Stardeep_ The Dungeons - Bruce R. Cordell [52]
Elaborately carved and adorned platforms hung in the four largest trees-amazing structures of living wood that served as floors, walls, and lofty ceilings. Leafy doors studded these tree homes, and everblooming flowers grew around all. Warm lamplight flickered from the many open-ait windows.
Though the air was wintry and Raidon's breath steamed, the layer of snow covering the ground in eastern Aglarond was absent.
Necalama pointed at the top of the tallest of the four conifers, at the largest and most impressive structure. "The Royal Hall," he said. "Princess Blindelsyn Oldssyne resides there. The only thing higher near here is an aerie of song dragons allied with the city."
"Can we go up there?" exclaimed the sorcerer.
Their guide looked doubtful. He said, "Outsiders are rarely permitted in the boughs. But ttavelers are welcome in the merchants' square, which includes a pair of inns."
The elf gestured toward dozens of quaint wooden structures built around a massively wide square on the ground bracketed by the four towering trees. Dozens of figures, mostly elves and half-elves, milled through the area. Raidon recognized some humans, a few halflings, and even a dwarf. The scents of grilled food and the tinkle of music washed across them.
The mouth-watering aromas enticed the monk, but…
"I have questions," Raidon said, turning to face theii half-elf guide, "about my mother. Where can I ask-who should I ask?" When Raidon had shown Necalama his mother's forget-me-not during their trip, the elf failed to recognize it, though he said someone in Relkath's Foot was sure to know the meaning of the smoothly regular tree symbol.
"Inns are good places for questions and, as I said, we have two," replied Necalama. "The Green Man"-the elf pointed to an ordinary wooden house on the north side of the square-"and the Taproot"-he pointed at a lower building that sprawled back into the undergrowth-"are both fine places. Outsiders are more common at the Taproot, which boasts a first-class alehouse and private rooms. The Green Man has only a single common room in which visitors can bed down. The locals prefer it."
Adrik enthused, "Alehouse! I say-"
"Best we try the Green Man, then," said Raidon. "The locals are mote likely to be able to help me."
The sorcerer frowned and nodded.
Necalama said, "You'll find that its spirits are just as fine as the Taproot, Adrik. In fact, if you don't mind my suggestion, ask for a glass of rootweal wine-you'll never find better."
"I will!"
They bid their guide good-bye. At the last, Raidon convinced the half-elf to take a couple gold coins fot his aid. Then they made directly for the Green Man. The savory smells intensified with every step.
Perhaps a little food before questions wouldn't hurt.
The Green Man's common room shimmered with tiny gleaming lanterns that hung as if sttung from a garland along the rafters and walls, then twined down the living wooden supports. The light picked out long-legged figures attited in golds, greens, and browns. Most held long-stemmed goblets in one or both hands, others held instruments, and at least a few grasped graven pipes from which fragrant smoke emerged.
A forest beast turned on a spit in the fire; it was the source of the mouth-watering odor. A woman, a half-elf no doubt, stood in the center of the common room, surrounded on three sides by a sturdy bar of living wood. Dozens of long-stemmed goblets hung bowl-down above her. She smiled a welcome at Raidon when he entered. Adrik received a puzzled nod. "Is he with you?" she called to Raidon.
The monk blinked, nodded. Again he was sttuck