Ulthuan

Aicanor wrote:

Prince of Spires wrote:I sure Aicanor is actively trying to keep in contact with both Elessehta and Elithmar. But we can't do much beyond sending PM's.

This year, I'll require E-mail address as well, it will make things a bit easier. The risk is always there, but that's life.

Give it 20 hours and you can get something very nice out of the door.

I can't!

And I think Swordmaster has the gist of it. This is something we all do of our free will. It is not a contest. In ideal case, everyone wins.

And now if I can get Imrik to post here (if you can't log in, it is issue with cookies, you need to delete them - see the post above this one), we'll be good again.

Malossar wrote:I think we usually take sign ups in August and start work in September.

Aicanor wrote:Hi, sorry for the absence, getting back on track. There will be new Secret Santa and we are going to wrap up this one soon. Keep an eye on P&M section.

Elithmar wrote:A messenger tentatively knocked on the door and entered. Before him, Prince Elithmar testily opened one eye as he reclined on a couch.
‘Yes?’
The messenger gulped. ‘It’s from the Phoenix King, Your Highness. He wants you to undertake a very secret mission in Elthin Arvan at once.’
‘I’ll get around to doing it at some point,’ the Prince muttered sleepily. ‘Now get out.’
***
Six months later…

An Asur chariot glided gracefully along a dusty road in Kislev. The midsummer sun blazed in the bright blue sky, a colour mirroring that of the many jewels which bedecked the chariot and its rider. Although the scorched land was bone dry, little rivers of sweat streamed down the elf. As Elithmar wished Princes didn’t have to look quite so dashing all the time and could take off just a few layers of armour and rich cloth, he wondered if perhaps he should have set off a bit more promptly, when it would have been cooler.
Noticing a sign to some obscure human settlement, ‘Praag’, he directed his fine Ellyrian horses in that direction, begging the gods that there would be water there. He noticed a building (hardly a building really - where were the palaces in this land? The lowliest of his servants would die rather than live in such a primitive hovel) by the side of the road. He dismounted and staggered towards the door.
Barging into the hut (princes do not knock), he noticed figures in the corner. Mustering what dignity he could while feeling as if he might melt in the heat any second and leave only a pile of extremely expensive jewels and robes, he addressed them.
“I am Prince Elithmar of Lothern, son of Arnarion, Kordranar’s heir. Now get me some water, peasants, before noble line comes to a rather abrupt end.’
As they stared at him in amazed silence, Elithmar suddenly realized. ‘Don’t I know you? Princess Aicanor of Saphery, isn’t it? But what are you doing in such a godforsaken land? In fact, forget it, just get me some water.’
He then had another moment of realization and shouted,
‘Keep those sabretusks away from me!’ as a couple of cats approached him with an air of curiosity.

Aicanor wrote:After a moment of stunned silence, Princess Aicanor spoke in an amused voice. “Well, yes, I am Aicanor Nenuvar va Thiaran, Princess of Saphery. I am really, um, glad to make your aquitance, Prince Elithmar. Gentlemen, this is the man we were waiting for, for… well, let’s say… Eternity.” She turned to the cats circling the newcomer.
“Now, now, girls,”Aicanor addressed them. “I believe there can be no mistake. This must be Prince Elithmar of Lothern.” The cats didn’t seem so sure about this new arrival. What they were sure about was that they were NOT sabretusks.
“Please excuse them,” she said. “Teclis forgot them in the Tower and while they took liking to me, I am afraid he didn’t think to teach them manners.” She waved her hand at the cats and slowly returned to her, their whiskers still bristling at the insult.
“Shall we?” Aicanor opened the door at the back of the chamber. Soft breeze brought smell of seawater to the dark room and indeed, as Elithmar followed her out, he was welcomed by a well known glitter of sunlight on the waves. From the light haze at the horizon two needles pierced the sky, one was a familiar white shape, the other sapphire blue.
A boat was awaiting them right in front of the door. Prince Elithmar gaped at the sight. Or rather, he didn’t gape at it, Princes of Lothern never gape at the sea anyway. Maybe he showed a little bit of surprise that he managed to miss the sight before he entered the wretched building. Probably the heat.
“Is this enough water for you, Prince Elithmar?” The famed Prince came to the waterline and watched it critically for a moment. “It might be a bit cleaner.”
Aicanor laughed. As they stood there, Aicanor’s companions were busy loading a large, ornate box onto the sailing boat. Elithmar was not surprised. It was a fate of Elven nobles to be burdened with impractical (but impressive) jewellery at all times. But as he looked closer, he was intrigued. This chest looked Dwarf made. His need for water forgotten, Prince Elithmar jumped over the side of the boat, showed the men aside and opened it. And he gaped. This time for real.
“If you wanted to crown me a Phoenix King, you should have told so in the message. I might have gotten here earlier.”
He didn’t register the incredulous looks on his hosts’ faces.

Aicanor wrote:
@Rod, I hope you did appreciate the two towers in the story? Spires and Aicanor weren't scheming together for nothing...

Prince of Spires wrote:

Aicanor wrote: The towers of Spires are always available to those true of heart. And even more so for those who like scheming and work for the benefit of the City..

Andrew_uk wrote:Oooh Aicanor, that Freehand cloak is beautiful

Elithmar wrote:Is that everyone now?