Dargonesti

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Tall columns of smoke, bent by the southern wind, rose above the thick forests at the mouth of the Greenthorn River. Even more telling than the smoke was the debris filling the river delta and the Gulf of Ergoth: wrecked wagons, burnt timbers, and the bodies of men and horses. The civil war in Ergoth was moving ever nearer this once-peaceful coast.

High up in the crow’s nest of the Qualinesti ship Evenstar, Princess Vixa Ambrodel watched with concern the evidence of distant devastation. Her uncle, Speaker of the Sun Silveran, had dispatched her to this spot on Ergoth’s southeastern shore to rescue certain important Qualinesti elves fleeing the strife in that country. For two days she and Evenstar had waited in the sunny waters of the gulf. Of Ambassador Quenavalen, his family, and his entourage, there was as yet no sign.

“How now, lady? What can you see?” called a white-haired, older elf from the deck.

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