Queen New Deal – Merla – 13.05.2021

---

“Good. You are here. I will have a problem, or, my mistress will. It is my desire that you make this not so.”

Merla had heard of the City of Coin, though it wasn’t until Mace called it such that she knew that moniker. Athkatla, as she knew it, is one of the larger cities in Faerûn, the capital of the mercantile nation of Amn. A place that was rumoured to have streets paved with gold.

“It has also been beneficial to you and the people you will become.”

They were not, though gold bought a lot of things in the city: a guide being the first thing their group needed, the second being information.

“I serve the Twilight Court.”

Elias was the one who spotted the child. His clothes were not threadbare but they were worn in a way that suggested he did not have much to his name. Appearances were everything in Athkatla. It tied one to status, prestige, and worth. If truth were told, it confused Merla, but many things on the Material Plane still managed to confound her. Even so, she could not help but think the young boy, who was no older than the children of Thia’s Refuge, could probably have a more fulfilling life elsewhere. She wanted to do more to help him, but what else could she do aside from give him more gold? Helping him was not why they had come to the city.

“He has been bound by contracts in the past. There is some residue, some uncertainty surrounding him. If this uncertainty were to be clarified in the wrong way it would be bad for you and also for us.”

Their young guide led them to a tavern where Merla had bought an extremely bitter drink called kaff served in very small cups for herself, Igrainne, Mace and Taz, whilst the red dragonborn paid for the information they needed – where they could find the person they were looking for.

“It would be inadvisable, I think, to unmake him. Nevertheless, I will leave the details to you. What I would like is for him not to explore the contractual insecurities. I would like him not to press his claims. If you can convince him not to do that then…”

As they made their way through the cobbled streets, the fae-bard couldn’t help but feel wary of the metropolis. Her caution stemmed from knowing the practice of magic was outlawed within the city. Riding in on a clearly magical, fey mount had been thrilling in a risky way. The Cowled Wizards were the only group legally allowed to cast spells within the city walls. It had Merla looking over her shoulder in a way she normally wouldn’t bother with. Or perhaps it was something else, a shadow that followed in their wake.

“What kind of contract does this person have? Why would he be trying to feel out the boundaries of it? What kind of situation has he gotten himself into?”

They had managed to stay under the radar so far though. Making their silent way from the tavern, Elias guided them through the streets whilst they all kept an eye out for a three story brick house with a lone, stone gargoyle standing sentry over the property.

“His current situation I do not know.”

It had been described to them as a “relatively modest” abode. Looking at it though, the quite large and stately home almost appeared to be abandoned, the windows shuttered and no one seemingly inside.

Igrainne was the one to go up to the front door and knock, only to find it was ever so slightly ajar. Taking that as a cue for extra caution, Merla dismounted from Astra, telling her to follow Arkadius and Taz to the back whilst she, Elias, Igrainne and Mace went inside to investigate.

“However the contractual ambiguities that concern us are to do with this place, Daring Heights.”

It is extremely quiet and very dark as they stealth through the foyer. There are alcoves in the side of the walls for lanterns but only every third or fourth one has been lit. They peer into rooms that are dusty from lack of use and despite it’s well appointed and stylish fixtures, it is clear the house has not been cleaned in some time. There were also markedly empty places on the walls or on cabinets where pieces of art had clearly been displayed until recently.

A door at the end of the hallway is only slightly pulled to, allowing the soft glow of firelight to spill out. Elias, taking the lead once more, gets close and peers inside.

“Do you have a name?”

“His name is Willum Daffles.”

A figure sits in a wingback armchair in front of a very low fire, their legs wrapped in a blanket. They are alone in the dark room. As Elias softly pushes the door open Merla subtly casts a spell to detect the thoughts of the person she is hoping was the once called the Merchant Prince of Daring Heights.

“What is the Feywild’s angle in all of this?”

“Our interest is preventative. You are aware, I assume, that this city falls under the protection of the Bear King. It is therefore of Twilight’s concern what happens to Daring Heights. I believe that should Daffles return and press his claims it would cause chaos, unrest, perhaps even civil war.”

