Tric and Heppa meet with High Lord Volas in the same well-appointed salon where they were initially commissioned for their recently completed mission. The forest has been at peace during their absence, so the protective bramble walls around his home are currently lowered. A short while after a servant leaves them to wait, Volas strides into the room, dressed in his usual lordly fashion: flowing cloak, puffy sleeves, elaborate embroidery, golden circlet.
Although Heppa is eager to tell Volas about the undead army amassing to their east, she lets Tric take the lead in this conversation. He opens with the information that Estbryn Forest is so prominent that it has been asked to contribute to the new protective council for the Grey Woods. “The Ka’lian sends their regards to you, high lord. We were able to meet with them in Wesmere after Heppa and I cleansed the Grey Woods. The Ka’lian requests the various major forests each contribute a shaman sentry to ensure it stays clean.”
“Cleansed of the shadow mages, not of the corruption,” Heppa clarifies. It will take a lot of work, for centuries probably, to deal with that larger issue.
Volas lights up at the recognition Estbryn Forest—and himself by extension—is receiving here. He makes a show of reading through the letter from the Ka’lian, but Tric can tell his mind is already made up. “I will bring this matter up to the council,” he declares, but likely he will simply inform them of the matter, rather than seek their input on a decision.
“I think we have a candidate shaman, Dicllon,” Tric suggests. “She showed a lot of initiative and passion dealing with undead threats here earlier this year. I think she might make an excellent sentry. And perhaps it would help her determine whether she wants to go down the druid path or the sorceress path.” With that matter all settled, Tric shares that they met with an elvish avenger of Wesmere about the undead activity in the area.
That gives Heppa the opening she needs to pull out her map portfolio. She and Tric had the commission from Volas to learn of any undead threats—their patterns, their trends—so that the council could anticipate when they might be a danger to Estbryn Forest. Now she lays it all out for him, interpreting her sometimes confusing notes for her audience. Her data is rather wide-ranging. She heard that there might possibly be undead threats south of the human capital Weldyn, down in the Dulatus Hills. She learned about—and personally experienced—necromancers in the Heart Mountains. The Great Forest is also currently facing some sort of undead threat. Things there were serious enough that they sent Lord Ardonath to gather allies. The orcish threat the horse lords told her about might be related to that, as the undead could be driving them south across the Great River. Or leading them south. And finally, she has eyewitness reports from Kachen that there is a separate undead army in the same general geographic region as the orcish forces.
As Heppa shows where the Horse Clans have encountered orcs, she casually comments that those humans believe the elves of Estbryn live within Wesnoth. She had sketched in their dotted border during her conference with the paladins. High Lord Volas is not as blasé about this matter. Estbryn Forest is his responsibility and his domain. Not only is there an undead army somewhere on the eastern edge of the Estmark Hills perhaps combined with an orcish army, but numerous human armies will be mustering just north of elvish territory at the start of spring. Some of them may choose to enforce the belief that this land is theirs. The high lord looks grimly at the map. Estbryn will definitely need to send an armed contingent into the fray, and not for the mere purpose of battling the obvious foes. The elves need a show of force to assert their sovereignty and make sure the humans do not overstep their bounds.
Tric assures High Lord Volas that he has arranged to meet with one of the ranking ladies of the human army at the beginning of spring. “One Dame Terwaen,” he says, not mentioning his relationship with the knight, “who, as I understand it, will be leading the horse lords.” He cannot resist embellishing his sister’s role and responsibilities a bit to fit the audience, just like back when he claimed she was a windrider at Dune School in Dan’Tonk.
Volas is not impressed, but Tric figures he has several months to work on the high lord’s disposition. Antagonism between elves and humans is not an ideal atmosphere for quelling an undead threat. Unfortunately, Heppa’s description of the political discontent among some in the Horse Clans further solidifies Volas’s distrustful position. Fortunately, this is too serious a matter for him to decide all on his own. “The council will discuss this,” the high lord declares, closing the topic, and Tric can see Volas really means it this time. Perhaps that gives him and Heppa another avenue of attack; there are other council members they can strive to influence before the thaw. Tric does not want his sister caught in the midst of elvish/human conflicts, and he is sure Heppa wants to see her boyfriend again.
“Oh, and I have a private matter to discuss with you,” Tric tells the high lord, once discussion of the map has wound down. Volas dismisses Heppa, and Tric reminds him of his previously expressed interest in Tric’s plans for the next few decades. Volas had suggested he could benefit from some mentorship from more experienced elves. Tric presents the letter from his grandfather that recommends Tric take up the mantle of lordly responsibility that has slumbered since Anador’s untimely death. While Volas looks it over, Tric launches into a speech.
“We met with our grandparents Cleomithir and Quaemilya in Wesmere,” Tric begins. “There was something they mentioned, which I think you brought to my attention before, but I’m only just starting to better understand. With Anador having passed so young, this leaves a gap, and there are important elvish responsibilities that are not being fulfilled because of that gap. It’s not my place to speak about whether Anador was or was not fulfilling those himself, but I think someone should. I met with my older half-brother Ash, and he is not interested in this. So, I’m asking what your opinion on this is, if that’s something I should pursue to ensure that things that need to get done, get done?” Tric tries to focus on the responsibilities rather than the lordly titles. “There are duties that need to be fulfilled, so I’m seeking an apprenticeship. I know I will need to develop my understanding of magic as well as of leadership and diplomacy.” Tric gestures at Volas as he says these, trying to appeal to the high lord’s vanity. “Martial prowess I already have covered,” Tric adds lightly as a jest, trying to lighten the mood from the earlier conversation.
“Don’t be so hasty,” Volas cautions him. “Did you think you would be leading the forces we launch in spring? You are too inexperienced for that. You cannot rush to scrape together the training for that. These are skills that take years to hone.” The high lord is not flat-out rejecting Tric’s request, it is just that the steps toward elvish nobility that he recommends are glacially slow.
“Oh, I misspeak, my lord. I mean only to take the first tiny step, stick my toe in, and perhaps seek some wider magical training that one in my position would not normally seek. Just as the smallest test.”
“If you can find a sorceress who is willing to spend her free time to see if you have even a spark of that power within you, then you have my leave to try,” Volas allows. But he will not reassign anyone from their current responsibilities. “You’ve done some good work under my seal, but you are right. It would be good for you to try something different. We don’t want to overburden you with too many responsibilities at once.” He holds out his hand.
Tric’s stomach drops when he realizes Volas wants his seal back. Looks like my emissary days are over, he reflects. Tric hands over the sign of authority, deciding not to mention the “consulate” in South Tower.