"Feeling better?" She asked, popping another bit of potato into her mouth.
"Smashing." Rhyldan answered, still savoring a bite of whatever was left on his plate.
"I must say, you are a curious one, Rhyldan."
"Oh, how so?" Rhyldan took a long drink from the glass of ale the druidess had provided.
Aithwen refilled her wine and continued observing her guest. "May I be frank with you, Rhyldan? I dislike mincing words, but not many appreciate that in someone they have just met. Up to you." Ice blue met crimson as both elves studied the other.
Rhyldan finally shrugged. "I don't mind forthright people. So unless whatever you have to say puts my life at risk, go ahead. I will say I reserve the right not to answer, however, pet. Dunno you well enough to bare my soul to." His eyes narrowed and he leaned back in his chair, waiting for what the pretty little druid had to say.
"You are strange. Even for a denizen of a merchant city of the Chionthar, you do not fit my expectations and I must admit I have a great many questions - some I doubt you would appreciate my having let alone asking." Aithwen sipped her wine as Rhyldan shifted in his chair, his posture stiffening. "Let me assure you I have no intent to attack you groundlessly nor throw you out into the great lizard's tantrum," a great groan of wind punctuated her words, reminding Rhyldan that there was a dragon somewhere nearby who was less than happy with his host at the moment; "no matter the direction or outcome of this conversation. I have offered you safety and, unlike many beings in this world, I do not betray my word. Not easily, at least."
Aithwen's sincere icy blue eyes stared steadfastly into Rhyldan's worried crimson as his mind worked to comprehend her words.
"And what, pray tell, would lead to you betraying your lovely promise of safety, pet?"
Aithwen looked over at her animal companions as they snoozed or played about the room. "Them." Her voice was soft. The sound so full of warmth and affection Rhyldan actually felt a ping of jealousy as he watched the woman gaze fondly at the creatures.
"Your beasties? That seems an odd motivation for breaking your word. No offense, luv."
Shards of ice flicked back to Rhyldan's face. "Not really. They are my pack, my family." Her eyes moved back to gaze fondly at the pair of foxes who had made their way to curl about her feet. "Each of them means more to me than you can possibly imagine." Her hand drifted down to deliver an affectionate rub to teal-tipped white ears. "Their lives, their safety, that is what I value beyond honoring my given word."
Rhyldan rested his chin in a palm and considered the woman sitting across the little wooden table from him. "You're an odd one, ducks."
Aithwen looked back over at her companion to see a bemused smile on his pale features. "You say that as if you are unsure what to make of it."
Rhyldan barked out a rough laugh. "You have no idea, luv! I have been in a state of shock and awe since the moment we met." His smile was wide and Aithwen caught the glint of firelight off a porcelain fang.
The druidess cocked an auburn eyebrow in response. "Shock and awe?"
"Indeed. You are quite the mystery, pet. Well dressed, clean, a home more comfortable'n a noble's, hidden rooms, great magics at your command, ruthless in battle," Rhyldan leaned toward Aithwen and made a show of breathing in her scent, "and the way you smell - like apples fresh from the ice cellar at the height of summer. Is it any wonder I don't know what to make of you?"
Aithwen hummed in response, trying to figure a good way to get her questions answered honestly. Rhyldan didn't seem like the type to just answer truthfully to someone he didn't trust - if he was even capable of trusting a stranger, or answering truthfully. At least she seemed to make him almost as curious about her as she was about him. The thought triggered an idea based on a game she had played long ago around late night fires with friends long buried.
"Let's try something, hm?" Aithwen asked, shifting slightly. "We are strangers to each other, and we likely have questions buzzing in our minds like bees. Many of which neither of us will be happy to answer without trusting the other more than we do now."
"Go on, luv. What's your idea?" Rhyldan leaned into his fist, curiosity peaked at the change in her tone and demeanor.
Aithwen stood from her chair and walked over to the fire, settling herself down on the warm wood. The foxes chirped happily and scurried over to the druidess, climbing over her lap and snuffling at her face and clothes.
