<h4>Book 4: Chapter 16: Trunk Castle</h4>


    One of <i>many </i>buffs provided by the [Mother Tree] was that nts grew to maturity under its leaves within a day. That helped with growing buildings, food production, and <i>letting elves revive from the dead in a day</i>.


    There were limits of course. The soil couldn’t support constant growth, so it wasn’t a cheat for infinite growth, and it had to be done purposefully. But it allowed for some neat tricks when it came to city defense and nning.


    Joseph kindly exined this to his horrified dwarven guests after we regained our faculties uponnding. The trip down was, taken on its own, quite lovely. The bracing feeling of the wind in my beard, and the gorgeous view as our Kododos glided between the trees. It was pure joy. Like skydiving on a velociraptor.


    A beautiful introduction to the capital of the elven country of Awemedinand.


    The only bald spot had been watching a bunch of day-jobbersunch themselvesughing to shatter on the ground. Not exactly copacetic for a bunch of acrophobes.


    “Yer all mad,” Balin swore. “I finally understand why everyone thinks yer out of yer elfin’ minds.”


    He was dry heaving, white knuckles wrapped around his reins. To their credit, none of Team Brightstar had passed out, though several of our armypanions had. Their forms hung limply from their mounts.


    “Wasn’t bad at all.” Raysdotter said, though her knees were shaking.


    Kirk was the only one among us who lookedpletely at ease. Hell, he looked <i>picturesque</i>, straddling hisrger Kododo and looking about with the air of a man fully at ease.


    “I’d say they’re <i>Bark</i>ing mad, myself,” I muttered. “Since, y’know, they’re nts.” My own knuckles were a bit white too.


    “And theye back in a <i>day?</i>” Starshine asked, fascinated. “It usually takes over a year.”


    “Yes, unless lit on fire. As long as their seeds are able to properly spread from their corpse, and the soil is decent, a dead elf will revive within a year, most memories and their general form intact. There’s a little memory and physical drift, but not that much for each death. And the [Mother Tree] brings them back within a day, so they’ll be able to go to work tomorrow. It makes for a society of thrill seekers. It’s probably for the best; when you live for millenia, you tend to look for new things to try.”


    I stared back at the tree we’d jumped from. It was a pretty good distance away, and I wasn’t able to make out the… bodies. “They get their first form by watching other people, right? What about elves born in the wild?”


    Joseph’s mouth pursed. “We… don’t talk about wild elves.”


    “Oh, uh…”


    Lady Laurelstone pulled back alongside us on her Kododo, her face bright. “Good job everyone! The first flight can always be a little scary, but I can always trust my dwarf cuzzies to handle <i>anything</i>!”


    The grumble gave collective groaning gestures of affirmation.


    She smiled and pulled ahead of our little Kododo train to lead the way again.


    “What <i>is</i> she?” I whispered to Joseph.


    “Captain Laurelstone is one of our strongest [Kododo Knights]. They’re much like your Highwatch, patrolling the wilds around Tree. She was pulled from assignment and attached to your embassy to serve as your guide around the city. Not the most diplomatic, but she is brave, honest, and a terror in the saddle. She’s also quite used to dwarves, having been born in Crack.”


    “Why’s someone like that showing me around tha city? That seems a waste.”


    “It was part of Crack’s requirements before they’d allow a <i>national treasure</i> like a walking dungeone to Tree.” Joseph winked.


    “Ah.”


    We spent the hour or so threading our way through traffic. Our glide had taken us most of the way across the city, which definitely made the entire exercise make a lot more sense. Why waste time traveling thebyrinthine circr streets of Tree when we could fly over most of it?


    We were currently in the Boughs, and it reminded me a lot of Redwall, with the sheermercialism on disy. Unlike Redwall, with itsrge main streets and street-side vendors, the Boughs were multiple concentric rings of shops, each their own eclectic building style. There were evergreens with tiny alcoves cut into their bases filled to the brim with books, aspens with treehouses in their crowns and the scent of tea wafting from them, and an entire grove of willows serving as a ss shop.


    “Oooh, I need to get some souvenirs for Whistlemop,” I muttered as we passed. There was some impressive sswork on disy, and Raydotter had to bind and gag Flowerpott to keep the obsessive ss golemancer from running off into the store.


    “Willowtree ssworks does indeed have some incredible [ssblowers] on staff, but they pale inparison to the artisans employed by our Greybough consortium.” He pointed overhead at the grey, dying bough of [Mother Tree].


