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masterghandalfThis is a repost from Das_sporking2. Previous installments of this sporking may be found here.
Warning: This chapter contains violence, deaths, and a potentially transphobic plot point.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Elminster in Myth Drannor! Last time, The Masked revealed his true identity as some guy we’d heard of once before, framed Elminster for murder, the people he’d allegedly murdered turned up alive (including Nacacia… somehow…) and The Masked and the Starym launched a coup. Whew. Today, in the book’s last proper chapter, it’s time for the battle for Cormanthor. Joining us once again will be Calassara and Mira!
Chapter Twenty: Spellstorm at Court
Calassara: *flatly* Yay. Well, today we’re back to having our opening quote from the gossip rag, one last time, so let’s see how that goes, shall we? And so it was that a spellstorm was unleashed in the court of Cormanthor that day. A true spellstorm is a fearful thing, one of the most terrible dooms one can behold, even if one lives to remember it. Yet some among our People held far more hatred and fear in their hearts for what happened after the spellstorm blew apart. Which was… what, exactly? Don’t leave us hanging like that, Greenwood! Also, I remember the spellstorms Shandril caused, and so for once I have to agree with the gossip rag’s description *she shudders*. Let’s see how this one measures up, shall we?
So, last chapter ended with the Srinshee’s arrival, and that’s where this one picks up! Sudden light kindled in the darkness and the dust. Golden motes of light, drifting up from the open hand of a sorceress who seemed no more than an elf-child. *rolling her eyes* Yes, thank you for the reminder that this very elderly woman looks like a child now. I really needed that, Greenwood. And so, we find that the battle is no longer being lit only by the flashing of magic, but like a sunrise in the mourning, light returned to the battlefield. Oh, symbolic! *she applauds sarcastically* And the light illuminates that bodies lay strewn everywhere, and amid the risen dust, the sky could be seen faintly through the vaulted roof of the hall. Huge fragments of toppled pillar lay tumbled behind the floating throne, with dark rivers of blood creeping out from between some of them. Well, nice to see Greenwood hasn’t lost his touch for gruesome imagery, has he? We learn that around the court, battle is still raging between the Starym mages and the Coronal’s armathors, while the Srinshee is floating by the throne and trying to intercept the attackers’ most powerful spells. Elminster and Nacacia, meanwhile – remember them? Our ostensible hero and his new, miraculously alive love interest? – are still in each other’s arms but have pulled themselves to their feet and spotted that Llombaerth is up to something. The Masked was holding a stormsword conjured from elsewhere, purple lightnings of its own playing down the blade. His face no longer looked so desperate as he watched the Coronal hewing slowly through the Starym retainers gathered in front of their Lord Speaker. Oh, yes, the Coronal is killing your supporters, and the most powerful mage in the realm just arrived to help put down your coup! Nothing to worry about there! *she rolls her eyes*
Mira: Well, Llombaerth’s gaze then falls on his apprentices and he narrows his eyes, which sounds rather ominous. He gestures at Elminster, who shouts no! as he’s jerked out of Nacacia’s arms and finds himself forced to begin a spell. He cries out Nacacia! Help me! Stop me! And oh, right, the spell Llombaerth was using to control Elminster is still in effect, isn’t it? If only your goddess hadn’t told you how to break that spell and free yourself twenty years ago and somehow you just forgot about it… But that would just be silly! Llombaerth roots around in Elminster’s mind for the spells he’s prepared, finds one, and casts it; it turns out this is a spell to teleport swords specifically (which seems like a sort of cousin to Greenwood’s favorite standby, the flying swords…) and Llombaerth wants to use it it to stab through the throat and breast and belly of the Srinshee. That… sounds rather horrible, but I’d also think the Srinshee might have protected herself from that? Meanwhile, the battle still rages as more elves join in, using the cover of the coup to settle old scores (…why are we supposed to care at all about what happens to this society, again?). In fact, one old elf – so old that the skin of his ears was nearly transparent, how interesting – literally starts beating another old elf to death with a footstool. *stunned* Has… has the entire court of Cormanthor gone mad? Or were they always like this and finally just have a chance to let it out? Somehow, I suspect the latter…
We then learn that the dead elder’s brains spread over the slippers of a haughty lady in a blue gown, who doesn’t even notice because she’s too busy pulling hair, scratching and spitting with another lady (you know, I have to work with things most people would find disturbing fairly regularly – but I’d still notice if an old man’s brains were spilled onto my shoes!). There was blood on their nails as they slapped, kicked and flailed at each other in a panting fury. *flushing* Ah, Greenwood… is there something you’d like to tell us about the way you’re writing this scene? Finally, one of the women just grabs the other by the throat and starts strangling her. But while all this is going on, Elminster is still being compelled to begin his spell against the Srinshee. Nacacia, trying to stop it, attacks him, and El felt the thudding blows of her small fists but it’s not enough to ruin his spell (clearly, she’s not strong enough to manage that because she’s a girl – at least that’s what Greenwood seems to think! Also, isn’t it a bit strange that The Masked doesn’t seem to have thought to but the same spell he used on Elminster on Nacacia – she was his slave too!). Elminster’s hands are still being compelled to take out the components he needs for the spell, and he finally manages to tell Nacacia Knock me down! Push me against the floor! I need it – do it! What do you think she’s been trying to do? *she flushes again* And, ah, Elminster – just why do you “need” to be tackled to the floor by your love interest? In public, too! But Nacacia launches into a desperate, clumsy tackle – why did we have to specify that it’s clumsy? – and manages to shove Elminster down, and she fought to keep on top of him, riding him as a farmer tries to hold down a struggling pig. *she flushes even deeper* That’s not quite what it sounds like to me…
Calassara: I’ll take over for a bit to save our good necromancer some embarrassment, if you don’t mind. Under Llombaerth’s control, Elminster keeps struggling, trying to throw Nacacia off, and then suddenly something pops into his mind. Ah! Aye! The golden symbol Mystra had put into his mind so long ago gleamed, wavering like a coin seen underwater. Then it shone steadily as he bent it to his will be capturing it. Now he remembers! And, what, did Elminster have to go fishing in his own mind for the symbol? That’s a new one! Llombaerth tries to keep Elminster focused on the Srinshee, but he manages to fight through it and as Nacacia shoves him down onto the stone – oh, my! - he cries out Mystra! And then his body shuddered, squirmed and… flowed. Huh, that’s… not how I’d have described that… but Elminster manages to tell Nacacia he’s free now and she can get off, and when she does she finds herself staring into the eyes of a human woman! *she sighs* And, there it is. Why do I have a sneaking suspicion Greenwood included this scene just so he could write about Elminster turning into a woman while another woman forcibly held him down? Well, Elminster says Call me Elmara, please! And Nacacia – in what I believe is her second whole line – asks if he’s still himself. Elminster/Elmara says sometimes I think so – well, I think I know who you are, and you’re kind of horrible – and the two of them embrace. They’re suddenly distracted by shouts of For the Starym! Starym risen! And stumble to their feet – stepping right over Alais’s body, rude – as more elves in Starym livery burst into the hall. Someone snaps an order at Nacacia and Elmara to guard Alais – who I guess is just unconscious, not dead – and keep the attackers off the Srinshee’s back. It’s Mythanthar, and the two of them immediately obey, with Elmara using the bladecall spell Llombaerth made Elminster prepare to stab the throats and faces of the lead attackers, while Nacacia actually does something for once and shoots lightning at them.
