight, and then lead him on a merry chase through the woods. Some of those chases ended in broken necks; some of us let ourselves be caught. *stunned* I do believe that Elminster’s new best friend just admitted to leading humans to their deaths, for amusement. I mean, her name does sound a bit like “siren” so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, but still… is this really someone we’re supposed to like? I led Uthgrael through half the southern High Forest until he fell exhausted, at dawn. I did show myself to him once later, when he was wed, just to see his jaw drop. Well, that is somehow both less interesting and more disturbing than I was expecting; congratulations, Greenwood! You have actually impressed me… but maybe not in the way you wanted to. Elminster thinks it’s going to be a long month down here – the Srinshee wants to know what pranks he’s played (“pranks” is certainly a way of saying “murders” – I’ve played some tricks in my time, but I prefer they not be fatal). Elminster starts talking about his time in Hastarl, and oh, Savored Sting preserve us, he's going to tell her about the time he and Farl kidnapped Shandathe, stripped her naked and stuck her in a stranger’s bed, isn’t he? *she looks faintly ill* I do have standards, you know! Luckily, the scene cuts off here.
MG: Anyway, yes, I find it very hard to read this passage as anything but proof that Elminster’s new best friend is (or used to be) a serial killer, and Elminster’s own grandfather was almost one of her victims. Fun! Which also reminds me of a bizarre bit in the Shadow of the Avatar books, where one of that series’ major characters is a Harper agent who offhandedly admits to sometimes having uncontrollable homicidal urges… and everyone else treats this as a mildly interesting quirk at most, and it’s never actually relevant to the story. Greenwood… why?
Mira: …it would seem to me to be one of those questions best not answered. We cut to some point later, as Elminster is exhausted from talking for so long. The Srinshee conjures food; Elminster wonders where it came from, and she just says “magic.” As if that were not entirely obvious. Oh, and since his hands were already full, she conjures a glass onto the top of his head. *confused* Ha… ha? Elminster, at least, thinks it’s hilarious and starts laughing uproariously, only to slip and fall when he leans against a pile of coins. Elminster doesn’t want coins and has nothing to buy with them anyway. Instead, he wants to know about the Srinshee. “So what brings an elven sorceress who can advise Coronals and blow away deep-worms and lead crowned kings on wild wood chases to some vaults underground no one ever sees?” he asked, when he’d eaten all he could. She says it’s a sense of belonging. Elminster does not understand how she could find belonging among such cold and lifeless things, so she explains. “Pay heed, Elminster. This is what you need me for: to make the choice the Coronal charged you to, and win your life. This arm ring is all Cormanthor has left of Princess Elvandaruil, lost in the waves of the Fallen Stars three thousand summers ago, when her flight spell failed. It washed up on Ambral Isle when Waterdeep was yet unborn.” *subdued* That, at least, I can understand. The past has power over the present, even when we forget it… sometimes especially when we forget it. My guild know that well, alas…
MG: Also… I’m confused about something. We’re currently in the third century of the Dalereckoning (Faerun’s main calendar). The region that will become Waterdeep is inhabited by this point… but it’s far from the great city it will become, and the name “Waterdeep” won’t be coined until the tenth century DR – almost seven hundred years from now. At the moment, per the FRWiki’s timeline, the region that will become Waterdeep is a small town ruled by Halaster Blackcloak from his tower (before he moved into Undermountain) and is known as Blackcloak Hold. So, uh, literally all of this stuff is from “when Waterdeep was yet unborn” because Waterdeep as such hasn’t been born yet and won’t be for a long time. What in the Nine Hells, Srinshee and/or Greenwood?
Mira: …I have no comment. Elminster picks up another object out of the pile of treasure and asks what it is. “The pectoral of Chathanglas Siltral, who styled himself Lord of the Rivers And Bays before the founding of your realm of Cormyr. He unwittingly took to wife a shapechanger, and the monstrous descendants of their offspring lurk yet, tentacled and deadly, in the waterways of Marsember and what humans call the Vast Swamp.” Hmmm; a tentacled shapechanger… that sounds rather familiar… *she recalls the ending of the previous book* Anyway, Elminster asks the Srinshee if she knows the history of every item in the vault, and she does. She says that she has to do something with her long life, and, I suppose, that’s better than some alternatives. Elminster is confused, since the Srinshee can’t be related to every elf who owned everything in the vault (is… that a requirement for learning about them?) and wonders what she feels she belongs to. “To the realm of my kin, and others of the People,” the sorceress said calmly. “I am Oluevaera Estelda, the last of my line. Yet I rise above the family rivalries of House against House, and consider all Cormanthans my kin. It gives me a reason for having lived so long, and another to go on living, after those I first loved are gone.” Elminster asks how lonely it is, and the Srinshee says he sees far, for a human, and she wishes that the Coronal’s judgment wasn’t hanging over him. Elminster says he’d rather not be here either, so the Srinshee points to a nearby sword and asks him to get it, and the scene ends as she says she’ll tell him about it.
