"To Candlekeep it is then" Gorm agrees.  

Logan:

"Ah, yes.  There was the matter of fast transport--and I suppose we should wait to get our improved weapons back," says Logan, realizing it would probably be bad form to rush off right after dinner.  Maybe they should spend the night first before they go...

"Thandril, I assume you are staying here at home--or do you plan to continue on with us?" asks Logan carefully--he would be happy of the noble elf's company, but is wary about risking an interspecies political incident if the prince comes to harm during their adventures.

The prince answer has to wait as they walk through a curve in the way and the forest finally clears at their sides. They find themselves almost atop of a hill, in a natural terrace with another stream crossing it and creating a large fall just a few steps ahead. The elves had built a baranda along the terrace, that gives them some feel of safety to approach the edge and contemplate the sight. 

In front of them, in another great hill the city of the elves could be contemplated. The hill was covered by the great trees with silver bark that they had found and the buildings, instead of built, seems to have grown naturally either from the trees or from the white rocks of the mountains, as if the elements and time, instead of create rugged and sharp formations, had decided to create beautiful towers, impossible archways, elegant houses and on top of the hill, a great castle or palace.  It was hard to determine where the natural formation ended and the constructions began for the trees of the woods and the gardens were so numerous that the city itself had merged with it perfectly.
But above all buildings and towers a gargantuan tree raised above it all and if it weren't for the height of the trees that surrounded them until now, it had been impossible to miss it. Its branches stretched around the city, almost covering it all.
Hundreds of white lanterns gave the city a pale illumination, as if the starry night that was above them didn't end in the horizon and had descended upon the land itself. 

Gorm had never seen a city so big, not even in Suzail, and asked herself how many people could leave in that big city that occupied a hill so huge that could be a little mountain. 

Dr A. couldn't help himself to marvel at the obvious magic involved in the construction of such a marvel, and for the moment, all the concerns about the incoming Flight of Dragons were pushed to the back of his mind.

Logan couldn't believe his eyes either. His solider mind immediately thought of how defendable were such a place, in the rare event that an army could reach the walls of the city, and he started to recognize tall walls, or maybe the trees were so close that formed a wall, or maybe it was both. Either case taking that city would be really improbable even with a great army, if not impossible. 

After a few minutes of contemplating in awe the elven city, the elves approach the group and point them some landmarks that can be seen from there and answer their questions.

Then they start to walk towards it, descending their hill and entering the woods again, and even on their death bed they would swear that it was impossible to cross that distance in the, maybe, fifteen walk from the terrace to the city itself. At first they couldn't notice the difference between walking in the forest or the previous clear where they had dinner, and the city, but the songs of the elves were louder there. They could see more elves crossing their path, smiling and waving at them and the royal family, and they soon learned to recognize the streets and started to see entrances to homes or shops as they walked by. 

"Come with me " asked the queen to Dr. A. "We will go and see one of our most renowed archmages, and see if between the three of us can solve all your questions." 

"And you with me" asked the king to Gorm and Logan "Let's take care of your weapons then... "

Dr. A.

The Queen lead the turtle towards the top of the city and guide him across the beautiful palace that can only be the residence of his friend Thandril and his parents. They cross it, while talking about the implications and theorizing about the deformation of the Wave that such an event must had, and they eventually come to the base of the gargatuan tree that dominates the landscape and, once again, Dr. A. has the feeling that something is amiss for they had covered much more terrain that he had memory of, but they finally reach an area more open, with the immense branches of the tree high above their heads and to the shore of a lake that born there. As it happens the hill is nearly flat on its top and extends more than one could had seen from the terrace, maybe it was a meseta instead of a hill, in any case, they were at a lake's side, heading to a elegant construction built among the great roots of the tree and near the lake. It was a single home with two high towers, the right one ended in a twisted pinacle, but the other one was open to the sky. 

- Luinistar - called the Queen - We are here... -

Apparently from nowhere a calm, soft voice talked, inviting them in. 

