When Elaith and the nameless (at least in his estimation) young gold elf arrived at the Pantheon Temple he was soaked to the marrow and shivering violently from the cold. The crime lord handed his sopping cloak to the young messenger as they stepped into the warm dryness of the temple foyer.
"I'll go inform Lord Durothil you have arrived." The bemused messenger said, hanging up Elaith's cloak with a furrowed brow. He had heard tales of Elaith Craulnober, bot of his exploits in Waterdeep and his reputation on Evermeet but he hadn't expected him to be so… unpleasant.
"Yes. Do that." Elaith muttered abstractedly, his hawk's eyes scanning the room ceaselessly. He crossed his arms over his slender chest, uninterested in the quiet beauty of the temple or the way that the soft music and chanting of the clergy carried soothing melodies down every hall. He had a thankfully short amount of time to wait, the aged Priest soon approaching, flanked by a pair of moon elven clerics, hooded and robed. Reflexively it seemed, Elaith dipped into a brief bow, one which was acknowledged by the aged priest with a deferential nod.
"I was certain you would opt not to come." He remarked dryly. "Come, walk with me and we'll find a fire to warm you through." He added, motioning down the hallway he'd just come from. Elaith fell into step beside him without comment, the other two clerics in tow.
"What is it you needed so urgently to speak to me about?" Elaith asked without preamble, his gaze straight ahead, his hands clasped behind his back, ready to draw any one of his hidden blades if the need arose.
"Do you recall a young elfwoman by the name of Sindelle Wayfarer?" The aged preist asked as they moved into a spacious study, complete with a small hearth and cheerful fire. Elaith's brow furrowed as he rifled through his memory, finally shaking his silver head. He stood with his back to the fire, enjoying the warmth as he regarded the priest.
"No, that name is not familiar to me." He admitted after the silence stretched too long.
"She was a pretty thing, a gold elf, almost fragile looking." The Durothil priest prompted, seating himself in a plush chair and steepling his long fingered hands before his angular, lined face. Still Elaith merely stared at him, his pale, angular face devoid of expression, though inwardly he was growing irritated. He did not understand the direction the seemingly pointless conversation. He wanted the priest to hurry and get down to business.
"She said she knew you." The priest continued, unconcerned. "It was her dying wish that you be here." Elaith arched a silver eyebrow, a flicker of interest finally lighting his amber eyes.
"And, why would she wish for that on her deathbed?" He asked, his mellifluous tone only slightly tinged with bitter sarcasm.
"She was with child." The Durothil priest explained. "Your child." Evindil Durothil finished, and saw quite plainly the Serpent's composure completely forsake him, his jaw dropping and his amber eyes growing almost comically wide. He tried several times to speak, opening and closing his mouth like a beached trout before shaking his head and stalking towards the door, only to wheel and face the priest once more.
"How is this possible?" He demanded, his voice nearly a whisper. In an uncharacteristically nervous gesture, the moon elf ran a hand through his damp silver hair, brushing it back from his face, the movement quick, jerky and almost desperate. The priest felt a twinge of pity for the crime lord, but in truth was more concerned for the child. He had no answer for the Serpent and spread his long fingered hands helplessly.
"I do not know what you expect me to say. Truly I'm surprised you never prepared for this eventuality considering what is said of your… ah… habits."
Elaith graced the priest with a look of mild incredulity. No one ever spoke to him in such a manner! Even as he regarded the aged elf, his hand itched to draw a dagger and reply with cold steel to the perceived insult. He couldn't bring himself to move so much as an inch however, the implications of the priest's revelations swirling in his mind like storm tossed ships at sea.
"Take me to the child." He said finally, wiping his face clean of all expression, keeping his voice carefully neutral.
Author's note: A short chapter, I know, but I felt bad waiting so long to upload. I'll get to the juicy bits/violence soon, I promise :) Also, thanks so much for the reviews. They keep me going and make me want to/remember to continue