Dragonstone 11

**Chapter 11**

So Arin and her gang are meeting with Tarol, the *“warden”* of this area. Tarol's first act is to suggest that the greasy, shiftless, untrustworthy Rivermen will rob the place given half a chance. This does nothing to endear him to me.

We waste nearly an entire page on the Riverman ferrying themselves back to Olorin Isle, and then the elves make camp and sit around. Tarol mentions that *“we protect the Eld Trees. They are precious and we would not have any come unbidden to steal the wood away – such as at times the Rivermen try to do.”*

Shut up, you smug ass. Tarol reminds me of people who, having been born into wealth, have no concept of what it's like to be poor, and so assume that anyone with financial problems is simply lazy. If only it was that simple. This constant bashing of the Rivermen – who we have not seen do one single, solitary unethical thing – comes across as smarmy classism. \~/

And who does it hurt if some poor people get their hands on a little fallen deadwood? It's not like they're going to be able to chop down one of these magic redwoods and carry it away to their island.

We randomly learn that Vanidar used to be King of the High Elves, but he apparently . . . got bored and quit, which I did not know was a thing kings could do.

Tarol chats with some of the Generic Elves, sharing (and spreading) rumors about the evil, greedy, poor Rivermen. He implies – using phrases like *“It seems”* and *“so the merchants say”* rather than anything solid – that the Upstream Rivermen are somehow wrecking boats to allow the Olorin Island Rivermen to collect the salvage. We're told the Upstream Rivermen have a fort, and have started charging protection fees to passing boats, which of course *obviously* proves criminal intent.

And if they'd decided to go rogue, wouldn't it make more sense to *capture* the boats and steal the cargo, rather than wrecking everything and picking through the scraps?

Anyway, one of the Generic Elves draws his sword and declares that he'd like to catch the Rivermen at it, because nothing's more gratifying than seeing one of the privileged elite get to punish the poor and desperate.

Morning comes, and we get to see some Silverlarks. Rather than being a small-town baseball team, these are actual larks that come from the High Plane, Adonar, the same place as the elves and the Eld Trees. They possess the ability to fly between planes at dawn and dusk, though why is never made clear. They're birds, not divine messengers. What do they need that they can't acquire on their home plane? What purposes does such an ability serve? It seems to exist just to sorta . . . be cool. Like McKiernan came up with the idea of magical birds that fly from heaven to earth and back again, and thought “Yeah, I'll put that in!”

The elves ride on. We learn that the leaves of the Eld Trees *“turned dusky green* *and* gathered *the gloaming.”*

Why do they do that? No reason. No, seriously, a page or two later the elves discuss this very fact, and their conclusion is “I dunno.”

Arin asks how tall the trees are, and Validar replies: *“I would judge that if we could step up their sides one hundred or so Lian strides would pace the full length of each; yet the first ones we planted nigh Wood's-heart stand at least a hundred and eighty paces tall”* Which is a wordy and convoluted way of saying “About a hundred paces; the ones near Wood's-heart are taller.”

Three pages of travel. \~/ Arin has a bad dream. It's gripping stuff.

They reach Wood's-heart and we learn that Rael is marrying Talarin, who I assume will be the Celeborn-knockoff to her Galadriel-knockoff. The Generic Elves are greeted and welcomed, and something rather odd happens with Rael:

“ '*Dara Arin? The flame seer?' At Arin's nod, the Lian said, 'Long have I wanted to meet thee. I am Rael.' ”*

“ '*And I thee, crystal seer,' responded Arin.”*

I call this odd because these people are thousands of years old. If they wanted to meet each other . . . why didn't they? What stopped them? Their cultures enjoy friendly relations; heck, Arin is gadding about with *the former king of the High Elves!* What kept the only two seers in the entire race of elves from comparing notes before now?

Aldor, the High Elf King, asks if Arin & Co. have come on an urgent mission, but Arin says *“I deem it can wait till the morrow.”* Yeah, just wanted to inform you of this world-shattering apocalypse, thousands dead, dragons, plague, all that jazz. But first, munchies!

Drinks: 2

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