- Of course, please come in - 

And before Dr. A. could blink they were atop the left tower, where he could see some strange telescopes and a couple of tables, one with a big old tome open with writings in elvish and another smaller, circular one, where there were three comfortable chairs. 
A tall elf, dressed with a blue tunic with stars sewn on it with silver threads, his long black hair loose at his back, was there with a welcoming smile.

- Welcome my Queen. I am glad to receive you and your guest. My name is Luinstar, Archmage of the High Council of Sages of the Stars... - he moved his hand resting importance to his words - And all that things that the wizards like to add to their names and titles as they grow old... Luinistar is good, a pleasure to meet you. I understand that you are a fellow colleague with some interesting theories... but please please, let us sit and enjoy some wine, or perhaps a hot tea? while we talk... - 

Dr A looks around in awe at the equipment and view. He bows to Lunistar and introduces himself before continuing “Ahbut a cup of tea would be most appreciated and yes talk we must as I’m keen to better understand the movement of a particularl body - star or comet - I’m not sure what but which has been referred to as their Dragon Star. From your observations you would be aware that it is at best somewhat erratic in its pattern and it would now seem to be on a trajectory which will bring it closer to Toril. You would be far more aware than I what this may mean for the future of life as we know it on Toril so the question is what do we do about it and how can we prevent what seems to be a disaster in the making!”

     "I suspect there is far more magic here than I could ever even conceive of," Gorm whispers to her companions.  "In even the most mundane of things even.  Just walking seems flavored by it... or perhaps it's just time and distances that are changed?"  There is awe and reverence in her voice... But also a bit of fear.  Imagine a people's who have so much magic they could waste it even on the most mundane and trivial of things?  It was awe inspiring, but also a bit galling that it was hoarded here rather than shared to make all things better....  But she dared not speak of such an idea here.  She felt even fully forming the thought might be dangerous.

     Gorm was a bit hesitant when the party was being separated, she thought to speak up and tell the good Doctor that they should stay together... But there was really no call for her concern.  None she could really put a finger on.  It just all seemed too fantastical.  Too good.  Almost like a dream...  The kind of dream that almost never stays as good as it starts, the kind of dream that turns into a nightmare.  But that was a silly notion.  A kid's fancy.  Gorm shook her head to clear the thought and merely gave Dr. A a nod and a solemn "See you soon," before he was lead off and she and Logan lead a different way.

Logan:

”Of course, your Majesty,” says Logan,  “Thank you for your generosity.”

Gorm and Logan:

While the Queen walks towards the great tree, the King and Thandril lead Logan and Gorm to another wing of the castle. They cross a great yard where they can see elves training in martial arts, both armed and unarmed, and they finally reach the forges. Surprisingly to them most of them are open to the sky as if they do not fear sparks of metal flying away or rain pouring into the heated metal and risking to make it brittle and ruin the forge. There are many forges, and workbenches, all elegant and beautifil, and Logan can't help but ask himself if they could really make weapons and armors with the hammers he sees, so elegant and delicate they seem. 

There there is someone waiting for them. a tall elf, with a white tunic with golden embroidery and long, golden hair. It's hard to determine its gender, for their cheekbones, eyes, nose and chin reminds more to those of a cat than a elf. Gorm thinks that they are more elvish than the elves, if that make sense. 

- Welcome - they say with a deep voice - My King tells me that you are in need of great weapons in order to fight back an evil that threatens us all. It would be my honor to help you... - 

The King slightly bows to them - It is you General, who honor us with your gracious help -  

The general acknowledges his words as Finwion introduces the team to the General 

- General, this are Logan Flameheart, from Cormyr, and this is Gorm Diabhal from the kingdom of the Endless Sands. Gorm, Logan, this is General Strinxxherax and his right hand, Siastralnaldedras, Commander of the Silver Wing - 

Behind the General appears an elven woman of striking beauty. Dressed in a black robes with silvery embroidery and with the long, black hair gathered in a simple ponytail by a silver chain. 

- It's a pleasure to meet you  both - she say and her voice is like a clear stream jumping down the mountain. Her deep, green eyes seem to capture them. 

