masterghandalf (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
masterghandalf) wrote2024-01-19 08:03 am
masterghandalf) wrote2024-01-19 08:03 am
Elminster in Myth Drannor Chapter Seven: Every Pool its Party
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 was sent to the Vault of Ages, made friends with the Srinshee, passed the Coronal’s test and was officially made a citizen of Cormanthor! Today, we begin Part II: Armathor as we get some of the fallout from that… and more of Elminster getting his butt kissed, and also some fanservice. Joining us once again will be Calassara and Mira!
Chapter Seven: Every Pool its Party
Calassara: Hmm, I do like a good party… not that I have any confidence in Greenwood’s ability to deliver one, that is. We’re back to the High History of Faerunian Archmages Mighty for our quote today, which is as follows. When Elminster first saw it, Cormanthor was a city of haughty pretence, intrigue, strife, and decadence. A place, in fact, very like the proudest human cities of today. Oh, please. When it comes to haughty pretence, nobody outdoes elves. Trust me, I know. We open with someone named Ithrythra as she clicked her way unsteadily up the wooded path to the pool in her new boots and I can already see where this chapter is going. *rolls her eyes* Normally, I’d be all for descriptions of fashion… but I’d rather not have them presented to me by someone as busy leering at everyone wearing said fashions as Greenwood is likely to be. Anyway, Ithrythra finds the party underway when she arrives, and is greeted by someone named Duilya Everdusk, who is busy calling the Coronal mad. *winces* I can only hope the Coronal isn’t a guest at this particular party… Ithrythra thinks Duilya knows madness better than anyone as she starts taking off her thigh-high silver boots. It was a relief to step out of them. The spiked heels made her tower over the servants, yes, but ohh, how they hurt. Human fashions were as crazed as they were brazen. *arches an eyebrow* Now, I’ve certainly sampled some human fashions in my time, but I wouldn’t have thought these elves would be interested in that… unless they’re being rebellious. Though I must say, silver thigh-high boots with spiked heels aren’t a usual human fashion, in my experience- where have these girls been getting their ideas of what humans wear? Ithrythra proceeds to take off her gown, shake out her undergown, checks her reflection in a convenient mirror; As she stared into its depths and saw just a hint of swirling things there, she recalled that some Cormanth ladies whispered that this mirror sometimes served the Tornglaras as a portal into dark and dirty streets in the cities of men. And, clearly, they just leave this valuable magical treasure standing around where everyone can see it and use it. Or maybe as a party trick, which is, if anything, worse. Apparently the Tornglara men like to use it to conduct covert business the Coronal frowns on, and as for the Tornglara women… She clucked her lips at those thoughts and set them firmly aside. Fashions were what Alaglossa Tornglara went seeking; fashions, and no more. *singing* Someone’s in denial…
Oh, and then we get a description of Ithrythra herself. Her new hairdo had held its sideswirl, firmly woven about the hand lyre, sigil of her House. Her ears stood up proudly, their rouged tips unmarred by over-gaudy jewelry. She turned, so as to survey one side of her body, and then the other. The gems glued down her flanks were all in place. She struck a pose, and blew the mirror a pouting kiss. Not bad. And now I see Greenwood’s ulterior motive for including this scene. *shakes her head* Apparently, every fourth day the ladies of five houses gather at the pools of House Tornglara, to bathe, drink wine, and the justly famous Tornglara vintages flowed freely, and so did the real reason the ladies came back to the same place time and time again: the gossip. Because clearly, that is the one thing all women, regardless of species, care most about. Greenwood, you never fail to live down to my expectations. Ithrythra, who we now learn is surnamed Mornmist, sits down and slips her legs into the pool, listening to her friends talk, and wonders where the servants are. Their host notices her question and explains that they’ve been sent away – today, the ladies are here to discuss treason, potentially by the Coronal himself. Ithrythra wonders what treason the Coronal could have performed at his age (ah, my dear, you’d be surprised…) and Duilya taunts her for missing the news because she’s been too busy grubbing up mushrooms in her cellars. *beat* There’s some subtext I’m missing here, isn’t there? Damn, I hate when that happens… Ithrythra points out that at least the elders of her house trust her with some responsibility (involving mushrooms?) which apparently can’t be said of Duilya – this causes Cilivren, normally the quietest of their company, to choke on her wine, for some reason. Yes, there’s definitely some history here I’m missing… But the news is that the Coronal has named a man human – which is either redundant or irrelevant, depending on the definition of “man” one is using – as an armathor. After, apparently, this human stole a kiira, then broke into its owner’s house to steal more treasures and seduce the women. *beat* Eh, close enough. You left out the murder, though; he did that, too. Ithrythra wonders if the family in question was the Starym, who the Coronal isn’t fond of lately (yes, trying to kill him will do that…) but another of their party, Phuingara, reminds her that the Starym have served Cormanthor thousands of years and are entitled to their pride. And I could remind you of sayings from several cultures about pride, and what it goeth before…
Mira: I’ll take your word for it? Ithrythra thinks that those of truly noble spirit don’t indulge in pride at all – rather rich, coming from a woman who has literally glued gemstones to her body and then gone out in public like that. I would be absolutely mortified… Duilya complains about Ithrythra’s cutting tongue and wonders why her family puts up with her (clearly not for her tasteful fashion sense…) Alaglossa Torngrara says she knows why but doesn’t share it with us; the narrative seems more concerned about how The tips of her ears were almost drooping today under the weight of all the gems dangling from their rows of studs. *sympathetically rubs the point of one of her own ears* Ah… ow? But Alaglossa explains that it wasn’t the Starym, but the Alastrarras, and that some of the city’s mages are so outraged at the Coronal’s judgment they’ve already decided to challenge the human to a duel before the altar of Corellon, which certainly sounds… final. Some of the younger armathors, meanwhile, have literally broken their swords and thrown them at the Coronal’s feet – one threw his blade at the Coronal! *beat* I can’t say I think much of this society’s sense of decorum. If I threw a blade in anger at one of the grandmasters, well… *she blanches* let us merely say you’d probably need to find someone else to do this commentary for a while. Ithrythra wonders how long Elminster will last, and Duilya expects it won’t be long until someone challenges him, and if we’re very lucky, they’ll challenge him at court—or have seeing-spells cast beforehand, so we can all see him torn apart! *taken aback* Well, you’re very bloodthirsty, aren’t you? “And then,” she continued, still in full flood, “the First Houses might call a Hunt, for the first time in centuries, and they’ll force old Eltargrim into stag shape and hunt him down! Then we’ll have a new Coronal! Oh, what excitement!” *stunned* I know my people don’t have the best reputation, where I come from – our art upsets people, for some reason – but we have laws and when our guilds are dissatisfied with a grandmaster’s leadership, we vote them out and don’t hunt them like an anima! What is wrong with you people! *pauses, catches her breath* I’m… I’m getting quite worked up, aren’t I? I think this subject upsets me more than I thought… oh, and Duilya gets so excited she grabs a decanter of wine and drains the whole thing in one gulp, then collapses into the pool. Her friends are only concerned that if she drowns, their house lords won’t let them have these little get-togethers anymore – oh, Guardian of the Gate help me, I don’t think I like this party very much! Have any of these ladies considered joining a book club instead?