Merla had never met Willum but the human man before her was incredibly frail to the point of concern. He clearly had not shaved in days and his hair was clumped together in thin shocks of wispy white on his head. Looking past all that, Merla locked on to his eyes. They mirrored what she read from his surface thoughts, concern and resignation with the faintest light of hope. Once Willum sees Elias properly however, there was a hot spark of anger, outrage and surprise, before turning to confusion and resignation once more.

“You’re worried about the Unseelie, aren’t you? That’s their thing – chaos, unrest.”

“I have no concrete proof of their involvement but you are correct. It matches their operational profile.”

When Elias mentions Daring Heights, there is such a sharp bitterness that taints Willum’s thoughts which surprises Merla. The ex-Mayor of the Dawnlands city makes it very clear who this animosity is directed at, which only serves to concern Merla even more. It’s source is his longtime friend and co-founder for Daring Heights, Aurelia Archselon.

“From the small amount of observations I have made of your city and its governance, I believe there are factions that would support his return, just as there are those who would oppose it.”

“Someone has gotten to him then. This sounds like the kind of manipulation that the Unseelie would do.”

Mace attempts to sweet talk Willum, trying to find out exactly what it is he is hoping to leverage. It doesn’t take much prompting. In a sudden burst of energy, the frail man in the armchair begins to tell them of the woes that have befallen him.

It seems that over the last year or so Bad Luck has struck the once Mayor of Daring Heights with several key investments having fallen through. A ship wrecked in calm summer seas, insects destroying an entire silk shipment that Willum was set to import, a flood ruining the entire kaff harvest. All of these and more, unlikely and seemingly impossible events that seem to coincide with bringing him to the edge of ruin.

“Time is somewhat of the essence.”

“How much do we have?”

Then Willum tells them of a group of individuals who are willing to support his claims to Daring Heights, who, in fact, are encouraging him to press his claims. The fact that these supporters happened to appear so soon after all these troubling events occurred was not even a concern to Willum.

“That I cannot say. There are many possibilities, many futures as you would call them. Branches, from this point. Some arrive sooner than others.”

“I’m sorry Willum, I didn’t realise you had company. I hope you don’t mind, I let myself in.”

Merla and the others whirl around. Standing in the doorway is a very short, slight woman with very sharp features. She has pale blonde hair, dressed in very dark colours of purples, reds and blacks and her jewelry is very exquisite but understated. The most notable thing however is that none of them noticed the woman was there until she spoke.

Elias seems to have a moment where they might recognise who the woman is, but then Willum speaks.

“Talk of the devil.” He visibly perks up at the sight of this woman. “Elspeth, please, come in. These fine people have come to visit me from Daring Heights. They are trying to convince me that I should not press my claim – should not try to rebuild my life.”

“We haven’t once said that you shouldn’t rebuild your life, Willum,” Merla says, eyeing the woman he calls Elspeth warily. “We want to understand what’s going on here and your… business partner. Because you have been away from Daring Heights for years now. It’s not the same place it was. You think that Aurelia has all of this power, that she took it away from you. She’s not that person you think she is. We want to help you, truly help you.”

“To do what?” he asks, witheringly. “Walk away from my own chance at happiness? My only chance at greatness?”

“You think it’s the only way you can be happy? That it’s your only shot at greatness?”

“Look at me.” Willum’s face twists. “Look at what I have become. Look at what she did to me.”

“Aurelia has not done this to you.”

“She did not age you, time did that,” Elias adds.

“No. Pain did that,” Willum says, voice dropping low.

“Tell me,” Merla starts, stepping forward and angling her head in a way to gaze up at the bitter man before her. “When was the last time you had an actual conversation with Aurelia?” He looks away and that is answer enough. Still, she presses. “She has been your best friend for years, yet you have not spoken to her in many moons, have you?”

He cannot look at her when he answers. “No. No I haven’t.’’

“I’m sure if you reached out to her, had a conversation instead of assuming the worst of her you’d find something else, something truer. This, what is happening, we do this to ourselves. We think ourselves into circles over and over again, and people can perpetuate that, encourage it, making you spiral even further and farther away from the truth.” Merla looks at Elspeth as she says that last part.

There is the faintest of smiles playing at the corner of the mysterious woman’s lips, as if she enjoyed being brought into the conversation at last. She lays a gentle hand on Willum’s arm.