    “Ah, the name makes sense now.” I nodded, looking up. “Is that branch really dying? Why bother with something like that if it’s all an illusion?”


    Joseph sighed with deep mncholy. “Yeah nah, it’s not <i>really</i> dying, but there is a reason for it. You’ll learn itter. Our Consortium is indeed named after it; our headquarters is located directly at Trunk below it.”


    “Reason?” I needled.


    “All in good time, Mr. Ambassador.”


    “Is there a good ce to have dinner, Jo? I want to talk to you about my meeting with Tree’s Archis Academy, and um, other stuff.” Berry asked, butting into our conversation for the <i>umpeenth time that trip</i>. Seriously child! I’d thought after Sammy left the house I’d finally be free of girls pining after boys!!!


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any urrences.


    Joseph gave her a winning smile. “Yeah, there’s a lovely ce in Trunk that serves a scrumptious truffle mbe. I have reservations for us, actually.”


    Berry gave him doe eyes. I gave him rolled eyes, which Berry thankfully didn’t see. I was going to have to have a <i>talk</i> with Joseph and make sure he wasn’t leading her on though. I’d learned from Schist that he was over 700 years old, and Berry was at most, what, 25? That was an age gap bigger than Twilight. And that book was <i>terrible</i>.


    Our journey through the Boughs to Trunk continued as such. Joseph and I talked politics. Berry and Joseph talked culture and sweet nothings. And Balin and Starshine jumped on anyone that got within a meter of me.


    All in all, a lovely trip. The sights, sounds, and sheer majesty of doing it all under [Mother Tree] really made it all worth it.


    But then it was time for the hard part, as we arrived at Trunk.


    “Wee, Lord Roughtuff, to the Pce of Awemedinand!” Lady Laurelstone proimed, as she stood in her stirrups and gestured grandly at the grand structure we stood before. The pce was made of white stone, and stretched off to circle the gargantuan trunk of [Mother Tree]. It was nearly ten stories tall at the highest point, with wide witch’s caps, buttresses, crentions, and lots of other castle words. It reminded me of the Taj Mahal, but fatter.


    “Barck’s Luck Brother,” Balin whispered.


    “Thanks,” I muttered. “You’rein’ with.”


    “What!?” He choked.


    “You won’t be able to bring too many people in, Lord Roughtuff,” Laurelstone said apologetically, “My people can escort your luggage to the embassy. Or would you prefer your guards to wait here?”


    “Eh, my luggage is mostly there,” I pointed at Kirk, who waved back cheerily. “And other than Team Brightstar the rest of you lot can escort the luggage. See about getting it all unpacked, Kirk.”


    Kirk snapped a snappy salute. “Aye, aye, captain!”


    Joseph and Berry bent heads and whispered something before Berry gave him a kiss on the cheek and went over to Amethyst and the rest of her posse.


    Joseph began climbing the steps to the white stone edifice. “Well, let’s not tarry. The King is waiting to see you!”


    At that moment, another oddly fonted quest appeared in my vision with a *Ding!*


    Quest: Kill the King!


    <i>Kill the King. of the ELVES!</i><i></i>


    <i>King of ELVES in: 0/1</i>


    <i>Rewards: [Unstoppable], Deific Intervention x 1</i>


    Do you ept?


    <i>Yes / No</i>


    Solen’s Sticky Stinky Socks! NO! STOP ASKING!!!


    —


    As we walked through the halls of the Elven King, my guards were slowly stripped away until it was down to Balin, Starshine, Lady Laurelstone, and Joseph and I walking the thick carpeted halls.They were pretty much empty but for a few scattered guards, and all the impressive art and architecture.


    @@novelbin@@


    Unlike the living nt buildings of the rest of the city, the pce was wood, ss, and stone. On the inside, it looked less like the Taj, and more like the pce of Versailles, which I’d visited with Caroline once upon a time.


    Ah… Versailles. We’d eaten a lovely luncheon in the pce restaurant. A rice pf with chicken for me, and a shrimp and caesar sd for the wife. We’d paired it with a rugged white wine from the Loire region of france. A Sauvage to be more specific, since it was made with Sauvignon nc grapes, and used natural ‘savage’ yeasts much like ambic. It’d been earthy, and light-bodied with notes of apple. Sauvignon nc green grapes were a popr white wine grape, and were rted to the Cabe Sauvignon we grew at our chateau.


