RP:Convince a Council

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Synopis: At the meeting of the Elves Council, decisions struggle to be made between a move to Frostmaw and an ill-advised war to regain Sage. Interrupting the council meeting Skylei proposes a third option, supported by council member Gilwen. It takes careful persuasion on the part of both Skylei and the elder but the plan to invade Trist’oth under cover of disguise is finally given the go ahead.

Old Camp

In the area where the vast majority of the exiled elves had settled, the council have chosen to hold their meeting. That same meeting had been dragging on for two hours now and, in spite of the cold, didn’t look likely to end any time soon. The elves who sat on the council were sat in a circle around a large wooden table. There were multiple fires lit around the area to keep the elder members of the council from falling ill and sentinels standing at each of the entrances to the old camp. Whilst not too worried about the presence of other sentient beings at the meeting, the real threat in Frostmaw’s wildlands came from wolves, mammoths and other nasties. Indeed, there had already been one interruption with a lone wolf threatening the safety of the council. Quickly dispatched, the talk at the table had barely been disrupted by the presence of the disruption. As for Skylei? She stands alongside one of the fire, making notes as to the decisions made by the council. As scribe and secretary for Aeth, one of the senior members of the order, she had been granted the privilege of taking notes, but seemingly not the privilege of a seat. The discussion on where the elves should call their new home had tossed and tussled between the factions of the council. By far the largest faction is those who spoke for Frostmaw; ‘the steward has already assured that all those of elven blood might be granted to live in Frostmaw in peace should they be willing to abide by the laws of the land’ Then there were those who argued for petitioning the governor of Gualon to allow settlement there, others spoke in favour of Chartsend. Every so often there was a mumbling of Sage but none had yet been inclined to outright suggest it as an option for settlement, purely because that option would require war. Skylei yawned loudly as the argument cycled through its fifteenth (or was it sixteenth?) spin. Elves are stubborn bastards at the best of time.

Gilwen had grown exhausted listening to the back and forth of revolving conversation, and had long since stood from the table to warm herself by the nearest fire. Syelnar and Maegus both had counselled her to remain silent for the duration of the meeting, considering the stir she caused with Skylei in Sage days prior. But, each time someone mentioned remaining rooted in Frostmaw, or relocating to another opened area that might accept them, Gilwen rolled her eyes and suppressed a groan of irritation before turning her attention to those of the gathering that had merely came to listen to the decision. She, along with many others it seemed, have never acclimated to the weather of Frostmaw, and dressed daily in heavy furs that covered crown to toes; but, even with all of her wrappings, she still found herself freezing in this frozen tundra. It wasn’t until the council cycled through their argument again, and the young elf she had fixed her attention too had shivered beside the fire, that Gilwen spun on her heels and slammed her open hand onto the table top, effectively silencing a push to petition Tristram for room in Gualon. “That is enough!” She snapped hurriedly, her gaze jerking to each body that sat around the table. “Don’t you understand? Frostmaw, Chartsend, Gualon… It’s not our home! No one wants war, but we all want our home –back-.” Her words were spoken quickly, to dissuade another voice from interrupting her tirade. “We went to war with the dwarves, who were once our friends and allies, because they harmed our trees. But we won’t fight the drow, our enemies, for our –homes- back? Have we seriously fallen so weak?” Immediately following her question, Gilwen’s eyes roved over the faces once more, a frown puckering the skin between her brows. “Are we really going to give the drow our livelihood simply to avoid dealing with them?”

Gilwen is quickly shot down from all portions of the table though with little enthusiasm. Of course all the elves want to return to Sage, of course all of the council would rather live amongst the lush greens of their home rather than the dreary evergreens of Frostmaw’s forests, of course they would rather have their own autonomy rather than living under the rules lain down by the Steward, “But,” concluded Elrohir, sat two seats to Gilwen’s right, “you have to accept the facts. We are a fragmented people, separated across cities and weakened by previous wars. How can you expect our people to fight again for what they have already lost when they are still mourning their dead, still picking up the pieces of their lives? It is time to let them heal, move all of our people up to Frostmaw and build a new community where all can flourish and thrive. So that one day we might be in the position to take back our home!” There are murmurs of agreement from around the table until Nienna begins speaking. Another of the oldest members of the council, her voice has grown frail with years but still holds a stiff authority, “How can you expect us to wait. For all we know, Sage will be cut down as timber or burnt down in the blink of an eye. The time to act is now.” The table would fall silent and, at that moment, Skylei sees fit to intervene, “Of course, there is a third option…” The half-elf offers no more and waits to be addressed before she speaks further. There is a chance, of course, that the half-breed will simply be ignored. She’s not exactly important, after all.

