The Triad

Aribeth is happy to take the lead. "Great Corellon, thou Ruler of All Elves! We have been sent by the Triad to seek out the lost eye of thy sworn foe, the eye which thou didst smite from the face of Gruumsh! Pray, tell us where thou hast hidden it, and we shall end his reign of terror forever!"

Corellon blinks at Aribeth's flowery language, but then shrugs. "I don't have it. And as much as I would love to see the old fart get his due... I don't know where the eye is."

"Pardon the pun, but when do you last see eye-to-eye with it?" Zenithral asks. He wasn't surprised the whimsical god hadn't kept the ocular organ of the Orc Omnipotent. "In other words, who might know of its whereabouts, and where might we find them?"

"Any information you can give will be great help," Alalla pleads.

"Eye-to-eye!" Corellon's laughter flows freely. "I say, most of the poets these days are so drab as to avoid simple puns. You simply must come and visit more often!" Following their god's example, the watching eladrin join in with overly-polite chuckles of their own.

"Ah... I try to avoid thinking of that dark time." His face suddenly grows more somber, and the stars above lose their luster as gray clouds roll in. "I love a good fight as much as the next god, but with Gruumsh it was all rage all the time. I invited him to a peace treaty. And there he attacked me!" The First of the Seldarine draws forth his shining longsword. "For the first time in memory, my sword Sahandrian failed me. It shattered beneath Gruumsh's blow, and I barely escaped with my life."

Corellon's eyes shine darkly. "Little was I to know that Sahandrian had been cursed by my traitorous wife, Araushnee, who longed for my seat at the head of the Seldarine..." Glistening tears fall from the eyes of god and eladrin at the story of betrayal. "Of course, I had no idea of her treachery until later. But that is another story."

He lifts the sword higher, and for a moment night appears as day. "Just as Gruumsh found me again, wounded nigh unto death, the fairest of all the Seldarine, Sehanine Moonbow, came to me and restored my blade. With Sahandrian in hand, I stood and smote the eye from Gruumsh's face!" The eladrin cheer - politely - in response. "The One-Eyed God fled! And I collapsed."

"Sehanine's tears mixed with my blood, yadda yadda, and the elves were born." Corellon shrugs. "I never saw the eye again, and neither did Sehanine. I searched for it later, but to no avail. I assumed it had simply been destroyed, for if Gruumsh had found it, surely he would have put it back in its place." He pauses. "But if it wasn't... I suspect I know who did take it." A frightening look comes into the deity's eyes. Wrath.

Then it passes. With a sigh, he sheathes Sahandrian. "Go to her if you wish. To Araushnee. After that day, I gave her a different name. Lolth. She has made her lair in the Demonweb Pits, in the Abyss." Corellon seems truly grieved, proud shoulders sagging and his face drawn.

"Aha! Finally, someone who appreciates my humor," Zenithral grins at Halla and Alalla.

Zenithral listens intently as the god himself tell his side of the ancient tale. His stomach tightens and his eyes widen at the mention of Lolth and the Abyss.

"Are you only slightly certain it was her, or very certain it was her," Zenithral asks, wincing. "Because I'd rather only delve into the...Demonweb Pit, it was?...if we're confident."

Alalla returned Zenithral's grin with a wry smirk, but it vanishes quickly at Corellon's story. It's certainly dramatic, and his offer of peace to Gruumsh was interesting, but how much could be trusted from such a flighty being?

Zenithral's casualness with Corellon---he's always been flippant with authority---makes Alalla nervous, but who can tell how the deity will react. She waits patiently for Corellon's response.

Thunder rumbles once more, and the wrath begins to return to Corellon's eyes. "Slightly certain? Forget not to whom you speak, Zenithral Melerelel."

For a moment the elf deity's presence seems to fill the courtyard, or perhaps even the very plane. What might a being as mighty and mercurial as Corellon Larethian do on a whim?

Then he laughs, light and free, and the world seems to return to normal.

"I am as certain as I can be. When you've been around for millennia with the same old codgers, you get to know them fairly well. If anyone knows where the Eye of Gruumsh is, it will be the Spider Queen."

Corellon puts a finger to his lips. "And if you go there - and I have a feeling you will, indeed, decide to - how would you get there?"

"We must," Alalla agrees. Every nerve is on edge and ready to be free of the childish deity. "We can go there magically, if we find a key, or find a portal somewhere along the World Tree." She hesitates, and turns to Halla. "Right?"

"I...meant no disrespect, Protector," Zenithral says with a bow, almost unphased. "You used the word 'suspect', so I felt it prudent to clarify. Thank you for doing so."

With the lightness with which this god took his humor, and the fact that Zenithral had once stared down an infernal angel while being impaled by it, Zenithral wasn't quite concerned. He hadn't been smitten yet, but the warning was...probably a good one to remember when traveling across the planes of existence, he decided.

At Alalla's question, Zenithral looks to Halla as well.

Halla’s eyes widen as everyone (Corellon included) looks at her expectantly. She forces a smile and steps forward, grinding Zenithral’s foot down with her own as she passes. "I’m not exactly an expert on planar travel!" she hisses in his ear.

"Ahem. I’m afraid I don’t actually know if Yggdrasil connects to the Abyss or not… But yes, I believe I could take us there if I had the proper key."

Corellon chuckles at Halla’s not so subtle stomp, and eyes the druid as if noticing her for the first time. But then he nods thoughtfully. "I have just such a key. A tuning fork." He leans forward and cups a hand around his mouth conspiratorially. "Sehanine would be furious to know I still have the thing. Best I entrust it to you for safekeeping, hmm?"