Meanwhile, the Srinshee has summoned a small army of ghostly elven warriors who don’t seem to be able to hurt anybody but have enough substance to block the Starym from advancing until they’ve destroyed them. Well, at least it didn’t involve gorily blowing people to bits, which is unusual for a Greenwood protagonist, I have to say – though El and Nacacia take the opportunity to pelt some of the Starym with magic missiles. Meanwhile, more elven nobles have arrived to see just what in the hells is going on; some of them immediately duck out and leave, but a few draw their weapons and charge in. Meanwhile, the Coronal is fighting for his life, slaughtering Starym courtiers like an angry lion. And the Starym are still throwing themselves at him amidst all that? Brave – not smart, but brave. Even though he’s massively outnumbered, only a couple of them have managed to wound him, and not severely. Lord Eltargrim was happy. At last, after twenty long years of whispering and elf-slaying “accidents,” and rumors of the Coronal’s corruption and setbacks in the mythal-work, at last he could find and see a foe. Oh, well, I’m just so glad you’re happy your court has erupted in bloody violence, because at least it means you’ll know who to stab! How wonderful for you! Maybe that would have more meaning if, you know, we’d actually seen those past twenty years instead of just skipping past them…
Mira: Well, maybe the surprisingly bloodthirsty Coronal won’t be happy much longer, as even he’s starting to tire, and he can hear Llombaerth yelling for his fellow Starym to take him. He is having to use the flat of his sword to slap and spank elves who were failing him and I don’t think spanking your followers is something you should be doing mid battle… *she flushes again* And we’re suddenly in Llombaerth’s point of view, as he thinks to himself that he has a secret magic no other Cormanthan knows about or can stop. Worse than the lifequench spell, which apparently everyone knows – and no, I’m not letting that go? Whatever it is, he thinks that with one clear throw at Eltargrim’s face, and the realm would belong to the House of Starym at last. Suddenly, he feels something break into his mind, a vision that resolves itself into the bleak, merciless old face of the mage Mythanthar… with eyes that held his like two dark flames. Oh, and so Llombaerth probably won’t get his shot at the Coronal after all! I’m… not really surprised? He hears a voice ask if he’s going somewhere, young traitor and… no, no he wasn’t? He was looking for an opportunity to attack the Coronal, not fleeing the battle!
But regardless, Llombaerth finds he can’t move, and the real Mythanthar is staring at him from across the room. He snarls for Mythanthar to get out of his head but can’t force him out; Mythanthar held him in an unyielding grip, and gave a smile that promised death. *weakly and clutching her scarf* But of course – every Greenwood villain has to go out pathetically and knowing how little chance they ever had! Go down and feed the worms, worthless Starym. Go down to your doom, and trouble fair Cormanthor no more. No sooner has Mythanthar stopped speaking than the Coronal bursts through the attacking Starym and strikes at Llombaerth, cutting through his mantle. He slices through Llombaerth’s torso and into his heart, and the last thing he felt, as darkness reached up claws to spin him down into its cold and waiting grip, was an irritating itch washing out from where the hilt of the Fang of Cormanthor was nudging against his ribs. Dazed from pain, Llombaerth tries to scratch it – I don’t think that will help much? – and looks up to see Mythanthar still glaring at him as Llombaerth Starym left Faerun without even time for a proper farewell. *weakly* I suppose that’s that, then? And am I the only one bothered that after all the torment he put them through for decades, neither Elminster nor Nacacia were the ones to kill him? I barely even know Mythanthar, and don’t really care about him – except that he reminds me oddly of an elven version of the older Elminster…
Calassara: No, you’re not the only one. We then cut to someone named Flardryn who I don’t believe we’ve heard of before – is Greenwood seriously introducing new characters in the last chapter? – as he turns away from a scrying crystal and bemoans that Llombaerth is dead. Apparently, the crystal is now showing the Srinshee raining bright streaking stars on the remaining insurgents, with backup from Elmara and Nacacia, so there’s not enough of them left to win anyway. Apparently, everyone else who’s still watching the crystal are Starym too, most of them older than Fladryn but crying at the sight (oh, your racist, xenophobic elitist coup failed! How terrible for you…) but they’re determined to watch to the end. One of the Starym can’t believe that Llombaerth was killed by the Coronal in his own court! The throne of the realm slapping the face of all Starym, that’s what this is! Ah… how long were you watching? You do know that Llombaerth struck first, right? One old woman seems to agree with me, as she can’t believe that any Starym – even someone like Llombaerth, who she apparently thinks was given too much importance too young (we still don’t know what a Lord Speaker does, by the way…) and let it go to his head – would have been so foolish as to attack the Coronal in his own court. Great, even Llombaerth’s allies are talking about how stupid he is, now. Remember when we were supposed to be in awe of what a powerful, cunning mage he was? Seems like that was just a few chapters ago… how things change.
