Milai Malek Vision

“We are dwindling my friend; too long have we spent in isolation and now this!” The elf is clearly Drow; despite remaining in the shadows, the silhouette provides evidence that the voice emanated from an elf and the malevolence within the voice marked its owner as a Drow.

“Yes my Liege, the half-breed mage knew well our plan, I fear he will use our knowledge again.” Standing opposite, in the dimmed light, was a Drow of some significant stature. Both tall and broad he seemed to fill the space, sucking the light from the room. The silhouette opposite was significantly shorter and more slender. The lit elf carried a large helm of Greek style with cheek guards and a high crest adorned with purple feathers. His armour was mithril, covered by burnished sheets of metal fashioned to accentuate his muscular form.

The silhouette moved slightly, as if considering the point. “He will. It will not be something we will control; his mind is too strong for us.” His hand passed through his hair in an unconscious movement as if to signal deep thought.

The tall elf hesitated, “My Lord, we still have influence over others, less strong.”

“Yes, we do.” The silhouette seized on the idea and threatened to break out of the dark. “Perhaps we can ensure that we focus sufficiently on one of the elders to undermine the witch?”

“My Lord,” he said gaining in confidence, “I will investigate the possibilities personally. I have heard ideas brought to us by the new born; ideas of betrayal and treason.” The tone became conspiratorial as he continued, “They hold it that their very Gods are capable of such things.”

“Oh? How so?” Clearly this piqued the dark elf’s interest.

Picking up speed the large Drow paced as he spoke, keeping his eyes on is liege at all times, “Well, their Gods are imbued with such envy, jealousy and a burning desire for power, that they are prepared to kill their own kin in order to be elevated to higher office.”

“Ahh. And you see clear parallels with the older folk? Parallels worth exploring?” Another hand gesture moved the darkness.

“Yes, my liege.” The enthusiasm was contained, it was time for honest reflection, “Of course we are not in a position to remove the witch ourselves but he fights the Devil and both the Princely Demons that desire the Prime.”

It was time for the shadow to take control, “Of course, now that we are denied physical access to Crag Un, perhaps we could influence others to assist us…”

“My Lord, I am confident that I can exploit the weaknesses that I believe exist within the personalities of the Sylvan leadership.” The enthusiasm returned now control had been established. “Perhaps we should broker agreements with those that would carve up the Prime…Perhaps if we could deliver a tactical victory we would ensure a gate is opened once more.”

“It is a dangerous game…” the pacing began again in the shadows, “Have you consulted our Lady?”

“Yes my Lord, she is keen for us to spread our influence.” He gathered momentum, “She was also cautious about our continued occupation of the Island. Without a Gate we are not able to deliver the effect that she would wish;” and then the clinching argument, “our Lady has found us new accommodation: Morgrad.”

“Good;” the news seemed to have come as no surprise, “make the arrangements for our swift move.” The shadow appeared to turn as if leaving and then paused, “Do you have someone in mind that could be influenced – perhaps by offering a new dominion?” The smile was almost visible as the idea dawned.

“Part of Morgrad?” The lit Drow continued to face his liege and relished the question as he knew the answer.

“Exactly - the better for us to keep an eye on and ensure our Lady gets what she desires most.”

“Yes I do; he is a Sylvan elf, son of Nimsor and Elferielle, younger brother of Gelmir. His mind is ripe, bursting with thoughts of inequality, injustice and favouritism. Our Lady has already spoken with him.”

A pace back towards his subject marked his interest, “And how was that? Did she turn him away from those cursed elders?”

“Yes my Lord, in part.” The answer was cautious but optimistic nonetheless, “I will follow her early success with an offer of a kingdom to call his own, which may prove to be the tipping point.”

“Good.”

A knock at the door signalled the end of the conversation. The armoured Drow walked to the door, opened it and was confronted by a beautiful Drow dressed in lilac, purple and navy blue. Her long silver hair was swept into a pony tail and kept in place with a silver pin. Her young face was made up in traditional dark colours which accentuated her high cheek bones and full lips. But it was her eyes that were the most arresting. Each comprised deep pools of night surrounded by bright sparkling whiteness. Clearly a warrior, she wore Drow armour of ironwood and bore evil edged broad swords.

“Crianmar, may I convey some urgent news to our beloved King?” Her voice was smooth, slow and warm like molten magma and her look confident and unrelenting.

“My Lady,” the armoured Drow concedes entrance to the gloaming, bowing as he backed into the room away from the door.

Her confident stride reinforced the arrogance and the contempt for which she held her kindred. Pausing briefly to nod in the direction of the shadow which she knew to be her Liege, she commenced, “My Lord, I am certain that it has not escaped your vision that there are serpents on the inner planes which seek entry to the Prime.”

“It has not Lady.” His tone was flat, forthright, yielding nothing to her obvious scrutiny.

“Then it will not have escaped your notice how the enemy pander to such things of power.”

“That is indeed their way, Lady.” His was voice a mere whisper.

“Then may I propose that we seek and obtain the allegiance of these serpents?” Her eyes stared into the shadows.

“How do you propose to do such a thing and to what end?” The shadow was more audible and was clearly interested.

“There are some among us that can converse with the serpents; indeed there are some that know of the ancient ways of the dragon. They inform me that it would be a simple matter to ensure that these great beasts become the guardians of our gates to the inner planes.” Her confidence ensured that her argument was heard, “That was certainly help to ensure the enemy is unable to close one of our gates again!”

The Drow King thought for a moment and reached out a pale hand, in the palm of which was an orb. “Show me” he said.

“My Liege, there is one of the youngest who already converses with a serpent capable of crossing between the inner planes.” The female extended a hand and moved it back and forth over the proffered orb, “she is young but instinctively knows the ways of the serpent.”

“She is Sylph..?”