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masterghandalfThis is a repost from Das_sporking2. Previous installments of this sporking may be found here.
Warning: This chapter contains discussion of Elminster and Farl's "prank" on Shandathe from Making of a Mage.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Elminster in Myth Drannor! Last time, some elven noblewomen gossiped, Elminster and the Srinshee were remarkably unconcerned about ghosts, and the Coronal’s mages discussed politics and maybe doing something at some point. Today, we meet perhaps the most wasted character in the book, which is saying something. Joining us once again will be Calassara and Mira!
Chapter Eight: The Uses of a Human
Calassara: Well, I can think of some uses for humans *waggles her eyebrows suggestively* Ahem, moving on. Our quote is once again from the gossip rag (excuse me, the Informal But True History of Cormanthor) for this chapter. The elves of Cormanthor have always been known for their calm, measured responses to perceived threats. They often consider for half a day or more before going out and killing them. *beat* Well, by the standards of Greenwood’s characters, that almost does count as calm and measured! We open with someone named Symrustar bragging about the beauty of her pet fish to Amaranthae, her coz. Amaranthae, for her part, hates fish, but has resigned herself to the fact that Symrustar will never realize this. Symrustar, by the way, has over a thousand fish (I think someone might be slightly obsessed…) which she exclusively feeds herself, using a recipe of her own devising; Amaranthae had heard it said that its chief ingredients were the ground flesh, blood, and bones of unsuccessful suitors. *looking faintly green* Well, that’s one way to get rid of unwanted attentions, I suppose. And the fish will dispose of the evidence for you, too! And it’s sad that based on some of the comments from earlier in this book, and last chapter in particular, I have no idea if this is meant to be a joke. Symrustar has dozens of fish tanks, apparently, that are made to resemble various creatures. Amaranthae wanted to be around—but not too close—on the day Symrustar’s father discovered that a certain large tank, out near the end of the branch, resembled him in all-too-unflattering detail. Hmmm; I don’t know whether to applaud Symrustar’s creativity, or just be confused at her apparent fish fixation. Lord Auglamyr was not known for his gentle temper. “A thundercloud of towering pride, sweeping all before it” was the way one senior lady of the court had once described him, and her words had been overgentle. *sympathetically* Yes, I’ve known men like that, too. I prefer to stay well away from them.
Anyway, Amaranthae wonders if Symrustar gets her utterly amoral ruthlessness from her father, and even though she’s Symrustar’s best friend she’s always very careful to stay on her good side, lest she betray her and cast her away the moment it’s convenient. I’m no more free than all these fish, Amaranthae thought, leaning out from the bowl-shaped bower where they sat, at the base of the longest branch left in this westernmost shadowtop of House Auglamyr. Pipe after column after sphere of glass gleamed back the morning light, in the fantastic assemblage that housed Symrustar’s finned pets. The servants knew better than to disturb them—or rather, Symrustar—here, and used the speaking chimes instead. I’d feel pity for Amaranthae’s predicament, but I’m mostly just boggling. “Overdetailed descriptions of fish tanks” was not where I thought this chapter would be going! Apparently, Symrustar and Amaranthae meet here every morning, where Symrustar schemes out loud using Amaranthae as a sounding board, and Amaranthae offers commentary and support at exactly the right moments. And this morning, Symrustar is visibly excited while she feeds her fish. By all the gods, but she’s beautiful, Amaranthae thought, staring at her cousin’s fine shoulders and the long, smoothly curving lines of her body in its silk robe. A striking eyes and face, even among the beauties of the court. No wonder so many elven lords straightened their ears at the sight of her. *sing-song* I think somebody has a crush on her cousin! *back in her normal speaking voice* Also, I have a feeling “ears” here are a euphemism for another, rather lower body part… Or maybe not, I’ve given up trying to make sense of how Greenwood thinks elves work. Symrustar asks if Amaranthae is thinking the same thing she is, and Amaranthae says she’s been thinking about the human who just got named armathor, and wondering what you’d do with this most unlikely of surprises, most sprightly of ladies! Most… sprightly? Does… does Greenwood think elves – or anyone – actually talk like that!?
MG: Honestly, I can’t help but imagine Amaranthae and Symrustar as Pinky and the Brain after that little exchange. “Amaranthae, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” “I think so, Symrustar, but how can you feed Elminster to your fish if he’s got lots of other books he’s supposed to be starring in?”