One of the other Starym tells her to calm down (as far as I can tell, she was right…) and then another announces that this means war and they need to gather to attack the court right now before the Coronal can escape, Solonor damn you for witless old weak knees!
MG: Solonor Thelandira is the elven god of wilderness, survival, and the hunt. Why he’s being invoked in this exact context… I have no idea.
Calassara: …figures. Also, considering the Starym just launched a very public failed coup… I think they should be less worried about going on the attack, and more that the Coronal and his armathors might be knocking down their doors any second. Someone else tells Maeraddyth – who I guess is the speaker, and someone else we’ve not heard of before this chapter – to calm down, but Maeraddyth still wants to attack after watching the Lord Speaker cut down in his own blood. The other speaker tells him again to be quiet, and we learn that this is Uldreiyn Starym, the house’s senior archmage. He tells him that Llombaerth already took their chance for violence and bungled it, and we shall be fortunate if House Starym is not hunted down and slain, to every last trace-blood. Yes, you probably will be lucky if that doesn’t happen – so why are you all sitting around here arguing instead of getting the hells out of Cormanthor while you can? If not permanently, at least long enough to let the Coronal’s anger cool a bit, before you come back and say Llombaerth and his people were acting on their own without your knowledge! Uldreiyn tells Maeraddyth that if he decides to throw his life away in the court too, he’ll just look like a fool, not a hero.
MG: Now, we last saw Uldreiyn Starym back in Chapter Eleven; if you’ve forgotten him, I don’t blame you. At the time, I noted that he was one of the book’s main antagonists (Llombaerth being then other). Right now, you may be thinking that’s a little odd, since we’ve not seen or heard of him in all the chapters since then, and the book’s almost over. While that is the case, I stand by my assessment – but you’ll have to wait until the epilogue to see why, and I think it’s just further proof of how badly Greenwood bungled this book’s structure.
Mira: *sigh* Of course he did. Can’t this book just be over now, instead of then? Maeraddyth can’t believe what he’s hearing and calls Uldreiyn a coward, but Uldreiyn coldly reminds him that he’s speaking to his elders, Starym who were revered and celebrated for their deeds when your sire’s sire was still a babe. Even when he puled and wailed, he never disgusted me by his childishness as you are doing… Well, that’s… blunt, I suppose? But why are we only getting into the internal politics of the Starym now, with the book almost over? Uldreiyn and Maeraddyth glare at each other, and then Uldreiyn gestures and Maeraddyth is forced to his knees. Uldreiyn goes on to explain that he understands that Maeraddyth is angry that Llombaerth died (were they brothers? Cousins? I know all these people are related, but I don’t know how – and how does Uldreiyn fit in?) but Llombaerth made a mistake in denouncing and attacking the Coronal in his own hall and dragging all the Starym into it. A Cormanthan elf – a noble Cormanthan elf – a Starym Cormanthan elf – keeps himself under control at all times and never betrays the honor and pride of this great family. If Maeraddyth can’t do that, he shames all his ancestors. Uldreiyn says that if he was cruel, he’d force Maeraddyth to relive the memories of some of the Starym’s ancestors so he’d know just what he means when he talks about going to war. I guess the Starym probably have a kiira somewhere where they keep those? Maeraddyth is so stunned by this threat that he literally bursts into tears – that’s quite a turnaround! – but Uldreiyn kneels down next to him and embraces him.
He tells Maeraddyth that he knows the rage and grief he feels, and Uldreiyn wants him to keep feeling that drive to defend the Starym honor – but he also can’t forget Llombaerth’s foolishness, and not repeat it. Uldreiyn gets back up and tells Maeraddyth to make him proud and then addresses the other gathered Starym. He tells them to put today’s events behind them, to never speak of them again except in private, to work to rebuild their reputation and accept whatever punishment the Coronal demands. If they have to give up wealth or see anyone who supported the coup put to death, so be it. We must show shame, not proud defiance… or there may soon be no House Starym, to rise to greatness again. Well, that seems… pragmatic of him, at least? He then asks if anyone in the room disagrees with him, reminding them that he can use his magic to know if they’re lying; when no one speaks up, he tells them that he’s leaving, and disturb me not, but dress in your best and await my return. The Starym who flees this abode is no longer of us. And then Uldreiyn indeed leaves the room, his expression so dark that servants flee at the sight of him, and arrives in his own private spellcasting chamber, where he seals the doors with two ghost dragons – oh, are those literal ghost dragons? That’s quite an impressive – and terrifying – piece of necromancy, if so, and the scene ends there.
MG: And before we move on to the last scene of the chapter, I’ll note that this sequence may have given the impression that Uldreiyn is a pragmatic villain with a lengthy scheme to restore House Starym’s prestige and power over the course of centuries, and who absolutely does not want to encourage any further reckless attempts to seize power now. I mean, he all but says that outright. That impression… would be wrong, because he’s a Greenwood villain and they don’t do “smart” or “subtle” – but we’ll have to wait until the epilogue to see what I mean.
