Dellynthelaara swiped the long flowing robes of intricate golden threads weaved on spidersilk fabric. Skillfully cut gemstones, the worth of each would feed an army, glistened on six of her fingers. They cut the dark with their radiance. The pomp was becoming more of a hassle to wear, even silly but even she had to agree with the necessity for such an extravagant display of wealth.
Why did wealth become synonymous with power? The two always ran in conjunction, almost complimentary, but neither necessitated the other. The newly elected Overlord of the orcs proved to be a prime example of power wielded without wealth.
In fact, Dellynthelaara had to agree, the notion would make perfect sense in a ballroom of High-elven society or in the imperial court of the humans but she could not deny the lingering after-effects that it left with the sea-elves or in the dark-elven society. Her ornate hair ornaments, holding her silken long strands in braids, pinched at her scalp. The weight of the gemstones crowning those ornaments was every bit as alien as the ornaments themselves. Yet, she chose to wear those. She would need to display her wealth along with her power later when the need would arise to present herself outside their world.
Displaying them in front of the four who gathered before her, would ease her into wearing wealth, just as how she was eased from birth into donning power.
"Matron," uttered Sildavik, clad in a non-descript leather doublet. The sixth signet of the house Aealanninth gleamed for a brief moment on her fingers. The only sign of real threat that she carried on herself. Not that it mattered in that particular conclave.
Dellynthelaara waved her hand in dismissal at her spy-mistress. "Proceed," said the young queen. Acknowledging the unspoken question would lead to interrogation. They are here to answer her questions, not the other way around.
"Will she be joining all future briefings?" Sildavik's voice was composed, even somewhat calm, despite the nifty aspect hidden behind the seemingly innocent question.
"Would the presence of the half-elf bother you?" Dellynthelaara answered with another question. No anger, no condemnation. Just a simple request for a direct answer. She reminded herself that, unlike the others, Sildavik is her spy-mistress. Gathering intelligence, even seemingly isolated ones was her second nature, much akin to a serpent shedding its skin.
Her spy-mistress glanced up at her once. A narrow fleeting moment where both eyes met. A small, barely perceptible twitch of the nerves under her eyelid did not go unnoticed. Then, there was nothing but assurance, before answering in the same composed tone. "She will be a welcome addition, as your wisdom deems."
"Karlienne would represent some of my interest, in certain circles, indirectly." Dellynthelaara let her power and authority saturate the room. "Circles where I do not wish to make my presence known. Pay heed to her. Know that she operates in my capacity and do not stand in her way."
Sildavik bowed, though it was only with a gesture of her shoulders. While her Archivist and the treasurer of her house feigned uninterest. Only Karlienne shifted her legs, tucking them beneath the chair in acknowledgement.
"Now the reports." A tiny sliver of command still slipped out of Dellynthelaara's voice.
"Grand Paladin Champion Lord Mirnovian Zelaphiel Ellandor of the Order of Latent Divinity has been trying to establish contact with you, and only you in particular. Do you wish to continue disturbing his attempts... further?" asked the spy-mistress.
"Yes," replied Dellynthelaara. "It is absolutely imperative that the celestial mouthpiece does not put in his request through official means."
"Why?" Karlienne regretted asking the question too fast. The half-elven girl could feel almost all eyes mockingly glaring at her. But when she mustered the courage to look, she saw none.
"Because, if he did extend an invitation officially, then I will have to acknowledge it officially. That would make denying, a diplomatically dragged-out problem." Dellynthelaara tightly pursed her lips together, only those expertly trained could notice her teeth biting her lower lip. "I do not want to dignify it with a formal denial."
"But why would the shining golden child from the Order of Latent Divinity and the spearhead for the Elven-human alliance seek your attention?" asked Karlienne.
"Such actions could be ruminated over were he not an unaware puppet." Dellynthelaara allowed a heavy pause. Her Sharp silence cut through the core of her conclave. "Continue, Spy-mistress."
