Ulthuan

She glares at Avel. Not all are willing to be appreciative of those who have eliminated them from their chance for glory
As Avel walks from the ring, Calarion approaches him. "Congratulations on your performance," the High Prince says, smiling. "It must seem odd that your first victory was so easy." Before Avel can reply, another elf approaches. He bows to Calarion and to Avel, and then says, "If you have the time, the High Prince Finurair requests the pleasure of your company for dinner tonight, Avel'Firrodeth."
After the messenger departs, Calarion raises an eyebrow.

"Not just them. When you're with the High Prince tonight... keep an eye open. You understand?"

"I want you to spy on everyone. Rank is no obstacle to treachery. I do not accuse Finurair, but it may well be that someone in his household has the clues we seek. Just keep your eyes open, will you?"

"She's out of town at the moment, visiting Eataine," Calarion lies, his face absolutely inscrutable, and Avel has no reason to accept his words for anything but the truth."

"No, your companion Elshar found ample evidence of her travels."

Meanwhile, Aruthan arrives and soon locates Elshar - the tattered lion cloak is extremely visible in the crowd. Quickly he relates what Cendramir discovered, and how they are looking for the angular featured blond elf. It does not take long to spot someone matching this description - an elf matching the image Aruthan saw exactly is talking to a she-elf from Cothique. By the cut and colour of his robes, he appears to be an Avelorian.

The Avelorian seems completely unaware of Aruthan's approach as he moves to talk to another Avelorian. The chatter of the crowd stops Aruthan from hearing what they speak of.

Elshar nodded in response to Aruthan's suggestion to follow the female elf. Before starting to follow the elf, he removed his lion cloak, followed by the dark green cloak he wore beneath it, then he placed the lion cloak back on followed by the dark green cloak over the top. At least this way he hoped he'd be a little harder to recognise if he got spotted.

Once statisfied that the lion cloak could not be easily seen, he started following the elf.

Elshar follows the Cothiquan she-elf as she heads away from the convocation. She moves towards a small cluster of trees, and Elshar enters, his green cloak camoflaging him.
But not well enough, for once they enter the trees she stops and turns to face his approximate direction.
"Who are you and why are you following me?" she demands.

The Avelorians, meanwhile, move back to watch the next duel. Aruthan catches a few fragments of conversation - it sounds like they are discussing the chances of the two Avelorians remaining in the tournament, Aissa Oakcrown and Lonias Gladeborn.

Aruthan is forced to watch through the next duel, which he largely ignores, his eyes fixed intensely upon the Avelorian, who he has since learnt by further eavesdropping to be Lord Silveroak. Finally the duel ends, and Tythasiar Silveroak raises his hands to applaud - and as he does, his sleeves fall back for a moment, revealing a small bandage around his forearm...

It is now suppertime, and Avel makes his way to the ornate tents of Finurair. He is met at the door by the same messenger, who admits him to the presence of the great one, who rises to greet him.
"Avel'Firrodeth!" he says warmly, taking Avel's hand. "Please, have a seat," Finurair says, gesturing to an ornate chair of Avelorian design. Servants appear to offer some wine - and from half-remembered conversations with Galathalas on the subject, Avel knows he is being offered the very rarest and most expensive of Yvressan wines.
"I trust pheasant is an appropriate fare for a champion?" Finurair asks.

"Nonsense, Avel'Firodeth, you are no simple duellist. In a little over a year, so I hear, you have aided in the return of Alith Anar to Nagarythe, rallied the defenders of the Phoenix Gate when Prince Tyrion was wounded, uncovered a traitor who would have betrayed the elven defence to the druchii, thwarted the schemes of the Dark Master of Albion, defeated the legendary Lord Winter himself in a duel, and saved a city from cultists. Quite the travels, quite the exploits for an elf who was a simple captain in Eltharion's Anlec garrison a year and a half ago. Even Prince Tyrion cannot boast of as many exploits as you during this war."

"A disenchanted elf with the way that Ulthuan is run. Lets just say I've done my bit for Ulthuan and have gotten nothing back in return, I simply move from one master to another doing their bidding. The latest one is the worst, sending me ill informed on errands, I'd almost think he was trying to get me killed. I'm only looking for more elves who feel the same, and are willing to do something about it. " Elshar said coming up with hwat he hoped would be a plausable reason to be follow her, and that could possible lead him to her master or masters.

"But if you are not one of them...." he continued leaving the sentence unanswered as he stepped into the light, both hands on the hilts of his swords.

"What?" the Cothiquan demands incredulously. Her eyes flicker down to Elshar's swords, and then up again, and her own sword comes out. Too late Elshar realises that while he is a fully capable swordsman, he does not have the skill to defeat all comers. The she-elf's blade is whirling at him, and he manages barely to get his own swords out in time to parry. Astonished by the skill and speed of her assault, the Chracian is on the back foot. Were he to gain the initiative, it would be possible that it would be a more even fight, but the she-elf forces him back until his back meets a tree, then deftly disarms him with a set of flurries before striking him, hard, on the forehead with the flat of the blade. Elshar's vision blurs and he sways dangerously, and the sword smacks him in the head again, making his eyes roll up and his knees buckle as he collapses, stunned.

Finurair shrugs and takes a sip of his wine.
"You're also... well, a spy. For Calarion, I believe."

"I wonder if he trusts anyone really. Or if anyone really trusts him. Look at this - searching for some hidden cult, he acts as if it is only Saphery that has suffered and conducts his own private inquisition. It's shameful really. Come to speak of it, it's very convenient, isn't it? Calarion returns to Saphery, and immediately unrest sparks everywhere. But I speak idly, of course. I don't really think Calarion could be responsible. Do you?"