Calassara: *sighs**facepalms* Why am I not surprised? Anyway, for a brief moment we’re actually still with the ghost dragons, as we’re told they prowled around the corridor outside Uldreiyn’s chambers all night, but no one came to disturb him. Which was just as well, for ghost dragons were always hungry. But can they actually enjoy eating anything anymore? That’s the question! We then cut back to the court – why didn’t we have the scene break here – where the Coronal is talking to the Srinshee about how for twenty years the other houses have tried to seize his throne (why didn’t we get to see this, Greenwood!?) but even if they’d succeeded the victor would have gained no more than the opportunity to submit to the blade-right ritual and many may try, but only one can succeed. Oh, and while he’s saying this, he’s looking at Elminster, who’s back to his normal self again – that brief transformation back into Elmara really was pointless, wasn’t it? Also… what’s the blade-right ritual, why haven’t we heard of it before, and Calistria save me, please don’t tell me Elminster’s going to become the new Coronal?
MG: No, Elminster’s not going to be Coronal, thank all the gods. As for the blade-right ritual… the last step to becoming Coronal of Cormanthor is to draw the Ruler’s Blade, which you can only do if you’re worthy, by the blade’s standards. If you’re not worthy, you get burned to ash on the spot (apparently that’s happened only once, to the son of the first Coronal who was greedy and seems to have automatically assumed he’d be worthy because of who his father was… didn’t work out for him). Weirdly, this isn’t the only elven blade that sets anyone unworthy who tries to draw it on fire (the moonblades, which were created to choose the rulers of Evermeet, feature heavily in Elaine Cunningham’s work and do the same thing, with the added wrinkle that each individual moonblade has different criteria for who counts as worthy, based on that specific blade’s powers and history) – apparently, this is a trend. And no, we’ve never heard about the Ruler’s Blade or the blade rite before, even though this whole damned book has been about Cormanthan politics and people trying to seize the throne by force.
Mira: *sticking her hands safely up her sleeves* I think I won’t be trying that, just to be on the safe side? The Coronal and Mythanthar agree that too many of the nobles are young and foolish, and then the Coronal calls for the Srinshee, who the book is now calling the aged child-sorceress; she floats above the throne and casts a spell, summoning beams of light throughout the whole hall that make a chiming sound when they hit the walls. When it’s done, the heads of all the major Houses have appeared before the throne, with lesser nobles filing in after them. The Coronal draws his sword and begins to speak, explaining how great evil has been done, but now it can be undone as Mythanthar is now officially ready to cast his mythal, and the Coronal doesn’t want to wait in case there’s another attempted coup. Before dusk, this day, the promised mythal shall be laid… when it is deemed stable… the gates of the city shall be thrown open to folk of all races who embrace not evil. To announce this, they will send envoys to humans, gnomes, halflings and even dwarves. Henceforth, though our realm shall remain Cormanthor, this city shall be known as Myth Drannor, in honor of the mythal Mythanthar shall craft for us, and for Drannor, the first elf of Cormanthor known to have married a dwarven lass, long ago though that be. So, excuse me? The renaming of the city – to the name it has in the title of the book, even! – happens at the end of the very last chapter… in honor of someone we’ve never even heard about before now? I don’t understand this… the Coronal turns to his Herald (who is alive and on her feet again, apparently – hello, Alais!) and tells her to summon the wizards. Let the laying of the mythal begin! And the chapter ends there. *beat* And it’s the last chapter. The last chapter in the whole book. What about the mythal? We were promised a mythal! Isn’t that what this whole book was supposed to be leading to? I’m so confused!
MG: Yes, yes it was. And we will be seeing the laying of the mythal, the real climax of the book… in the epilogue. Not in a proper chapter. For some reason. And no, I don’t know why Greenwood decided to do it that way, either, but this book’s structure has been such an inconsistent mess already, we really shouldn’t be surprised. Anyway, this last chapter… was kind of anticlimactic? For one, despite the promises of a spellstorm, what we got was a pretty generic magical battle with nothing like the devastation we saw from the spellstorms Shandril was part of. And for another, we finally see that Llombaerth’s treachery – the stuff of which “wailing doom ballads” were apparently made – was not only a generic coup, but a completely failed coup. Llombaerth failed to seize power, he failed to kill any of the important people he intended to kill, and then he and his followers got all killed themselves! Honestly, the most disturbing part of the chapter was the one old man beating the other old man’s brains out, which was… kind of tangential to everything else going on. And Uldreiyn’s big lecture to his family about pragmatic villainy is kind of hilarious in hindsight, with how quickly he’s about to throw it all out the window in favor of an act of grand supervillainy.
But I think the biggest problem is how inconsequential our actual main character is here. Elminster adds nothing to the battle – unlike last time, he actually does do something here, but it’s pretty minor in the grand scheme of things. He doesn’t get the chance to have revenge on Llombaerth (neither does Nacacia for that matter) and his biggest role is to just provide some supporting fire for the Srinshee. We don’t even get to see the two of them reuniting after he vanished for twenty years! I have no idea why Mystra wanted Elminster to be enslaved to Llombaerth for so long, since things wouldn’t have turned out any different if he hadn’t been, except that Llombaerth would’ve had to find someone else to make his scapegoat – indeed, since Llombaerth took control of him for a bit there and nearly had him attack the Srinshee, he was more of a hindrance than a help, and the biggest contribution Elminster and Nacacia made was stopping Elminster himself from being used as a weapon, which wouldn’t have been an issue at all if he hadn’t been there! And I’m quite certain the Elmara bit was written exclusively so Greenwood could have Elminster turn into Elmara while writhing and being pinned down under Nacacia’s body. Because… yeah. Beyond that, we get a whole bunch of Starym elders and internal Starym politics dropped on us out of the blue without any buildup, the name change to Myth Drannor has no buildup and is in honor of someone we’ve never heard of (though “Myth” is indeed the usual elven prefix for a place that has a mythal over it)… like so much of the latter part of this book, it just feels rushed and underdeveloped, because Greenwood wasted too much time farting around on unimportant things when he should have been laying the groundwork for this. Sigh. Anyway, next time, we have our epilogue and second, arguably actual, climax, and we finally bring this book to a close and tie off some loose ends (including, fair warning, the conclusion of Symrustar’s arc). We’ll see you then!
