Video - Both Courts

[bethmoras]

[ The feed flickers on, displaying an elf seated in one of the more comfortable seats that the library of Caer Glaem has to offer. Nuada is garbed in his customary black, pale hair hanging loosely over his shoulders, and stares straight at the locket. ]

Good day, gentlefolk. I seek the fell beast known as Greenleaf. If you are near the environs of Caer Glaem, my lord, I can be found in the library. I would like to meet you.

[ And now that the invitation (or challenge, depending on point of view) is out of the way: ]

I also seek stories, or information, from those who may share their worlds with my kind. My name is Nuada Silverlance, son of King Balor, of the Clan Bethmoora. Some of my people - our gods - fled from home many years ago, and I have long searched for their location.

Therefore, if anyone would like to share their legends, I would be a most appreciative audience.

[ The feed shuts off a moment later. ]

Comments

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[firith]

[ He tried not to laugh, but he failed. Tried so hard and got so far. ]

You take your life into your hands.

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[bethmoras]

[ Please. This is a serious attempt at forging bonds. ]

Perhaps, but I am willing to risk it. Never fear, I've not come to this meeting unarmed.

[ ... in a completely non-lethal way, Thranduil. ]

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[firith]

[ Better be non-lethal. ]

My gold is on the Greenleaf Beast, of course.

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[huntedby]

...you are of the fae folk.

[Not a true question, more a statement. There is respect in her eyes, and some contained wonder. They are tricksters. Given her own...situation, she should be more careful.]

I would gladly share stories. While others think they are myths, some of us know better.

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[bethmoras]

So it would seem.

[ Also a statement. He watches her steadily, expression neutral. ]

I am in the castle's library, if you wish to talk.

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[roses_in_winter]

...so that's your name. Hi, Nuada. I'm Kara. [She fidgeted a little.] I'm... I'm the wolf from that big feast.

...what kind of beast is Greenleaf?

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[bethmoras]

Kara. Yes, it is. So - you are a shape-changer.

[ He studies her through the locket screen. ]

He It is fell, from what I have been told.

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[gloinul]

Describe this "fell beast", if you would.

[It better not be the only "Greenleaf" he knows of.]

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[bethmoras]

The fell beast and I have not yet crossed paths.

[ Well ... ]

But I have been informed of forcibly being pulled into trees and challenged to feats of skill within sixty minutes of encounter.

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[lusiphur]

'Greenleaf' is a terrible name for a Fell beast. [He pronounces the capital letter] He sounds like a wuss.

[More nobility.... Why he even bothers, Lusiphur doesn't know, but if this Prince Nuada is in Caer Glaem, it doesn't much matter. So here's his two cents, Silverlance.]

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[bethmoras]

I did not name him, my lord. You would most likely wish to take that up with his father.

[ But what if he wants three cents, kiddo? ]

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[undividing]

A beast known as Greenleaf? [ so unsure right now. ]

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[bethmoras]

A fell beast, my sister. His father is an elven king here named Thranduil.

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[inafadingcrown]

[A raised eyebrow and the sort of tone that should be a warning to proceed cautiously.] "Fell beast?"

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[bethmoras]

[ He's just going to ignore that tone for now. ]

Indeed. A fell beast fond of trees and archery competitions.

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[sculptor_of_aman]

I know the one you ask for. Though I would hardly call him a fell beast.

But, you ask of stories of gods? I learned at the knees of ours where I come from.

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[bethmoras]

So I have been informed, but - as that is the description I was given - I will continue to use it until he and I meet face to face.

I ask for stories of legends, in the hope that I may find something familiar.

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[seidhe]

[ Iorveth laughs and he does not care to hide it. ]

Do you intend to challenge him? Or invite him to talk?

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[bethmoras]

One hopes the latter, but I am prepared for the former.

[ This is totally serious, man. ]

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[stillhope]

[She's been watching and... It's hard to hide the amusement shining in her eyes.] Quite a stir you've caused, Nuada Silverlance of the Clan Bethmoora.

