We learned that the Gnolls had, indeed, lost their fortifications on the Eastern terminus of the Trade Road. Something they would need to remedy unless they wanted their entire economy to crash.
Fortunately, Mag'stula had put away huge amounts of gold that would help maintain the status quo in the city for several months. But then there would be no reserve. She really left them in a precarious situation with her all or nothing gambit.
You'd still be hard pressed to find a voice of dissent about her in her former oasis stronghold. Many had begun worshiping her, assuming she had ascended rather than what really happened.
The truth was that she was slain in one on one combat with Carca. Carca's access to the amber being her advantage. And it was a powerful one.
We did find out that the fort at the Eastern terminus had been taken over by the Sand Elves. That was good news and made our upcoming adventure across the Waste that much easier.
I was looking over some hand-woven rugs of the type for which these Gnolls are famous. Covered in intricate floral designs, they were prized across the continent.
As I was haggling with the vendor, May came up and grabbed me by the arm, “She's back and we're due another audience within the hour."
“Okay, okay. He wanted too much anyway."
She gave me a look suggesting disbelief.
“You've been raised in the lap of luxury, you're married to the wealthiest Elf on the continent, and you're a Prince, yet you still have a hard time being rich. Buy the damned rug, Tendil!”
“I'm sorry, May. You're right. My father always preached frugality when it came to me. In hindsight, I really don't think he wanted a child. I was money he could have spent on women or gambling.”
"Look, My Love, I need you to have your mind focused on the task at hand,” she said with a terribly serious look on her face. "When we go before her today, I need you to mark every person you see in that chamber who isn't a Gnoll.”
She grabbed my left hand and shoved a ring on my index finger. It was a large gold thing with the image of an elephant on it.
“Now Tendil, surely you know an elephant never forgets, right?"
“Of course I know that, May, I learned it as a child."
“I was joking, Love. That's from a nursery rhyme."
Red-faced, I said, “I knew you were joking, Dear, give me some credit.”
She rolled her eyes, "Anyway, Darling, this ring is magical. When you see someone who needs to be marked, just tap your nose with your index finger. It will capture an image of whatever your eyes are focused on. We can go over the images later and I'll have Janiver do her magic to figure out who they are.”
I did recognize how important this was. Carca didn't just all of a sudden become an entirely new person. That's not how people work. She had to have been fed an amazing amount of propaganda and over an extended period of time.
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This was our chance to flush out the snake that had been in her ear. It's most certain that the person we found would merely be an agent of a greater power. Perhaps it all just led back to the Black King. Whatever the case, it must all be rooted out.
And so we went to this audience. The purpose of this event was ostensibly to petition the god, to beg for … I'm not sure. What do you ask of the God of Death?
The throne room was not that crowded. Perhaps fifty people were there including May and me. We could rule out anyone asking for anything from Carca. This person would already have all they needed.
The supplicants were mostly Gnolls. Doubtful it would be one of them as loyal as they all were to Mag'stula. That and a Gnoll would be noticed by everyone when they came to see Carca.
But then I saw her, hanging back in the shadows, a young Barrow Elf female in a hooded black cloak. I waited for a good look at her face and quickly tapped my nose. The ring made a little chirping sound and then went quiet. I hoped it worked.
I would keep my eyes open, but I was sure I had found our culprit. I tracked May down, up toward the dais listening to the pleas being addressed to Carca.
“Are you learning anything relevant, Darling?" I asked.
“It's interesting," she said, “They're all looking for a reversal of the death of a loved one, or are hoping to delay death for a loved one. There have been seventeen requests so far and she's granted none. But she's offered explanations for why each one was the correct decision. She's just dissuading these people from coming to her with their cases. In her mind Death is always in the right.”
"The good news,” I smiled, "is that I think I've found our villain,” pointing to the girl on the far wall.
“Yes, that must be them. Barrow Elves don't travel. Give it a few more minutes and we'll see what we can find out about that one."
Nothing else of any consequence happened while we were there, so we retired to our rooms. Carca promised to meet with us in a more intimate setting the next day.
Back in quarters, May asked for my ring. I gave it to her and she pressed the image of the elephant. With a satisfying light sprung from the ring, coalescing in an image of the girl surrounded by Elvish script. I could make sense of none of it, once again cursing my general lack of knowledge.
May translated for me.
“She is Lasca Grimriel, 125 years old, from Moss City, she's a highly regarded Warlock, hand picked to share Carca's patron, Death. She has followed Carca here in the past two days. Ah, here's an interesting bit, she was originally a Sand Elf, coming from their hidden necropolis in the middle of the Waste.”
"How'd she end up in Moss City?"
“Every few years Carca goes … sorry, went to the various Elven settlements to find new bodies to accept Death's patronage. Fledgling Warlocks. My mind is grasping at straws. I think she, being a Sand Elf, is very significant to the story. Her proximity to both Kruklig and Yis-Gláz riding with the Sand Elf caravans. I think she was a plant, Tendil, out there knowing Carca would choose her.”
"But wait, May, the girl in that image is a Barrow Elf, not a Sand Elf.”
"That's how quickly we can adapt, Love. Maybe in just 75 years. And it happens more quickly for the Barrow Elves due to the high concentration of necrotic energy in the necropolises.”
“So, if you went to live among the High Elves, you might end up with blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin?"
“Is that what you'd prefer, Sir? I'm most certain it can be found, and hastily.”
Placating her, "No, My Love, I wouldn't change a thing about you. Not for anything in the world.”
"Well, that's fortunate. Gray Elves don't change as quickly. I might end up with blonde hair, but it would take 150 years or so. Any children I have though, they would emerge befitting the environment they were born into.”
"Children, huh?”
"No, Tendil. We're not having that conversation yet."
"The idea seemed to appeal to you a great deal last night, you kept saying My Prince….”
"And that bit of knowledge means nothing. I was merely caught up in the moment. Whatever, go and brag to your friends.”
"You mean Margrin and Pelisir? They would have to pay me dearly for that information, several coppers at least!”
And that got me another good whack, but this time on a freshly healed wound.
“So you have to see if you can get more background on Syndial Nur-Hajisti, that will be hard, and on Lasca Grimriel. I don't want you out there too long. We may need you soon back in Nez Ambril. I know I'll need you.”