- We will take care of your weapons now - says Finwion and an aidee brings them to Thandril who gives Logan's sword to his father. - Now, tell me Logan Flameheart, will you honor your family name and want to imbue your blade with the fiery breath of the dragons, or do you prefer another type of energy to be able to call upon. - 

Logan:

Overwhelmed by the scene before him, Logan manages, “Well-met, General Strinxxherax, Commander Siastralnaldedras.  Yes, honoring my family name with purifying fire would be a fitting choice.  You have seen to the heart of the matter with great alacrity.”

He smiles at Thandril in a wordless gesture of thanks and falls silent out of respect for the great leaders before him.

Dr. A:

- Hmm but it will not collide with Toril... we made sure of that... - 

That first phrase send a shiver down Dr. A's spine. And while he put up to speed of all their investigations and discoveries, Dr. A is certain that he is speaking to one that had active participated in the mighty spell that created the comet and ended the rule of the Dragon Overlords. 

- But the truth is... - he says after a long time of exposition of ideas and theories with clever notes from the Queen about the impact in the natural order - ... that the ripples in the Weave induce the dragonkin into a frenzy rage, specially those of devious intentions and violent nature and that I agree with you esteemed Dr. A. that the better explanation to that is that the energy we took of the Overlords is trying to reach back to the dragonkin, it is in its nature after all... I told to Gremlanthalassa once that... - and the look of the ancient wizard, even if there is no wrinkle in his pale, clear skin, get lost into the depths of his memory. It is not the first time in this conversation that this happens, and Laurenfindil had explained to Dr. A. that this happens to the elves of extremely advandced age, that sometimes they get lost into their own memories, so vast and deep they are. Fortunately Luinistar comes back from them quickly. 

- .. hmmm ahem.. anyway the good thing is that no dragon can claim that energy again... I do not want to think in the problems that could cause... believe me when I say that could be worse than the actual comet impacting Toril... that would be a real catastrophe... - 

Laurenfindil had become pale. Her look full of concern. 

- But... you said that the Cult of the Dragon were interested in all of this... and they... they only live to serve dragons forever, even turning their praised lords into undead monstrosities to increase their power and be able to keep serving them for all eternity,

.. -

Logan and Gorm:

" Ha!" exclaims the General, pleased "Excellent choice my good fighter. I told you " he says to his Commander who only smiles and bows, conceding the victory to the General in some kind of private game between them  "Let's begin My King " he says to Finwion. 

And matching words with action, both Finwion and Thandril take Logan's sword and head towards one of the forges. They start to work on it and they are marveled by the combination of skill and magic involved. They reheat the metal, and chant some words in a strange language unknown to both warriors. 
Small, stylized runes appear in the length of the blade, visible in glowing red. 
They motion to Logan, instructing him to stand in a very specific spot of the compound while Siastralnalderas moves Gorm a little bit back. 
Thandril and Finwion give the sword to Logan. 

" Hold it with your both arms, in front of you " instruct Finwion as Thandril helps him put it in the right angle, with the hilt slightly above his eyes. "No matter what, do not move or our efforts could be in vain. We will be here with you. Trust us " says the King and his friend smiles at him reassuring him. 
Both elves stand just behind Logan, their right and left arms extended and touching Logan's shoulders. 
They begin to chant again, closing their eyes. 
The sword is warmth in Logan's hands, and he can feel a pulsing energy flowing from the palm of the hands of the elves across his arms towards it. They had crimped a fire opal to the bottom of the hilt, that pulses with a fiery light when Logan feels the energy flowing trough him reach the blade. 

"Now it's my turn" claims the General with what Gorm could describe as joy, and he leaves Gorm and Siastralnalderas side and start walking towards them, directly to Logan's position. Or flowing would be more accurate to describe the movement of the elf. 
Their features start to change, to flow like melted metal as they increase in size, as they change their form. In the blink of an eye standing before Logan, instead of the tall elf general there is a huge dragon. Their golden scales reflect the light from the starry lamps and the moon as they raise on their back legs, expand their golden wings and breathes in. Logan even fell the pull of the wind and for a moment he hesitates and the primal, animal fear that the dragons command over all creatures tries to take control and make him look for safety. 
But it just a brief moment. He keeps control over his mind and body and trust his elven allies, who are in the same position, still chanting. 