    Hrm. Maybe that was a good way to introduce beer, and maybe even different kinds of wine to the elves. They were so in tune with nature and nts that they might appreciate the sauvage style of winemaking. I’d need to experiment with my palette Ability.


    “Looks like dwarven work.” Balin muttered as we passed some especially fine woodwork.


    “It is.” Joseph nodded. “This pce was put together through the work of all the races. A dragon was even involved at one point; a renegade from the continent of Drakken.”


    “Is he still around?” I asked with genuine interest. A dragon! They’d fought against the Gods and lost, then gone into self imposed exile on the other side of the world.


    “No, he left on an adventure many millennia ago, and hasn’t been seen since.”


    Well, that was a Chekov’s Dragon if I’d ever heard one. Were <i>you </i>our renegade dragon dear Joseph? There’d better be a dragon by the end of this trip, or I’d be giving you two stars <i>at most</i>.


    “Was there a particr reason for so many different artisans?” Starshine asked.


    “Hmmm… yes and no. For Awedinand in particr, as a hub for the South and North, it behooved us to have a pce that everyone would find fanciful and familiar. For example, Whitewall in Kinshasa feels more like a tomb than a castle to my sensibilities. But with all the Gold and Silver and the white stone exterior, any dwarf can tell this is a pce.”


    We all nodded. That made sense.


    Our walk was interrupted by a handsome (for a beardless elf) beastfolk-shaped elf, who swept up to our party with a sh of sharp teeth and a swish of his satin cape. He was dressed in the eclectic wear of an adventurer; a mishmash of enchanted items that best suited his Abilities. I noted with interest that the usual ‘fur’ that one of the beastfolk would be covered in was green nt matter, while the ‘horns’ were the deep red of elven ‘hair’. He had a pair of bright and curious ck eyes that crinkled with happiness and his leonine nose and pointed ears twitched as he spotted our escort. “Ah! Lady Laurelstone! Is this our new Crackian Ambassador?”


    “Your Highness.” Laurelstone swept a bow.


    The neer turned his eager gaze in my direction. “It’s a pleasure to have you in Tree, Lord Roughtuff! I’ve been looking forward to meeting you! Prince Elijah of Raptor’s Respite.” He held out his hand for a fist bump and after a moment’s hesitation, I reached out and gave him one.


    “I greet you on this most auspicious day,” I said. “Yer the elven prince I’m ta give ess to Cascadia?”


    “If you would!” His grin broadened. “A new dungeon! What a rare opportunity! And am I correct in assuming you two are Balin of Goldenlight and Star of Silverlight?” He turned to Balin and Starshine.


    Balin shuffled his feet and flushed, and Starshine thumped her fist to her chest in a salute. “Aye! That we are, your highness!” She practically shouted.


    “I’m so d you were able toe! You were the first into Cascadia, correct? Perhaps we could chat about it over drinks? Or you could show us about? We’d be happy to take you around Anima Dungeon in trade!”


    Starshine’s bodynguage spoke of a dwarf bereft of words as the eager Prince tossed question after question her way in rapid fire.


    He probably would’ve continued if Joseph hadn’t cleared his throat and swept a courtly bow. “I do apologize, Your Highness, but His Majesty has summoned Lord Roughtuff.”


    Prince Elijah gave Joseph an arch eyebrow and scratched at his horns. “Uncle has, ay? Very well then, press on. I’ll send a missive to the embassy.”


    With that, he swept off in style, his leather boots cking somehow even through the thick carpet.


    “Shall we continue?” Joseph said, barely disguising a snort.


    “He’s… different.” Starshine said.


    “He is,” Lady Laurelstone smiled. “And a bit of a hard case. Just don’t beat him at anything, or he’ll never stop hounding you for a rematch.”


    “Speaking from experience?”


    “I’m a <i>very</i> good Kododo rider,” she sighed.


    “Competitiveness is a fine trait for a Prince.” Joseph said with pride. “Ah, we’re here!”


    We turned a corner and arrived at a pair of gilded doors. A pair of Mithril armoured guards stood at attention outside it. They gave us gazes that left the telltale tingle of Abilities being used.


    Joseph grandly gestured at the door. “The throne room of the King of Awemedinand, His Majesty King Ezrael the Third! And right on time, too!”


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