Well, Duilya does not drown as Ithrythra pulls her out and rather enthusiastically beats the water out of her, sending jewelry flying. Alaglossa’s amused, though, and chides Duilya for drinking too much; they fall to talking about wine, and what kinds the men prefer and whether they’ve ever had any, and honestly, I don’t think I’m qualified to comment on this? I mean, I don’t drink much, but apparently intoxication and necromancy are not things one should combine… I’ve heard stories… It all descends into arguing and name calling (by Nemorga, I’ve known apprentices more mature than these people…) Duilya eventually revives enough to get in on it, and Ithrythra looses her patience with her entirely and lets her know exactly what will happen if she gets her wish and the Coronal is killed. You can’t wait for the excitement, you say? Would you feel that way if I told you that naming a new Coronal is likely to mean poisonings, duels in the streets, and mages working nights in their towers to send slaying spells at their rivals all over the city? Human or no human, Eltargrim an addle-brained idiot or not, do you want to die—or see your children slain, and feuds begun that will rend Cormanthor forever, and let all the humans into our city over our warring bones? Ah, well said, I think? Also, does Duilya actually have children, or are these hypothetical children she might have? Because I’d been assuming from the way they were acting these were all rather young women, but if they’re noble matrons who are behaving this way… well, I don’t want to see how everyone else in their families acts. Ithrythra goes on to say that she doesn’t much like the idea of a human in Cormanthor, but she’d kiss him, and even do more than that, if she thought it would keep Cormanthor from destruction. “You think Cormanthor stands so splendid and mighty that none can touch us? How so? Our lords strut and sneer and tell tales of what heroics their fathers’ fathers did, when the world was young and we fought dragons barehanded moon in and moon out. And our sons boast of how much bolder they’ll be, and can’t even down a flagon of tripleshroom without falling over! Every year the axes of the humans nibble at the edges of our fair forests, and their mages grow stronger. Every year their adventurers grow bolder, and fewer of our patrols pass through a season without losing blood!” Well, she seems to be making some decent points… but I wish she’d do it with less racism…
MG: By “their mages grow stronger,” I assume she means that human mages are bouncing back from the Fall of Netheril, because taking that into account, the power of humanity’s mages has already peaked – and Mystra, as I’ve mentioned before, literally rewrote the whole magic system to keep anyone from ever being as powerful as the archwizards of Netheril again. But, in fact, I don’t think Netheril is even mentioned in this book. You know, it’s kind of a big deal…
Calassara: Well, assuming everyone else is just ignorant barbarians crawling out of the mud in comparison to themselves - all evidence to the contrary – is a time-honored tradition of elves, so why stop now? *idly* You may have guessed, but there are reasons I spend most of my time away from my homeland. Ithrythra finishes by saying that she doesn’t expect Cormanthor will still be standing when she dies, and then promptly grabs a decanter of wine and drains it herself, very deliberately in front of Duilya without falling into the pool. I’m torn between being impressed, and thinking she ruined the speech with that last-minute pettiness. Duilya thinks that this is ridiculous, that nobody can ever threaten Cormanthor, and they can always use their magic to turn invaders into mushrooms and make sherry out of them (aha, mystery solved – also, ew). But it turns out Duilya’s the only one amused by this little “joke,” and Phuingara says that they gossip and prattle their days away because they don’t like to think of such things. Spoken like someone who hasn’t realized what a source of useful information gossip can be – assuming you can sort the wheat from the chaff, that is, which I like to think I can. But now she says she agrees with Ithrythra, and just because people don’t talk about these things publicly doesn’t make her wrong. At last, someone is talking wisdom. Phuingara, her piece said, then turns to leave, though Alaglossa begs her to stay. She thinks this is too important to treat as just another moment to blow off. They have to work to keep the peace, though Duilya complains that her family never listens to her (I wonder why?). Cilivren and Phuingara tell her she has to get better at turning your lord to your will, and I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be her husband or some other relative, but it does seem either way to play into the idea that women can only have power by manipulating men – even though we’ve already seen that several of the noble houses in this city are led by women, so one would think that they’d be used to the idea of women holding power openly.