Mira: …I am going to pretend I understood that and move on. Symrustar wonders what Elminster is like in bed (of course that’s where that conversation went…) and Amaranthae is disgusted. “A man? Ughhh. As heavy and lumbering as a stag, with the stink to match … and all that hair!” Well, when you put it that way, it doesn’t’ sound very appealing does it? Though clearly someone is interested in it, or people like me wouldn’t exist…
Calassara: Just popping in to confirm that yes, there are elves who like that sort of thing. And also, Greenwood, you’re not making it sound less like Amaranthae is into Symrustar, with that kind of talk about men…
Mira: Symrustar agrees but thinks that the unwashed brute (if what I’ve heard about Elminster’s later hygiene is true… she’s not wrong...) has powerful magic, inferior to that of the elves but also different. If Symrustar learned it, she could use it to surprise some of her rivals, one in particular – Lord Heir Most High Elandoor Waelvor. Amaranthae thinks that Symrustar has done enough to him, but Symrustar doesn’t agree. Enough? There is no ‘enough’ for Elandorr the Buffoon! When he’s not grandly proclaiming to all the city that this or that spell he’s created is greater than anything that bad-tempered maid Symrustar Auglamyr can craft, he’s crawling into my bedchamber window with fresh blandishments! No matter how often Symrustar refuses him he’s back a few nights later trying it again! In between, he hints to his drinking companions of the unmatched sweetness of my charms, remarks to ladies in passing that I worship him in secret, and flits about the libraries of men – men – stealing bad love poetry to pass off as his own, wooing me with all the style and grace of a laugh-chasing gnome clown! *take aback* Well, I think we’re meant to see Symrustar as shallow and judgmental, but in all honesty – that sounds unbearable. Such behavior wouldn’t be tolerated in the guilds, and in this alone, I support her thoroughly. Apparently, he showed up last night and Symrustar had her guards throw him out, so he tried to cast transforming spells on them. Symrustar was so disgusted with their performance that she left them as frogs until morning – ah, that does seem rather more unreasonable. Amaranthae reproaches her, and Symrustar says she wouldn’t be as charitable if Elandorr was pestering her, and I have to agree. I’m not… terribly experienced in romance, but a man who so clearly refuses to take a hint does not sound like an agreeable partner!
Amaranthae protests that Elandorr is a master mage (and that is relevant… how?) and Symrustar vows to outfit her guards with magic-resistant amulets and force them to wear them. Apparently, she once caught one of her guards hiding and watching, hoping to see her swoon in the arms of Elandorr and by Nemorga, why? He claimed he just wanted to protect her, but was lying atop her bed’s canopy, dressed entirely in silk, festooned with amulets to protect him against magical detection, some of which she suspects Elandorr himself gave him. Amaranthae asks what she did to him, and apparently the composition of the fish food was not entirely a joke, as she showed him what he’d been trying to see, took off every last thing he was wearing, too, and – the fish. The next morning she sent his empty clothes back to Elandorr with a note warning him this was all that was left of the last man who’d tried to woo her. And, of course, he came back that night. I think he either has a death wish, or possibly a deep-seated desire to be eaten by fish. And is it really too much to ask for there to be a single likable person in this book? Amaranthae asks why she doesn’t just tell her father, who’d tell Elandorr’s father, who’d be mortified that his son was interested in a girl from an upstart house like Auglamyr and put a stop to it at once. Symrustar doesn’t think that would be fun. *she buries her face in her hands* All of these people are horrible. And possibly masochistic. The two of them laugh and turn to drinking dawnberry cordial, whatever that is, and discussing their plans for Elminster. Oh, and Symrustar is stretching her magnificent body and rings chimes for her servants with her glass held in her toes, just so we’re reminded who is writing this book. Amaranthae, meanwhile, is disturbed by Symrustar’s tone. It sounded somehow hungry.
