Bab 6: Chapter Six
"Fair enough interestingly, I surmise," said Mey, "essentially the danger's been managed."
"So what do we do now, my master? Without a doubt we can't let this go inconspicuous."
"We will go the ruler and report what we saw," said Master Nixior, "and Ruler Meneldir needs to represent his vanishing when he was completely prohibited from doing as such."
"What..." Mey took a gander at him in dismay, as though his situation had been busted.
"No inquiries, my sovereign. Your dad provided a request. You disregarded your dad, our ruler's regulation you should represent it, and record for it you will."
Crossing the charmed lines, they observed
the trees lighter and taller than previously, the
way extending into the type of an interstate,
the timberland covering withdrawing to let daylight
wash the voyagers with blinding light. It was
a much needed development from the dull timberlands,
as anybody would be in the wake of expenditure seven days
going through an organization of caverns and
woods.
"At last, some civilisation," Vilyánur celebrated, "I
can hardly hold on to see civilisation indeed."
"Civilisation? No, you won't view that as here,
my Ruler Lindrúin," Mey chuckled. "We are
everything except acculturated."
They generally laughed at his remark, even the
wood-mythical beings. "You are fortunate the dark mythical people constructed
the Silver City ere surrendering to the plague,"
Mey proceeded. "Any other way we'd never have a
capital this wonderful."
"Disregard a capital, what you want the most is
streets," said Vil, "and I realize we cut seven days'
worth of time utilizing the organization of caverns, yet
most pariahs won't be utilized to them."
"They need not travel so far inland," said
Nixior, "you are companions of Meneldir, and
respected legends of legend, which is the reason we
are respecting you all things considered. Had you been
any other person, you'd have been lying dead in the
edges of Angdor at this point."
Vilyánur snickered, "regardless of whether I were a typical centurion, your wolf-riders couldn't ever have
thought for even a second to confront us." He scowled at the wolf-riders,
meeting unfortunate eyes from them. "Weighty
covering and kite safeguards are not something
small bolts or shoddy lances can
enter, and our spears can poke a hole
through your wicker safeguards."
The less heavily clad troopers in the vanguard
taken a gander at them with a sight of dread and
regard; they realized he was not feigning. Simply a
week prior they saw a knight's spear go
through a dim wolf's pelt, a pelt which their
lances neglected to scratch.
"In any case, we're there," said Mey, Vil gazed upward
to check out at the doors of Silverhearth.
Not at all like most high-mythical being urban areas Vil had seen,
Silverhearth was five urban communities joined by a
organization of streets and encircled by a layer
of grand walls, with farmlands between each
sub-city - an inventive plan, certainly.
Every one of the three entryways was a winding way
up onto the level whereupon Silverhearth
stood.
The castle remained upon an island on the stream
Angkreb, isolated from different pieces of
the city by a deluge of cold water, associated by
an extension that traversed over the stream.
"Intriguing plan," remarked Vil, "taking
the city forcibly will be troublesome."
"Troublesome? More like unthinkable," said Mey,
"Old plans don't bomb simple."
"As out of line with no guarantees, the people of yore just had a ton of
time to burn to work on their plans.
We work hypothetically, they did essentially," Vil
griped.
Following the interstate, the host entered
the illustrious area, getting off their ponies
at the pens to head into the royal residence corridors
by walking. The long, twisty way to the lord's
chambers went through the Lobby of Distinction: a
peaceful lobby holding accounts of a significant number of the
wood-elven legends.
The majority of them were genuinely everyday (if that
word can be appropriate to legends) pictures
tracked down in each honorable dwelling, save for one:
one of the representations showed the model of
a legend clad in silver fighting against what
appeared to be a shadowy beast - a
animal of fire and shadow, a daemon of
some sort.
However at first Vilyánur mixed up the
silver-reinforced knight to be a wood-elven
legend, he before long saw the sword in his grasp
which appeared to be a high-elven cutting edge. A bolt
of lightning moved about his sharp edge as he held
it overhead. He committed no error, it was him.
