The True and Impossible Adventures of Tenebrux Morrow, Vol. 2
[An excerpt from The True and Impossible Adventures of Tenebrux Morrow a pulp serial following the 'real-life' exploits of an interplanar ship's captain. The real Captain Morrow is known never to have left her native Waterdeep and emerges from her rooms at the Yawning Portal only to exchange scrawled manuscripts for fresh meals and ink.] And thus in the light of the Feywild's ne'er-setting sun, we passed into the land of the eladrin. My astute resolution to sail around their forests was betrayed - it seems to me that the river itself conspired to change course, bringing the New Bride into the shadow of the trees that I might see those dancing figures up close. The form of the eladrin - with which I am now intimately familiar - is that of elves as seen in a fever dream. Slender as wands and with hair of every changeable hue, their moods mirror that fey wilderness from which they spring - one moment gentle as a still pond, the next inexorable and deadly as a falling mountain. The latter I experienced only after spending many agreeable hours (or perhaps seasons) among them. A halfling woman, employed among my crew as a smith, dared to raise her voice in song above that of our hosts. The depth of the insult became clear as the forest fell into silence, and it was only quick thinking on my part that delivered a compromise. When we left it was without our smith, and the only sound was the solitary ring of her hammer as she endeavoured to forge a blade that would sing for the eladrin more sweetly than she. It has been some centuries since - I hope she has succeeded by now.