Calassara: Well, whatever she’s planning will have to wait, as we cut to another elf, Taeglyn, as he tells a companion that he doesn’t want to be in Elminster’s shoes tonight, no matter how powerful a mage he is. Said companion, Delmuth, says it’s really the Coronal he’s after. Taeglyn, it happens, is a servant, and he’s busy sorting gems for Delmuth as he works on his life’s work – a jeweled star map on the ceiling, which sounds like it could either be lovely or unbearably gaudy, and considering what Cormanthor is like, I’m betting on the latter. Part of the map is almost complete, and Taeglyn is trying to get Delmuth to focus on that instead. But Delmuth – who it seems belongs to House Echorn, the allies of the Starym who’ve been mentioned a few times - just wants to kill Elminster and discredit the Coronal. If we let this go unchallenged, we’ll have them in here by the thousands, a sea of rabble around our ankles, begging or threatening us whenever we go out, and despoiling the forest as fast as they so ably know how! …Why, if they could touch the stars… we’d have found one or two missing by now! Well, that’s certainly… bigoted. I have a sneaking suspicion we’re not supposed to like Delmuth (also, I think he’s significantly overestimating the capacities of humans; at least in my world, the greatest of human empires perished when a star – or rather, the Starstone – fell on them). Delmuth continues ranting about how the Coronal has gone mad, and if nobody else will do anything about it, he will. Charming man. He storms out of the chamber, startling his uncle outside, who tells him there’s no hunt called and wonders what all the noise is for. Delmuth tells him he’s not going hunting, I’m out to cleanse the realm of a human. So… he’s just admitting the crime openly, then? Delmuth’s uncle tells him that the law demands duels be formally declared, and Delmuth says he’s going to kill one who is vermin, not to fight a duel. *brightly* So, going up against Elminster with that attitude – who wants to take bets on how long he’ll last? Two silver pieces he dies next chapter! Delmuth literally throws his sword into the air, sends it flying outside, runs after it and grabs it, apparently for no reason at all but dramatics (not that I disapprove of dramatics, but… time and place). His uncle insists he’s making a mistake, but Delmuth ignores him, leaving his silent uncle and a weeping servant behind him. *beat* Oh, he is absolutely dead.
We cut to an elf in black leathers – my, my – as he somersaults through the air, tosses his sword into a tree-trunk, and then leaps over and grabs it out. *beat* Is he practicing for some act? If not, I’m very confused. He cackles about how a cat has certainly been set loose among all the sleepy doves at court this time! His friend, Galan warns Athtar that they’ve probably heard him down by the sea, all while counting out beads that apparently represent all the debts he owes. He needs to find a way to pay them back soon, or he may have to leave Toril for a while for his own safety. Excuse me, but… Toril is the planet, correct? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of plane-hopping just to avoid one’s creditors before. Well, he doesn’t do things by half-measures, at least… Galan is so busy with this that he’s not heard the big news, until Galan enlightens him… sort of. The Coronal has found a human somewhere, brought him to court, and named him his heir and an armathor of the realm! Our next Coronal is going to be a man! …honestly, I’m a little surprised Greenwood didn’t have the Coronal adopt Elminster as his heir! Galan thinks this is nonsense, and wonders where the Coronal would even find a human (ah, I have it on good authority – namely, my own two eyes – that humans are rather inexplicably fond of large, crowded cities. Finding one isn’t hard). Galan can’t believe that Athtar is distracting him from his important business with this nonsense, since the Coronal would never name a human armathor even if he did find one. The other nobles wouldn’t stand for it, and Athtar protests that in fact they’re not. Athtar gets so excited he sends all of Galan’s beads flying, and Galan is so furious he literally grabs him by the throat. *beat* Ah, before one of these people strangles the other – who are they, again, and why should we care? Just curious. Athtar wryly comments about how intense Galan is (he’s taking this remarkably well…) so Galan lets him go. He thinks they’re both going to be dead before too long anyway, so why does it matter if the new Coronal is a human or not? Athtar tells him that the nobles will never let a human be Coronal at all and will tear the realm apart first. By the team they’re through, even nobodies like the two of them might have a chance at power. Ah, so that’s where they come into things… I think. Galan thinks it won’t get that far, but Athtar still thinks it’s their best chance to break the old guard’s stranglehold on Cormanthor. They can settle scores with the old houses like the Starym and Echorn, and maybe take out some of Galan’s creditors too. Galan finally decides that sounds interesting, and tells Athtar they have to talk as the scene ends.