The plan they come up with to manipulate Lord Evendusk apparently involves Duilya waiting until he’s drunk, stealing his wine, drinking some of it herself to prove she’s hardier than he is, and not giving the rest back until he listens to her, so… a masterpiece of subtlety, this is not. And, if he still won’t listen, she can shame him by dragging him off to bed and insulting his prowess (husband it is, I suppose) in front of the whole House. This amuses all the ladies, and so they all decide to practice getting drunk without showing it, to better manipulate the men in their lives. *she sighs* Because clearly, that’s the sensible course of action here. They decide on using a spell to turn wine to water as soon as they drink it (the other way around sounds more fun…) and Duilya wants to know what to do if her husband decides to throw her out of the house and marry someone else after she humiliates him in front of everyone. Now, I don’t know what Cormanthan divorce laws are like, but that does seem like something that should be considered before embarking on this plan, yes? Alaglossa tells her to repeat Ithrythra’s words, argue with him as an equal… and then, as he’s sitting there stunned, drag him off to bed. Which seems to be right back where we started. Duilya starts to laugh, invoking someone named Hanali to bless them all, and Ithryrthra asks if she can use a spell to link their minds, so she can prompt Duilya if necessary (and, ah… what if you do drag your husband off to bed? I think poor Ithrythra is going to get more than she bargained for!). The other ladies think this is a grand idea and pour more drinks, and the scene ends there.
MG: “Hanali,” for the record, is Hanali Celanil, elven goddess of love – also, together with the previously mentioned Sehanine Moonbow, one of the three component goddesses of the triple goddess Angharradh (the third being Aerdrie Faenya, goddess of the sky).
Mira: Ah; I suppose invoking her makes sense, then. We cut to Elminster as the Srinshee tells him that in time, she’ll teach him elven magic but for now he’s in danger (wouldn’t it be better to teach him powerful magic now, before he’s in danger?). Elminster asks why she’s brought him here – wherever here may be – and she explains. “A sacred tomb of our people—a haunted tower, once the home of the first proud and noble House to try to make themselves greater than the rest of us. The Dlardrageth.” A haunted tower? *with a tone of visible longing* Can… can I go there? Just for a little while? As for the fate of the Dlardrageth, They courted incubi and succubi, seeking to breed a stronger race. Few survived such dealings, fewer still the birthings that followed, and all elven peoples turned against them. The few survivors were walled in here by our strongest spells, until the end of their days. Well, that’s… rather horrible. Apparently, young Cormanthan nobles sometimes come here looking for treasure. They usually don’t find much of value – and do bring back stories of the ghosts. “Oh, there are a few, but nothing that need be feared. What matters most is that we won’t be disturbed.” I… would not be so blasé about that, Lady Srinshee? This situation seems like it would breed the sorts of ghosts that linger not from sorrow or unfinished business, but from sheer hate for the living. I don’t think my guild has a branch in your world (I think I’d know if we had gone… multiversal), but have you considered consulting your local necromancers? You might need to. Elminster asks if the Srinshee is going to teach him magic, and she corrects him – he’s going to teach her magic! *she sighs* Why am I not surprised… She immediately conjures Elminster’s spellbook, which he’d thought lost after the hobgoblin attack – nice trick – and he thanks her, though he’s also worried that those elves that don’t approve of his presence here might be hunting through the whole city looking for him. The Srinshee agrees and implies Elminster will eventually have duties that the Coronal will expect him to take up, but for now the nobles of Cormanthor tend to obsess over every new thing in their midst, but quickly lose interest, so the Srinshee is keeping him here and safe. Considering the level of maturity some of those nobles just demonstrated… I am not surprised. Elminster thinks elves remind him more and more of humans, to which the Srinshee is outraged – that he dares speak the truth, that is, since she rarely deals with honesty. Because of course.
MG: To add a bit more about the Dlardrageths, they’re basically high-elven hypocrisy personified – the sort who’d faint in horror at the prospect of being in the same room as a human, but who happily mingled their own bloodline with demons because they thought it would give them an edge over their enemies. Their role in this book is mostly minor – more’s the pity – but they’re fairly prominent elsewhere. The true goal of the Dlardrageths was to resurrect the ancient elven empire of Aryvandaar (if Cormanthor is the youngest and longest-lasting of the great elven empires of Faerun, Aryvandaar was the oldest and most powerful, basically the elf equivalent of Netheril – before their quest for power started the Crown Wars and ended with their entire civilization self-destructing, that is). Despite what the Srinshee says here, a couple of Dlardrageths did survive – Sarya Dlardrageth, the half-fiend head of the house, and her son Xhalph (and some of their fey’ri – basically, the elf equivalent of tieflings – retainers) who were imprisoned under Hellgate Keep. Eventually they escaped, and Sarya, in her attempt to claim the throne of queen of all elves which she saw as rightfully hers, became the big bad of the Last Mythal novel trilogy in the mid-2000s. Just for some context.