He leans in still closer to Zenithral. "The best women are those who make us laugh and cry."

The deity dances back a step, voice pitched once more for everyone. "Well! I think it’s time for a feast! Won’t you all stay and rest your weary feet and sword-arms whilst I fetch the key?"

Alalla finally puts her finger on what---besides the god and his frivolous land in general---has her on edge. Zenithral never introduced himself by name. She's unable to keep from running her tongue over her tusks beneath her lips.

"Regrettably, my lord, we have responsibilities at home. We have to finish our work so we can go back before long. We've only just started, so we're not all that weary." She bows again, praying he doesn't take offence. "We're honoured by the invitation."

"N-n-not weary...?!" Zenithral exclaims telepathically to Fluphy.

He gives Alalla an exhausted sidelong glare.

"I was woken up in the middle of the night, whisked away to Trueheart, climbed the Great Oak of Kuldahar, traveled across the World Tree, fought invading slaadi, walked all of the way to the Arvandor palace, found out they needed to delve into the Abyss to find the Spider Queen, and now she's deciding we won't be staying for a divine dinner with the Ruler of All Elves?!"

"Er...excuse us, for a moment," Zenithral says, taking Alalla aside. He knew the god would be able to hear, but he didn't quite care at this point.

"I know you don't like this place," Zenithral whispers, looking between her eyes, trying to read her. "But not all of us have a dragon heart. We've been traveling for---well," He glances up at the inscrutable, alien sky. "Well, I don't know how long...but it's been a long day. I'd like to trust your judgement, but can we not accept the god's invitation?"

Zenithral has fought undead, giants, devils, even a demon lord by Alalla's side. Through those things he's seen her furious, defiant, fearful, and devastated. Sometimes all at once.

He's never seen what he sees now: an animal caught in a trap, looking for danger in every corner with no room for retaliation, or a bug in a glass waiting to be squashed.

Are you serious? You're three-quarters elven and he thinks you're funny! I'm the half-orc Daughter of Gruumsh!

Alalla does care very much about being overheard. "Oh... Yes. Sorry. We can accept," she agrees weakly, muscles screaming to run.

Aribeth and Fenthick speak in hushed whispers for a moment before Fenthick steps forward and agress. "A respite would indeed do us some good. Thank you for your generosity!"

Corellon flashes a smile and dissolves into wind, speeding away presumably to the palace, or wherever he keeps the Abyssal tuning fork.

With Corellon gone, the eladrin quickly set up for a feast. Much of the food is taken from the gardens themselves, and as soon as fruits and vegetables are plucked they are immediately replaced.

Ilvisar, introduces himself formally (and with more respect) as a high priest of Corellon and a master bard of the court. "Ah yes, this is a feast you will not ever forget! It is said by many that Arvandor is the perfect blend of nature and civilization, and you can see that reflected in our food..."

As he engages the party in small talk, Ilvisar gives hand signals to the other eladrin, directing them in their preparations. With his mind put to it, he proves a rather respectable host, spending time with each of the party members to ask after their interests.

"Zenithral, was it? I saw the way you peppered that slaad with arrows. I must say, you should try out Corellon's bow sometime. The First of the Seldarine is known to lend it out on occasion for aspiring archers to try..."

"Lady Halla, the Realms cannot have too many druids. Tell me, what do you think of Arvandor? Does not plant meet marble in the most pleasing of... Oh. I see. Well, if you have time, I would be happy to show you the forests and mountains round about...

"Really, that is where 'Moss' comes from? I say, that is one I haven't heard before. Well, if your old adventuring party could see you now, I'm sure they would find something more respectable to call you.."

"Erevain, I see you looking off toward the mountains. Did you know they go on forever? Arvandor is an infinite plane. Not a ten day goes by that some ranger returns to the palace speaking of some beautiful location he found that no one else has ever seen..."

"Lady Aribeth, I could see from your divine glow that you were the holy servant of a deity. Please, if it suits you, tell me how you came into the service of Tyr? ...Orcs? Reprehensible creatures, to be sure. Hmm... perhaps I could speak with the hunters and have them give you some advice in the best way to track and kill orcs. They think like beasts, you see..."

"Do try to relax, Lady Alalla. The guards have all been warned of the slaadi infiltrators, and we have means by which to ferret out shapeshifters. This is a place to rest. Or... perhaps you would prefer to spar with one of our warriors? I myself am regarded a fair swordsman among our people. And what of your people? My humblest apologies, but what was your surname, again?"

Alalla glances at Erevain, concerned about how taken he is with the place, but is quickly caught up is Ilvisar's questioning.

"Sorry, vigilance is a habit of mine." She wishes she had her glaive. You can grip a glaive tightly without anyone immediately assuming you'll use it on them. "My name was Cort, before I married," she hedges. "I'm, uh, one of the best, among my people. Thank you for the offer but I should try to rest."

Seeing Alalla terrified, Zenithral tries to console her, once the god vanishes on the wind. "We'll be out soon enough," he assures her. She needed...an assignment.

Zenithral telepathically relays a message through Fluphy. "He knew my name, and likely knows the rest of us. I can't imagine a fork takes long for a god to find, so he very well may be toying with us for his own amusement, but we probably won't get the fork any other way. Keep an eye on us. If anyone gets too far off track, you have my permission to give us a smack."

"Zenithral, was it? I saw the way you peppered that slaad with arrows. I must say, you should try out Corellon's bow sometime. The First of the Seldarine is known to lend it out on occasion for aspiring archers to try..."

"Me? Try his bow?" Zenithral asks with surprise. "Well, some might say I'm more than just aspiring, but that does sound appealing..."