Mira: And so, we cut, finally, to Elminster himself, as he hears a woman’s voice in his mind calling for aid. He thinks it reminds him of Shandathe – and then he starts reminiscing about how he carried her into the bedroom of a certain baker, to find unintended bliss, and later tested the mind powers Mystra had honed in him by eavesdropping on… Why. That may have been the most horrible plot point (among many) in the previous book – why are we revisiting it! And we officially confirm that Elminster had no idea Shandathe and Hannibur would fall in love when he did it, which makes it even worse than it already was! And apparently, he magically spied on her afterwards, too! Why!? *she clutches her scarf desperately* I don’t want to do this anymore… well, Elminster wakes up and realizes he and the Srinshee have fallen asleep after studying all night through (I thought Elminster didn’t need to sleep? Or did he just choose to anyway?). He wonders if the ghosts in the tower are playing tricks on him (Elminster… you are sleeping in a haunted tower, and you are not a trained necromancer. You are absolutely at their mercy, and I am truly amazed you lived through the night). The voice calls to him again, and he tries to follow it back to its source. His mind is pulled across Faerun to a vision where a woman was spread-eagled face down on that rock, wrists and ankles bound apart on saplings, her features hidden by the swirl of her unbound hair… the woman could be Shandathe. Oh, hasn’t the poor woman suffered enough? But Elminster decides that the vision is a trap (how sure are you about that? If you’re wrong, it sounds like maybe-Shandathe is about to be sacrificed to someone…) and returns to the tower, though keeping the vision in his mind. He takes a crystal from the Srinshee and returns to the vision, only for the woman to disappear like smoke. Trap it is, then. Elminster calls to mind a combat spell he’s prepared and waits for the attack as the scene ends.
We cut to the Srinshee sitting up, amazed that Elminster has found his first opponents so soon. She calls up a vision of him, hoping it won’t be to witness his death (I, ah, don’t think that will happen any time soon… unfortunately…) since he’s her friend, and apparently Cormanthor’s future depends on him, because of course it does. *sigh* She recognizes the site of the trap and decides nobody but a Cormanthan mage would use it as a place for a duel. She sees Elminster and recognizes what the bound “woman” really is, but the scene ends before she reveals it to us. We cut back to Elminster, watching the illusion dissipate (I thought it already had?) as he studies his surroundings. In the distance he hears someone laughing, as the illusion breaks apart completely to reveal a long, wavy-bladed boar sword floating in midair under its own power. Knowing what is about to kill you doesn’t always make it easier to evade the waiting death, a philosopher – dead now – among the outlaws of Athalantar had once said. True, but… oftentimes it helps? One would think a wizard would appreciate the idea that knowledge is power – in my city, we certainly do! Elminster wonders what spell will best serve against this thing, and finally decides on something called Mystra’s unraveling that he’s loathe to use. But he’s not given a choice, as the sword shoots towards him and Elminster casts his spell. The swift-flying sword shivered and fell apart in the air in front of him. Green radiance sputtered, tumbled away, and was gone as the blade became falling flakes of dust. Dust kissed Elminster’s face as it rushed past… and then nothing at all. Well, that was sudden – though not unexpected, considering Elminster’s past record. I wonder if the main villains of this book, whoever they may be, will be any more difficult to defeat than the magelords? I doubt it, but you never know! Elminster hears a voice cursing him by Corellon and demanding to know what he did – I think that’s obvious? A young elf-lord with white hair and red eyes comes leaping out of the forest, magical flames around his arms. As he charges, Elminster calls up an image of himself destroying the sword and asks is this elven humor, or some sort of trick question? Ah, Greenwood? How am I supposed to take this fight seriously when Elminster himself clearly is not? But the elf leaps forward, shooting fire from his hands, and the chapter ends there.
MG: And so, this chapter basically sets the tone for what we’ll be doing over most of the next few chapters of the book – Elminster running a proverbial gauntlet of homicidal elf lords (and the occasional lady). Yes, really. As it is, most of the chapter seemed to serve, apart from the bizarre reminder of one of the most inexplicable and awful things in the previous book, to introduce a bunch of more unlikable players in Cormanthan politics. The character with wasted potential who I’ve referenced before, by the way, is Symrustar. I’m not quite sure what to make of her early showing here (the fish-feeding is… a bit much, and while Greenwood seems to think her “game” with Elandorr is a mix of petty and amusing, the fact remains that this woman is apparently being constantly harassed by a man whose attentions she does not want and who won’t go away) but Greenwood does ultimately seem like he’ll be trying to set her up as a foil and rival for Elminster, only to absolutely drop the ball on what could have been a somewhat interesting character arc in a remarkably mishandled fashion. Also, as her part this chapter shows, the book seems unable to decide if she’s an antagonist but still someone we should have some sympathies for, a selfish, amoral rich girl and not much more, or an out-and-out psychopath who does things like feed people to her pets for annoying her, which isn’t going to help matters. But… we’ll get to that more in coming chapters. Next time, Elminster fights Delmuth, and the Srinshee receives a gift. We’ll see you then!