It’s at that moment Merla realises she didn’t notice Elspeth crossing the room to stand at Willum’s elbow. A shiver trickles down Merla’s spine and for the first time since the Raven Queen used her to get into the Black Heart Cabal’s Mind Palace, her scars give a short, sharp twinge.

“Willum, after all you’ve been through, after all she has taken from you, you would let these strangers talk you down?” Elspeth leans in a little closer to him. “Talk you, Viscount Willum Daffles, out of your rights? That is not the man I know.”

Something about this woman sets Merla’s hackles rising, but she cannot figure out why. Is it the way this woman is doing the same thing as Merla herself, saying words to convince Willum that would make him think she is right?

“I serve myself,” the dark woman says, the words from the continued conversation catching the fae-bard’s attention. “To a degree I represent Willum, here.”

No. There’s something more. Something else that is setting Merla on edge.

“To what degree?” Elias asks, suspicion making their light blue eyes into shards of ice.

“To the degree that we are both interested in seeing justice done. In seeing him restored to his rights.”

This is a person who knows exactly which string to pull at which moment to get the desired effect. Even though there is something unnatural about her, this dark woman is not manipulating Willum with magic. It is not enchantment magic per say but what she is doing is almost as effective as charming him. Merla sees it as Willum stands up straighter.

Elias reaches up to the blade of their scythe and taps a knuckle against it, causing the metal to resonate with notes – and magic. The air shimmers, the aurora borealis of their magic quickly making its way across to Elspeth. Her eyes dart up to it and then she smiles.

“Now now. Let’s keep this conversation civil, shall we?” she says with a subtle wave of her fingers.

Elias, to their credit, does not back down, but there is a heavy beat of silence.

“If it’s to stay civil, start talking. Who are you? What do you want? Speak plainly.”

“I have told you. I am Elspeth. I want Daffles to have what he deserves: justice and his rights realised.”

“Why?” Elias presses.

“Why do I want justice? What an extraordinary question.” She doesn’t laugh but it is there behind every word the dark woman speaks. “Look at him. Look at what has become of him. He once ruled an entire city and now he is a shivering old man, set alone in an empty house. If that is not worthy of pity I do not know what is.”

There was an audible scoff that sounded like Taz from outside the room in the corridor.

“He is an old man, yes,” Elias concedes, “but he is in a very vulnerable position. Is it pity you are giving him? Or are you just seeing an opportunity to cause some chaos by using this poor man for that end?”

“Chaos? Why would I desire chaos?” Elspeth asks innocently.

Elias shrugs. “Who knows. Why would you decide to help a random, strange man?”

“This is not a random, strange man,” Elspeth says softly, almost tenderly to Willum. “This is Viscount Willum Daffles, rightful ruler of Daring Heights.”

They were playing directly into the dark woman’s hands. Merla had to do something.

“It’s interesting that you say Willum is the ‘rightful ruler’, and yet here you are belittling him in front of us, saying that he is so little and weak.” The heat of Merla’s blue and gold gaze is great as she stares down the dark woman. “He has a legacy. Daring Heights is his legacy. He is more than what we see before us now.”

She turns to the once Mayor of Daring Heights and her eyes soften, a desire to reach through to him clear in every sharp and supple curve of Merla’s face.

“Willum, you have to understand that. What we leave behind is greater than us. We are to leave the world a better place than when we came into it – and you have done that. You aren’t lesser for not being there now. You chose to walk away. Do you remember that? I’ve heard the stories, I think we all have. But you chose – you chose freedom, to do something different, to start a new adventure. You’re trying to hold onto something that has grown beyond what it was. It’s bigger, it’s more, and someone is pouring poison into your ear to make you think that it is your right.”

“Did you build that place to rule it?” Elias adds questioningly.

Doubt starts to flicker across Willum’s face and his back slumps just a fraction. He casts the slightest sideways glance to Elspeth and the uncertainty only grows, until it almost looks like he’s defeated. Willum gently brushes off Elspeth’s hand.

“You’re right,” he says as he sits back down in his chair. “You’re right… What is the point of this?” He sighs heavily. “My best days are behind me. It has always been bigger than me, that city. Perhaps it is time to let the past lie.”