Warning: This chapter contains violence, deaths, and a potentially transphobic plot point.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Elminster in Myth Drannor! Last time, The Masked revealed his true identity as some guy we’d heard of once before, framed Elminster for murder, the people he’d allegedly murdered turned up alive (including Nacacia… somehow…) and The Masked and the Starym launched a coup. Whew. Today, in the book’s last proper chapter, it’s time for the battle for Cormanthor. Joining us once again will be Calassara and Mira!
Chapter Twenty: Spellstorm at Court
Calassara: *flatly* Yay. Well, today we’re back to having our opening quote from the gossip rag, one last time, so let’s see how that goes, shall we? And so it was that a spellstorm was unleashed in the court of Cormanthor that day. A true spellstorm is a fearful thing, one of the most terrible dooms one can behold, even if one lives to remember it. Yet some among our People held far more hatred and fear in their hearts for what happened after the spellstorm blew apart. Which was… what, exactly? Don’t leave us hanging like that, Greenwood! Also, I remember the spellstorms Shandril caused, and so for once I have to agree with the gossip rag’s description *she shudders*. Let’s see how this one measures up, shall we?
So, last chapter ended with the Srinshee’s arrival, and that’s where this one picks up! Sudden light kindled in the darkness and the dust. Golden motes of light, drifting up from the open hand of a sorceress who seemed no more than an elf-child. *rolling her eyes* Yes, thank you for the reminder that this very elderly woman looks like a child now. I really needed that, Greenwood. And so, we find that the battle is no longer being lit only by the flashing of magic, but like a sunrise in the mourning, light returned to the battlefield. Oh, symbolic! *she applauds sarcastically* And the light illuminates that bodies lay strewn everywhere, and amid the risen dust, the sky could be seen faintly through the vaulted roof of the hall. Huge fragments of toppled pillar lay tumbled behind the floating throne, with dark rivers of blood creeping out from between some of them. Well, nice to see Greenwood hasn’t lost his touch for gruesome imagery, has he? We learn that around the court, battle is still raging between the Starym mages and the Coronal’s armathors, while the Srinshee is floating by the throne and trying to intercept the attackers’ most powerful spells. Elminster and Nacacia, meanwhile – remember them? Our ostensible hero and his new, miraculously alive love interest? – are still in each other’s arms but have pulled themselves to their feet and spotted that Llombaerth is up to something. The Masked was holding a stormsword conjured from elsewhere, purple lightnings of its own playing down the blade. His face no longer looked so desperate as he watched the Coronal hewing slowly through the Starym retainers gathered in front of their Lord Speaker. Oh, yes, the Coronal is killing your supporters, and the most powerful mage in the realm just arrived to help put down your coup! Nothing to worry about there! *she rolls her eyes*
Mira: Well, Llombaerth’s gaze then falls on his apprentices and he narrows his eyes, which sounds rather ominous. He gestures at Elminster, who shouts no! as he’s jerked out of Nacacia’s arms and finds himself forced to begin a spell. He cries out Nacacia! Help me! Stop me! And oh, right, the spell Llombaerth was using to control Elminster is still in effect, isn’t it? If only your goddess hadn’t told you how to break that spell and free yourself twenty years ago and somehow you just forgot about it… But that would just be silly! Llombaerth roots around in Elminster’s mind for the spells he’s prepared, finds one, and casts it; it turns out this is a spell to teleport swords specifically (which seems like a sort of cousin to Greenwood’s favorite standby, the flying swords…) and Llombaerth wants to use it it to stab through the throat and breast and belly of the Srinshee. That… sounds rather horrible, but I’d also think the Srinshee might have protected herself from that? Meanwhile, the battle still rages as more elves join in, using the cover of the coup to settle old scores (…why are we supposed to care at all about what happens to this society, again?). In fact, one old elf – so old that the skin of his ears was nearly transparent, how interesting – literally starts beating another old elf to death with a footstool. *stunned* Has… has the entire court of Cormanthor gone mad? Or were they always like this and finally just have a chance to let it out? Somehow, I suspect the latter…
We then learn that the dead elder’s brains spread over the slippers of a haughty lady in a blue gown, who doesn’t even notice because she’s too busy pulling hair, scratching and spitting with another lady (you know, I have to work with things most people would find disturbing fairly regularly – but I’d still notice if an old man’s brains were spilled onto my shoes!). There was blood on their nails as they slapped, kicked and flailed at each other in a panting fury. *flushing* Ah, Greenwood… is there something you’d like to tell us about the way you’re writing this scene? Finally, one of the women just grabs the other by the throat and starts strangling her. But while all this is going on, Elminster is still being compelled to begin his spell against the Srinshee. Nacacia, trying to stop it, attacks him, and El felt the thudding blows of her small fists but it’s not enough to ruin his spell (clearly, she’s not strong enough to manage that because she’s a girl – at least that’s what Greenwood seems to think! Also, isn’t it a bit strange that The Masked doesn’t seem to have thought to but the same spell he used on Elminster on Nacacia – she was his slave too!). Elminster’s hands are still being compelled to take out the components he needs for the spell, and he finally manages to tell Nacacia Knock me down! Push me against the floor! I need it – do it! What do you think she’s been trying to do? *she flushes again* And, ah, Elminster – just why do you “need” to be tackled to the floor by your love interest? In public, too! But Nacacia launches into a desperate, clumsy tackle – why did we have to specify that it’s clumsy? – and manages to shove Elminster down, and she fought to keep on top of him, riding him as a farmer tries to hold down a struggling pig. *she flushes even deeper* That’s not quite what it sounds like to me…
Calassara: I’ll take over for a bit to save our good necromancer some embarrassment, if you don’t mind. Under Llombaerth’s control, Elminster keeps struggling, trying to throw Nacacia off, and then suddenly something pops into his mind. Ah! Aye! The golden symbol Mystra had put into his mind so long ago gleamed, wavering like a coin seen underwater. Then it shone steadily as he bent it to his will be capturing it. Now he remembers! And, what, did Elminster have to go fishing in his own mind for the symbol? That’s a new one! Llombaerth tries to keep Elminster focused on the Srinshee, but he manages to fight through it and as Nacacia shoves him down onto the stone – oh, my! - he cries out Mystra! And then his body shuddered, squirmed and… flowed. Huh, that’s… not how I’d have described that… but Elminster manages to tell Nacacia he’s free now and she can get off, and when she does she finds herself staring into the eyes of a human woman! *she sighs* And, there it is. Why do I have a sneaking suspicion Greenwood included this scene just so he could write about Elminster turning into a woman while another woman forcibly held him down? Well, Elminster says Call me Elmara, please! And Nacacia – in what I believe is her second whole line – asks if he’s still himself. Elminster/Elmara says sometimes I think so – well, I think I know who you are, and you’re kind of horrible – and the two of them embrace. They’re suddenly distracted by shouts of For the Starym! Starym risen! And stumble to their feet – stepping right over Alais’s body, rude – as more elves in Starym livery burst into the hall. Someone snaps an order at Nacacia and Elmara to guard Alais – who I guess is just unconscious, not dead – and keep the attackers off the Srinshee’s back. It’s Mythanthar, and the two of them immediately obey, with Elmara using the bladecall spell Llombaerth made Elminster prepare to stab the throats and faces of the lead attackers, while Nacacia actually does something for once and shoots lightning at them.