Mira: Horrifying, but fascinating. Elminster asks if elves are honest – I think it depends? – and she says that they’re sometimes too worldly for their own good. *she pauses* Admittedly, I don’t feel all that worldly myself – I’ve never even left Hollowfaust (except to do this, of course), for Nemorga’s sake! – but I don’t think this *she gestures at the extreme gaudiness of Cormanthor* is it. At her words, a darkness rose behind her, and sudden claws flashed down. El started up with a cry but the claws flashed through her and raced on through the gloom between them, trailing a thin, high wailing that faded away as if into vast distances. That, as it happens, is one of the ghosts, which wants to learn Elminster’s magic too. I… don’t think getting rid of them will be that easy, in that case. Ghosts, driven as they are by whatever obsession tethers them to life beyond its natural end, can be… tenacious. Elminster realizes that the Srinshee is serious, and so she responds. “You begin to see, I hope, just how much my People need you, and others like you, to breathe new ideas into us and awaken the flame of spirit that once made us soar above all others in Faerûn. Consorting with humans, with our half-kin and the little folk, and even with dwarves is the Coronal’s dream. He can see so clearly what we must do—and the great Houses refuse so adamantly to see anything except the dreaming days stretching on forever, with themselves at the pinnacle of all.” And of course, Elminster of all people is the one who is supposed to restore the spirit of the elves (and not, say, an elf – or at least a half-elf. *beat* No, no I’m not volunteering! I don’t want to go to Cormanthor! It all sounds… overwhelming). He thinks it sounds like a heavy burden, but the Srinshee thinks he can carry it. ‘Tis why Mystra chose you. And, ah, don’t the elven gods get any say in this at all? Won’t Corellon be a bit upset that Mystra is stepping on their toes like this? At least in my world, gods can be very territorial…
Calassara: Alas, this is Greenwood’s world, where Elminster is the best wizard and Mystra is the best goddess and everyone who disagrees are bad guys who are introduced and then die a chapter later. I swear… Well, we have a scene change as someone named Sylmae asks her companions what they are going to decide to do. It turns out she is one of the sorceresses who accompanied the Coronal to the vault last chapter, and her companions are the other five – they had to do it after the regular court mages, Earynspeir and Ilimitar, refused. Well, after the scare Mystra gave them, I can’t say I blame them. Holone, one of the other mages, says they should watch and wait. Sylmae wonders if they’re just going to stand back and watch whatever chaos Elminster’s acceptance into Cormanthor causes unfold, and Ajhandala thinks that by watching other peoples’ reactions, they’ll be able to tell who stands where. Unless they’re smart enough to conceal their intentions, of course… Sylmae thinks that angered elves might strike out at them, or the great houses, or the Coronal, or the court mages, or the Srinshee, or all of the above – Holone agrees but says they don’t know what will happen, and that’s why they need a plan. Yathlanae says they need to work together – isn’t that why you’re here? – and Holone agrees, saying they can’t fall into argument. Ajhandala asks Sylmae, who apparently gets out in public more than the rest of them, who she thinks the most important houses to watch are. “The spine of the old Houses—those who despise and stand against the Coronal, and lady sorceresses, and anything that is new these past three thousand years—are the Starym, of course, and Houses Echorn and Waelvor. The path they cleave, the old Houses and all of the timid new ones will follow. They are the tide: slow, mighty, and predictable.” If that’s the case, it seems like you all should have guessed that already…
Yathlanae thinks there’s no point in watching the tide, since it never changes (ah, actually, I can think of quite a few unpredictable dangers that could hide in the tides – or old, conservative noble houses, for that matter). Sylmae agrees, but thinks they aren’t the real threat. They are the powerful newer proud ones, the rich houses, led by Maendellyn and Nlossae. Holone thinks they’re just as predictable in their desire to supplant the old houses, but Sylmae thinks there’s a third group, who may be the most dangerous. They are a group only in my speaking of them; in Cormanthor they hew their own roads, and walk to differing stars. The reckless upstarts, some term them; they are the Houses who will try anything, merely for the joy of being part of something new. They are Auglamyr and Ealoeth, and lesser families such as the Falanae and Uirthur.” Holone reminds Sylmae – who’s apparently her sister; I hadn’t realized that – that they’re Auglamyr and wonders if she’s insulting them both too, but Sylmae thinks that by forming their alliance and working together, they’re already doing something new and reckless, which proves her point. And the male members of their families definitely wouldn’t approve. She-elves are only for dancing, bedecking with gems, and begetting young on, know you not?” “Cooking,” Ajhalanda said. “You forgot cooking.” Sylmae shrugged and smiled. “I was ever a poor dutiful she-elf.” *flatly* How very sexist. Suddenly I have to agree with Mira and find my own desire to visit Cormanthor greatly lessened – my own people have many flaws, but are usually egalitarian about gender, at least! Yathlanae points out that some of the noble men aren’t so impressive either, which Holone thinks might explain why they feel so threatened by one human. Sylmae thinks Cormanthor is in danger – don’t all of you know that already? Isn’t that, in fact, why you’re having this conversation? – and she and Holone agree to watch and act when the time comes. Which is where they stood when this conversation started, ugh! As if that had been a cue, the balefire went out; someone had sent scrying magic their way. Without another word or light, they parted and slipped away, leaving the air high above the palace to the bats and the glittering stars … who seemed quite comfortable there until morning. Well, at least someone’s comfortable. But on that note, the chapter comes to an end.
MG: And so, it does. And no, I don’t know why the elves suddenly seem to have adopted stereotypical human, almost Victorian gender roles (albeit not fashion sense) this chapter, with women being placed on pedestals but mostly locked out of real power save that which they can get by manipulating the men in their lives… Faerunian elves, whatever their other faults, are almost always depicted as being very egalitarian about gender, and in this book alone we’ve thus far had multiple major houses ruled by matriarchs with absolutely no indication this is out of the ordinary (and one of those had a brother, so it’s not like succession only goes to women if there are no male heirs). Otherwise, this chapter was basically three loosely connected chunks. The first mostly couldn’t seem to decide if the gathered elven ladies were astute political observers who see truths their menfolk refuse to and plan accordingly, or a bunch of upper-class twits whose idea of activism consists entirely of finding new ways to get drunk and have more sex. The second part mostly served to stroke Elminster’s ego some more – one of the oldest, most powerful mages in the world wants him to teach her! And then the sorceresses at the end mostly seem to be acting out Linkara’s impression of the Monitors from Countdown – “Should we do something?” “We should do something!” “Should we do something?” ad infinitum. Also, spoilers, but they’re entirely wrong about the political situation. Of the younger houses Sylmae thinks are the real threat, only the Auglamyr are actually important – most of the others aren’t even mentioned again after this scene. The book’s real villains belong to, drum roll, the Starym, who they’ve dismissed as staid and predictable. Great job, everyone! Anyway, next time, assassins strike and an important new character (who I personally think Greenwood bafflingly mishandles) is introduced. Well see you then!