Gilwen temper was on the rise after being shot down, and once again fled the table to warm herself near a fire source. As Elrohir spoke, she turned her gaze over a heavily furred shoulder, “Why wouldn’t they lay down their live to retake what their loved ones gave their own lives for? If we can gather together under one untied cause, we should have all it takes to return home.” Her words were spoken nearly atop his own, and she sought to continue, but Nienna added her two cents to the mix, which had effectively painted a smile on Gilwen’s mouth. Despite the short silence that followed, the elder leader sought no reason to follow the elder council’s words with snide comments, and as soon as Skylei spoke up, Gilwen’s attention fixed firmly to the half-elf. However, those who sat around the table seemed less inclined to offer Skylei the floor to share her thoughts, and began murmuring amongst themselves once more about solutions to their problems. Almost in unison, both Gilwen and Nienna snapped for the remaining members of the council to be silent, though the latter’s was more out of curiosity than the respect Gilwen had developed for the half-elf. “Go ahead,” she murmured to Skylei as her arms crossed over her chest and her gaze roamed he faces around the table, as if daring one of them to speak up.

Skylei nods graciously to both of the council members who had granted her the ability to speak. Not but half of the council looked pleased with the decision. Sky expected they would all recognise the lines of her face. She saw no problem in reiterating her position as a valid member of elven society in spite of her tainted bloodline, “Ladies, Gentlemen. I’m Skylei Lucindio, daughter of Nasurate, and stepdaughter of Lady Liana, our last Archdruid. I serve Aeth as his scribe of late.” She would move around the table so that she stands opposite Gilwen, allowing her to make eye contact with the elder as she spoke. “What I propose is a third option. I agree with both sides of the table. The elves should group in Frostmaw and regain their strength -and- they should strive to take back Sage. How is that possible? Well, it’s simple.” Skylei spreads her hands and beams, “What do the drow have a great deal of that we do not?” She would pause and wait for an answer. One would eventually come, “Manpower.” Skylei nods her head, “Aye. So in order to succeed in retaking the forest we need to lessen their manpower.” She would pause once more and take a step back from the table, “I have a plan; one that I don’t wish to share for fear of endangering the council with its knowledge. Should it go wrong, I wouldn’t wish for more danger to be brought upon our people. I ask for one thing only; your trust.”

All were curious about the proposition proposed, but many were also skeptical. How would they not be threatened with more danger should this halfling’s plan go array? But what is it she proposes that will potentially decrease the man power of the drow? These questions and more threaded through the low hum of conversation as council members turned to speak to one another regarding the plan, but Gilwen’s voice cut through the cadence of murmurs before Elrohir, or another councilman could shut down the operation. “Perhaps if there was a way you could ensure that our people won’t receive the backlash in case this fails, we might be a little more at ease with the proposition.” Skylei knew that Gilwen would do whatever it took to see her people back within Sage, and while the council knew this as well, Gilwen wanted to assure them she did not act without approval. Few who sat around the table nodded in the wake of Gilwen’s words, having straddled the fence regarding rehoming the elven race, and others stared at the half-elf, expecting an asinine answer that would undoubtedly fail.

Skylei presses on with her explanation, hopeing to be able to convince them that her ploy was worth risking, “I think it highly unlikely to fail. It has been my work for the last six months after all; it has risks, I grant you that. For elves to venture into Trist’oth is, well, dangerous, but I have already enlisted the services of an illusionist in order that those who do venture below the surface will be fully disguised. What I propose to do is turn the drow against themselves. To make them think that one of them is responsible for the acts we commit. It is natural for the drow to be suspicious and devious, we are simply using their tendencies against them” Skylei would stop and judge the faces of the council. Most are blank, elven countenance disguising whatever it is they may feel, “I also undertook some recent reconnaissance work in Sage in order to study the target further only a few days ago.” Skylei is sure not to look directly at Gilwen at this point. She has no desire to irritate the one ally she had on the council by drawing her into the plotting. “I truly believe this is the one chance we may have to win back Sage without causing the death of more of our people.”

