Evermeet: Island of Elves by Elaine Cunningham

Author:Elaine Cunningham [Cunningham, Elaine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Fantasy, Forgotten Realms
ISBN: 9780786962006
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2012-08-07T07:00:00+00:00

13

Tides of Fury

n icy wind whipped the island, coating the Beast Lord’s black fur with salt-scented icicles. Malar hunched his massive shoulders in a futile attempt to ward off the chill, listening with uncharacteristic patience as the goddess Umberlee wailed and shrieked out her frustration. The sea goddess smashed at the waves with her fists again and again, sending sprays of water leaping up over the rocky coast with each blow.

Umberlee’s minions, the fearful creatures of the Coral Kingdom who were supposed to bring the sea-faring elves to heel, had been, if not bested, at least contained. Magic had returned to the Sea elves of Evermeet. And this, through the intervention of an elven god! Long and bitter had been Umberlee’s jealousy of Deep Sashales, and terrible was her fury against this perceived insult.

“There are other creatures in the sea that you can command, are there not?” inquired Malar when at last his rumbling voice could be heard over the roar and crash of the waves.

Umberlee stopped in mid-wail. She subsided, sinking down into the crest of the wave she rode as she pondered this suggestion. Her countenance softened a little as she considered the possibilities. “There are many,” she agreed. “There are terrible creatures in the depths which will surely come to my bidding. I will send them at once!”

“And storms,” Malar added as he broke off a daggerlike icicle that hung from his furred chin, and that gave proof of the icy potency of the goddess’s fury. “You cannot overwhelm the island itself, but surely you can disrupt sea traffic. Many elves will flee the troubles on the mainland to sail for Evermeet.” His red eyes glowed with intense, evil light. “I see no reason why they should reach the island.”

“Nor do I,” agreed the sea goddess delightedly. She surged forward suddenly and flung her arms around the bestial god, drenching him with frigid sea water. Then she was gone, leaving behind a sea that was as calm as a wood nymph’s pool.

Malar let out a grating, whuffling chuckle. The sea goddess’s chilly embrace was a minor discomfort, a minor indignity. In his estimation, things were going well.

The centuries-long devastation of the Crown Wars had been deeply satisfying to the Great Hunter. He was not entirely disappointed by the defeat of the dark elves—or drow, as they were now called. Despite his ties with the goddess Lloth, Malar was not fond of any elves, fair or dark. He was willing enough to enjoy the drow’s warfare against Corellon’s faithful children, but the deaths of dark raiders pleased him equally as well as the slaughter of peaceful forest elves. In fact, he thought it a delightful turn of events that brought the elves to be pitted against each other in this manner. Not only did such inner strife serve his purpose, but it was also most entertaining to observe.

The elves on Faerûn had been dealt a series of devastating blows. His followers—ores and goblins, for the most part—would continue to harry the settlements that were scattered through the forests.

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