Nessalir the Red

Golden lights, fueled by magic the likes of which could not be found in the world of man, greeted Nessalir and her captive as they returned to the Court of Elves. After the horn sounded, mystic lights had appeared glowing across the Wildwood, guiding the hunters back.

Nessalir bound the assassin with a strip of fabric torn from the killer's tunic. The elf walked with an impressive amount of pride for a captive with hands tied behind her back. Nessalir guided the assassin through the Wildwood at sword-point, never letting the treacherous elf out of her sight for a second.

When at last the woods opened up to reveal a splendid courtyard decorated with golden lanterns, Nessalir breathed a sigh of relief. At last she could turn this criminal over to the Queen--and get some answers of her own.

The assembled elves were cheering as Finn held up the head of the Questing Beast and recounted his battle with the monster. Yet when the first eyes fell upon the drakkowar emerging from the Wildwood with a captive in tow, the gala soon found quiet.

"The Hunters of the House of Vines and the House of Branches are dead!" Nessalir announced. "This woman is their killer!" With that said, she withdrew her sword and shoved the assassin forward.

The bound elf caught herself before she could fall or stumble, and she stood proud in the light of the courtyard. She fixed her gaze upon all the elves around her, unflinching, as though daring each one to pass judgment upon her.

Yet there was but one soul present who could pass that judgment, and presently the crowd parted to allow Queen Eldorith ly'Boncyff to approach. "These are grave accusations, Nessalir," she said.

"Yet they are true," replied the half-human. "You will find their bodies in the Wildwood, slain from poisoned arrows--yes, and I imagine the same poison will be found on this assassin as well! Ask your new champion, Finn dy'Blodden. He saw the bodies as well."

All eyes turned to Finn, who looked away. "Yes, well," he said. "I found the body of Orov dy'Cangen. But Akirim dy'Gwinwyd, he was engaged in combat with Nessalir."

"He was engaged in combat with us both!" Nessalir snapped. "For we both believed Akirim to be the killer. Fynn left the battle when the Questing Beast arrived, to go chase after it He only stands here in victory because he chose to abandon the pursuit of justice."

Some elves gave Finn a reproachful glare, though fewer that Nessalir would have liked.

"The fact that somebody who was not a hunter was present in the Wildwood is suspicious enough," said Eldorith. "What say you in your defense… wait, I know you."

She strode forward until she was standing directly before the assassin, and the Queen studied her features carefully. "Clotho dy'Grwaidd," she said. "I saw you speaking with your Prince earlier this evening."

Immediately, Nessalir recalled the memory. The assassin had been the elf speaking with the Prince of Roots; the one who had made a hasty retreat from the gala and had not, Nessalir now realized, ever returned.

The same recognition appeared on the face of Eldorith, and quickly it was replaced with rage. "Archedes!" her voice thundered. "Show yourself now, Prince of Roots! How dare you send an assassin to interfere with our sacred hunt!"

Again, the crowd shifted. This time they revealed Archedes ly'Grwaidd. He looked to and fro, clearly searching for some route of escape, but found none. Thus, he turned his attention to the Queen, and schooled his expression into a defiant glare.

"You would accuse me of sending an assassin?" he demanded. "Very well--yes, I sent this assassin, for this Hunt is no more than a farce! The House of Roots will no longer sit idly by while the Throne of Thorns plays favorites! Do you fear us in the lower Houses so, that you will not allow us to even participate in the Bright Moon Hunt! I intended for each of your champions to fall tonight, but I see now that it was a mistake to send but a single incompetent assassin!

"I have traversed the realms! I have conversed with the stars! Who are you, Eldorith, to judge me? I am the prince of a mighty house! Soon, all of you will kneel to the majesty of the House of Roots!"

Without a word, Eldorith raised up a hand, and she swung a finger in the air.

Something rippled across the courtyard. The bits of plant matter in every elf's clothing rustled. A vine of flowers was resting over Archedes' shoulder like a sash, and roots were wrapped around his forearms like bracers. Each suddenly grew and split apart, tendrils of root and vine extending all across his body. They wrapped around his throat and tightened.

Archedes' eyes bulged as he realized what was happening. He opened his mouth, but already the vines about his neck were too tight for any words or screams to escape. He struggled, tried to lift his arms to claw at his throat, but the roots were wrapping around the rest of body, preventing him from moving. All the prince could do was stare in wide-eyed horror as the life was choked out of him.

He fell to his knees, and he spasmed, and he collapsed. The Prince of the House of Roots no longer stirred.

"I have passed judgment," Queen Eldorith announced. "For the lives taken by his order, so too has his life been taken in turn." She turned her attention now to Clotho, and the assassin paled when she realized that the Queen's gaze had once more fallen upon her. "Siuchrat, take this one to the dungeons."

"At once, my Queen," said her guard, appearing at her side. He put a hand on the assassin's shoulder and guided her away.

"I grow weary of the outside air," Eldorith announced. "Come, let us bring the festivities back inside for now. The outside will still be available to us on the morrow."

She strode away, back into her palace, and her guests soon followed. Nessalir spared but a single glance to the body of Archedes ly'Grwaidd. The roots now covered him, and sank down into the earth. Soon, she was certain, his corpse would be pulled fully into the dirt.