Willum fixes his gaze on the fire, looking lost in thought and memory. Merla’s heart aches for the man, and the way things have gone for him. But the cause of it all is still in the room.

As Merla turns back, the dark woman is looking down, a little smile in the corner of her mouth. She then looks up at Merla and says, “O very pretty. Very pretty. Well, I suppose we’ll do this the hard way then.”

All the light in the room is suddenly pulled into a black diamond ring on Elspeth’s finger, and any warmth from the low fire is gone. In its place is a bone deep chill and the sound of things moving in the darkness. It is disorienting, terrifying. Were Merla still scared of the dark she would be utterly panicked by what she couldn’t see.

Then she realises that she cannot see despite the lingering mark from the Raven Queen and Merla’s throat does start to close up as fear tries to choke her. But she hears the others spring into action and tries to take courage from their presence. She is not alone. They can stop this Unseelie Fey.

Quickly closing her eyes, Merla touches her eyelids and softly sings, “Gift me the Sight.”

When they open, she sees the figure of Elspeth, a blade in either hand, and four amorphous shadowy shapes that look vaguely humanoid, also carrying vicious blades. The shadowy forms begin to move forward threateningly to her friends. Drawing her rapier and singing out a trill of notes that calls the essence of Summer to her, Merla moves like lightning across the room to suddenly be in the personal space of Elspeth, an unbreakable majesty cloaking her in a fierceness that defies the darkness.

Elspeth grins at her as one of the shadow figures comes up beside Merla raising it’s blade. But as the fae-bard turns her gaze towards it, the heat of her gaze makes it cower away. Instead of attacking her it goes after Elias, cutting past their magical shield projecting around them. In retaliation, Elias swings their scythe, the reach of it’s blade cutting into Elspeth’s side despite how far away they are. Their strikes are precise and deadly, so much so that the focus Elspeth had on the darkness surrounding them dissipates, letting light and warmth into the world once more.

Then Taz comes up behind her, getting struck by one of the shadow fey. When he raises his vicious dark sword, there is a moment where Merla sees his arms shake. It’s not fear, from what she can tell. Taz’s fighting spirit is strong and unwavering. It’s his strength that is waning.

Elspeth raises a hand to cast a spell at the dragonborn but Merla stops the magic being invoked with a wave of her own hand. The dark woman hisses.

Bolts and arrows fly, each hitting their mark. As Elspeth tries to hold herself together, Merla locks eyes with the Unseelie Fey, a half grin sharpening her features as she twists her blade. Then she vanishes only to reappear in a succession of quick strikes, a puff of summer scented, warm air and a resounding, almost ear splitting crack as each strike of her harmonious blade makes contact with the incorporeal forms of the shadow fey attacking her friends. Every strike connects, and with each hit the umbral figures are blasted into oblivion, Merla becoming more radiant, like a living, breathing sun. She finally appears before Elspeth, piercing her dancing blade into her chest. The Unseelie Fey stumbles back, snarling, something feral in her gaze as she clutches the wound Merla just gave her.

“I think you know what to do next, Taz,” Merla asserts. Her eyes flick up briefly and he nods before tightening his grip on his sword.

In almost choreographed unison, Elias and Taz drive Elspeth further back towards the fireplace, critically wounding her. Despite the deadly strikes she is somehow still moving unnaturally quickly, almost like the more hits that connect the more the façade of humanity is slipping away.

Elspeth stumbles back again under the brutal onslaught, looking up at the three of them from under her brows, baring her teeth. Then her hand flicks out towards Willum and Merla thinks it is a spell, until she sees the glint of steel.

“Playing with blades? You’re going to hurt yourself!” Mace sing-songs, his words cutting through the air.

By some luck his quick quip manages to throw off Elspeth’s aim just enough. Instead of sinking into Willum’s throat the knife goes into his shoulder. He cries out and the dark, feral looking fey flicks one last withering look to Mace. As Elspeth begins to melt into shadows, she looks directly at Merla for a moment, and her face changes into that of a male eladrin, hair black with blue streaks. At his throat is a silver snowflake medallion. Merla’s eyes widen as she recognises who it is – Artemis Lahali of the Winter Court. Elias’ lover.

He gives her a wink and then the Unseelie Fey is gone.