Meanwhile, the Srinshee has summoned a small army of ghostly elven warriors who don’t seem to be able to hurt anybody but have enough substance to block the Starym from advancing until they’ve destroyed them. Well, at least it didn’t involve gorily blowing people to bits, which is unusual for a Greenwood protagonist, I have to say – though El and Nacacia take the opportunity to pelt some of the Starym with magic missiles. Meanwhile, more elven nobles have arrived to see just what in the hells is going on; some of them immediately duck out and leave, but a few draw their weapons and charge in. Meanwhile, the Coronal is fighting for his life, slaughtering Starym courtiers like an angry lion. And the Starym are still throwing themselves at him amidst all that? Brave – not smart, but brave. Even though he’s massively outnumbered, only a couple of them have managed to wound him, and not severely. Lord Eltargrim was happy. At last, after twenty long years of whispering and elf-slaying “accidents,” and rumors of the Coronal’s corruption and setbacks in the mythal-work, at last he could find and see a foe. Oh, well, I’m just so glad you’re happy your court has erupted in bloody violence, because at least it means you’ll know who to stab! How wonderful for you! Maybe that would have more meaning if, you know, we’d actually seen those past twenty years instead of just skipping past them…
Mira: Well, maybe the surprisingly bloodthirsty Coronal won’t be happy much longer, as even he’s starting to tire, and he can hear Llombaerth yelling for his fellow Starym to take him. He is having to use the flat of his sword to slap and spank elves who were failing him and I don’t think spanking your followers is something you should be doing mid battle… *she flushes again* And we’re suddenly in Llombaerth’s point of view, as he thinks to himself that he has a secret magic no other Cormanthan knows about or can stop. Worse than the lifequench spell, which apparently everyone knows – and no, I’m not letting that go? Whatever it is, he thinks that with one clear throw at Eltargrim’s face, and the realm would belong to the House of Starym at last. Suddenly, he feels something break into his mind, a vision that resolves itself into the bleak, merciless old face of the mage Mythanthar… with eyes that held his like two dark flames. Oh, and so Llombaerth probably won’t get his shot at the Coronal after all! I’m… not really surprised? He hears a voice ask if he’s going somewhere, young traitor and… no, no he wasn’t? He was looking for an opportunity to attack the Coronal, not fleeing the battle!
But regardless, Llombaerth finds he can’t move, and the real Mythanthar is staring at him from across the room. He snarls for Mythanthar to get out of his head but can’t force him out; Mythanthar held him in an unyielding grip, and gave a smile that promised death. *weakly and clutching her scarf* But of course – every Greenwood villain has to go out pathetically and knowing how little chance they ever had! Go down and feed the worms, worthless Starym. Go down to your doom, and trouble fair Cormanthor no more. No sooner has Mythanthar stopped speaking than the Coronal bursts through the attacking Starym and strikes at Llombaerth, cutting through his mantle. He slices through Llombaerth’s torso and into his heart, and the last thing he felt, as darkness reached up claws to spin him down into its cold and waiting grip, was an irritating itch washing out from where the hilt of the Fang of Cormanthor was nudging against his ribs. Dazed from pain, Llombaerth tries to scratch it – I don’t think that will help much? – and looks up to see Mythanthar still glaring at him as Llombaerth Starym left Faerun without even time for a proper farewell. *weakly* I suppose that’s that, then? And am I the only one bothered that after all the torment he put them through for decades, neither Elminster nor Nacacia were the ones to kill him? I barely even know Mythanthar, and don’t really care about him – except that he reminds me oddly of an elven version of the older Elminster…
Calassara: No, you’re not the only one. We then cut to someone named Flardryn who I don’t believe we’ve heard of before – is Greenwood seriously introducing new characters in the last chapter? – as he turns away from a scrying crystal and bemoans that Llombaerth is dead. Apparently, the crystal is now showing the Srinshee raining bright streaking stars on the remaining insurgents, with backup from Elmara and Nacacia, so there’s not enough of them left to win anyway. Apparently, everyone else who’s still watching the crystal are Starym too, most of them older than Fladryn but crying at the sight (oh, your racist, xenophobic elitist coup failed! How terrible for you…) but they’re determined to watch to the end. One of the Starym can’t believe that Llombaerth was killed by the Coronal in his own court! The throne of the realm slapping the face of all Starym, that’s what this is! Ah… how long were you watching? You do know that Llombaerth struck first, right? One old woman seems to agree with me, as she can’t believe that any Starym – even someone like Llombaerth, who she apparently thinks was given too much importance too young (we still don’t know what a Lord Speaker does, by the way…) and let it go to his head – would have been so foolish as to attack the Coronal in his own court. Great, even Llombaerth’s allies are talking about how stupid he is, now. Remember when we were supposed to be in awe of what a powerful, cunning mage he was? Seems like that was just a few chapters ago… how things change.