"The defenders are holding High-Crag Hold. No resources were spent on actively gathering intelligence there. Any attempt, even passive ones, will not go unnoticed," uttered Sildavik with guarded wordings, not to mention the name of the one defending High-Crag Hold.
Sildavik should have known the behind-the-scene reason for the exile of Rylonvirah. Dellynthelaara did not want to tarnish her Spy-Mistress's intelligence by presuming ignorance.
Spying any further on The Aberrant Irregulars carried risks. Two great risks. Firstly, Rylonvirah had perfected the art of espionage. High-Crag Hold would tactically be defended against any form of surveillance. Secondly, Sildavik was at dark to her queen's own motives.
Dellynthelaara folded her arms across her chest, reminding everyone of her unfaltering gaze. Not even a sideways glance or shake of the head to indicate any discontentment with the report, but instead, a confirmation. "Very well."
"What is your stance here?" asked Karlienne, the question festering on everyone's mind.
"Here is your first training in political manoeuvres, Karlienne. What do you presume my move would be?" Dellynthelaara said softly, but firmly.
"You would not rush to the aid of The Aberrant Irregulars. Since you banished the commander High-Crag Hold, that would pit every great Dark-elven house against you," said Karlienne.
The commander and not her name and definitely not her relationship to her, Dellynthelaara noted. Karlienne is already picking the pace.
"You are not keen on the elven-human alliance. You have not made a non-aggression pact with the One-Horned Warlord. So you do not intend to let him succeed."
"There is much truth to your assessment," admitted Dellynthelaara, before adding a slight smirk.
"You have every bit of intention to destroy the One-Horned Warlord, but the why of it eludes me?" asked Karlienne, "If you are looking for a convenient opportunity to rise as a new power, the maddening horde is not the ideal choice. And if the reason is something more private, why not seek the High Marshall and the Elven Hero Raelian's alliance?"
"You mean your grandfather's rangers?" The smile never left Dellynthelaara's lips. "Come Karlienne, let us not insult each other's intelligence. Just like how you know about my mother, I too, am well informed about your heritage. But to answer your question, I choose to bring down the One-Horned Warlord because I feel our conflict is inevitable."
"Because of what Sinvaintra and her tenebrous weavers did to his ally, the stormlord?" asked Sildavik. "Do you believe he would come to enact his judgement on the Dark-elves?"
Dellynthelaara paused. A moment where it seemed like time stopped. When she eventually let her words flow, they were addressed to her Archivist. "Perhaps, you would recall me granting a fae scholar, unlimited access to our archives."
The Archivist nodded. No words. Just a simple nod to her queen.
"Meeting her made me understand a few. No... Rather brought in a fresh perspective." Another pause, longer than the last one. Dellynthelaara allowed her eyes to trail over her Spy-Mistress. Even her Archivist could discern the nuances in her face. "The conflict between us will happen. My hatred for him is unexplainable and intangible but I am sure the feeling is mutual. We will cross blades, and... attack is the best form of defence."
"So your interest in High-Crag Hold is..."
"... a convenient tool to keep the One-Horned Warlord focused away from the real threat." There was certainty and conviction in Dellynthelaara's voice. "That is why I have all four of you summoned here. I need each of your expertise."
Everyone remained silent.
Dellynthelaara turned to her treasurer. "Have you procured the fresh shipment of mammoth tusks from the market?"
"I have obtained what we could. Supply has dwindled in these times," answered her treasurer in a raspy voice.
Karlienne suddenly found herself the object of Dellynthelaara's attention. She knew the young dark-elf before her was shrewd, perhaps, even belonged to a different league when it came to plotting. Dellynthelaara would not rush into a fight. She would gain knowledge of her enemy's strength before but the how of it evaded her. It all came to the half-elven, as a very surreptitious realisation, that she is about to witness how Dellynthelaara earned her reputation.