The dragon exhales a fiery hell over the three figures. Gorm lost sight of them between the orange, red and white flames that engulf them for a moment. She is speechless and fears that the fire reach them too. But before she could end the thought that they have gone crazy, the fire begins to compress, to reduce its expansion as if it was sucked by a small hole. And, in a way, that was what was happening. 

The flames were being directed towards Logan's blade. The magical chant of the elves reached a crescendo and it could be heard even above the roaring dragon fire, as they funneled towards the sword. 
Logan, who has inevitably closed his eyes, opened them when he was aware that he wasn't feeling the deadly heat of the dragon breath on his body and contemplated how the fires were being absorbed by his weapon. He could feel the hot metal above him and the hilt began to hurt, the fire opal now seemed like a little sun. 
"Hold my friend" he heard Thandril voice in his head "Hold"
And he hold. Reaffirming his grip on his sword he stood tall and yelled as both the dragon and the elves finished their magic. 

The dragon fell to the ground, smoke pouring from their nostrils and mouth but he was smiling. Both elves reached out and, panting, took a step back, as Logan kept the sword high, the blade glowing white hot and the runes along its length glowing in blue hot. It became cooler and cooler, the fire opal lost its bright and the blade was still hot but slowly it regained its own color. 

"It is done " said Finwion with a smile.  "This is Sulënar, Breath of Fire in your tongue. May it serve you well " 

Logan:

Hands hurting but face beaming in a mixture of shock and awe, Logan waits until he is bid to move.  He then bows deeply to the elves and dragon, thanks evident in his eyes though he is too stunned to speak aloud at the moment.

Dr A who is old for a Tortle is in amazement that here was an Elf who had been alive for tens of thousands of years and what’s more had played a key role in freeing Toril from the tyranny of dragons in the long distant past. He looks at both the Queen and Lunistar and stays “so what we really need to do is focus on is how to stop the dragon worshippers from further empowering their lords and masters through granting them some sort of lich-like status? While that would be bad enough in itself, it  could possibly also mean that if worst comes to worst a greatly empowered dragon could find a way to access this pool off energy because as they say nature abhors a vacuum and if I understand you correctly the energy itself will seek to return somehow to Toril!” He then turns to the Queen and says “… do you have any contacts with the shadowier parts of society that I could reach out to gain some information on the dragon worshippers in order to as the say derail their efforts!”

Dr. A:

" I am afraid that we cannot stop the Cult to turn dragon into dracoliches... they had been doing that for many years, and despite our efforts they keep surviving and performing the ritual... what I do fear is that, somehow, they had found a way to attract or siphon that energy into one of these creatures, undead or alive.. do you.. " she turns to the archmage " do you think such a thing is possible?"

He ponders for a moment before answering "Highly improbable? yes but impossible?... if something I am sure of is that there is nothing impossible. " 

They felt silent for a moment pondering the weight and implications of their current discussion.

"Unless... " says Lunistar "Unless they, somehow, managed to get the copy of the Metal Scrolls that we didn't find in the Library after the Fall."

Dr. A. knows that he is referring to the Fall of Mith Drannor that happened centuries ago and the elves and their mighty city were overrun by demons. It hasn't been until a few decades ago that they have been reclaimed their ancestral home in Faerûn. Now that it come to his mind, it seems that this place and city has been here forever... not a few decades. 

"We gave them for lost..."

"We couldn't find them, nor locate them by any magical mean... but you know my old student that there are a few possibilities that had been lost... if the Cult, somehow, had access to them... they will know the ritual and could modify it. Which is horrifying in perspective." 

Logan and Gorm:

As Thandril pats Logan in the shoulder, the King turns towards Gorm. 

"Now it´'s your turn Daughter of the Wandering Winds. Swift and lethal in combat you are for what my son tells me. " he pauses "Let's help you being more lethal"

He takes the couple of scimitars that Thandril made and take them back to the forge. 

The process repeats as both elves work the forge and heat again the metal. The casts some spells and, once again, elegant runes can be seen on the edge of both weapons as they work, but the color now is blue. 

Logan notices that a gentle wind has arose, and it becomes a little bit intense every time they infuse more power to the blades and the runes glow a little bit brighter with it. 