"Come and sit with me, Rhyldan." Aithwen beckoned the other elf over. "A friend of mine once told me that the easiest way to build a rapport with another being is honesty. And ale." She smiled with amused remembrance as she looked into the fire. "He could make friends with anyone, as long as they were not a beast. Animals hated him!" Her smile turned sad as she chuckled. "I am not suggesting we sit here and get ourselves drunk, we are elves and that would take far longer than would be good for either of us." Blue eyes sought ruby across the room. "I thought we could start by asking each other a set of questions to get to know each other and feel more comfortable. Judging by the sounds of the wind and by the scale of the chill in the ground Crythruxos' tantrum won't let up enough for travel for at least a tenday; so we are going to be here with each other for some time. I don't know about you, but rest will come easier tonight once I know a little more about you." Stretching her legs out and crossing her ankles she lifted one of the foxes into her lap and began carding her fingers through the beautifully colored fur. "I was thinking we would each ask three questions for tonight. So to begin, assuming my assumption of you being from Scornubel is correct, are you the son of a merchant or an official?"
Rhyldan was surprised. It was a simple, harmless question where he was expecting something accusatory. He shook his head, "Such an odd bird you are. Fine luv, I'll play. My da was both actually. He was a merchant who became a lower official and governmental liaison when I was about 38. How did you know I was from Scornubel?"
"Is that your question?" Aithwen smirked as Rhyldan growled.
"Does it have to be?"
Aithwen laughed. "You'd be terrible at questioning the dead."
"Hm, now that's a story I'd like to hear." Rhyldan replied. "Anyway, answer my question?"
"Of course, of course. Tell you what, I'll give you that one for free, shall I? As I said, I traveled a lot before coming here. I recognize your accent as belonging to the villages of the Chionthar. Your adding 'pet', 'luv', 'bird', 'bint' and finally 'ducks' to address females was most common among the folks of Scornubel and Berdusk when I was traveling. Your dress told me you were likely from a merchant family or organization. Scornubel made the most sense. Your mouth is open."
Rhyldan snapped his jaw shut. "Well shit." He shook his head with a chuckle as he stood and began walking over to the fire. "Color me impressed, luv. Most folk thought I was Baldurian on the way up here."
"Makes sense. Your accent is just a bit thicker, though. Hard to tell the difference if you haven't spent considerable time in each city."
"Alright, got my first real question for you then, pet: How long were you in Scornubel and the Chionthar region?"
"Scornubel specifically, five years. I walked and lived on the Chionthar for 25 years about two centuries ago when I trained with some Silvanite druids. My turn: I only saw daggers on you, is that how you choose to fight or do you have no other choice, no other weapons with you?" Aithwen smiled as Rhyldan sank to the warm floorboards an arms length away.
"A little of both. I've never been good with long blades, though I did have a tutor when I was young. Ended up being better suited to skulking, sneaking and such so the man who taught me started working on my speed and reactions instead of swinging a larger blade. Got fairly good at it too if I may say so myself. Cor, that man was brutal!" Rhyldan chuckled and shook his head at the memory. "Right bastard he was. Alright, my turn again, pet. You mentioned something about being a 'Rime of Auril' when we met. What's that?" Rhyldan let his head recline back to rest on the seat of the fur-covered chair behind his back and settled his red eyes on his companion, the little fox curled snugly in her lap with little snuffle noises coming from its chest as she stroked along its back.
Aithwen studied Rhyldan for a moment. "To answer your question, I will have to ask you my third of the night: How much do you know of druids?"
Rhyldan's head rose, "Color me curious then, pet. Well then, about as much as most I suppose. Druid folk are essentially nature priests, some believe plants and animals are superior to all other life while others believe that sentient species and natural ones should live together in harmony. Their magic is tied to the natural world, manipulating it, using it to their benefit and the benefit of the natural order. Some can even become beasts themselves if they are powerful enough. Most druids live in groups they call enclaves or circles and dress in skins and bark and smell like the animals they prefer. Think that's about it, pet."