MG: And yes, I’m pretty sure that bit about a “tentacled shapeshifter” is indeed a reference to the Malaugrym, and iirc it’s the only such reference in the book (save perhaps for one confusing bit much later, which might be a red herring or might just be Greenwood being thoughtless in his choice of words).
Calassara: *rolling her eyes* Greenwood being thoughtless – what a surprise! We cut to Elminster and the Srinshee later that evening as they discuss drinks, and when they’re done, Elminster digs out what else but a breastplate… It was fashioned of a single piece of copper as thick as his thumb, and sculpted into a pair of fine female breasts with a snarling lion’s jaws below them. I’m not certain, but I have a slight suspicion that’s meant to be suggestive – anyway, the Srinshee asks Elminster if he ever needs to sleep, and he says he doesn’t, as a gift from Mystra. Elminster starts examining the breastplate, of course, and then The bust of the long-lost Queen Eldratha of the vanished elven realm of Larlotha was of solid marble, and as tall as the length of Elminster’s arm. It came flying at him at just the right angle, and struck him almost gently behind his right ear. He never even knew it had hit him. And so Elminster has been knocked out! Thank you, o wise Srinshee – if you weren’t a murderer, I’d hug you. I’m considering it anyway. Unfortunately, we cut to Elminster waking up (albeit with a splitting headache – I’ll take what I can get). He sits up slowly, realizes he’s still in the Vault of Ages until the Coronal is ready to judge him, and calls out for the Srinshee. The old sorceress was lying spreadeagled on a heap of treasure, her gown in tatters and smoke rising lazily from her body. A body, largely bared now, that featured many wrinkles and age-spots, but seemed unmarked by recent violence. El crawled toward her, holding his head. She reveals that she attacked Elminster and paid the price – she apologizes, since she did what she did for the good of Cormanthor, and she chose wrongly (I beg to differ…). Apparently, the Srinshee was supposed to wait until Elminster slept and learn what she could from his sleeping mind, but when it turned out he didn’t need to sleep, she took matters into her own hands and hit him with the bust. To apologize, she heals his headache (boo…) and explains that when she tried to read his mind, “Mystra was waiting for me, just as she waited for the Coronal,” the Srinshee told him with the ghost of a smile on her lips. “She cares for you, young man. She thrust me right out of your mind, and told me she’d placed a spell in your mind that could blast me to dust.” And once again, literal divine intervention saves the day!
This makes Elminster realize he’s all out of his own prepared spells, and he’ll need new ones to survive for long in Cormanthor. But he realizes he has at least one spell that Mytsra left for him and he can activate of his own will, not just as a reflex. A deadly magic he’d never known before—so mighty, and so simple. One touch, and elven blood would boil in the body he’d chosen, melting it to dust in a few breaths regardless of armor and defensive magics, and … He shivered. That was a slaying spell. A needlessly gruesome one at that… though I’ll freely admit I’m not an impartial party here. And why does it apparently only target elves? Surely it would be easier to make a spell that worked on everybody? He’s suddenly drawn out of his thoughts as he realizes the Srinshee has bared her breasts and placed his hand over her heart. If he wants to kill her, she’ll let him. So… this woman is choosing the human she’s known for what, a day, over the realm she’s served for literally millennia? Excuse me? *she shakes her head* He’s not worth it, my lady – Calistria’s Sting, you must’ve been lonelier than I thought! Elminster pulls his hand away, and tells her that the Coronal wouldn’t be happy with him if he did that. “That’s the trouble with ye tragic types—no thought for what happens next!” *flatly* Very selfless, that Elminster. Fortunately for him, the Srinshee is amused rather than angry, and then starts crying – whether from joy, relief, sorrow or some combination of the above, I’m not sure. He tells her she promised him nightglade tea, and she bursts into a mix of laughter and sobs. El dragged her up into his arms to comfort her, and found that it was like cradling a crying child. She weighed nothing. But she conjures two cups of the tea, and the scene ends.