I do hope clarifications have been made as to the fell beast in question.

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[bethmoras]

Truth be told, my lady, I did not expect such a stir.

[ He inclines his head to her image gracefully, almost smiling. ]

Indeed. I find the fell beast is even more legendary than first thought.

action » (sry for the teal deer...)

[orcsurfing]

[ This smells of his father's work, so he's not offended in the slightest, rather laughing cheerily in great amusement. A fell beast this time! What a way to meet new folk! All by his father's design, but it's quite all right, his plan too was to seek out Nuada once he returns to Caer Glaem for a time. He does not bother to respond with any sort of feed on the network, but rather like any self-respecting fell beast he sets out to hunt.

Which is not that great of a hunt, considering his quarry has made its whereabouts known right there in the challenge, but Legolas makes it so either way.

Fresh and sparkly clean (which his father apparently finds suspicious, though his hair, unbound, is already windswept) he strides along the long, long halls of Caer Glaem, robes fluttering in his wake like banners in midst of battle. Long it is, unusually for him, and all silver, not very beast-like, unfortunately, and neither is his appearance particularly fell, but that's about all he could get here when the rest of his clothing is dusty from travels and in a need of being washed thoroughly.

It is only by the library door itself that he stops and begins the stalking game, except without the stalking, merely with silence and hiding from plain sight. And this way he comes up behind the Prince, leaning over his shoulder, unbound hair spilling down in cascades, and he looks at whatever Nuada is looking rather than at him, curious. When he speaks it's with a feigned grave tone, though quiet rather than booming. ]

To summon me, the fairest of all the fell beasts, it speaks of either great courage... or great foolishness.

[ And really, he's half here for Nuada's benefit, should any of the folk offended on his behalf decide to take matters into their own hands, thinking this a blight on his honour. Swift like a serpent, he straightens up and steps away, finally coming into view willingly. ]

Do you have an offering to make me, Nuada Silverlance, or should I take what I wish? [ Eyebrow arched, and he holds his expression to the highest standards of regal, haughty looks for all the while that he speaks, and only a moment after he's done. A soft-edged, distinctly smaller copy of Thranduil he is in appearance (a frightening fell beast indeed), with his hair long as it is and unbound entirely even more so than usual. Even when his face splits into a broad grin, airy sort of laughter spilling along with lilting words. ] I fear books will not settle well within any beast's belly, and I think you have been told of my renown ah, ravenous appetite?

[ No, he has no idea what Thranduil might have spoken of him exactly, but he can easily imagine. ]

[bethmoras]

[ Legolas' stalking is indeed silent, and it is only through many long years of perfecting the art himself that Nuada only realizes he is about to having company - before the fell beast introduces himself - by noting the disturbance of the air currents in the room. That sense of knowing he is not entirely alone, simply because the library is otherwise unoccupied, allows the Bethmooran prince to remain as he is: seated in a reclining seat, legs braced against the floor in a deceptively lazy manner, hair fanned out against the chair-back behind him, hands in his lap instead of sliding the lance from its sheath at his hip.

The hue of his hair is close to a match for Thranduil's, insofar as Nuada was able to judge through the video, and he tilts his head back just enough to look Legolas in the face. It's a test - one prince to another - and he is ready to move at a second's notice from indolent lounging into a stance more suited to battle. ]

Perhaps both, your Highness. Great courage and great foolishness are most oft found together in my people.

[ He sets the book down - a tome on native linguistics - and gestures to a nearby tray of cheese and recently baked bread. Two goblets of honey wine rest next to it. ]

Will that quench a portion of your appetite? Or should I devise another meal more suitable to your hunger.

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[theywhowait]

I have heard the Lord of Ithilien called many a thing, but a fell Beast is a new one, sir! Yet, he is a good friend of mine, and I must ask if your intentions are good or evil.

[ polite but wary, because this is no one he knows ]

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[bethmoras]

[ ... Another one. How many bosom companions does this elf have? ]

I am afraid that question cannot be answered until I have met my prey and gained his measure.