A Salientopolitan Welcome

The verdant forest slowly gave way to an eerie, foggy marshland with both flowing pools and fast running gullies of water that didn't seem to make a whole lot of sense, flowing one way one moment, the other the next, with some areas even appearing to flow uphill. The ground underneath the shoes of all those not blessed with flight (or seemingly scared of it) grew soft and squelchy, and Saoirse complained loudly about how 'gross' nature was.

But then, with nothing more unfortunate than a narrowly missed chance for Anke to be sucked into an unexpectedly deep bog, they arrived at the edge of a settlement. Presumably, Salientopolis.

It was built of what looked like predominantly limestone on a series of mostly dry islands above a swampy lagoon. Large, elaborately carved, if somewhat grimy, stone bridges spanned the watery areas. A series of dome-roofed buildings of the same material rose from most of the islands, and a few in places entirely supported by heavy stone pillars that vanished into the water, adorned with fabulously intricate stained glass windows that, even as Marci looked at one, shifted and moved, changing via some incredibly subtle animation magic. There were well kept, if somewhat swampy gardens lining the wide stone boulevards and in the yards of the buildings, between which gondola-like boats were being poled around the local inhabitants, some laden with goods, others empty, one, nearby, full of uniformed beings with neat blue jackets, caps, and wickedly sharp halberds.

It was the beings themselves, however, that were the strangest. They looked like large (although smaller than a human) upright frogs, with skin-tones ranging from green to blue to yellow to orange. They had large protruding eyes, damp, slimy looking skin, webbed five-fingered hands, and enormous mouths.

Beyond their physiology, they wore primarily elaborate frocks and jackets and dresses that wouldn't have looked out of place in Marci's mother's court—which, when she thought about it, probably made sense. Eladraine had always been stiflingly conservative, perhaps the fashions they still embraced had originated in the Feywilde? There were cravats, and powdered wigs, and stockings, and leather shoes with belt-buckles like hundreds that Marci had owned when she'd been a princess.

The frog-like people held themselves with a profound sense of self-importance as they went about their day, stopping and tipping real or imaginary hats to one another whenever they passed—in places, every few meters.

Marci and the others drew some attention as they approached the town, and a pair of froggy guards with halberds and blue uniforms, buttons polished so brightly they seemed to glow, stepped out from the gates at the far end of a wide stone causeway and stopped them. Both of them had vaguely green skin, although one had more of a yellow tinge than the other.

"Hark, Outlanders!" said the yellow-tinged one.

"For you approach Salientopolis!" said the greener one.

"The Greatest City in the Feywilde!" continued the first.

"Ruled over by the wise and benevolent King of the Lilies!" finished the second.

"Oh… that's… wonderful," said Marci, unsure of which guard she should address. "I'm Marci, and this is Olaf and Saoirse and Tissa and Anke."

"How do you do, Lady Marci," said the yellow Salientopolitan, giving her an elaborate bow. "We are Lord Roux!"

"Oh, um, well, thank-you" said Marci, giving some approximation of a fairy curtsy.

"How do you do, Lady Marci!" said the green, repeating the bow. "We are Lord Renault!"

"Oh, um… Lords guards the gate here?" said Marci, not quite sure what was happening. "I mean, um, yes, I'm well, thanks for asking."

"Not at all!" said Lord Roux.

"We are most pleased and esteemed to meet a member of the venerable fairy royal family," said Lord Renault.

"It has been some time since one of your honourable people have come to visit our marvellous metropolis!" said Lord Roux.

Marci started. "W-wait- what?" said Marci. "How- how do you know that!?"

"Why, the cheekbones, your majesty!" said Lord Renault.

"Plain as day!" said Lord Roux.

Marci stared at them for several seconds, her mind trying and failing to figure out how in the hells they had worked that out from cheekbones. Then she gave up. Fey were weird, and she had some fey blood in her, perhaps they just saw the world differently…

"Wait, you're a princess?" asked Saoirse.

"Yes, technically," said Marci. "It's not important."

"So, Princess Marci, what brings you to our fairest of cities?" said Lord Renault.

"We were hoping to find someone to take us across the bog, to… um a Sorceress?" asked Marci.

"Only the King of the Lilies may approve travel!" said Lord Roux.

"Oh…" said Marci. "Then, can we speak to him?"

"But of course!" said the Lord Renault.

"Please, follow us!" said the Lord Roux.

The guards turned around in unison and began to march, as if he were in a parade, striding across a wide stone bridge that seemed to lead to one of the settlement's central plazas.

Marci and the others fell in behind them, only to almost immediately come to a stop as they paused to tip their caps to a nearby frogwoman with orange-ish skin an elaborate and heavily ruffled hoop-dress.

"How do you do, Lady Garnier?" said Lord Roux.

"Most excellently!" replied 'Lady Garnier.' "And how do you do, Lord Roux?"

"Well, thank-you," said Lord Roux. "A pleasant day to you, Lady Garnier."

"And you, Lord Roux!" said Lady Garnier. "And who are your friends?"

"Oh, and you must allow me to present Princess Marci of the good and noble house of Valmont!" said Lord Roux, before waving his hand dismissively. "And her entourage, some mortal riff-raff—servants, I presume."

Marci blinked and looked at the others, who all, understandably, looked quite offended.

"How do you do, your highness?" said Lady Garnier, curtsying to Marci.

"Err, well, thank-you," said Marci. "And, um, you?"

"Most excellently! Thank-you for asking your highness!" said Lady Garnier. "Have a pleasant day."

"Um, thanks," said Marci, beginning to fly forward slightly, only to come to another stop as the other guard opened his mouth.

"And how do you do, Lady Garnier?" said Lord Renault.

"Most excellently!" replied Lady Garnier, again. "And how do you do, Lord Renault?"

"Well, thank-you," said the Lord Renault. "A pleasant day to you, Lady Garnier."

"And you, Lord Renault!"

Olaf glanced at Marci, who shrugged. Her people went in pretty heavily for decorum and protocol and manners too, although not to this insane degree. The slight snub of the others was probably because they weren't descended from fey, or… 'quasi fey' themselves, and was rude, but personally Marci was happy that they hadn't had to go through such long-winded introductions and ritualised pleasantries with everyone.

They started to move again, only to immediately come to a stop as the guards reached where a well-dressed frogman with a bowler hat and an incredibly large monocle that must have been suspended via magic was just finishing saying his pleasantries to another frogman.

"How do you do, Lord Poirier?" said Lord Roux.

"Most excellently!" said the monocle-wearing frogman, 'Lord Poirier.' "And how do you do, Lord Roux?"

Marci groaned along with the rest of her party as it suddenly dawned on them how long it was going to take to get anywhere in this stupid town.

And, what, was everyone a fucking Lord here?