Warning: This chapter contains discussion of Elminster and Farl's "prank" on Shandathe from Making of a Mage.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Elminster in Myth Drannor! Last time, some elven noblewomen gossiped, Elminster and the Srinshee were remarkably unconcerned about ghosts, and the Coronal’s mages discussed politics and maybe doing something at some point. Today, we meet perhaps the most wasted character in the book, which is saying something. Joining us once again will be Calassara and Mira!
Chapter Eight: The Uses of a Human
Calassara: Well, I can think of some uses for humans *waggles her eyebrows suggestively* Ahem, moving on. Our quote is once again from the gossip rag (excuse me, the Informal But True History of Cormanthor) for this chapter. The elves of Cormanthor have always been known for their calm, measured responses to perceived threats. They often consider for half a day or more before going out and killing them. *beat* Well, by the standards of Greenwood’s characters, that almost does count as calm and measured! We open with someone named Symrustar bragging about the beauty of her pet fish to Amaranthae, her coz. Amaranthae, for her part, hates fish, but has resigned herself to the fact that Symrustar will never realize this. Symrustar, by the way, has over a thousand fish (I think someone might be slightly obsessed…) which she exclusively feeds herself, using a recipe of her own devising; Amaranthae had heard it said that its chief ingredients were the ground flesh, blood, and bones of unsuccessful suitors. *looking faintly green* Well, that’s one way to get rid of unwanted attentions, I suppose. And the fish will dispose of the evidence for you, too! And it’s sad that based on some of the comments from earlier in this book, and last chapter in particular, I have no idea if this is meant to be a joke. Symrustar has dozens of fish tanks, apparently, that are made to resemble various creatures. Amaranthae wanted to be around—but not too close—on the day Symrustar’s father discovered that a certain large tank, out near the end of the branch, resembled him in all-too-unflattering detail. Hmmm; I don’t know whether to applaud Symrustar’s creativity, or just be confused at her apparent fish fixation. Lord Auglamyr was not known for his gentle temper. “A thundercloud of towering pride, sweeping all before it” was the way one senior lady of the court had once described him, and her words had been overgentle. *sympathetically* Yes, I’ve known men like that, too. I prefer to stay well away from them.
Anyway, Amaranthae wonders if Symrustar gets her utterly amoral ruthlessness from her father, and even though she’s Symrustar’s best friend she’s always very careful to stay on her good side, lest she betray her and cast her away the moment it’s convenient. I’m no more free than all these fish, Amaranthae thought, leaning out from the bowl-shaped bower where they sat, at the base of the longest branch left in this westernmost shadowtop of House Auglamyr. Pipe after column after sphere of glass gleamed back the morning light, in the fantastic assemblage that housed Symrustar’s finned pets. The servants knew better than to disturb them—or rather, Symrustar—here, and used the speaking chimes instead. I’d feel pity for Amaranthae’s predicament, but I’m mostly just boggling. “Overdetailed descriptions of fish tanks” was not where I thought this chapter would be going! Apparently, Symrustar and Amaranthae meet here every morning, where Symrustar schemes out loud using Amaranthae as a sounding board, and Amaranthae offers commentary and support at exactly the right moments. And this morning, Symrustar is visibly excited while she feeds her fish. By all the gods, but she’s beautiful, Amaranthae thought, staring at her cousin’s fine shoulders and the long, smoothly curving lines of her body in its silk robe. A striking eyes and face, even among the beauties of the court. No wonder so many elven lords straightened their ears at the sight of her. *sing-song* I think somebody has a crush on her cousin! *back in her normal speaking voice* Also, I have a feeling “ears” here are a euphemism for another, rather lower body part… Or maybe not, I’ve given up trying to make sense of how Greenwood thinks elves work. Symrustar asks if Amaranthae is thinking the same thing she is, and Amaranthae says she’s been thinking about the human who just got named armathor, and wondering what you’d do with this most unlikely of surprises, most sprightly of ladies! Most… sprightly? Does… does Greenwood think elves – or anyone – actually talk like that!?
MG: Honestly, I can’t help but imagine Amaranthae and Symrustar as Pinky and the Brain after that little exchange. “Amaranthae, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” “I think so, Symrustar, but how can you feed Elminster to your fish if he’s got lots of other books he’s supposed to be starring in?”