"Hmn. Should I be disappointed that all that most know of us?" Aithwen sighed dramatically and smiled as Rhyldan chuckled in response. "You are mostly correct, and of course that ignorance is exactly what the HighArchDruids aim for. We dislike non-druidic folk knowing too much about how we do things."
"Makes some sense, 'spose. Tales of druid groves tell of huge magics capable of completely altering the world." Rhyldan began picking at the fraying threads on his borrowed trousers.
"Would it surprise you to learn that we could not only destroy, but recreate the world completely if we so desired?" Aithwen asked quietly.
"Shit." Rhyldan's eyes met the steady gaze of the druidess. "You're not telling tales, are ya, pet?"
The druidess shook her head. "All the stories of the various planes credit the creation of the world to various gods. Who created the first world doesn't matter, but during the course of the sunderings of the gods, Mystra and the gods of nature decided to give the secrets of the destruction and continuation of the planes to the highest order of druids to keep those secrets hidden from power hungry sorcerers and wizards - each god and goddess has a druid powerful enough to wield their portion of the primal magic that is selected from the enclaves that are dedicated to them."
"Holy shit, that you, luv?!" Rhyldan exclaimed, awe and fear shining in his clarett eyes.
Aithwen shook her head, "No, no. I haven't been selected for that honor as of yet, that belongs to the Aurilian druid we call the First Rime. There are six of us in total - just like the six points of Auril's holy symbol. Nearly all Aurilian druids belong to the northern enclave we call the Hibernal Ring. At the head of the ring are the Six Rime Lords, who are further split into the Northern and Eastern Gales. They are followed by the twelve FrostKeepers, then HighArchDruids, ArchDruids, MasterDruids, FrostKin, Journierers, Initiates, Acolytes, FrostKissed, SnowChildren, Novices, Initiates, and Fledgelings. I am the Fourth Rime and first seat of the Northern Gale. I am responsible for not only one sixth of the land under the Hibernal Ring's care, but for the training and care of all the druids in it, whether they are Aurilian or not. At the last census of the gale there are 174 druids, 8 giant tribes, 3 official countries, 9 dragons, and around 486,000 members of various sentient or semi-sentient species settled within that area which spans the lands running east of the Spine of the World to the edge of the High Ice."
"Cor, luv." Rhyldan exhaled heavily, his back slumping against the chair. "You're in charge o'all that? That's nearly more'n any kingdom I've known of. How's that possible?"
"Through agreements made by the gods. Thousands of years ago, the natural gods: Auril, Silvanus, Chauntea, Umberlee, Malar, Talos and Mielikki conceived of the system and as their druids we are honor and oath bound to follow it. If we do not, our longevity and magic is taken away and we live and die as mortals do." Aithwen gazed into the fire as she spoke, the sheer weight of her responsibility now visible to Rhyldan.
"Damn…" Rhyldan's eyes drifted to the fire and he sat in silence for a long while. "Why take away your 'longevity'? What's that mean?"
Aithwen exhaled sharply through her nose. "When a druid is strong enough, time, well, time stops. The eldest of the Rimes has lived for over twelve centuries and there are rumors that there is a Silvanite druid, a half-elf, who is nearly twice that age. So, taking away our longevity - our chance to keep our groves and knowledge protected - is a proper punishment for us."
Rhyldan licked his lower lip, a question burning his tongue. "Now, I know it's considered rude, but just how old are you, pet? You don't look much beyond your naming."
Aithwen smiled, "I know. I gained the rank of ArchDruid less than a decade after reaching my 100th nameday. After gaining the rank I officially became Aithwen Myrell, a combination of my birth and adoptive names, and time basically stopped for me. That was over two and a half centuries ago. While I am more than capable of changing my appearance with a glamor," She grinned over at the shocked look on Rhyldan's face as she changed her face to that of a tiefling - blood red skin, arcing horns, deep purple hair and shining golden eyes, "but I see no need to do so." She released the magic returning to her tanned skin, silver-red hair and ice-blue eyes.
