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Imryll bolted upright, the halting judder of the carriage rocking her awake, “Kelor?” Her words laced with groggy excitement “Apologies about that my Lady, I thought you would appreciate the opportunity to look upon the city that one day may be yours…well through your hus…” The servant’s words cut short through a flick of her wrist, blackstone walls dotted with grand towers encircled the city yet none stood so tall as Castle Never, the gleaming gem within the heart of the jewel of the north built from a whitestone fashioned with colourful stained glass it sat upon a bend of the Neverwinter River and stood vigil upon its everwarm harbours. “Pretty.” She chimed hands fidgeting with the ring upon her finger yet her gaze lingered bitterly towards the human city and its picturesque coast, her fate and her entourage still remained some time away but it awaited her arrival all the same, she would burn it all if she could.
At first Imryll had hoped for some tragedy to befall them when they left the city of Rosh’ar the morning was dreary the sun for which the elves claim their name shined not upon the daughter of Holazorwyn a sign of the misfortune to come Imryll had first mused, would it be monsters? Bandits? The Neverwinter Woods held all manner of monstrosities their vileness matched solely by their strength or would her sentinels be enough to slay such beasts before themselves befalling to the foulest of monsters that prowl the High Road, Torstin Alagandor, fourth son of the King, and her betrothed, her human betrothed.
She laughed when she first heard of the match, the irony, for committing the taboo of fraternising with the other races, for bringing dishonour upon the proud clan of Holazorwyn and for finding comfort in the arms of another, one whose status her father did not approve of, the arrangement took but a fortnight. Her delegation was a mixed company Sun Elf Sentinels and humans sent by the Alagandor Family to ensure her arrival, the Men of the Graycloak were broad, fit, carrying a rugged Northern handsomeness some even came close to matching the height of their haughty Sun Elf companions.
They were lead by a member of the Neverwinter Nine, Sildrid Mountshroud an absurd woman at least to her eyes, the human was dressed in a typical outfit expected of her station yet the way it clung to the well-endowed woman’s curves was down right scandalous and worse. Yet she insisted on wearing a set of 4-inch heeled boots be it combat, patrolling, or simply riding a palfrey the human was never seen without them, despite the knight’s seniority the eyes that her strut drew from both the humans and the younger sentinels alike. The mere thought of being looked at in such a lusting manner caused a pang of ear-waggling jealousy within the modest Imryll.
It was not as if she was conscious of her body, dawning upon her 115 year lean of body and shoulder length dark brown hair, golden eyes that shined like the sun and bronze skin common of her people she possessed all the unnatural beauty often prescribed to the Tel-quessir. The journey had limited her wardrobe options; she often stuck to wearing red breeches that hung loosely to her legs and an embroidered orange blouse with exposed shoulders. Yet the colder air often forced the Sun Elf to wear a warm cloak, her original was of excellent elven craftship a silky stark black adorned with magnificent stars that glittered in the morning sun it clung to her shoulders as if weightless but also enchanted to keep her warm despite such loose fabric.
It’s beauty lost to the world as it had accidentally been discarded by one of the Graycloaks on the first night, the oaf spilling his foul smelling drink stained it a muddish brown and of course in recompense he frustratingly offered his own great white furred one in replacement, her outburst had certainly drew eyes like never before. There was of course Fen'harel he never did stop expressing his love of her, but in truth when attending the various balls and feasts of high society she was often overshadowed no matter how dazzling her attire, Edein was prettier, Melsarda a gorgeous smile, Ikeshia hips that promised a bloodline, Lusserina a cleavage to…
“My Lady?” The worried concern of the driver frustratingly crashing her back to reality, “I know it may seem unbefitting for your station Lady Holazorwyn but if you are worrying about your ring it will be complete soon enough.”
Imryll looked down above the ring that she had come to love to fidget with, hers was a golden band wrapped around by a cover of silver engraved with the words of bequeathment. Yet the driver’s meaning was obvious to anyone who viewed the betrothal gift, the mark upon her finger was only one piece of the complete ring, the other to be pushed into a sculpted receiving end at the ceremony. Dodging the servant’s question her hand moved to shut the carriage window, “That will be all the sight-seeing I need Kelor.” With a faint crack of the whip the carriage begins to trundle on once more.
