*
Gulamendis approached the northern end of the valley containing his new home, E’bar: Home. He knew the sight of a winged demon speeding towards the city walls would earn him a harsh welcome, so he directed the creature to land in a small clearing some distance from an outpost to keep from being filled with arrows or, worse, incinerated by a magic blast of flame.
He dismissed his winged horror, which despite its appearance - mostly drooling jaws and massive claws under gigantic raven’s pinions - was a reliable, if bony, steed. The Demon Master looked around to see if anyone noticed his approach, and decided if they did they were slow in coming to investigate. Given the level of alertness that became a way of life for the taredhel, that was unlikely. Coming in low over the treetops for the last few miles had proved a wise choice.
He worked his way down the hillside until he approached the first outpost on the trail, and he halted within sight of the walls. He waved his hand back and forth and waited to be hailed by the sentry. When a question was called out in his native tongue, he replied and was urged to walk slowly forward.
He paused at the gate while they opened it, and when he stepped inside he was impressed. While the city below was growing at prodigious speed, by magical means, here in this former moredhel village, only the sinew and sweat of those detailed to it had been resurrecting the place. Yet it looked as if the work was almost done. Walls had been repaired, roofs re-thatched, streets cleared of brush, and a new well had been sunk in the village square.
A guardsman in the uniform of the Starblood Host said, ‘Your name?’
‘Gulamendis, on the Regent Lord’s business,’ he answered.
‘Proceed, but halt at the last hut and see Lacomis.’
He moved through a very busy village and noticed that even the children were helping with the final clean up and repair. Taking note, he judged fifty warriors and their families were now ensconced here and would soon be getting on with the business of hunting, fishing and farming. Should the Demon Legion not arrive, which he judged unlikely, or should they be defeated - again unlikely - this quiet little village might not be a bad place to settle.
He reached the last hut and knocked on the side of the door. A voice said, ‘A minute,’ then an elderly elf stuck his head out. ‘Who are you?’
‘Gulamendis. On the Regent Lord’s business. The guard told me to announce myself to you.’
The elf stepped out of the hut and from his robes, the Demon Master could see he was a magic user. Gulamendis had little to do with members of the Starblood clan over the years so didn’t recognize him. ‘Stand over there,’ said the old elf.
Gulamendis moved to the indicated spot and the old elf closed his eyes; he waved his hand and the Demon Master felt a mild magic gathering in the air around them. After a moment, the old elf opened his eyes and said, ‘Yes, you’re who you say.’
‘Worried about infiltrators?’ asked Gulamendis.
‘Worried about everything,’ said the old magic user. He smiled. ‘So far we’ve only encountered squirrels, mice, and a few foxes, but until we completely secure this valley, we have orders to be wary.’
‘Understood,’ said the Demon Master. ‘I must go.’
‘Walk with the Stars,’ said the old man, returning to his hut.
Moving down the hillside from the village, Gulamendis was impressed by the work that had been done in his absence. The road a mile south of the village was now being paved with stone. A pair of young geomancers directed labourers who dumped baskets of stone into piles across the road. The magicians would then use their craft to reform the loose pebbles and rocks into flat pavements that provided easy travel for wagon and mounted rider.
Gulamendis nodded in greeting as he passed the work crew. Another mile on and he encountered a lone galasmancer, a master of plants, who was digging a small hole beside the road, using a simple wooden stick. He placed a seed in it and closed his eyes. Waving his hand, he called forth a small plant that rose up before Gulamendis’s eyes. It was a glow tree, native to the world of Selborna. Midkemia might be Home, but the taredhel were returning with the best they had found on other worlds. The tree would grow to a height of ten or twelve feet above the roadway and illuminate it in a soft, bluish glow, making night travel safe and easy. Gulamendis realized that such discoveries had robbed his people of the legendary woodcraft they had once possessed. He had no doubt those elves he had encountered in Elvandar had no need of light to move effortlessly though the woods at night.