The great gold dragon extends their wings and leaps into the air, gaining heigh in spirals. Finwion grabs both weapons and puts himself in the center of the flight of the dragon, motioning Gorm to stand at his side. 
She goes there, with Commander Siastralnalderas at her toes and the King gives her the blades. 
Thandril instructs her.
"Do not hold to them. When she tells you, jump and grab them." 

She doesn't quite understand but just nods, feeling the balance of the swords in her palms, she extend her arms over her head. 

Then the wind begins to accelerate as the gold dragon move faster and faster. Soon they are in the eye of a tornado as the elves recite their magical chant and the blades begin to spin in her palms and finally they are lifter by the winds.
Lightings cross the boundaries of the whirlwind and hit the blades, that glow brighter and brighter. When they are high above their heads, the Commander yells to Gorm.
"Now! Grab them and just flow with the wind!" along with her words she join her hands and offer a point for Gorm to leap toward the weapons.
Without really thinking of it she jumps to the Siastralnalderas's hands and jumps, but she also feels the push of the woman. And what a push. She is quite strong. 
But Gorm doesn't have time to ponder that as she approaches the spinning blades fast. She extends her hands and grabs them. Just in the moment when the elves reach a peaking point in their chanting and the dragon above her roars. A lighting hit the blades and she can feel the energy crossing her body. The speed of the spinnig blades is so huge that she start turning with them. She yells feeling the power filling her body. 

Logan has to avert his eyes when the lighting hits the blades and all of a sudden all stops. The chant, the lighting the dragon roar and the deafening cry of the wind. He looks up and sees Gorm falling, making a roll over herself to land safely, kneeled down, her both arms extended in an angle above her, like eagle wings, sparks of lighting crossing the blades and jumping over her arms. 

The gold dragon landed behind her. 

Finwion approaches.

"These are Vangwë. wich means Storm, and Surë, wich means wind. Together... " he instructs the nomad how to put them together by the bottom of their hilts and with a quick tiwst the become a singular, long weapon with two edges " They are Vangwëvëa, wich means Stormy Wind. You may need some practice before you leave, but our Commander here can teach you the basics." 

Gorm notice that a pair of blue topaz has been inserted in each of the pommels of the swords. And as it happened with Logan's sword, the runes begin to dissipate as the weapons cool off. 

"Now that you have better weapons" says the general Stryynxerax whi has regained his elven form " We'll make sure that you have proper armor to defend yourselves. But do not expect anything so fancy as your swords " he chuckles.

     Gorm is... speechless.  Literally.  It takes her a while to remember that she could say something nonetheless remember how to.  After her concerns and awe over just how much magic, how powerful of magic these people seem to wield to now have it crafter, molded and designed just for her...  It left her stunned.

     "I...  I haven't even earned my blades yet," she says humbly, head lowered.  "These are... Well these blades are beyond what even are leaders wield..."  

     She's not refusing the blades.  Oh no.  First her eyes and then eventually her hands hold them too greedily for there to be any thought of her turning down the blades.  Instead she feels a fire swelling inside her - a need to prove herself even more now that she has these blades with which to do so.

     "Thank you," she says finally.  It is not enough but it is heartfelt and truly meant and thus anything else would just diminish it.

Logan:

Congratulating Gorm on her newly updated weapons, Logan thanks the king again and says, “Oh yes, an updated set of armor with a matching shield would be amazing.  I of course have coin to reimburse your artisans for their craft.”

(Already spent the coin as agreed for the matching set of +1 gleaming plate and shield).

In response to the discussion on the metal scrolls Dr A says “Ahbut I’m guessing given their value the metal scrolls are inscribed on a precious metal such as gold or silver. I agree that you’re right we need to find them and make sure they don’t fall into the hands of the dragon worshippers. To help narrow the search, do we have any idea where they might have been before they were lost!”

Logan:

Continuing to follow the king, Logan looks forward to seeing the craftsmanship of the elves.

Quote from Scott_R_Simmons >>

Logan:

Continuing to follow the king, Logan looks forward to seeing the craftsmanship of the elves.

 (Still waiting)