"I have checked those mammoth tusks. Only a few are freshly extracted from this season. Most are older stocks, perhaps from previous years' hunts left in some merchant's warehouse for long," volunteered Karlienne. Her experience as a trader, even if it were with small trinkets, did offer her some unique perspective. She had seen how Rylonvirah planned her strategies, now she was eager to see how Dellynthelaara, who far surpassed her mother, fought.
"Archivist, how many clans are there in the north? And what is the size of an average hunting band?"
"About four hundred to five hundred clans. Almost all the clans would send out their hunting party to hunt Mammoths. Size of the party ranges from seventy to three hundred, depending on the size of the clan."
"So is it safe to agree that the lack of supply is due to every able-bodied hunting party being recruited into the horde of the One-Horned Warlord." Dellynthelaara narrowed her eyes slightly, as she beckoned her treasurer to bring her the ledger. "Assuming a hunting party needs at least twenty days to prepare the extracted tusk and transport it to the nearest village before resuming hunting again, and a fairly successful hunt of fifteen per season..." Dellynthelaara's eyes continued scanning the ledger at an incredible pace, assimilating information collected through decades in a single narrow glance.
Even though Dellynthelaara's words trailed and her lips shut stubbornly, face stiff like carved on a rock face, all four knew what the young queen of the Dark elves was attempting. Gathering intelligence. Not spying by sending infiltrators like how humans would do, or bribing with enticing offers like the High-elves. Dellynthelaara would extract the full picture by connecting the seemingly unrelated dots... with meticulous calculations.
It appeared as if Dellynthelaara's silence would stretch forever but that was the anticipation talking. "Comparing with the stable price and the supply of mammoth tusks from the previous years and with this season, and an average hunting party of hundred fifty, the One-Horned Warlord would have seventy thousand northern clan warriors under his banner."
Sildavik's forehead furrowed.
"He would have close to one-fifth of the number as additional mercenaries. Anything more he could not control the sellswords, and anything lower, he could not mobilise his horde effectively. So that is another fifteen thousand, in number."
Karlienne stuttered by the enormous amount of numbers churned out by Dellynthelaara's calculations.
"Those are the humans under his banner. Goblins, renegade orcs not under the Overlord's command, other wildlings... These things breed fast. So they would be three to four times the number of northern clans."
"Three to four times?" asked the archivist, almost confused by the estimate.
Sildavik volunteered. "Goblins will not attack caravans unless they outnumber the guards at least by four to one. For them to join their former tormentors means they should outnumber by a minimum of three to one."
"And anything more would lead to a logistics problem with sustaining for the One-Horned Warlord," added Karlienne.
"In fact, that is exactly why he is moving his horde down south." Sildavik agreed.
"That is partial grounds for his actions, though not his main motivation." Dellynthelaara closed the ledger with a snapping thud, the echoes reverberating through the silent room at her insistence. "He bids for ascendancy, which would pose a conundrum to my champion. His strength is somewhere between three hundred and three hundred and fifty thousand." Dellynthelaara concluded.
"Are you trying to prevent an all-out clash between two ascendants?" Dellynthelaara raised her hands, stopping Karlienne from straying further from the topic at hand. The ebon of her iris made her singular will manifest clearly for the half-elf to acknowledge. "Further reports."
Sildavik gave a side glance at Karlienne before clearing her throat. "Both Elphene of the Viridian Dawn Rangers and agents of Waerondil are combing for her. We have disrupted their search with false trails as instructed."
Dellynthelaara waved her hand to indicate dismissal. Before anyone could protest her involvement with the One-Horned Warlord's bid, she continued, "The meeting is done for today. I now call it an end."
Silence reigned. All stared at each other, unsure of the one they served. After several interminable charged moments of stalemate, the Sildavik opened her mouth, prepared to question but hesitated before resigning herself. "If you insist..."
"I do insist." Dellynthelaara stood. Her heels snapped at the rune-carved floor and echoed around the cavernous hall, accompanied by a sense of finality. The she strode out.
