Here in the gardens of Havre d’Anges the rest of the world and its troubles seemed terribly far removed. This was a tranquil spot, guarded more by the divine power of God than any means employed by the elves themselves. While technically a part of Fanolania it wasn’t subject to the normal rules of earthly governance. It is a sacred, holy place. It is a safe place. And this is where King Carlobar Martel, the high elven King of Fanolania, strolled among the gardens as he awaited the meeting with his guests.
King Pendragon of Evelliene, the grey elven ruler of the so-called “Elven Isles” north of Fanolania across the straits, was the first to join King Carlobar on his meandering walk in the gardens. The two men rarely had occasion to agree on anything, and this was their first face-to-face meeting since Carlobar ascended the throne. As a prince he had often journeyed to the court of the Evelliene king, and each time he had found Pendragon to be frustrating to the point of infuriating. This particular occasion wasn’t significantly different except that Pendragon had come to realize that Carlobar might be correct in his dire assertions that trouble was brewing of a magnitude greater than either monarch had ever been faced with. This had softened Pendragon’s attitude noticeably, and in the last few days the two elves had managed to find more common ground than they had ever enjoyed.
The third member of this gathering wasn’t a king, but he was the next best thing. Admiral Athtar Cerrulian was the commander of the High Elven Imperial Fleet for this portion of wildspace and he had been dispatched by his superiors to address the concerns of the two world-bound elven monarchs. The Imperial Fleet had been apprised of the issues from another of their allies in Domum, and this had led them to the same conclusions that Carlobar had reached. Admiral Cerrulian had another motive for wanting to assist King Carlobar and King Pendragon, too. As the man in charge of making sure the elven vessels headed to Arborea made the journey safely from Domum into wildspace, it was vital that those trips were allowed to proceed unimpeded. The activities of evil entities in Partum were disrupting those final trips. If they were to resume in proper fashion then those evil influences would have to be dealt with.
The three elves spoke in hushed, reverent tones as they debated what would be the best course forward. The stakes of the game had been raised higher than any of them had ever been accustomed to and their finding a common strategy was going to be crucial if they were to succeed. They didn’t have the luxury of spending two centuries looking for an answer, either. This was being done on the sped-up timetables more suited to humans than it was elves and to say they were uncomfortable with this was a massive understatement. Yet this was what the elves had to work with. Somehow the two elven kingdoms and the elven spelljamming fleets would have to coordinate if they were going to unravel the damage being woven by the Fourth Imperium and its insidious leaders. Secrecy and force would have to go hand-in-hand in this endeavor. And that meant setting aside their previous annoyances and grievances. This wasn’t something elves were good at.