Duendewood Resistance: Amaranth's Burden

This is more backstory for NPCs, following Amaranth's flight from the Elvish capital of Annun. All of this can be assumed to have happened well before the current point in the timeline. 

"Halt!" called the humans, and Amaranth looked up from steering the oxen to make sure the trees around them were clear. This was a small group, possibly not even one of Duke Lamont's patrols; they might just be bandits. 

"Yes?" asked Amaranth, responding in the common tongue that they'd spoken. She let the oxen slow, but didn't stop. "Who are you?" She muttered something under her breath, and grew stronger...

"Silence!" demanded the tall human in the heavy plate. "We serve King Lamont! It is not your place to question us."

Amaranth resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and called for the oxen to halt. 

The man advanced, stopping beside the cart. "State your names, your business, and your destination."

Amaranth looked down at him. "This is Duendewood, friend. We travel under the auspices of the High Provost. Duke Lamont's authority extends to a single human province, though his infamy extends well beyond that."

The man's expression curdled. "So, you're traitors. Step down and surrender."

Amaranth glanced around at the dozen men and women who lined the road around the cart. Then she sighed. "Very well," she said, "You've caught us. The amulet is yours."

The human frowned at her as she stepped down from the cart. "Amulet?"

"The Legacy of Kings," Amaranth said, reaching into the pouch on her belt. "The Elvish amulet of rulership that carries the wisdom and power of each generation.  No doubt the treasure that King Lamont will seek." She doubted her ability to complete the deception, and in fact the human still looked suspicious -- but she pulled on the chain and slapped the amulet into his hand before he had a chance to refuse. 

Tovarin tucked himself under the cart's seat. 

The human began to scream as the icon in his hand wrapped around him and tore into his body, draining his strength as it burrowed towards his heart. Amaranth whispered a word and then a phrase, and what had seemed casual robes around her now showed their true face as armor, even as she increased her gracefulness. 

She pulled the longsword from under the seat of the cart, and cut down the nearest bandit. On the far side of the cart, her mother drew back on her longbow and loosed an arrow, taking down another of their attackers. 

Then Amaranth was moving through their ambushers, stronger and faster than their enemies expected. Milathyra grew impatient with the ones on the other side, and cut them down with lances of flame. By the time Amaranth came around the oxen, who were looking on with a sort of bewildered contempt for such bloodshed, all their attackers were dead. 

"Well," said Milathyra. "It seems I owe Baethira an apology. Apparently wizardry is good for something after all."

Amaranth shook her head. Everything she crafted, even the cursed amulet that she'd laid on the human leader, required wizardry. Half of the comforts that her mother took for granted in their home required wizardry. Wizardry was the foundation of the Elvish nation. She opened her mouth to say so, then closed it again. It was no use; her mother only knew what she knew, and nothing else was worth knowing.