"Cor, luv. You telling me you've lived through nearly four centuries? You look less'n a third o' that…"
"Heh. Been told that many times, and there are positives and negatives to appearing as young as I do, of course. Elven settlements are the most difficult to deal with as they all assume I am barely an adult and treat me like a child instead of a woman who has traveled all over Faerun, seeing and experiencing more than most of them will in their lifetime."
"Damn shame 'bout getting treated that way, luv. But I bet you have sutors everytime you travel, though. Pretty as you are…" Rhyldan picked at unseen dirt under his nails, hoping his fishing wouldn't be noticed.
"Oh, ha! You're so kind, but no." Aithwen shook her head. "Never been one for dalliances." She turned her head and lifted her arm to stroke the sleeping wolf pup lounging on the over-large chair she leaned against. "You see, each druid resonates with a different type of creature, depending on which of our circles they choose to dedicate themselves to."
"Guessin' wolves are yours then, pet?" Rhyldan relaxed his arms, hands dangling over his knees as he looked back over to the druidess.
"Mmhm. That they are. There are lots of druid secrets as to how that happens and why, but suffice it to say that I identify greatly with wolves. So much so that I share many qualities with them. Dalliances are just not part of our nature." Aithwen looked back to her guest with a wince, "Sorry, that's more information than was necessary."
"Oh, don't worry 'bout it love. You're an interesting woman." Rhyldan threw an honest smile the druid's way before his more snarky nature morphed it into a smirk. "'spose that means I don't have to worry 'bout you sneaking your way into my blankets tonight, eh?" He was rewarded with a hearty laugh, the fox in her lap starting awake with the sound.
"Hope that doesn't ruin your nefarious scheme to seduce me." Aithwen ran her hands over her hair as she rolled her shoulders, the fox jumping away to snuggle against its companion.
Rhyldan sighed melodramatically. "Damn, and here it was such a well thought plan! Get caught in a trap, follow the bird, get in a fight, charm my way into your house, get you to feed me then take a tumble in your bed. How'd you see through me?"
Aithwen shook her head as she laughed freely. It had been a long time since she'd laughed so hard, her side actually ached. Catching her breath, she continued the game. "It was a simple deduction - all because I'm old, of course. Can't fool age!" Both elves smiled, still laughing. Aithwen spoke again before Rhyldan could respond. "You remind me of an old friend, you know. We used to sit just like this. It would annoy the hell out of the others…" Her voice grew quiet and her eyes went back to the fire, a wave of loss overtaking her as Rhyldan watched.
Sensing she needed a quiet moment, he stood as soundlessly as he could and fetched the cool tea and two cups from the table. Placing the teapot on the stone edge of the fire, he sat down a little closer than before. When he thought enough time had passed to warm the tea sufficiently, he grabbed the pot and poured two cups, lightly bumping one against Aithwen's hand.
"Oh, thank you." Aithwen took a sip of the tea. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to get all…"
"Don't worry about it, pet. I take it whoever your friends are, they're not in the world anymore?" Rhyldan asked quietly, taking a sip of his own tea.
Another sip of tea. "No. They're not."
"Long time?" Tea.
"Long enough." Tea.
Both elves sat quietly, their cups soon empty, lost in their own thoughts.
A sudden yelp startled both elves, their attention drawn to the foxes and fire cat. One of the foxes had a singe mark on its white fur and was hiding behind the other who was trying to appear larger and more threatening than it really was toward the cat who was nonchalantly cleaning a paw.