Without any additional delays, Karlienne followed.
"Dellynthelaara, a moment please," called the half-elf when they were sufficiently assured of the privacy.
"You are not convinced by my explanation." No accusation. No judgement. Dellynthelaara said her words in a matter-of-fact manner.
"No," said Karlienne. It was simple and direct.
"Would you believe if I were to say that I am guided towards a destiny to usher all of us into a glorious era?"
"You are too level-headed to fill your mind with such grandoise notions."
"Well," The sigh that came from Dellynthelaara was long drawn and ... tired. It made Karlienne want to brew some of her special concoctions to ease the dark-elf's mind, but knowing the infinite wealth that Dellynthelaara possessed, she knew her own efforts would pale. She could always reach out and give her a caring hug. That Dellynthelaara needed, in abundance.
"Like every living thing, I am motivated by a simple need... for survival." Gone was the icy power of a monarch behind her voice. "My sleep is haunted by a demon... or something worse than a demon. And my living moment is haunted by my mother."
"By her?"
"I fear one day she would return. To take back all that she wants. To crush everything that I have worked hard for. All to remind me that I am nothing without her."
"You could seek allies."
"There is something big coming. I could feel myself already trapped inside. Karlienne, would you listen?" Dellynthelaara's gaze was deep. Wild with fear. A little wild, maybe and terribly lonely. "...please?"
"Of course," said Karlienne, hoping she was right in trusting Dellynthelaara. She looked closer at the uncrowned queen as if begging the fates for an answer.
"I am certain I met your friend Cyrene in a dreamscape. It can't be coincidental since she appeared at the same instant as I was taunted by a sentient weapon... or perhaps it is more than that. I am now certain that particular Urumi consumes existence and it only answers to my mother."
"And Cyrene?" asked Karlienne in a hushed tone. "I am worried. She is... a special girl. Intelligent in many ways and yet innocent in the ways of the world."
"None. No news." Dellynthelaara shook her head. "This is where it gets complicated. First, Vangere is missing. Then Cyrene, the only person to unravel his work and the one to witness my struggle goes missing, along with the diplomat Antilorwe. Reports place Altonarrak at the site of disappearance but he hides his involvement. Now, the illustrious fool in a gilded armour, who was also at the spot is keen on establishing contact."
"Is it why you keep refusing?"
Dellynthelaara gave a silent nod.
"So whatever happened before Cyrene's disappearance, she revealed something about you? Something extremely important?" said Karlienne, who finally caught up to Dellynthelaara.
"The human and the elven forces collided at the same time. It is too surreal to be accidental."
"But there were others at the scene. There are leads in that direction." Karlienne urged.
"Where could I go? Every trial leads to a locked door. One of the human leaders, Merrick is missing. Lord Lucille T'Fyrestok is oblivious as a cave ape with a quill, and Tristan Kuhnhofer... his mind has been addled since his youth. There is also the additional problem of the Grand Dragoon of the Chrome shelled."
"The Margravine Sirenia?" asked Karlienne, slightly cocking an eyebrow in question.
"Yes, she guards her son like a lioness. Even his servants are carefully handpicked. Sildavik had tried. And failed."
"But there is one person who could still tell you what went there exactly. If you could gain the trust." Karlienne's lips drew wide, somewhere between a smile and a snarl. "Orc Overlord Urganza."
"She refused my invitation, multiple times."
"While others had to send spies to gather knowledge about the One-Horned Warlord's forces, you were able to gain the same just by observing a simple caravan trade." The half-elf drew close and laid a caring hand on Dellynthelaara's shoulder. A gesture she had never shared, not even with Arlene. "Think. Put your mind to it. Force her to approach you."
Then, there was the sparkle and the sharpened edge of a queen, glistened in Dellynthelaara's eyes. "That, I can do. Either Sanguinaris cooperates or the blood of the sanguine children will purify the rivers."
