Book 11: Chapter 65: Trouble

“Qin Lun, look!” Rand beside him suddenly frowned and turned towards the west; his bloodline was extremely sensitive to the concentration of fire elements.

Because of the celebration, the night sky was cloudless, with stars embedded like diamonds against the dark curtain. Yet, beneath this beautiful scene, thick black smoke rose into the sky west of the Palace of the High, accompanied by flames that reddened a portion of the horizon and the faint, distant sounds of crying and shouting.

This clearly wasn’t a celebratory bonfire feast hosted by the citizens of Silverymoon in the many squares. It was a fire!

“Why now? The banquet in the palace hasn’t even started yet. This is terrible timing,” Qin Lun and Hill exchanged surprised glances. Considering what was scheduled to happen this night, this fire was very likely an act of trouble stirred up by the Zhentarim.

“No, the timing is perfect,” Rand curled his lips slightly and said softly. “Fighting a fire isn’t just about extinguishing flames. It also involves caring for the injured, cleaning the scene, setting up firebreaks, preventing hidden sources from reigniting… It takes a huge amount of time.

“If they don’t send enough people, the Zhentarim will probably keep stirring trouble until the Palace of the High dispatches a sufficiently significant force of the Silver Guard to maintain order. For those guards, I doubt they’ll get to return tonight.”

“Lure the tiger out of its lair?” Qin Lun slightly raised an eyebrow. The older tricks were sometimes the most effective.

In reality, ever since Qin Lun had informed the Silverymoon City Lord about Angelo’s clue, he suspected her thoughts differed from theirs.

Elastor might not care about capturing every last Zhentarim assassin. Killing or not killing these few wouldn’t make much difference to the overall balance of power between the sides. Instead, what she cared about was the safety of the Lords’ Council members during the festivities. Denying the assassins entry completely would be the best outcome.

Therefore, Angelo’s likeness should have been distributed to the guard captains securing the palace. Any impostor appearing would be secretly captured immediately, then harshly interrogated, to root out all the rats hidden in Silverymoon’s shadows.

However, with this fire suddenly erupting, part of the palace’s Silver Guards would necessarily leave, creating defensive gaps. Thinking like this, the Zhentarim had clearly invested great effort into this plan. If not for Qin Lun stumbling upon part of the plot, their chances of success would have been high.

“Prince Firal, Lady Elastor requests your presence in the Banquet Hall!” As the three looked towards the distant fire, the Female Knight Annasilia, whom they’d met before, ascended the bell tower and spoke respectfully behind Qin Lun.

“Tonguesong? Are you a lesser branch of the Sun Elf royal family?” Seeing the Female Knight again, Qin Lun suddenly recalled something. He remembered that Milleras had once told him about some matters concerning the Cormanthor Sun Elves. The surname “Tonguesong” belonged to a very ancient Sun Elf family.

“Gold Elf, not Sun Elf!” Annasilia was slightly taken aback for a moment, then revealed a trace of pride as she corrected Qin Lun.

“Gold Elf?” Qin Lun’s gaze flickered. He shrugged indifferently and followed her down the bell tower.

The Sun Elf Court existing in Cormanthor today was indeed not called “Sun Elf” during the ancient times. They referred to themselves as Gold Elves or High Elf royalty.

Actually, the High Elves who fled from the Faeriel Elven plane to the Prime Material World of Toril included the Gold Elves, Moon Elves, Green Elves, and Dark Elves. These four elven branches together formed what were called the High Elves, with the highest status belonging to the Gold Elves, the original royal line.

Alas, in a new environment, apart from the Gold Elves themselves, the other three branches grew weary of war and Gold Elf rule, each choosing to build their own settlements. This led to the formation of over ten Elven Courts: Aryvandaar, Ilfaron, Ilisrui, Kaeldomo, Maiyelita, Seopia, Olyshire, Serthel, Eaerlann, Santa Osriel, and others.

Friction over politics and trade caused the most powerful Gold Elves to ultimately choose to launch the Crown War, resulting in the destruction of most Elven Courts across five conflicts. But the Gold Elves themselves didn’t fare much better. In the end, their Empire was destroyed by an alliance of Moon Elves and Green Elves, severing their lineage entirely. The remnant Gold Elves relocated to the Cormanthor Forest.

As for the other branch of the Elven Race, the Dark Elves, they became corrupted during the wars, transforming into Drow Elves, forever retreating into the dark and sunless Underdark.

The Gold Elves in Cormanthor Forest, having lost their heritage, gradually intermingled with other elven branches over the following centuries, forming today’s Sun Elves. However, traditionally, this group of Sun Elves still considered themselves the inheritors of the Gold Elves, hence royalty to all Faerûn Elves.