I’m also partway through 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 was sent to the Vault of Ages, made friends with the Srinshee, passed the Coronal’s test and was officially made a citizen of Cormanthor! Today, we begin Part II: Armathor as we get some of the fallout from that… and more of Elminster getting his butt kissed, and also some fanservice. Joining us once again will be Calassara and Mira!
Chapter Seven: Every Pool its Party
Calassara: Hmm, I do like a good party… not that I have any confidence in Greenwood’s ability to deliver one, that is. We’re back to the High History of Faerunian Archmages Mighty for our quote today, which is as follows. When Elminster first saw it, Cormanthor was a city of haughty pretence, intrigue, strife, and decadence. A place, in fact, very like the proudest human cities of today. Oh, please. When it comes to haughty pretence, nobody outdoes elves. Trust me, I know. We open with someone named Ithrythra as she clicked her way unsteadily up the wooded path to the pool in her new boots and I can already see where this chapter is going. *rolls her eyes* Normally, I’d be all for descriptions of fashion… but I’d rather not have them presented to me by someone as busy leering at everyone wearing said fashions as Greenwood is likely to be. Anyway, Ithrythra finds the party underway when she arrives, and is greeted by someone named Duilya Everdusk, who is busy calling the Coronal mad. *winces* I can only hope the Coronal isn’t a guest at this particular party… Ithrythra thinks Duilya knows madness better than anyone as she starts taking off her thigh-high silver boots. It was a relief to step out of them. The spiked heels made her tower over the servants, yes, but ohh, how they hurt. Human fashions were as crazed as they were brazen. *arches an eyebrow* Now, I’ve certainly sampled some human fashions in my time, but I wouldn’t have thought these elves would be interested in that… unless they’re being rebellious. Though I must say, silver thigh-high boots with spiked heels aren’t a usual human fashion, in my experience- where have these girls been getting their ideas of what humans wear? Ithrythra proceeds to take off her gown, shake out her undergown, checks her reflection in a convenient mirror; As she stared into its depths and saw just a hint of swirling things there, she recalled that some Cormanth ladies whispered that this mirror sometimes served the Tornglaras as a portal into dark and dirty streets in the cities of men. And, clearly, they just leave this valuable magical treasure standing around where everyone can see it and use it. Or maybe as a party trick, which is, if anything, worse. Apparently the Tornglara men like to use it to conduct covert business the Coronal frowns on, and as for the Tornglara women… She clucked her lips at those thoughts and set them firmly aside. Fashions were what Alaglossa Tornglara went seeking; fashions, and no more. *singing* Someone’s in denial…
Oh, and then we get a description of Ithrythra herself. Her new hairdo had held its sideswirl, firmly woven about the hand lyre, sigil of her House. Her ears stood up proudly, their rouged tips unmarred by over-gaudy jewelry. She turned, so as to survey one side of her body, and then the other. The gems glued down her flanks were all in place. She struck a pose, and blew the mirror a pouting kiss. Not bad. And now I see Greenwood’s ulterior motive for including this scene. *shakes her head* Apparently, every fourth day the ladies of five houses gather at the pools of House Tornglara, to bathe, drink wine, and the justly famous Tornglara vintages flowed freely, and so did the real reason the ladies came back to the same place time and time again: the gossip. Because clearly, that is the one thing all women, regardless of species, care most about. Greenwood, you never fail to live down to my expectations. Ithrythra, who we now learn is surnamed Mornmist, sits down and slips her legs into the pool, listening to her friends talk, and wonders where the servants are. Their host notices her question and explains that they’ve been sent away – today, the ladies are here to discuss treason, potentially by the Coronal himself. Ithrythra wonders what treason the Coronal could have performed at his age (ah, my dear, you’d be surprised…) and Duilya taunts her for missing the news because she’s been too busy grubbing up mushrooms in her cellars. *beat* There’s some subtext I’m missing here, isn’t there? Damn, I hate when that happens… Ithrythra points out that at least the elders of her house trust her with some responsibility (involving mushrooms?) which apparently can’t be said of Duilya – this causes Cilivren, normally the quietest of their company, to choke on her wine, for some reason. Yes, there’s definitely some history here I’m missing… But the news is that the Coronal has named a man human – which is either redundant or irrelevant, depending on the definition of “man” one is using – as an armathor. After, apparently, this human stole a kiira, then broke into its owner’s house to steal more treasures and seduce the women. *beat* Eh, close enough. You left out the murder, though; he did that, too. Ithrythra wonders if the family in question was the Starym, who the Coronal isn’t fond of lately (yes, trying to kill him will do that…) but another of their party, Phuingara, reminds her that the Starym have served Cormanthor thousands of years and are entitled to their pride. And I could remind you of sayings from several cultures about pride, and what it goeth before…
Mira: I’ll take your word for it? Ithrythra thinks that those of truly noble spirit don’t indulge in pride at all – rather rich, coming from a woman who has literally glued gemstones to her body and then gone out in public like that. I would be absolutely mortified… Duilya complains about Ithrythra’s cutting tongue and wonders why her family puts up with her (clearly not for her tasteful fashion sense…) Alaglossa Torngrara says she knows why but doesn’t share it with us; the narrative seems more concerned about how The tips of her ears were almost drooping today under the weight of all the gems dangling from their rows of studs. *sympathetically rubs the point of one of her own ears* Ah… ow? But Alaglossa explains that it wasn’t the Starym, but the Alastrarras, and that some of the city’s mages are so outraged at the Coronal’s judgment they’ve already decided to challenge the human to a duel before the altar of Corellon, which certainly sounds… final. Some of the younger armathors, meanwhile, have literally broken their swords and thrown them at the Coronal’s feet – one threw his blade at the Coronal! *beat* I can’t say I think much of this society’s sense of decorum. If I threw a blade in anger at one of the grandmasters, well… *she blanches* let us merely say you’d probably need to find someone else to do this commentary for a while. Ithrythra wonders how long Elminster will last, and Duilya expects it won’t be long until someone challenges him, and if we’re very lucky, they’ll challenge him at court—or have seeing-spells cast beforehand, so we can all see him torn apart! *taken aback* Well, you’re very bloodthirsty, aren’t you? “And then,” she continued, still in full flood, “the First Houses might call a Hunt, for the first time in centuries, and they’ll force old Eltargrim into stag shape and hunt him down! Then we’ll have a new Coronal! Oh, what excitement!” *stunned* I know my people don’t have the best reputation, where I come from – our art upsets people, for some reason – but we have laws and when our guilds are dissatisfied with a grandmaster’s leadership, we vote them out and don’t hunt them like an anima! What is wrong with you people! *pauses, catches her breath* I’m… I’m getting quite worked up, aren’t I? I think this subject upsets me more than I thought… oh, and Duilya gets so excited she grabs a decanter of wine and drains the whole thing in one gulp, then collapses into the pool. Her friends are only concerned that if she drowns, their house lords won’t let them have these little get-togethers anymore – oh, Guardian of the Gate help me, I don’t think I like this party very much! Have any of these ladies considered joining a book club instead?