One of the other Starym tells her to calm down (as far as I can tell, she was right…) and then another announces that this means war and they need to gather to attack the court right now before the Coronal can escape, Solonor damn you for witless old weak knees!
MG: Solonor Thelandira is the elven god of wilderness, survival, and the hunt. Why he’s being invoked in this exact context… I have no idea.
Calassara: …figures. Also, considering the Starym just launched a very public failed coup… I think they should be less worried about going on the attack, and more that the Coronal and his armathors might be knocking down their doors any second. Someone else tells Maeraddyth – who I guess is the speaker, and someone else we’ve not heard of before this chapter – to calm down, but Maeraddyth still wants to attack after watching the Lord Speaker cut down in his own blood. The other speaker tells him again to be quiet, and we learn that this is Uldreiyn Starym, the house’s senior archmage. He tells him that Llombaerth already took their chance for violence and bungled it, and we shall be fortunate if House Starym is not hunted down and slain, to every last trace-blood. Yes, you probably will be lucky if that doesn’t happen – so why are you all sitting around here arguing instead of getting the hells out of Cormanthor while you can? If not permanently, at least long enough to let the Coronal’s anger cool a bit, before you come back and say Llombaerth and his people were acting on their own without your knowledge! Uldreiyn tells Maeraddyth that if he decides to throw his life away in the court too, he’ll just look like a fool, not a hero.
MG: Now, we last saw Uldreiyn Starym back in Chapter Eleven; if you’ve forgotten him, I don’t blame you. At the time, I noted that he was one of the book’s main antagonists (Llombaerth being then other). Right now, you may be thinking that’s a little odd, since we’ve not seen or heard of him in all the chapters since then, and the book’s almost over. While that is the case, I stand by my assessment – but you’ll have to wait until the epilogue to see why, and I think it’s just further proof of how badly Greenwood bungled this book’s structure.
Mira: *sigh* Of course he did. Can’t this book just be over now, instead of then? Maeraddyth can’t believe what he’s hearing and calls Uldreiyn a coward, but Uldreiyn coldly reminds him that he’s speaking to his elders, Starym who were revered and celebrated for their deeds when your sire’s sire was still a babe. Even when he puled and wailed, he never disgusted me by his childishness as you are doing… Well, that’s… blunt, I suppose? But why are we only getting into the internal politics of the Starym now, with the book almost over? Uldreiyn and Maeraddyth glare at each other, and then Uldreiyn gestures and Maeraddyth is forced to his knees. Uldreiyn goes on to explain that he understands that Maeraddyth is angry that Llombaerth died (were they brothers? Cousins? I know all these people are related, but I don’t know how – and how does Uldreiyn fit in?) but Llombaerth made a mistake in denouncing and attacking the Coronal in his own hall and dragging all the Starym into it. A Cormanthan elf – a noble Cormanthan elf – a Starym Cormanthan elf – keeps himself under control at all times and never betrays the honor and pride of this great family. If Maeraddyth can’t do that, he shames all his ancestors. Uldreiyn says that if he was cruel, he’d force Maeraddyth to relive the memories of some of the Starym’s ancestors so he’d know just what he means when he talks about going to war. I guess the Starym probably have a kiira somewhere where they keep those? Maeraddyth is so stunned by this threat that he literally bursts into tears – that’s quite a turnaround! – but Uldreiyn kneels down next to him and embraces him.
He tells Maeraddyth that he knows the rage and grief he feels, and Uldreiyn wants him to keep feeling that drive to defend the Starym honor – but he also can’t forget Llombaerth’s foolishness, and not repeat it. Uldreiyn gets back up and tells Maeraddyth to make him proud and then addresses the other gathered Starym. He tells them to put today’s events behind them, to never speak of them again except in private, to work to rebuild their reputation and accept whatever punishment the Coronal demands. If they have to give up wealth or see anyone who supported the coup put to death, so be it. We must show shame, not proud defiance… or there may soon be no House Starym, to rise to greatness again. Well, that seems… pragmatic of him, at least? He then asks if anyone in the room disagrees with him, reminding them that he can use his magic to know if they’re lying; when no one speaks up, he tells them that he’s leaving, and disturb me not, but dress in your best and await my return. The Starym who flees this abode is no longer of us. And then Uldreiyn indeed leaves the room, his expression so dark that servants flee at the sight of him, and arrives in his own private spellcasting chamber, where he seals the doors with two ghost dragons – oh, are those literal ghost dragons? That’s quite an impressive – and terrifying – piece of necromancy, if so, and the scene ends there.
MG: And before we move on to the last scene of the chapter, I’ll note that this sequence may have given the impression that Uldreiyn is a pragmatic villain with a lengthy scheme to restore House Starym’s prestige and power over the course of centuries, and who absolutely does not want to encourage any further reckless attempts to seize power now. I mean, he all but says that outright. That impression… would be wrong, because he’s a Greenwood villain and they don’t do “smart” or “subtle” – but we’ll have to wait until the epilogue to see what I mean.