Of course, among the surviving Sun Elves, there remained a tiny minority of Gold Elves who kept tradition alive, refusing to intermingle with other elven branches. They never acknowledged being Sun Elves, insisting on being called Gold Elves.

They were naturally excluded by the Cormanthor Elves, which was probably why they ended up scattered in the territories of the Silver Marches, living among other races. Although these Elves considered themselves highly exalted, their extreme scarcity meant they were largely ignored by other elven branches.

Proud as a peacock, yet still just someone else’s guard captain!

A gleam flashed in Qin Lun’s eyes as he watched the Female Knight ahead. Despite Elastor’s status as a Chosen of the Gods, the Goddess of Magic Mystra did not belong to the Elven Pantheon. This was merely a slightly prettier fig leaf.

“Prince Firal, Lady Elastor instructed me to stay by your side without fail tonight!” Annasilia seemed to sense the gaze on her back and said coolly. “I implore you not to do anything… inconvenient.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t dream of troubling you,” Qin Lun said with a faint, unconcerned smile.

Annasilia sensed the dismissiveness in Qin Lun’s tone, her steps faltering slightly as she took a deep breath. The Female Knight only felt her dislike for the silver-haired Elf, who had previously caused her embarrassment, deepen sharply. He reminded her of another infuriating fellow back in Cormanthor Forest.

…

Following Annasilia, the group traversed several arched corridors and arrived at the bustling reception hall. The palace’s largest greeting chamber was now lavishly decorated, transformed into tonight’s main banquet hall.

Qin Lun swept a quick glance around the vast hall but recognized barely anyone. Guests of all kinds filled the space: elegantly attired Elves alongside burly Northlanders clad only in fur aprons; tall Half-Bings alongside stocky Dwarves reaching only to one’s waist, sporting thick beards and booming voices.

A small stage stood at the front of the hall, the Silver Marches’ great Star-and-Moon banner hanging on the wall behind. This served as the hostess’s toasting platform and the stage for musicians and dancers.

Above the hall stretched a canopy formed of thick vines, countless slender tendrils hanging down like an intricate spiderweb made of vines or a curtain bedecked with countless emerald willow branches.

These vines grew numerous fresh, tasty fruits. Qin Lun observed for a while and noted an impressive variety of fruits, dozens of kinds he mostly didn’t recognize adorning the tendrils.

Along the hall’s periphery stood over a dozen long tables laden with rare delicacies and roasted meats. In corners stood large oak barrels filled with ale, ready to draw from simply by pulling out the wooden stopper.

These barrels, however, were primarily for the Dwarves and Northlanders. Other Elves and Humans typically took their drinks directly from trays held by waiters. Evidently, the Silverymoon City Lord had invested considerable effort into this celebration.

“Firal!” A cheerful call came from the crowd. Qin Lun turned to see Iristin lifting the hem of her skirt as she ran towards him. Behind her were Idria, Mastashia, and Laini and Linda.

Iristin wore an exquisite, low-cut, corseted white gown, her silver tresses cascading like a waterfall down her back and topped with a meticulously woven floral crown. Her chest, while lacking Mastashia’s formidable presence, was perfectly rounded and pert, hinting at an alluring curve. A jeweled necklace adorned her swan-like neck. She resembled a fairy maiden stepping right out of an enchanted realm, causing Qin Lun’s eyes to light up involuntarily.

The four beauties behind her each possessed their own unique charms. Mastashia’s ample chest strained impressively against her knightly attire, seeming as though it might burst forth at any moment. Her athletic figure and long legs accentuated her wasp waist and full hips, enchantingly graceful.

Idria’s dress was similar, though her chest remained flat as ever. Yet, her resolute face radiated a different kind of spirited valor. As for the two beauties from Candlekeep, Linda had a playful, adorable aura, while Laini exuded mature composure tinged with scholarly refinement.

“Well? It seems our City Lord treated you very well,” Qin Lun remarked, offering the four ladies in their splendid attire a genuinely pleased smile.

…

“Esteemed Lords of the Council, welcome to Silverymoon as we gather to celebrate the Harvest Festival!” Just as Qin Lun and the others were exchanging greetings, Elastor, flanked by several elders, ascended the high platform and raised her glass to the assembly.

After a warm toast, the Silverymoon City Lord suddenly shifted the focus. “…Furthermore, Silverymoon welcomes an honored guest today, the Elven Prince Firal Moonlight from the Anke Elf Court! He has journeyed countless miles from Anke to bring sincere friendship to the Silver Marches. Let us raise a glass to him!”