Well, Duilya does not drown as Ithrythra pulls her out and rather enthusiastically beats the water out of her, sending jewelry flying. Alaglossa’s amused, though, and chides Duilya for drinking too much; they fall to talking about wine, and what kinds the men prefer and whether they’ve ever had any, and honestly, I don’t think I’m qualified to comment on this? I mean, I don’t drink much, but apparently intoxication and necromancy are not things one should combine… I’ve heard stories… It all descends into arguing and name calling (by Nemorga, I’ve known apprentices more mature than these people…) Duilya eventually revives enough to get in on it, and Ithrythra looses her patience with her entirely and lets her know exactly what will happen if she gets her wish and the Coronal is killed. You can’t wait for the excitement, you say? Would you feel that way if I told you that naming a new Coronal is likely to mean poisonings, duels in the streets, and mages working nights in their towers to send slaying spells at their rivals all over the city? Human or no human, Eltargrim an addle-brained idiot or not, do you want to die—or see your children slain, and feuds begun that will rend Cormanthor forever, and let all the humans into our city over our warring bones? Ah, well said, I think? Also, does Duilya actually have children, or are these hypothetical children she might have? Because I’d been assuming from the way they were acting these were all rather young women, but if they’re noble matrons who are behaving this way… well, I don’t want to see how everyone else in their families acts. Ithrythra goes on to say that she doesn’t much like the idea of a human in Cormanthor, but she’d kiss him, and even do more than that, if she thought it would keep Cormanthor from destruction. “You think Cormanthor stands so splendid and mighty that none can touch us? How so? Our lords strut and sneer and tell tales of what heroics their fathers’ fathers did, when the world was young and we fought dragons barehanded moon in and moon out. And our sons boast of how much bolder they’ll be, and can’t even down a flagon of tripleshroom without falling over! Every year the axes of the humans nibble at the edges of our fair forests, and their mages grow stronger. Every year their adventurers grow bolder, and fewer of our patrols pass through a season without losing blood!” Well, she seems to be making some decent points… but I wish she’d do it with less racism…
MG: By “their mages grow stronger,” I assume she means that human mages are bouncing back from the Fall of Netheril, because taking that into account, the power of humanity’s mages has already peaked – and Mystra, as I’ve mentioned before, literally rewrote the whole magic system to keep anyone from ever being as powerful as the archwizards of Netheril again. But, in fact, I don’t think Netheril is even mentioned in this book. You know, it’s kind of a big deal…
Calassara: Well, assuming everyone else is just ignorant barbarians crawling out of the mud in comparison to themselves - all evidence to the contrary – is a time-honored tradition of elves, so why stop now? *idly* You may have guessed, but there are reasons I spend most of my time away from my homeland. Ithrythra finishes by saying that she doesn’t expect Cormanthor will still be standing when she dies, and then promptly grabs a decanter of wine and drains it herself, very deliberately in front of Duilya without falling into the pool. I’m torn between being impressed, and thinking she ruined the speech with that last-minute pettiness. Duilya thinks that this is ridiculous, that nobody can ever threaten Cormanthor, and they can always use their magic to turn invaders into mushrooms and make sherry out of them (aha, mystery solved – also, ew). But it turns out Duilya’s the only one amused by this little “joke,” and Phuingara says that they gossip and prattle their days away because they don’t like to think of such things. Spoken like someone who hasn’t realized what a source of useful information gossip can be – assuming you can sort the wheat from the chaff, that is, which I like to think I can. But now she says she agrees with Ithrythra, and just because people don’t talk about these things publicly doesn’t make her wrong. At last, someone is talking wisdom. Phuingara, her piece said, then turns to leave, though Alaglossa begs her to stay. She thinks this is too important to treat as just another moment to blow off. They have to work to keep the peace, though Duilya complains that her family never listens to her (I wonder why?). Cilivren and Phuingara tell her she has to get better at turning your lord to your will, and I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be her husband or some other relative, but it does seem either way to play into the idea that women can only have power by manipulating men – even though we’ve already seen that several of the noble houses in this city are led by women, so one would think that they’d be used to the idea of women holding power openly.