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They arrived through the northern Blacklake gate, a swaddling district of respectable housing and enterprises, The blackstone seemed even more magnificent upclose, beautiful crenelations, artistic warnings etched the wall’s surface depicting Neverwintian triumphs, gruesome Luskar defeats and impaled heads of reaving slaugh <orc> warlords, its jutting towers were topped with catapults stocked with a seemingly deadly arcane-infused ordinance. Upon passing beneath the volcanic walls the convoy was halted by a minor force of motley dressed Greycloaks, their arms, armour and statue a much less impressive sight than what the Sun Elf had become used to during the weeks on the road, the meeting delegation’s mediocrity renewed Imryll’s sense of superiority even as she fingered the ring.
As the benign formalities subsided her troop continued through the winding cobble streets of the City towards Castle Never, “River’s heart, The River’s Heart, trinkets, rings and more get all your magical needs at the River’s heart.” She heard a crier call, Imryll found the hustle and bustling of the people to be comforting a reminder that whilst a predominantly Human settlement the City still had the usual hallmarks of civilisation, that was before the stink began to filter through the Noble’s refined senses.
Black’lake’ the Sun Elf summarised the body of water was known to shrink during the Summer months leaving a muddy and smelly patch of wetlands, as Imryll’s eyes began to water she regretfully opened the carriage window the stench from Blacklake becoming worse no doubt intensified by the sweaty human musk that wafted upwards and into the cabin. Mental respite came as she caught the eye of the most standout manor, a steel-wrought gate controlled the solemn entrance encasing the three story building was a study inner wall. Whilst Imryll had shirked her military education of the Crown Wars in favour of more romantic retellings it seemed to her as if the manor was designed to withstand a small army, the burly Uthgardt warriors that stood guard hardly helped to dissuade such a notion.
Dawning the castle’s street they were quickly ushered through a gatehouse, a drawbridge and a final gatehouse before finally spilling into the Castle’s back courtyard covered in shadow by the mighty fortresses it was a sight to behold, even if primitive in comparison there was a certain overwhelming presence in N'Tel'Quess architecture. The host that met them was of a disappointing quality whilst Imryll had expected a chilled welcome the lack of a fanfare still stung, fourth son or no it was still a royal betrothal yet her arrival let alone a company of Sun Elf Sentinels brought less than a dozen to their knees. Stepping from the carriage Imryll took in a deep breath;
“Alae aethan! <Fortunate meeting non-elves>” Her words brought a look of confusion from the attendees before a soldier clad in bronze plate stood up with a courteous bow.
“Alae Etrielaren Holazorwyn! <Fortunate meeting noble elf of Holazorwyrn>” A knot in Imryll’s back loosened the warrior’s elven was surprisingly elegant. The Bronze Knight towered over the gathering, broad in shoulder and most certainly muscles she no doubt struck a cord of fear through her enemies from the sight of her halberd alone, a white-wooded handle with a mean glossy red axehead that seemed to ripple with fresh blood in the Sun’s rays.
“Aegiskerynaren Taren Torstin Alagandor.<I am the shield guardian of Prince Torstin Alagandor.” At her annoyance a nervous smile permeated her lips.
The Knight matched the Elf’s smile with a tilt of her horned helmet, “Apologies my Lady for the lack of gravitas, certain matters of statecraft have called away many of the royal household’s notable.” The Bronze figure shifted, “But I can assure you that your betrothed remains within the capital ready and eagerly waiting for the aestar <marriage> and subsequent arkhlavae. <lovemaking>” The Knight’s tone betrayed an discomfort, clearly this one was cut from a more reserved cloth than the outgoing Sildred.
The elf’s ears frustratingly twitched; this was hardly the ceremony she was hoping for, golden eyes flicked between the gathered servants as unsavoury thoughts began pouring in, a snicker here, a smirk there, Imryll’s face flushed red, let us hope that these stares are simply ones of ignorance. If the lone Knight was anything to go off let us only hope that they do not speak such a refined tongue.
Her focus darted back towards the frustratingly taller armour-clad warrior, “And who might I have the pleasure of meeting?” Almost tripping over the words.
“Noona Winterbreeze.” The Knight’s pace seemingly matching the rose red elf’s desire to change the subject as quickly as possible.
“Excellent I think…I think it would be best to get this whole affair started,” It seemed as if the whole world stilled the words catching in her breath, Imryll swore she heard a screaming deep within, “Please Auglathla <Winterbreeze> lead me to my Tarenbril...”