Ric'lail

Ric'lail watches passively as Andra makes her way out of the grounds.

Perhaps she'll find what she's looking for, now that we're back home.

Mention of raccoon kabob catches his attention. Or, a part of it, at least.

It wasn't that bad, was it? It looked like Oliver did a decent job with what he was working with. Ah, and everything's ready, by the way. The guest house has been prepared, and your parents are in the white cabana in the southeast garden. Your siblings are all away on business.

Ah. Thank you. Veln will be so disappointed, though.

What? Why would he...?

Oh, no reason. Don't mind me.

He responds to Vachel's query with with half a mind, gazing across the grounds to where he remembers the cabana to be.

"No raccoon here, Vachel. Though...if you really desire one, there are some on the grounds, I believe. One could be harvested, and elven cooking makes most meats remarkably tender, when meat is served at all."

He stands in his stirrups and flips his hood back to get a better look as he peers into the distance, his face creasing in mild concern.

Where...?

Ah, yes. They moved the cabana when the stream changed course a few years ago. Further to the left, I think, from where you are?

He smiles in relief and turns to the paladin.

"Excepting a special request from yourself, though, the main course will probably be something from the forests outside the city. Venison, or a wild hog. Bread and fresh butter. Whatever is in season from the orchards, in a salad if there are greens available. A light summer wine, and perhaps some fruit preserves or pies for dessert."

The elf lifts a hand, gesturing to the tip of the small structure visible in the distance.

"My parents are here in the gardens. Come, and I will introduce you."

A brief ride across the grounds brings them to the cabana. Ric'lail dismounts and approaches, kneeling at the foot of the white steps and speaking quietly in elven.

Elven (Ric'lail)-
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"Mother. Father. I have returned. I offer all my greetings and respect, and request sanctuary for my comrades and myself. Your good health honors the family, as ever."


Both of the two elves in the cabana rise. They are tall for their species, making it clear where Ric'lail has gotten his relatively impressive stature. The family eyes stand out immediately, and it is also clear that their shoulder-length hair was once the same shade of brilliant silver as Ric'lail's. Their features are composed, but their eyes sparkle with emotion. His father steps forward and takes Ric'lail's hand, helping him to his feet.

Elven (father)-
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"You are welcome here, as ever, my son. Your life brings honor to our family. I wish only that the rest of your siblings were here to share in the joy of your safe returns."


The aged elf turns to face the rest of the group, inclining his head in a gesture of respect before speaking. His words are addressed to his son, but it seems clear he expected the visitors to respond.

"But who are your guests? I would know of their names and deeds. That you have brought them here surely means that you know them as friends, and they are as welcome as you in our house."