Narrated by Shae Strong and Randell Moore
The three days leading up to approaching the beastfolk city of Liallynn Mielwyn were blessedly uneventful, other than mounting activity as scouts flew (sometimes literally) back and forth between the caravan and their destination.
Ancient mountains, less dagger-toothed than their younger siblings, had begun to rise in the distance, the terrain becoming more rock than grassland and forest — though the going still wasn’t too hard, as it was mostly flat.
Liallynn Mielwyn nestled in the belly of one of these peaks, softened by wind and time, an equally-ancient refuge carved by beastfolk mages and expanded upon during the times of strife. The Golden Paladin and his retinue — including Hesa, Baleraphon, and Tiann’a — made their way to the head of the caravan upon the final approach.
A massive, banded metal gate set directly into the rock — vertically flanked by carved towers — was its obvious entrance. No announcement was made or necessary; the gate lowered with a ponderous grating in silent assent for their entry.
Waiting for them already were the representatives of the various species that made their home here. The monarchs of the Khahjiirah (feline humanoids), the Elder of the Ungar (bear humanoids), the Great Mother of the Beftix (ungulant humanoids), and the Chieftain of the Uhruhk (boar humanoids), stood just beyond the threshold, accompanied their respective guard contingents. The general sense among them was one of relief.
To prevent any potential (and unnecessary) pomp, the Golden Paladin bowed elegantly and pitched his voice to carry over the distance: “It is our great honor to call upon the peoples of Liallynn Mielwyn. I am the Golden Paladin, and my companions are from Arthur’s Kingdom.”
“After so long speaking with you only through missives, it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person,” the Beftix Great Mother said warmly, inclining her great horned head. She was short and rotund in a way that indicated impressive physical strength, dressed in looped layers of cloth made for movement. “Your troops must be tired from the march. Come, let us get them settled so we can speak comfortably.”
With that, the Golden Paladin gestured his caravan forward, and the descent began into the city. Its initial entrance was a long tunnel gently sloping down, currently dotted with spiked barricades the caravan had to navigate around, making it slow going. Knowing that getting the entire mass of Arthur’s forces into such a narrow passageway would take most of the night, the Golden Paladin and his leadership separated from them to follow the representatives into the deep.
The Golden Paladin noted heavy defenses aside from the gate and barricades; there was a secondary gate suspended from the ceiling, made even thicker and sturdier than the first, and wary-eyed, armored people lining the walls in such profusion that it seemed half the populace must have had a spear thrust into their hands.
The Golden Paladin’s stomach knotted. Scorched marks on the walls and dents in the stone of the tunnel told him the defenses weren’t for show. They had likely been under constant attack.
At the tunnel’s end was a wide maw opening into a cavern so large that the Golden Paladin briefly didn’t believe his eyes. A toothy ceiling hung far above, spiderwebbed with what looked like catwalks, but he couldn’t make out details from that distance. The stalactites were so far overhead that they were almost invisible, except for tiny dots of yellow light across the circumference of each stalactite, hinting at inhabitants. The effect was one of a limpid pool of stars stretching in a dome, a slice of space somehow suspended within the earth.
Interspersed evenly through the cavern were columns of spiralled rock connecting floor to ceiling. They seemed to be both load-bearing and a mysterious light source, as each contained a heart of blue light, illuminating the buildings crowded around their bases.
The city itself was laid out similarly to any other, with orderly buildings (made mostly of amberrock) in rows respective to their columns. The city’s paths were lined in crystals and pylons, providing a warm orange glow. Though this place could easily have been dark and dank and unwelcoming, it instead felt comfortable, like a perpetual mild summer’s night.
The group of mixed leadership took to the main path leading down from the tunnel entrance, though they paused at where it bottomed out into the maze of the city itself. There was some brief conversation; the representatives from the beastfolk informed the Golden Paladin where to send his troops to rest, and he sent his generals off to direct them.
As they delved deeper into the city, the Golden Paladin found himself again embarrassed. He shone brighter than any crystal in the place, which made certain that their procession drew as many eyes as possible.
“You certainly live up to your namesake,” the Beftix Great Mother rumbled a chuckle that shook her large frame.
“It … seems I do,” the Golden Paladin replied politely, though that wasn’t what he wanted to say.
“Is it not something you can control?” The Khahjiirah Queen asked. The voice emerging from between fangs and around her slightly-lengthened maw was liquid and smooth, and slightly accented.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Ha! No stealth missions for you,” the Khahjiirah King said in a similar tone. It must have been an accent specific to the Khahjiirah.
“I told you I wasn’t exaggerating,” the Ungar Elder snorted, prompting scattered laughter from the other leaders. “You have one of ours in your Kingdom: Mattan. I believe he has risen to the ‘Master Crafter’ position, much to our delight. He has passed on some note of his activities, and took the liberty of describing you.”
“Of course he did,” the Golden Paladin said, unable to hide his dismay. Now even Hesa had to stifle a laugh behind her teeth.
“I will not lie; we doubted, at first,” the Uhruhk Chieftain rasped around his heavy, curling tusks. “Many of our people, still bearing the scars from wars past, feel that faith has no place in their lives. When tragedy and ruin fell upon us yet again, we felt all we could do was wait for the end. It was too much to believe that the answers to prayers — prayers we hadn’t even dared give voice to — simply fell from the sky, gifted to us by some all-powerful being.”
“We certainly have reason to believe now,” the Beftix Great Mother added in a tone both warm and full of grief.
GP & co have finally made it to the beastfolk city of Liallynn Mielwyn — the first stop on their journey to unite the kingdoms against Merlin! The beastfolk seem welcoming, but how will the war negotiations go? See you next time!
N.A. Soleil is a portmanteau pseudonym of the two authors' names.