Amidst the shocked stares of the gathering, Elastor pointed at Qin Lun amidst the crowd and raised her glass to him. Qin Lun offered a reserved smile, bowed slightly, and played his part in concluding the show.

As the glasses emptied, hushed whispers surged through the banquet hall. Clearly, this sudden revelation sparked numerous thoughts among the lords of the Silver Marches. Envoys from surrounding nations displayed surprise as well; they had received absolutely no intelligence regarding this matter beforehand.

“Firal! Iristin! Idria!” Suddenly, the crowd near Qin Lun parted slightly as a young Dwarf squeezed through, looking at them with delighted surprise.

“Lorlin? What are you doing here?” Qin Lun looked at their former Dwarf companion, his eyebrows rising slightly.

“Well…” Lorlin smiled sheepishly, murmuring, “Emily invited me. I haven’t returned to the Frostspire Mountains yet. For the past few months, I’ve been at a Shield Dwarf encampment in the southern foothills of the Spine of the World.”

“So happy to see you, Lorlin!” Iristin exclaimed happily, embracing the Dwarf. The others, including Qin Lun, also appeared genuinely pleased.

Qin Lun’s current joy wasn’t feigned. With Lorlin here, the Epic Plot related to Mithril Hall now had a point of entry.

“Lorlin, are you here as an emissary for the Shield Dwarfs?” Qin Lun asked with a smile.

“No, the emissary is one of Dwarf King Bruno’s nephews. I’m just here to see Emily!” The young Dwarf scratched his head, looking a little bashful.

Qin Lun quickly deduced the situation. Bruno Warhammer wanted to reclaim Mithril Hall. But Mithril Hall lay on the southern slopes of the Spine of the World, close to Silverymoon. Without the approval of the Silverymoon City Lord, success would be difficult.

Elastor hadn’t introduced any Dwarf emissary during the celebratory banquet yet. Either the alliance agreement hadn’t been finalized, or the Shield Dwarfs and the Silver Marches had a long-standing, discreet understanding that didn’t require further public acknowledgment.

“Firal, about Mage Angelo…” Lorlin suddenly lowered his voice, sounding hesitant. “Do you know?”

“You’re already aware?” Qin Lun frowned slightly, a puzzled look at the Dwarf.

“Yes, the Silverymoon City Lord discussed this matter with the Dwarf King’s emissary,” Lorlin whispered.

Elastor asked the Dwarven emissary for help? This news shocked Qin Lun. However, after pondering briefly, he couldn’t help but deeply respect the City Lord’s bold strategy.

It seemed “Lady Hope” hadn’t arranged things as they had imagined. Not only had she not imposed large-scale security, she hadn’t even notified the Silver Guards defending the palace. By turning to the Shield Dwarfs for help, she had likely kept the vast majority here in the dark. Her plan? Allow the Zhentarim assassins inside, then catch them in a trap.

“But wouldn’t the Silverymoon City Lord fear causing major casualties within the Palace of the High?” Rand, beside Qin Lun, overheard and couldn’t hide his surprise.

“Hah, that Lady Hope really is ruthless!” Hill clearly had figured it out and explained via the Team Channel. “She doesn’t care about a few deaths. Even if the Zhentarim assassinated several lords who opposed her, as long as the perpetrators were caught and exposed… well, the Zhentarim’s scheme would only achieve the opposite effect.”

“Exactly, the Silver Marches have grown too comfortable under Elastor’s leadership in recent years,” Qin Lun remarked thoughtfully. “If the Zhentarim conspiracy is exposed now, it would remind everyone that a powerful external enemy exists. That outward pressure would unite the Silver Marches more firmly. All opposition to Elastor would drown out amidst the fear sown by the Zhentarim…”

“Ahhh!!!” The sounds of horror ripped through the banquet hall just as they grasped the plan.

The crowd reacted as if whipped, scattering frantically to reveal a Half-Being convulsing violently on the floor, foaming at the mouth. The creature was humanoid from the waist up… but below, a pure white, equine body. It wore an elegant one-piece robe.

The Half-Being wasn’t dead yet. All four hooves flailed uncontrollably. Its face was twisted grotesquely. Deep within its once emerald-green eyes, a sickly grayish pallor spread… as if its very Soul had been violently wrenched away, leaving behind only an empty shell devoid of consciousness.

“It’s the lord of Quelva!” Lorlin murmured beside them with visible pity.

But Qin Lun paid him no mind. His gaze became like twin bolts of lightning, darting sharply across the panic-stricken crowd. The Yin-Yang Fish Pattern emerged within his left eye, casting the entire scene into a stark, monochrome canvas of sketched lines.

“Found it!” Qin Lon’s eyes suddenly sharpened, locking onto a hooded Mage slipping towards an exit on the hall’s left side.