Gilwen had already been drawn into a small council meeting the day following the skirmish in Sage forest, given the rumors that had spread like wildfire, and had confirmed that she had been in Sage, and that she had been attacked, but the more elaborate rumors that she and an unnamed elf had taken down at least fifteen drow in a matter of minutes, or the fact that she and a nameless other had managed to kill Gevurah and hide her body in the sewers of Larket, were just that, rumors. So, when Skylei mentioned her reconnaissance work, a few council members she had met with turned a questioning gaze onto her, to which she answered with a nod but returned her attention to Skylei immediately following. “And who, exactly, do you plan to take with you?” Elrohir asked, slowing becoming irritated by the constant talk of retaking the Sage. “Those experienced with combat are needed here-“ It was at this moment that Gilwen spoke once more. “They’re needed here for what? Wolf duty? Are you so ill equipped with a bow that you can no longer take down a wolf? Granted, a mammoth might be out of your skill range, considering how old you’ve grown.” Nienna shot her a silencing look, which also forced Elrohir silent as well. “Unfortunately, Elrohir’s right; we need our fighter’s here- we can’t risk our best men to the Underdark, and unless you have a someone who’s agreed to this, I don’t see it working.” The idea of turning the drow against themselves had managed to any nay-sayers from immediately shooting down the idea, and, in fact, had left many of them silent while they thought. “And that’s why I’m volunteering, Nienna,” Gilwen said, cutting through the silence, as she nodded to Skylei. “Who is this illusionist?”

Skylei turns her head downwards as the council talk amongst themselves. She doesn’t possess the innate ability to disguise the way that she feels. She would only look up when she is addressed again, “I don’t need fighters, nor warriors, not even rangers. The party will be small, very small. At most, I would propose five of us, including the illusionist. My intention is that, should something go wrong,” She pauses and emphasises the next part of her sentence, “which is highly unlikely, it will look like vigilante action, not the action of an organised council. That is safest for all of us. All I need is those quick of mind and of feet and without fear.” Skylei sighs, “Not a small ask, I know.” She begins to pace around the table, the face that she was yet to be granted her wish beginning to worry her, “The illusionist is a pixie. Their magic is more potent than most, powerful, long-lasting and the pix in question is a long-time friend of mine. Loyal and talented. He can be trusted not to put us in danger.”

The council seemed to leave the decision to Nienne and Gilwen; the former, due to her age and wisdom, and the latter so that should anything go wrong, she could be their scape goat. “Nienna, I understand your hesitance on agreeing to this, but just think about it. If they succeed, it would be but a matter of time before the rest of the realm hears about it, and if we’re seen to have a possibility to reclaim the Sage, just think of all our kin that will flock to us once more. And, in the off chance there is no success in the plan, there will still be that rumor that there are drow seeking to cause a disturbance. Rumor has it they’re already torn as it is, between the new religion that seeks to get rid of the Spider Queen and do away with the matriarchy in favor of patriarchy. This is a win-win scenario, Nienna.” In the wake of her words, Gilwen glanced to the other faces of the council, “I for one, will not be known in life as a coward.” In the seconds that followed, a few heads nodded in agreement, other’s remained frozen without any hint of their thoughts registering in their features, but Nienna smile. “Nor will I. Skylei Lucindio, you have my vote.” Slowly, the remaining council murmured their agreement.

Unable to disguise her emotions any longer, Skylei lets out a gasp of relief as the council votes in her favour, Yes, there are still those with suspicious eyes that sit around the table, those who look like they would rather not have voted in favour of such a plan, “Thank you, Gilwen. Thank you all. I only hope that your faith is well-placed. Cowards we may not be, but we should always be wary of being fools.” I will ensure the council are informed of the result of the mission. Should you not hear from me then you will know why.” Skylei dips her head in a final showing of thanks, assuming herself excused from the council’s presence.

Gilwen remained with the council long after Skylei’s departure to steer conversation from the plot Skylei was hatching, and onto less important things, such as who they would send out to recover food, and how to deal with those who deserved punishment for petty crimes. It would be a boring task, but she was content to see it through given the approval of the mission.