The plan they come up with to manipulate Lord Evendusk apparently involves Duilya waiting until he’s drunk, stealing his wine, drinking some of it herself to prove she’s hardier than he is, and not giving the rest back until he listens to her, so… a masterpiece of subtlety, this is not. And, if he still won’t listen, she can shame him by dragging him off to bed and insulting his prowess (husband it is, I suppose) in front of the whole House. This amuses all the ladies, and so they all decide to practice getting drunk without showing it, to better manipulate the men in their lives. *she sighs* Because clearly, that’s the sensible course of action here. They decide on using a spell to turn wine to water as soon as they drink it (the other way around sounds more fun…) and Duilya wants to know what to do if her husband decides to throw her out of the house and marry someone else after she humiliates him in front of everyone. Now, I don’t know what Cormanthan divorce laws are like, but that does seem like something that should be considered before embarking on this plan, yes? Alaglossa tells her to repeat Ithrythra’s words, argue with him as an equal… and then, as he’s sitting there stunned, drag him off to bed. Which seems to be right back where we started. Duilya starts to laugh, invoking someone named Hanali to bless them all, and Ithryrthra asks if she can use a spell to link their minds, so she can prompt Duilya if necessary (and, ah… what if you do drag your husband off to bed? I think poor Ithrythra is going to get more than she bargained for!). The other ladies think this is a grand idea and pour more drinks, and the scene ends there.
MG: “Hanali,” for the record, is Hanali Celanil, elven goddess of love – also, together with the previously mentioned Sehanine Moonbow, one of the three component goddesses of the triple goddess Angharradh (the third being Aerdrie Faenya, goddess of the sky).
Mira: Ah; I suppose invoking her makes sense, then. We cut to Elminster as the Srinshee tells him that in time, she’ll teach him elven magic but for now he’s in danger (wouldn’t it be better to teach him powerful magic now, before he’s in danger?). Elminster asks why she’s brought him here – wherever here may be – and she explains. “A sacred tomb of our people—a haunted tower, once the home of the first proud and noble House to try to make themselves greater than the rest of us. The Dlardrageth.” A haunted tower? *with a tone of visible longing* Can… can I go there? Just for a little while? As for the fate of the Dlardrageth, They courted incubi and succubi, seeking to breed a stronger race. Few survived such dealings, fewer still the birthings that followed, and all elven peoples turned against them. The few survivors were walled in here by our strongest spells, until the end of their days. Well, that’s… rather horrible. Apparently, young Cormanthan nobles sometimes come here looking for treasure. They usually don’t find much of value – and do bring back stories of the ghosts. “Oh, there are a few, but nothing that need be feared. What matters most is that we won’t be disturbed.” I… would not be so blasé about that, Lady Srinshee? This situation seems like it would breed the sorts of ghosts that linger not from sorrow or unfinished business, but from sheer hate for the living. I don’t think my guild has a branch in your world (I think I’d know if we had gone… multiversal), but have you considered consulting your local necromancers? You might need to. Elminster asks if the Srinshee is going to teach him magic, and she corrects him – he’s going to teach her magic! *she sighs* Why am I not surprised… She immediately conjures Elminster’s spellbook, which he’d thought lost after the hobgoblin attack – nice trick – and he thanks her, though he’s also worried that those elves that don’t approve of his presence here might be hunting through the whole city looking for him. The Srinshee agrees and implies Elminster will eventually have duties that the Coronal will expect him to take up, but for now the nobles of Cormanthor tend to obsess over every new thing in their midst, but quickly lose interest, so the Srinshee is keeping him here and safe. Considering the level of maturity some of those nobles just demonstrated… I am not surprised. Elminster thinks elves remind him more and more of humans, to which the Srinshee is outraged – that he dares speak the truth, that is, since she rarely deals with honesty. Because of course.
MG: To add a bit more about the Dlardrageths, they’re basically high-elven hypocrisy personified – the sort who’d faint in horror at the prospect of being in the same room as a human, but who happily mingled their own bloodline with demons because they thought it would give them an edge over their enemies. Their role in this book is mostly minor – more’s the pity – but they’re fairly prominent elsewhere. The true goal of the Dlardrageths was to resurrect the ancient elven empire of Aryvandaar (if Cormanthor is the youngest and longest-lasting of the great elven empires of Faerun, Aryvandaar was the oldest and most powerful, basically the elf equivalent of Netheril – before their quest for power started the Crown Wars and ended with their entire civilization self-destructing, that is). Despite what the Srinshee says here, a couple of Dlardrageths did survive – Sarya Dlardrageth, the half-fiend head of the house, and her son Xhalph (and some of their fey’ri – basically, the elf equivalent of tieflings – retainers) who were imprisoned under Hellgate Keep. Eventually they escaped, and Sarya, in her attempt to claim the throne of queen of all elves which she saw as rightfully hers, became the big bad of the Last Mythal novel trilogy in the mid-2000s. Just for some context.