Mira: …I am going to pretend I understood that and move on. Symrustar wonders what Elminster is like in bed (of course that’s where that conversation went…) and Amaranthae is disgusted. “A man? Ughhh. As heavy and lumbering as a stag, with the stink to match … and all that hair!” Well, when you put it that way, it doesn’t’ sound very appealing does it? Though clearly someone is interested in it, or people like me wouldn’t exist…
Calassara: Just popping in to confirm that yes, there are elves who like that sort of thing. And also, Greenwood, you’re not making it sound less like Amaranthae is into Symrustar, with that kind of talk about men…
Mira: Symrustar agrees but thinks that the unwashed brute (if what I’ve heard about Elminster’s later hygiene is true… she’s not wrong...) has powerful magic, inferior to that of the elves but also different. If Symrustar learned it, she could use it to surprise some of her rivals, one in particular – Lord Heir Most High Elandoor Waelvor. Amaranthae thinks that Symrustar has done enough to him, but Symrustar doesn’t agree. Enough? There is no ‘enough’ for Elandorr the Buffoon! When he’s not grandly proclaiming to all the city that this or that spell he’s created is greater than anything that bad-tempered maid Symrustar Auglamyr can craft, he’s crawling into my bedchamber window with fresh blandishments! No matter how often Symrustar refuses him he’s back a few nights later trying it again! In between, he hints to his drinking companions of the unmatched sweetness of my charms, remarks to ladies in passing that I worship him in secret, and flits about the libraries of men – men – stealing bad love poetry to pass off as his own, wooing me with all the style and grace of a laugh-chasing gnome clown! *take aback* Well, I think we’re meant to see Symrustar as shallow and judgmental, but in all honesty – that sounds unbearable. Such behavior wouldn’t be tolerated in the guilds, and in this alone, I support her thoroughly. Apparently, he showed up last night and Symrustar had her guards throw him out, so he tried to cast transforming spells on them. Symrustar was so disgusted with their performance that she left them as frogs until morning – ah, that does seem rather more unreasonable. Amaranthae reproaches her, and Symrustar says she wouldn’t be as charitable if Elandorr was pestering her, and I have to agree. I’m not… terribly experienced in romance, but a man who so clearly refuses to take a hint does not sound like an agreeable partner!
Amaranthae protests that Elandorr is a master mage (and that is relevant… how?) and Symrustar vows to outfit her guards with magic-resistant amulets and force them to wear them. Apparently, she once caught one of her guards hiding and watching, hoping to see her swoon in the arms of Elandorr and by Nemorga, why? He claimed he just wanted to protect her, but was lying atop her bed’s canopy, dressed entirely in silk, festooned with amulets to protect him against magical detection, some of which she suspects Elandorr himself gave him. Amaranthae asks what she did to him, and apparently the composition of the fish food was not entirely a joke, as she showed him what he’d been trying to see, took off every last thing he was wearing, too, and – the fish. The next morning she sent his empty clothes back to Elandorr with a note warning him this was all that was left of the last man who’d tried to woo her. And, of course, he came back that night. I think he either has a death wish, or possibly a deep-seated desire to be eaten by fish. And is it really too much to ask for there to be a single likable person in this book? Amaranthae asks why she doesn’t just tell her father, who’d tell Elandorr’s father, who’d be mortified that his son was interested in a girl from an upstart house like Auglamyr and put a stop to it at once. Symrustar doesn’t think that would be fun. *she buries her face in her hands* All of these people are horrible. And possibly masochistic. The two of them laugh and turn to drinking dawnberry cordial, whatever that is, and discussing their plans for Elminster. Oh, and Symrustar is stretching her magnificent body and rings chimes for her servants with her glass held in her toes, just so we’re reminded who is writing this book. Amaranthae, meanwhile, is disturbed by Symrustar’s tone. It sounded somehow hungry.