"Frost, Flurry! You know better than to try to get Binx to play, you furry little goblins. Come here." Aithwen scolded the foxes who slowly made their way to the druidess, a look of guilt on their vulpine faces. "You two. What am I going to do with you?" She chuckled and shook her head. "Well, I think that with that, it's time for bed. The wardrobe should have everything you need for a comfortable night. Feel free to move cushions or chairs as you see fit and rest for as long as you like. I will go into the forest tomorrow at dawn and see just how bad things are. Hopefully then I can make an estimate on how long you will have to stay here, maybe hunt a little too." Picking up the slightly injured fox, she stood. "Goodnight, Rhyldan. May the chill of night make the morning sun rise sweetly." Aithwen closed her eyes and inclined her head toward her guest before moving to the door that separated her private area from everything else, the second fox at her heel.
"Wait a moment, luv!" Rhyldan exclaimed and stood quickly. Aithwen looked back curiously. "Sorry if I brought up bad memories. Didn't mean to if I did."
Aithwen shook her head. "You didn't do anything wrong. I simply miss them is all. Anyway, it is past midnight and the sun will rise soon enough. We have both had an eventful day."
Rhyldan nodded, feeling slightly put off somehow. "Right. Well. Night then, pet."
"Good night."
The wind shrieked and howled, sending snow swirling around barren and broken peaks of blue-gray stone. A furious, deep throated roar reverberated around and through the stones of the arched twin peaks that sat at the northernmost point of the Ice Spires, sending old sheets of ice cascading down their slopes to crash upon the dirt and stones of the valley between them. The mountains were a network of winding tunnels, caverns sparkling with frost, cisterns of frigid water beneath thin ice and untold treasures locked within glacial walls. The lair of Crythruxos wound through miles and miles of stone and ice, delving deep into the earth and back toward the mountain peaks.
The white dragon raged, his tail and claws striking out against walls of stone and ice, detritus from both raining down on the cowering kobold who delivered the druidess' refusal and the news of his lieutenant's demise. That she-elf had been a growing annoyance for over a century, constantly refusing her proper place serving him.
"Master Crythruxos, forgive me if I'm wrong," a feminine voice rang out in a break in the dragon's loud thrashing, "but didn't the druid act as you planned?"
The white dragon paused in his actions, an uneasy calm suffused the audience chamber as cruel sapphire eyes turned toward the voice. "Briris." Sitting in an alcove a few feet off the frozen ground the half-elf drow magician appeared to be nonchalantly inspecting her long white enameled nails as the dragon's attention fixed on the small woman. Lowering his great head, Crythruxos stared at the woman who was sworn to him. A stream of frosted air curled around the alcove bringing the elf's attention up to the dragon barely an arm's length away.
"Master." Briris bowed her head, giving the beast her undivided attention and showing supplication.
"I may favor you, little half-breed, but questioning me is foolish." The dragon's blue eyes narrowed and the temperature in the cavern lowered dangerously.
"My sincerest apologies, master. I was simply wondering why, if everything went as planned, you would be so angry?" Briris spoke strongly, she knew the dragon hated being challenged but also hated weak things. He was fond of her not only for her magic and alchemical skills but her lack of fear in addressing him. She counted on that fact to keep the beast from freezing her to death out of spite. A deep chuckle sent an apprehensive shiver up her spine.
"I am not angry, little elfling. Simply setting the stage. The druid must believe I am beyond angry with her for killing my emissaries. That way she continues to act in the way I desire." The dragon's tail lashed out to hit the frozen stone, sending tremors through the rock and triggering another avalanche further down the mountain range. "Sacrificing them was necessary. As you are for the next step of this little game we now play. Is the powder ready?" Crythruxos inquired, turning his head exhaling his magic upon the snow of the chamber, breathing life into the frozen water. An ungainly being slowly rose from the white dusting on the floor.
Briris eyed the new animated breath the dragon made as it lumbered away without much thought. "Yes, it is." She lightly patted a hidden pocket in her dark gray robe.
"Good. Then go. Coat the bodies completely so there is no way she can avoid coming into contact with it. Even a few specks will set things in motion." The dragon smiled at the elf as she sprang to her feet and grabbed her cloak from where she had been sitting. With a smile and a little exaggerated bow she turned on her heel and walked quickly out of the cavern. Crythruxos laughed darkly. Soon, the damned druidess would pay for refusing him. Soon, she would be desperate for the knowledge that only he held. When her little secret curse threatened to burn her alive, she would come to him and offer her service and loyalty in exchange for a cure. Soon, she would be his to command.