Mira: Horrifying, but fascinating. Elminster asks if elves are honest – I think it depends? – and she says that they’re sometimes too worldly for their own good. *she pauses* Admittedly, I don’t feel all that worldly myself – I’ve never even left Hollowfaust (except to do this, of course), for Nemorga’s sake! – but I don’t think this *she gestures at the extreme gaudiness of Cormanthor* is it. At her words, a darkness rose behind her, and sudden claws flashed down. El started up with a cry but the claws flashed through her and raced on through the gloom between them, trailing a thin, high wailing that faded away as if into vast distances. That, as it happens, is one of the ghosts, which wants to learn Elminster’s magic too. I… don’t think getting rid of them will be that easy, in that case. Ghosts, driven as they are by whatever obsession tethers them to life beyond its natural end, can be… tenacious. Elminster realizes that the Srinshee is serious, and so she responds. “You begin to see, I hope, just how much my People need you, and others like you, to breathe new ideas into us and awaken the flame of spirit that once made us soar above all others in Faerûn. Consorting with humans, with our half-kin and the little folk, and even with dwarves is the Coronal’s dream. He can see so clearly what we must do—and the great Houses refuse so adamantly to see anything except the dreaming days stretching on forever, with themselves at the pinnacle of all.” And of course, Elminster of all people is the one who is supposed to restore the spirit of the elves (and not, say, an elf – or at least a half-elf. *beat* No, no I’m not volunteering! I don’t want to go to Cormanthor! It all sounds… overwhelming). He thinks it sounds like a heavy burden, but the Srinshee thinks he can carry it. ‘Tis why Mystra chose you. And, ah, don’t the elven gods get any say in this at all? Won’t Corellon be a bit upset that Mystra is stepping on their toes like this? At least in my world, gods can be very territorial…
Calassara: Alas, this is Greenwood’s world, where Elminster is the best wizard and Mystra is the best goddess and everyone who disagrees are bad guys who are introduced and then die a chapter later. I swear… Well, we have a scene change as someone named Sylmae asks her companions what they are going to decide to do. It turns out she is one of the sorceresses who accompanied the Coronal to the vault last chapter, and her companions are the other five – they had to do it after the regular court mages, Earynspeir and Ilimitar, refused. Well, after the scare Mystra gave them, I can’t say I blame them. Holone, one of the other mages, says they should watch and wait. Sylmae wonders if they’re just going to stand back and watch whatever chaos Elminster’s acceptance into Cormanthor causes unfold, and Ajhandala thinks that by watching other peoples’ reactions, they’ll be able to tell who stands where. Unless they’re smart enough to conceal their intentions, of course… Sylmae thinks that angered elves might strike out at them, or the great houses, or the Coronal, or the court mages, or the Srinshee, or all of the above – Holone agrees but says they don’t know what will happen, and that’s why they need a plan. Yathlanae says they need to work together – isn’t that why you’re here? – and Holone agrees, saying they can’t fall into argument. Ajhandala asks Sylmae, who apparently gets out in public more than the rest of them, who she thinks the most important houses to watch are. “The spine of the old Houses—those who despise and stand against the Coronal, and lady sorceresses, and anything that is new these past three thousand years—are the Starym, of course, and Houses Echorn and Waelvor. The path they cleave, the old Houses and all of the timid new ones will follow. They are the tide: slow, mighty, and predictable.” If that’s the case, it seems like you all should have guessed that already…
Yathlanae thinks there’s no point in watching the tide, since it never changes (ah, actually, I can think of quite a few unpredictable dangers that could hide in the tides – or old, conservative noble houses, for that matter). Sylmae agrees, but thinks they aren’t the real threat. They are the powerful newer proud ones, the rich houses, led by Maendellyn and Nlossae. Holone thinks they’re just as predictable in their desire to supplant the old houses, but Sylmae thinks there’s a third group, who may be the most dangerous. They are a group only in my speaking of them; in Cormanthor they hew their own roads, and walk to differing stars. The reckless upstarts, some term them; they are the Houses who will try anything, merely for the joy of being part of something new. They are Auglamyr and Ealoeth, and lesser families such as the Falanae and Uirthur.” Holone reminds Sylmae – who’s apparently her sister; I hadn’t realized that – that they’re Auglamyr and wonders if she’s insulting them both too, but Sylmae thinks that by forming their alliance and working together, they’re already doing something new and reckless, which proves her point. And the male members of their families definitely wouldn’t approve. She-elves are only for dancing, bedecking with gems, and begetting young on, know you not?” “Cooking,” Ajhalanda said. “You forgot cooking.” Sylmae shrugged and smiled. “I was ever a poor dutiful she-elf.” *flatly* How very sexist. Suddenly I have to agree with Mira and find my own desire to visit Cormanthor greatly lessened – my own people have many flaws, but are usually egalitarian about gender, at least! Yathlanae points out that some of the noble men aren’t so impressive either, which Holone thinks might explain why they feel so threatened by one human. Sylmae thinks Cormanthor is in danger – don’t all of you know that already? Isn’t that, in fact, why you’re having this conversation? – and she and Holone agree to watch and act when the time comes. Which is where they stood when this conversation started, ugh! As if that had been a cue, the balefire went out; someone had sent scrying magic their way. Without another word or light, they parted and slipped away, leaving the air high above the palace to the bats and the glittering stars … who seemed quite comfortable there until morning. Well, at least someone’s comfortable. But on that note, the chapter comes to an end.
MG: And so, it does. And no, I don’t know why the elves suddenly seem to have adopted stereotypical human, almost Victorian gender roles (albeit not fashion sense) this chapter, with women being placed on pedestals but mostly locked out of real power save that which they can get by manipulating the men in their lives… Faerunian elves, whatever their other faults, are almost always depicted as being very egalitarian about gender, and in this book alone we’ve thus far had multiple major houses ruled by matriarchs with absolutely no indication this is out of the ordinary (and one of those had a brother, so it’s not like succession only goes to women if there are no male heirs). Otherwise, this chapter was basically three loosely connected chunks. The first mostly couldn’t seem to decide if the gathered elven ladies were astute political observers who see truths their menfolk refuse to and plan accordingly, or a bunch of upper-class twits whose idea of activism consists entirely of finding new ways to get drunk and have more sex. The second part mostly served to stroke Elminster’s ego some more – one of the oldest, most powerful mages in the world wants him to teach her! And then the sorceresses at the end mostly seem to be acting out Linkara’s impression of the Monitors from Countdown – “Should we do something?” “We should do something!” “Should we do something?” ad infinitum. Also, spoilers, but they’re entirely wrong about the political situation. Of the younger houses Sylmae thinks are the real threat, only the Auglamyr are actually important – most of the others aren’t even mentioned again after this scene. The book’s real villains belong to, drum roll, the Starym, who they’ve dismissed as staid and predictable. Great job, everyone! Anyway, next time, assassins strike and an important new character (who I personally think Greenwood bafflingly mishandles) is introduced. Well see you then!
I’m also partway through my reread and commentary on the (in)famous epic Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfic Embers which can be found here if you’re interested!