Calassara: Well, whatever she’s planning will have to wait, as we cut to another elf, Taeglyn, as he tells a companion that he doesn’t want to be in Elminster’s shoes tonight, no matter how powerful a mage he is. Said companion, Delmuth, says it’s really the Coronal he’s after. Taeglyn, it happens, is a servant, and he’s busy sorting gems for Delmuth as he works on his life’s work – a jeweled star map on the ceiling, which sounds like it could either be lovely or unbearably gaudy, and considering what Cormanthor is like, I’m betting on the latter. Part of the map is almost complete, and Taeglyn is trying to get Delmuth to focus on that instead. But Delmuth – who it seems belongs to House Echorn, the allies of the Starym who’ve been mentioned a few times - just wants to kill Elminster and discredit the Coronal. If we let this go unchallenged, we’ll have them in here by the thousands, a sea of rabble around our ankles, begging or threatening us whenever we go out, and despoiling the forest as fast as they so ably know how! …Why, if they could touch the stars… we’d have found one or two missing by now! Well, that’s certainly… bigoted. I have a sneaking suspicion we’re not supposed to like Delmuth (also, I think he’s significantly overestimating the capacities of humans; at least in my world, the greatest of human empires perished when a star – or rather, the Starstone – fell on them). Delmuth continues ranting about how the Coronal has gone mad, and if nobody else will do anything about it, he will. Charming man. He storms out of the chamber, startling his uncle outside, who tells him there’s no hunt called and wonders what all the noise is for. Delmuth tells him he’s not going hunting, I’m out to cleanse the realm of a human. So… he’s just admitting the crime openly, then? Delmuth’s uncle tells him that the law demands duels be formally declared, and Delmuth says he’s going to kill one who is vermin, not to fight a duel. *brightly* So, going up against Elminster with that attitude – who wants to take bets on how long he’ll last? Two silver pieces he dies next chapter! Delmuth literally throws his sword into the air, sends it flying outside, runs after it and grabs it, apparently for no reason at all but dramatics (not that I disapprove of dramatics, but… time and place). His uncle insists he’s making a mistake, but Delmuth ignores him, leaving his silent uncle and a weeping servant behind him. *beat* Oh, he is absolutely dead.
We cut to an elf in black leathers – my, my – as he somersaults through the air, tosses his sword into a tree-trunk, and then leaps over and grabs it out. *beat* Is he practicing for some act? If not, I’m very confused. He cackles about how a cat has certainly been set loose among all the sleepy doves at court this time! His friend, Galan warns Athtar that they’ve probably heard him down by the sea, all while counting out beads that apparently represent all the debts he owes. He needs to find a way to pay them back soon, or he may have to leave Toril for a while for his own safety. Excuse me, but… Toril is the planet, correct? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of plane-hopping just to avoid one’s creditors before. Well, he doesn’t do things by half-measures, at least… Galan is so busy with this that he’s not heard the big news, until Galan enlightens him… sort of. The Coronal has found a human somewhere, brought him to court, and named him his heir and an armathor of the realm! Our next Coronal is going to be a man! …honestly, I’m a little surprised Greenwood didn’t have the Coronal adopt Elminster as his heir! Galan thinks this is nonsense, and wonders where the Coronal would even find a human (ah, I have it on good authority – namely, my own two eyes – that humans are rather inexplicably fond of large, crowded cities. Finding one isn’t hard). Galan can’t believe that Athtar is distracting him from his important business with this nonsense, since the Coronal would never name a human armathor even if he did find one. The other nobles wouldn’t stand for it, and Athtar protests that in fact they’re not. Athtar gets so excited he sends all of Galan’s beads flying, and Galan is so furious he literally grabs him by the throat. *beat* Ah, before one of these people strangles the other – who are they, again, and why should we care? Just curious. Athtar wryly comments about how intense Galan is (he’s taking this remarkably well…) so Galan lets him go. He thinks they’re both going to be dead before too long anyway, so why does it matter if the new Coronal is a human or not? Athtar tells him that the nobles will never let a human be Coronal at all and will tear the realm apart first. By the team they’re through, even nobodies like the two of them might have a chance at power. Ah, so that’s where they come into things… I think. Galan thinks it won’t get that far, but Athtar still thinks it’s their best chance to break the old guard’s stranglehold on Cormanthor. They can settle scores with the old houses like the Starym and Echorn, and maybe take out some of Galan’s creditors too. Galan finally decides that sounds interesting, and tells Athtar they have to talk as the scene ends.
