What? The World needs saving AGAIN? IC Thread 2

[Xihirli]

Mab held him on her lips for a moment, then nodded.
”The art gallery it is - though it occurs to me that we’ll be passing the hall of poetry on the way there, if you’d like to make a stop.”

[Valmark]

"...is that a room filled with poets reciting their works all day? There's really everything uh" he nodded "We'll see when we get there" Sirthis went over to the door, opening it up and staying on the side.
"After you, love"

[Xihirli]

”No,” she answered.
”I hosted a disturbed elf for a time. He locked himself in a room of ice and coated the place in poems until the day he died. I keep it as is, I’ve not had use for the space and I quite like the rhythm.” Mab looped a hand around Sirthis’s arm and led him down a line of gemstones and ice, past a family tree of herself, a winter Eladrin King, and a daughter that she laid a hand on the lips of as she passed by.
”Poetry room’s here, to the right. Interested?”

[Valmark]

"Who's she?" Sirthis asked, seeing the gesture.
"I mean, of course she's your daughter, but I meant more specifically"

When they got to the door, he nodded.
"You can't really think I wouldn't check the room out after that story"

[Xihirli]

“Luckily for you, you’re going to hear all about her tonight. That’s Tochter, my first daughter.” Mab gestured to the poetry room.
“After you.”

[Valmark]

"Oh right, I remember you mentioning her name" he nodded.

Sirthis opened the door, letting Mab pass first before stepping inside himself, closing the door behind- maybe poetry was also on the door.

[Xihirli]

The door did have poems inscribed on it, most notably:

If Under fell, if Over leaped,

if life was death, if death life reaped,

Something rises from the gloom

to make the Underland a tomb.

Hear it scratching down below,

rat of long forgotten snow,

Evil cloaked in coat of white,

will the warrior drain your light?

What will turn the warrior weak?

What do burning Gnawers seek?

Just a barely speaking pup

who holds the land of Under up.

Die the baby die his heart,

die his most essential part.

Die the peace that rules the hour.

Gnawers have their key to power.

[Valmark]

Sirthis looked a bit creeped out.
"Did you ever learn who he was writing about?" he asked, inspecting the poem.
"Wonder who's the white warrior. Or the gnawers"

[Xihirli]

“Nobody, I would assume.” Mab shrugged.
“I don’t think they mean anything.”

[Valmark]

"I guess" he shrugged "Even if it was something important, they are probably dead by now. I get why you enjoy it though" inside, he was resolving to ask Malyanna about it. Although maybe he was reading too much into it.
"Should we proceed?" he asked while checking out the rest of the room.

[Xihirli]

Checking the rest of the room revealed a poem that seemed to be the one being referenced by the door poem.

Beware, Underlanders, time hangs by a thread.
The hunters are hunted, white water runs red.
The gnawers will strike to extinguish the rest.
The hope of the hopeless resides in a quest.

An Overland warrior, a son of the sun,
May bring us back light, he may bring us back none.
But gather your neighbors and follow his call
Or rats will most surely devour us all.

Two over, two under, of royal descent,
Two flyers, two crawlers, two spinners assent.
One gnawer beside and one lost up ahead.
And eight will be left when we count up the dead.

The last who will die must decide where he stands.
The fate of the eight is contained in his hands.
So bid him take care, bid him look where he leaps,
As life may be death and death life again reaps.

“Ready when you are.”

[Valmark]

ºThis doesn't look nothing at all... Is it referencing the Underdark?º Sirthis nodded at Mab, opening the door to let them through.
Once outside, he offered her his arm, still thinking about those words.
"Which elf kin was he?"

[Xihirli]

“Drow. Fled from some Lolth cultists trying to sacrifice him, I believe.”
Mab led Sirthis into a gallery, and stopped at a marble sculpture of herself on Helryx, lifting her staff with an angry glare.
“This was a gift from Neifion. I’m thinking of removing it, considering.”

[Valmark]

"Drow, uh" Sirthis murmured, following.
"I mean, you don't really have to. It's not like the statue did anything, and it is beautiful. Unless it pisses you off too much, in which case by all means do"

[Xihirli]

Mab nodded, then moved on. "I do have a miniature version of the courtroom itself," she considered, stopping at a scale model of a chamber with frozen trees as columns, with a great many booths like theater boxes each with their own decor. At the front was Mab on her throne, with Helryx behind her and two flies to her side. In one of the left booths, a model of Neifion, small enough to fit in one's palm, was surrounded by bats. She picked it up, and made to dash it on the floor before thinking better of it, passing it to Sirthis. "Or would you like to?"

[Valmark]

Sirthis looked at the model, then looked at Alown.
"I don't think I should" he told Mab, nodding towards his little bat and folding the cape to make sure Alown couldn't see the miniature.