Briris summoned her magic to speed her way through the maze of tunnels that kept the great white dragon's hoard safe, her hand drifting to rest lightly over the hidden pouch of powder in her robe. When Crythruxos first tasked her with making it, she was terribly confused. And curious. He wanted a substance that would trigger and speed the effects of a curse as well as augment traces of elemental magic within the curse. It was an oddly specific request, especially for the white dragon. He was an incredibly powerful white, but like most dragons of his color his intelligence and imagination were rather lacking at times. The druidess had denied him time and time again, angering him beyond anything she had ever seen. So his desire to harm her was no surprise, the unusually sneaky tact was. But it was interesting - different from anything the dragon had asked of her thus far. She struggled for over a year to create the first version of the powder in her lab in Crythruxos' lair, and after an incredibly painful failure that killed her assistant and left her bedridden for a month, Crythruxos finally told her what the powder was actually for.
Years before the druid came to the Ice Spires she had apparently fought with some priest from or to the elemental plane of fire. While she had won, she had not come out of the fight unscathed. The powder was meant to trigger and accelerate a curse the priest had managed to place in his dying moments. The dragon would give her no more details and she eventually concluded that he had no more information to give, which piqued her curiosity immensely.
She took it upon herself before her next attempt to try to find more information on elemental curses, even going so far as to travel down to Menzoberranzan in search of the obscure knowledge. While the dark elves knew much of curses and elemental forces, there was little that could shed light on whatever curse the druidess was under. She did make enough headway to be more successful on her next attempt, once she managed to escape the dark city.
Three more years and a trip to nearly every temple to gods of fire ending in the Kossuthian temples in Thay and she finally made enough headway to create the powder she now carried. She was really quite proud of it.
The so-called emissaries Crythroxus had sent that afternoon were little more than tools to set his scheme in motion. He knew the druidess would lash out and kill the witless kobolds for trespassing and making demands. Her part came next. In the past, the druidess had left the corpses of the dragon's servants for a night before returning to dispose of whatever remained after the forest had a go at them. Circle of life or some such naturalistic crap. While simply trusting the druid to remain a creature of habit was not something she herself was inclined to do, her master insisted that the powder be administered by using it to coat the corpses before she followed her pattern and disposed of the blight on her forest. He wanted no solid traces back to him being the reason for causing the elemental curse the druid was under to advance. Wanted it to seem like a coincidence at first, like his minions showing up right before the curse ran rampant was nothing of note. He believed that the druidess would eventually come to him to find a way to stop its progress and in doing so pledge her service to him in exchange.
It was a silly assumption, especially for such a high ranking Aurilian druid, but she could understand why he wanted to do things the way he planned. He wanted to be the one with the knowledge the druidess would need once she became desperate.
Stepping out of the rocky tunnel, Briris began moving swiftly through the forest the short distance to where the dead kobold lay. Reaching them quickly, she pulled out the large pouch of pale powder. Being careful not to actually touch the mixture and prematurely activate it, she began to liberally sprinkle it over the dead bodies, a sharp whistle of appreciation escaping when she saw what the druidess had done to the large stupid brute who had led this doomed little party. The druidess was capable of incredible feats of magic, nearly godlike. It was easy to understand why the white dragon was so desperate to control her despite the threat she posed. Maybe he would allow her a chance to study the druid so she could find a way to take some of that power for herself.
Once she was sure she had covered every possible inch of the bodies without turning them over, she allowed what remained of the powder to sprinkle onto the snowy ground. Speaking the activation word she noted with pleasure the angry, fiery glow that rippled out from where she stood before fading back to nothingness. Tucking the now empty pouch back in her pocket, she smiled into the moonlight and disappeared back the way she came.