Mira: And so, we cut, finally, to Elminster himself, as he hears a woman’s voice in his mind calling for aid. He thinks it reminds him of Shandathe – and then he starts reminiscing about how he carried her into the bedroom of a certain baker, to find unintended bliss, and later tested the mind powers Mystra had honed in him by eavesdropping on… Why. That may have been the most horrible plot point (among many) in the previous book – why are we revisiting it! And we officially confirm that Elminster had no idea Shandathe and Hannibur would fall in love when he did it, which makes it even worse than it already was! And apparently, he magically spied on her afterwards, too! Why!? *she clutches her scarf desperately* I don’t want to do this anymore… well, Elminster wakes up and realizes he and the Srinshee have fallen asleep after studying all night through (I thought Elminster didn’t need to sleep? Or did he just choose to anyway?). He wonders if the ghosts in the tower are playing tricks on him (Elminster… you are sleeping in a haunted tower, and you are not a trained necromancer. You are absolutely at their mercy, and I am truly amazed you lived through the night). The voice calls to him again, and he tries to follow it back to its source. His mind is pulled across Faerun to a vision where a woman was spread-eagled face down on that rock, wrists and ankles bound apart on saplings, her features hidden by the swirl of her unbound hair… the woman could be Shandathe. Oh, hasn’t the poor woman suffered enough? But Elminster decides that the vision is a trap (how sure are you about that? If you’re wrong, it sounds like maybe-Shandathe is about to be sacrificed to someone…) and returns to the tower, though keeping the vision in his mind. He takes a crystal from the Srinshee and returns to the vision, only for the woman to disappear like smoke. Trap it is, then. Elminster calls to mind a combat spell he’s prepared and waits for the attack as the scene ends.
We cut to the Srinshee sitting up, amazed that Elminster has found his first opponents so soon. She calls up a vision of him, hoping it won’t be to witness his death (I, ah, don’t think that will happen any time soon… unfortunately…) since he’s her friend, and apparently Cormanthor’s future depends on him, because of course it does. *sigh* She recognizes the site of the trap and decides nobody but a Cormanthan mage would use it as a place for a duel. She sees Elminster and recognizes what the bound “woman” really is, but the scene ends before she reveals it to us. We cut back to Elminster, watching the illusion dissipate (I thought it already had?) as he studies his surroundings. In the distance he hears someone laughing, as the illusion breaks apart completely to reveal a long, wavy-bladed boar sword floating in midair under its own power. Knowing what is about to kill you doesn’t always make it easier to evade the waiting death, a philosopher – dead now – among the outlaws of Athalantar had once said. True, but… oftentimes it helps? One would think a wizard would appreciate the idea that knowledge is power – in my city, we certainly do! Elminster wonders what spell will best serve against this thing, and finally decides on something called Mystra’s unraveling that he’s loathe to use. But he’s not given a choice, as the sword shoots towards him and Elminster casts his spell. The swift-flying sword shivered and fell apart in the air in front of him. Green radiance sputtered, tumbled away, and was gone as the blade became falling flakes of dust. Dust kissed Elminster’s face as it rushed past… and then nothing at all. Well, that was sudden – though not unexpected, considering Elminster’s past record. I wonder if the main villains of this book, whoever they may be, will be any more difficult to defeat than the magelords? I doubt it, but you never know! Elminster hears a voice cursing him by Corellon and demanding to know what he did – I think that’s obvious? A young elf-lord with white hair and red eyes comes leaping out of the forest, magical flames around his arms. As he charges, Elminster calls up an image of himself destroying the sword and asks is this elven humor, or some sort of trick question? Ah, Greenwood? How am I supposed to take this fight seriously when Elminster himself clearly is not? But the elf leaps forward, shooting fire from his hands, and the chapter ends there.
MG: And so, this chapter basically sets the tone for what we’ll be doing over most of the next few chapters of the book – Elminster running a proverbial gauntlet of homicidal elf lords (and the occasional lady). Yes, really. As it is, most of the chapter seemed to serve, apart from the bizarre reminder of one of the most inexplicable and awful things in the previous book, to introduce a bunch of more unlikable players in Cormanthan politics. The character with wasted potential who I’ve referenced before, by the way, is Symrustar. I’m not quite sure what to make of her early showing here (the fish-feeding is… a bit much, and while Greenwood seems to think her “game” with Elandorr is a mix of petty and amusing, the fact remains that this woman is apparently being constantly harassed by a man whose attentions she does not want and who won’t go away) but Greenwood does ultimately seem like he’ll be trying to set her up as a foil and rival for Elminster, only to absolutely drop the ball on what could have been a somewhat interesting character arc in a remarkably mishandled fashion. Also, as her part this chapter shows, the book seems unable to decide if she’s an antagonist but still someone we should have some sympathies for, a selfish, amoral rich girl and not much more, or an out-and-out psychopath who does things like feed people to her pets for annoying her, which isn’t going to help matters. But… we’ll get to that more in coming chapters. Next time, Elminster fights Delmuth, and the Srinshee receives a gift. We’ll see you then!