Calassara: *sighs**facepalms* Why am I not surprised? Anyway, for a brief moment we’re actually still with the ghost dragons, as we’re told they prowled around the corridor outside Uldreiyn’s chambers all night, but no one came to disturb him. Which was just as well, for ghost dragons were always hungry. But can they actually enjoy eating anything anymore? That’s the question! We then cut back to the court – why didn’t we have the scene break here – where the Coronal is talking to the Srinshee about how for twenty years the other houses have tried to seize his throne (why didn’t we get to see this, Greenwood!?) but even if they’d succeeded the victor would have gained no more than the opportunity to submit to the blade-right ritual and many may try, but only one can succeed. Oh, and while he’s saying this, he’s looking at Elminster, who’s back to his normal self again – that brief transformation back into Elmara really was pointless, wasn’t it? Also… what’s the blade-right ritual, why haven’t we heard of it before, and Calistria save me, please don’t tell me Elminster’s going to become the new Coronal?
MG: No, Elminster’s not going to be Coronal, thank all the gods. As for the blade-right ritual… the last step to becoming Coronal of Cormanthor is to draw the Ruler’s Blade, which you can only do if you’re worthy, by the blade’s standards. If you’re not worthy, you get burned to ash on the spot (apparently that’s happened only once, to the son of the first Coronal who was greedy and seems to have automatically assumed he’d be worthy because of who his father was… didn’t work out for him). Weirdly, this isn’t the only elven blade that sets anyone unworthy who tries to draw it on fire (the moonblades, which were created to choose the rulers of Evermeet, feature heavily in Elaine Cunningham’s work and do the same thing, with the added wrinkle that each individual moonblade has different criteria for who counts as worthy, based on that specific blade’s powers and history) – apparently, this is a trend. And no, we’ve never heard about the Ruler’s Blade or the blade rite before, even though this whole damned book has been about Cormanthan politics and people trying to seize the throne by force.
Mira: *sticking her hands safely up her sleeves* I think I won’t be trying that, just to be on the safe side? The Coronal and Mythanthar agree that too many of the nobles are young and foolish, and then the Coronal calls for the Srinshee, who the book is now calling the aged child-sorceress; she floats above the throne and casts a spell, summoning beams of light throughout the whole hall that make a chiming sound when they hit the walls. When it’s done, the heads of all the major Houses have appeared before the throne, with lesser nobles filing in after them. The Coronal draws his sword and begins to speak, explaining how great evil has been done, but now it can be undone as Mythanthar is now officially ready to cast his mythal, and the Coronal doesn’t want to wait in case there’s another attempted coup. Before dusk, this day, the promised mythal shall be laid… when it is deemed stable… the gates of the city shall be thrown open to folk of all races who embrace not evil. To announce this, they will send envoys to humans, gnomes, halflings and even dwarves. Henceforth, though our realm shall remain Cormanthor, this city shall be known as Myth Drannor, in honor of the mythal Mythanthar shall craft for us, and for Drannor, the first elf of Cormanthor known to have married a dwarven lass, long ago though that be. So, excuse me? The renaming of the city – to the name it has in the title of the book, even! – happens at the end of the very last chapter… in honor of someone we’ve never even heard about before now? I don’t understand this… the Coronal turns to his Herald (who is alive and on her feet again, apparently – hello, Alais!) and tells her to summon the wizards. Let the laying of the mythal begin! And the chapter ends there. *beat* And it’s the last chapter. The last chapter in the whole book. What about the mythal? We were promised a mythal! Isn’t that what this whole book was supposed to be leading to? I’m so confused!
MG: Yes, yes it was. And we will be seeing the laying of the mythal, the real climax of the book… in the epilogue. Not in a proper chapter. For some reason. And no, I don’t know why Greenwood decided to do it that way, either, but this book’s structure has been such an inconsistent mess already, we really shouldn’t be surprised. Anyway, this last chapter… was kind of anticlimactic? For one, despite the promises of a spellstorm, what we got was a pretty generic magical battle with nothing like the devastation we saw from the spellstorms Shandril was part of. And for another, we finally see that Llombaerth’s treachery – the stuff of which “wailing doom ballads” were apparently made – was not only a generic coup, but a completely failed coup. Llombaerth failed to seize power, he failed to kill any of the important people he intended to kill, and then he and his followers got all killed themselves! Honestly, the most disturbing part of the chapter was the one old man beating the other old man’s brains out, which was… kind of tangential to everything else going on. And Uldreiyn’s big lecture to his family about pragmatic villainy is kind of hilarious in hindsight, with how quickly he’s about to throw it all out the window in favor of an act of grand supervillainy.
But I think the biggest problem is how inconsequential our actual main character is here. Elminster adds nothing to the battle – unlike last time, he actually does do something here, but it’s pretty minor in the grand scheme of things. He doesn’t get the chance to have revenge on Llombaerth (neither does Nacacia for that matter) and his biggest role is to just provide some supporting fire for the Srinshee. We don’t even get to see the two of them reuniting after he vanished for twenty years! I have no idea why Mystra wanted Elminster to be enslaved to Llombaerth for so long, since things wouldn’t have turned out any different if he hadn’t been, except that Llombaerth would’ve had to find someone else to make his scapegoat – indeed, since Llombaerth took control of him for a bit there and nearly had him attack the Srinshee, he was more of a hindrance than a help, and the biggest contribution Elminster and Nacacia made was stopping Elminster himself from being used as a weapon, which wouldn’t have been an issue at all if he hadn’t been there! And I’m quite certain the Elmara bit was written exclusively so Greenwood could have Elminster turn into Elmara while writhing and being pinned down under Nacacia’s body. Because… yeah. Beyond that, we get a whole bunch of Starym elders and internal Starym politics dropped on us out of the blue without any buildup, the name change to Myth Drannor has no buildup and is in honor of someone we’ve never heard of (though “Myth” is indeed the usual elven prefix for a place that has a mythal over it)… like so much of the latter part of this book, it just feels rushed and underdeveloped, because Greenwood wasted too much time farting around on unimportant things when he should have been laying the groundwork for this. Sigh. Anyway, next time, we have our epilogue and second, arguably actual, climax, and we finally bring this book to a close and tie off some loose ends (including, fair warning, the conclusion of Symrustar’s arc). We’ll see you then!