[Xihirli]

Mab shrugged and dropped the miniature, which shattered on the layer of ice underneath them. "Over here is one that I just find funny. It's a white dragon made out of ruby and turned white with simple paint. It was a gift from Hyrsam, I think it was originally a sculpture of Teneplet that he stole. One of my favorite pieces, easily."
There was an entire wall of statues of Helryx, some of which showed Mab taming the bestial white dragon, some of which were simply the dragon roaring or freezing somebody. Most of them were composed of marble or mother-of-pearl, white materials that required little paint to get the right tint. But at the end there was indeed a white dragon with some of the paint chipping to reveal the ruby underneath. Gemstones composing smoke rose from its nostrils, but it had been painted blue to denote coldness. On it was a plaque reading:
Happy Birthday
-Your Fool

[Valmark]

Sirthis laughed.
"That's surely him. I can see the appeal indeed" he nodded in appreciation "Besides, it shows he actually put effort in it. Even if it's just painting. He's coming too in a month right?"

[Xihirli]

“Most likely. Attendance at the Winter Court is not mandatory, but I’ve never known an Archfey who missed a session after the death of another.”
Mab chuckled again at the dragon.
“He has no idea when my birthday is. Though... you had other questions, yes? Less personal to me?”

[Valmark]

"I think I already asked everything for now?" Sirthis replied thinking "I mean, everything that I wanted an immediate answer to. The whole Cania business was... Oh, did Vashti say anything useful? For example regarding the Rotted Tower? Or maybe regarding something called the Heart of Vecna?" he asked "I also need to remember to give you my list of people to invite"

[Xihirli]

Mab shook her head. "There was mention of that offer, but frankly I'm uninterested. You're free to ask her if you like. And indeed you do, though we'll have time enough for that after court is in session." Mab led Sirthis past a wall of paintings of feywild landscapes. "Would you like to have a look at our armory? We could have something commissioned for you."

[Valmark]

"I see. I was planning on checking out the Rotted Tower with Malyanna and Hatok and some more information would have been useful. That said... Armory!" he nodded his approval "It'll be interesting to see what weapons feys use- and I don't mean the clubs... Fomorians... Use..." he slowed, thinking back at the fortress.
"...besides...I lack an armor since mine was dissolved by a ooze"

[Xihirli]

"Well, let's see if we can't fix that, then."
The Armory was a greenhouse, with thick trees under heating lamps growing under the direction of a dryad, who was stretching out her hands to one of the thick, powerful trees and pulling on an invisible rope, shaping an expanding branch like clay, slowly forming it into a breastplate.
"Armorer Diandra, allow me to introduce my fiancé, Sirthis Elvannin," Mab introduced.
The dryad bowed deeply before Mab. "Apologies, Your Majesty, I was lost in my work. Honored to meet you, my lord."

[Valmark]

"This place... Reminds me of home" Sirthis mentioned, walking inside the room "This is actually the first time I step into anything resembling a forest since I came into the feywild" he touched a tree, slightly nostalgic. It took a bit before he realized people had actually talked to him.
"I'm sorry, I was lost in thought" he hastily said "Nice to meet you Diandra. This place... I assume you're growing them? This is a beautiful job"

[Xihirli]

"Thank you, your grace. But my mother planted most of these. I, however, can coax the trees into growing into shapes of my guidance, which is especially helpful since these trees are ironwood."

Spoiler: Druid Knowledge

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It's wood as hard as iron. Druids and certain Paladins love having this armor because it's not metal, but it can be made into armor just as good.

[Valmark]

"Ironwood? I definitely need something then" he nodded "Something like a breastplate or anyway something that doesn't make too much noise if I need silence"

[Xihirli]

Diandra nodded and swept her hand aside, and two of the ironwood trees twisted as they separated, revealing a deeper portion of the greenhouse guarded by the two trees. "My completed works are at your disposal. Is there anything else you require, my Queen? Milord?"
"Do you need help donning armor?" Mab clarified for Sirthis.

[Valmark]

"Oh, no" he shook his head "For some reason, they teach you how to put armor on even if you aren't supposed to wear it- guess because ironwood exists?" he shrugged walking towards the newly opened section.
"Is it a problem if I find one to wear immediately and keep on? I've already been teleported away once after all"

[Xihirli]

Mab nodded. "You can't wear armor all the time, but please do protect yourself as much as possible."
There were racks of ironwood suits of armor - many of the weapons were just tiny versions of weapons Sirthis knew well, such as unstrung bows and staves, but in a size that pixies and boggles might wield.
However, there were also war-fans, parrying canes, and bolas. And there were no daggers, only seaxes. There was a mannequin set aside from the rest that looked to be a model of Queen Mab with her personal armor - a shield and full plate suit of black ironwood armor, with the helm formed to allow her horns to slot through. Carved upon the chest and shield was the head of a fly, with eyes dyed red by berries. In the Mannequin's other hand was a double-bladed scimitar, forged from iron chilling enough that even Sirthis, who had been growing used to cold for quite a bit at that point, felt his teeth start to chatter.
Mab scarcely glanced at her suit of armor, rather checking the racks of the rest.
"Black and red are your colors?" she asked for clarification, indicating a black ironwood breastplate.
"We can get a symbol painted on in red. Any color you like."

[Valmark]

"You must look quite striking in this. Is there the hope to see you wear it without, well, needing it?" Sirthis asked, gesturing towards the stand with the Mab mannequin.
"How about a rose?" he asked Mab "Is there something else that already has it as a symbol? The lines could be red with the black of the armor making up the body of the drawing"