Mira: And so, we cut to some later point, as Elminster has lost track of all the wonders in the Vault. The Srinshee – who calls him “El” now – tells him his time is running out, so his month must be almost up. She’s still showing him various artifacts and telling their stories, and finally says that there are about ten breaths left – maybe twenty, depending on how eager the Coronal is. My, that’s not a lot, is it? Elminster thinks it’s his death the court is eager for, and asks about another artifact. “A crystal through which one can see the course of waterflows through the realm, on the surface or underground; every handspan of their travel, clearly lit for your eye to see beaver dams, snags, and sources of foulness.” Elminster takes it, along with a sword that cuts darkness and various forms of the undead (that might come in handy in my line of work – can I have it? One should never call up what one can’t put down, after all…); the Srinshee is now wearing a jeweled gown he found for her somewhere in there and insisted she put on. Suddenly there’s a flash of light, and Elminster is surrounded by a ring of six elf sorceresses. They have scepters levelled at him, and the Srinshee pulls out a seventh. Two of the sorceresses part and the Coronal steps between them; Elminster greets him, and the Coronal asks him what thing he has chosen to take out of the Vault. Elminster says he’s made his choice… and puts the treasures down so he’s empty handed. The Coronal says that to take nothing is a coward’s choice (or perhaps a wise person’s, depending on the alternatives) but Elminster says he is taking something, the most precious thing in the Vault. The mages begin preparing spells at this, but Elminster ignores them as they scry him for hidden objects and turns to the Srinshee. The Coronal asks him what the most precious thing is, and he says “Friendship,” Elminster replied. “Shared regard, and my fondness for a wise and gracious lady.” That… does seem like a wise choice, and perhaps the cleanest way to thread the needle, I’ll admit. It might even be heartwarming, if only I liked either of you and had known the Srinshee longer than a chapter. He gives her a bow worthy of a king’s envoy, and after a moment she bows back. The Coronal tells him he chose wisely (of course!) and then he bows to Elminster too. “I am honored by your presence in this fairest of realms; you are welcome here, as deserving of residence as any of the People. Be one with Cormanthor.” The gathered sorceresses start chanting and Cormanthor shall be one with thee, which sounds like a ritual phrase; Elminster sees the Srinshee crying happy tears and kisses her cheeks, and then the Coronal teleports them all into a large hall full of elven lords. Amid the astonished faces of the Court of Cormanthor, all heard it ring clear: “And Cormanthor shall be one with thee.” And on that note, the chapter… and Part I… ends there.
MG: I have to say, the worst thing about this chapter is how rushed it feels. The entire thing hinges on the developing friendship between the Srinshee and Elminster, but we’ve only just met the Srinshee and they hit it off immediately, so it all feels kind of hollow (also, she’s potentially a retired serial killer, and I think that should be a bigger deal than it is?). The Srinshee betraying her duty to the Coronal to side with Elminster should be a big deal… but as it is, it’s just sort of… there. Similarly, the twist with what Elminster chooses to take from the Vault makes sense, but really feels like it needed to be developed better (and I’m still not sure what this tells the Coronal about Mystra’s plans). The Vault itself is a potentially interesting setting, but quickly turns into a laundry list of artifacts without much of the wonder it probably should have. As for the Srinshee herself, she’s a pretty big deal. She’s still around in the present of the setting, technically – though by that point she’s become a baelnorn (basically, the good-aligned, elf equivalent of a lich, usually created to be a guardian of something) and has mostly retreated from the outside world. She's also one of the very short list of mages Greenwood himself admits could take even the present Elminster in a fight – though given her friendship with him, as well as her solitary nature, it’s very unlikely that fight would ever happen (that seems to be a trend with people powerful enough to beat Elminster, isn’t it?). Anyway, we’ve finally reached the end of the book’s Part One, as Elminster has officially now made it to Cormanthor and been accepted into the city. *flatly* Yay. Next time, we kick off Part II – Armathor, as we see the elves of Cormanthor start reacting to this development (spoiler warning… most of them are not happy). 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!
Greenwood can only write one book?
Date: 2024-01-23 11:48 pm (UTC)random low level Bandit attack ended bloodily (last time it was super-heated Armor, now it's homing animated swords)
Elmister entering a "seedy" tavern/inn and grandstanding a local loudmouth (who probably didn't deserve such disproportional retribution)
one off villain coming way closer to killing Elmister then any one else (Mage-killer serpent this time, that Demon(?) Sword last time)
Elmister suddenly having questions and doubts about Divinity, that never get address every again.
Elmister "needing" to bodily transform so powerful mages wouldn't recognize and kill him (Female human, Dead Moon Elf this time). Even thought it doesn't actual help him hide at all.
A super Ancient Magical Being becomes Mentor to Elmister, and they form a deep friendship (perhaps even more) off-screen.
Heck even the Quote unquote Comedy of Elmister in the Dead Elf's House feels rather similar to them busting in on the Merchant Princes wedding night last book.