"What a lovely corridor," he remarked.
"You know," said Meneldir, "this lobby contains a
thousand pictures, and my generally #1 of
them-"
"Be quiet, prince..." Nixior woofed, "it is ill suited
for you to meander aimlessly about your inclinations, I question
Sovereign Lindrúin will be keen on your
words. You ought to figure out how to control yourself."
"No, it's OK," said Vil, "which one's your
number one?"
"Don't worry about it," said Mey, bringing down his head.
"I really want to control myself around him," he
thought.
"You can let me know anything you desire," said Vil
as far as he might be concerned, "I'm neither outraged nor disturbed,
what's more, you're a close buddy of mine."
"My ruler," Nixior called, "I know your understanding
is boundless and desire of experience ceaseless,
in any case, don't prompt our ruler, for he really wants to
figure out how to act."
"As though any of you don't," - Vil thought, cautious
not to stand up clearly.
"Also, for his activities Ruler Meneldir will be
censured, that I'll guarantee."
"No! You can't do that," Mey took a gander at him in
alarm, "I didn't do anything. I . . . I was
simply attempting to accomplish something useful to the domain: safeguarding
the domain from daemons isn't a wrongdoing, right?"
"Try not to figure you can trick me," said Nixior,
"my steerage has charms that dissipate your
powers."
"Ok, charms... so 'tis not a characteristic nature of yours," Vil pondered internally,
getting a handle on a bug he had mind-controlled, "thank
you for uncovering your own privileged insights, you'll be
the reason for your own destruction."
The bug jumped from Vil's hand and onto
Nixior's shoulder, ascending his hair and
into his rudder. "Ugh," Nixior eliminated his rudder
in disturbance, "these bugs appear to be getting
wherever nowadays."
"Indeed, valid," expressed Vil with the flood of a hand,
"very much like daemons... that should be pursued
down and killed. Also, obviously, Mey did
nothing out of sorts."
"Indeed, precisely," he said and wore his steerage
on.
Mey took a gander at Vil in wonder, "much obliged," he
expressed clairvoyantly with a grin. Vil grinned
back.
A lord's lobby was a cairn of silver enhanced with
gold and diamonds, a tall lofty position remained toward the end
of the hall washed by daylight. The corridors
were grandiose, large enough for a senior thunderbird
to fold his wings in and not hit the stopping points.
From one of the steps prompting the other
rooms slipped a man Vilyánur had
seen yet once previously: the old ruler had
greenish-golden eyes and reddish-brown hair, much
like his child. He was about the level of
Vilvánur garbed in silver robes which astonished Vilyánur, garbed in silver robes which amazed
as brilliant as the full moon.
On his head was a wooden prickly crown with
horns ascending high, his shroud was adorned
with long pieces of plumes, his gloves
decorated with tiger hooks.
Observe! Lord ARVEDUI!
A silver trumpet sounded a good ways off, and
the wood-mythical person bowed before him, yet Vil and his
entourage knew not to bow, for this training
was strange to them. Back in the Realm of
Alinor, rulers and commanders were tended to by
a step of the right foot and a strong salute,
be that as it may, this wasn't fitting for an unfamiliar ruler
presently, right? Vil just remained there, gracelessly
gazing.
"Ruler Lindrúin," said the lord finally, "a
joy of mine to meet you it is."
"The joy is mine, Lord Arvedui," said
Vilyánur with a bow, "you are apparently as I
keep in mind, despite the fact that that was 200
quite a while back."
"I recollect you as well, ex-prince..." the lord
proceeded, "I recollect your dad... can't
let's assume I'm attached to him, yet a respectable man
he was, me not recognizing that is destined to be
absurd."
Vil grinned, "I've caught wind of your endeavors as well,
you are a capable pioneer as well."
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone