FSTGOD Main Story Thread

[Straha]

The Four Emmisarries of the Three Gods stood tall and graceful as the King entered the room, while their bodyguards looked a lot less frightening, and certainly looked less putrid as well. After the King had settled himself the Emmisarries began to give the gifts, fruits barely found in market places in the "known world," jewels of unimaginable beauty, deadly swords, ceremonial swords, beutiful art, and even more beautiful robes. The most impressive part fo the collection were the two huge rugs, rolled onto the floor as the final gift. One was brightly coloured showing a single ship underneath three suns, another was darkly coloured showed the same ship, but had three moons over it.

After the last gift had been given the lead ambassador came forth. "Your most imperial highness, we offer you these gifts, and so much more. All that we ask, now, is that we may discuss certain matters with you, preferably over a map.

[Alyrium Denryle]

"Jeutak must be a land of fools. The Jihad will not stop, it will not turn and it will not falter unless crushed. If the Trolls of Jeutak, however are afraid to fight the Jihad, let them cower behind those willing to fight."

"Do not insult my honour, barbarian. If the land of the Wolgars wishes to throw its warriors into the fire like this so be it. But I do not see why my land should do the same for foreighn powers. Do not confuse cowardice with prudence, savage".

The half dragon, Alystrian stood up to his impressive 7 foot 6 inch well built height, his own wings spread slightly in order to make himself slightly more imposing than his already large figure was apt to do

He then spoke in a thickly accented <insert common language>
"This is no place for insults, but rather for well reasoned arguments and honorable conduct. The decision of the Jeutak is their own to make and they shall live with it. For good or for ill. And the Wolgar, are our dealings with them, are not barbarians in the common sense of the word and should not be refered to as such in civilized company"
He then sat back down.

[Agent Fisher]

A group of twenty men, all calavry rode across the land. They had paid the way to pass through Tear, being escorted the whole way.

Captain Damrod led the way.

The group slowed when they reached the boarders of the Ethereal Realm of Masotan. Damrod looked into the land.

"Hopefully we will find what we are searching for."

With that the group rode for Et. When they reached the city, Damrod spoke to one of the city guards.

"We come from Gondor seeking an meeting with your king."

[Pablo Sanchez]

The oasis town of Sijilmasa was the sole civilized setting in the desert south of the Atlas mountains. It was the point at which the Council Roads reached their southern extremity, sustained by a natural spring within its walls. From miles around the deep desert Berbers came to trade and to water their animals. Sijimasa was the northern terminus of their nomadic trade routes. They sometimes brought goods from lands far to the South, lands which had no name except for "aberkan," the Berber word for black--so named for the people that lived there. The desert was full of monstrous beasts, far more dangerous than the deserts of Arabiya. Only the deep desert Berbers could traverse it.

This was the second purpose of Sijilmasa. The Berbers of the coast and the deep desert were valued in the Confederation of Andalus, for they were hardy men and very dangerous. Special rights were guaranteed to both groups, in return for which they prevented banditry in the North African provinces. Some 2500 of them served in the army of Andalus for pay and for booty. Now another 500 men were requested from the desert clans, to raise another regiment of cavalry. The clans had heard the tales of the jihaddis from their cousins in Tripolitania and points east (for their people ranged from the Atlantic coast to the very banks of the mighty Nile) and they wanted no part of it. The Andalusì were a tolerant people who ruled with wisdom, or at least competence. The jihad was a force that sought to grind the hole world under its feet until all people were the same.

The very concept was anathema to the Berbers. The 500 volunteers would be easily recruited.


----

The muster field of Marrakech was crowded now with young recruits undergoing training. Grizzled veterans bellowed at them, quartermasters handed out armor and practice weapons. Come summer, these boys would be molded into a regiment of strong soldiers.

----

"To your ships, ladies! We're moving out, and no complaints about the rats! They don't like the looks of you, either!" the teniente bellowed. There were five regiments of infantry to be loaded onto transports bound for Cartaga, just from Valencia alone. Regiments from Aljazair, Marrakech, and Toledo would also be moving east. Great things were happening. As many as twenty regiments of infantry would be deployed to Cartaga, it was said.

[Stormbringer]

"We come from Gondor seeking an meeting with your king."

The Guards, all hard faced men clad in the black and scarlet of the City Guard simply stared at the disheveled cavalry men.

"And you would be?"

[The Cleric]

The Four Emmisarries of the Three Gods stood tall and graceful as the King entered the room, while their bodyguards looked a lot less frightening, and certainly looked less putrid as well. After the King had settled himself the Emmisarries began to give the gifts, fruits barely found in market places in the "known world," jewels of unimaginable beauty, deadly swords, ceremonial swords, beutiful art, and even more beautiful robes. The most impressive part fo the collection were the two huge rugs, rolled onto the floor as the final gift. One was brightly coloured showing a single ship underneath three suns, another was darkly coloured showed the same ship, but had three moons over it.

After the last gift had been given the lead ambassador came forth. "Your most imperial highness, we offer you these gifts, and so much more. All that we ask, now, is that we may discuss certain matters with you, preferably over a map.

"Certainly," Dalleth replied. "One can be procured and you may disclose your thoughts to myself in a more private setting."

[Agent Fisher]

"We come from Gondor seeking an meeting with your king."

The Guards, all hard faced men clad in the black and scarlet of the City Guard simply stared at the disheveled cavalry men.

"And you would be?"

" I am Captain Damrod, son of Angbor. Second in command of all cavalry units. I have been dispacthed by King Haleth to meet with your king. We have been riding for a long distance. My men and I would appreciate a place to rest and maybe some food for our horses."

[Murazor]

Riva, Cyprus.

"The last thing we need are disputes among us. This meeting was called because the Jihad threatens Europe with its very existence. That much is the undeniable truth" said Tarne Yelbo, the Master Diplomat, with weariness in his voice. "If the Jeutak representative believes that his nation won't gain anything by joining the pact, so be it. However, I would advise my esteemed colleague to stop the argument now. Jeutak won't benefit if you gain the ill will of other nations because of some offensive words said in the heat of a moment."

It had been a hasty and tiring ride from the port to the inland capital city, but he had arrived in time to hear of the arrival of messengers of the leaders of the Jihad. The audience that the Rivan king had granted them could turn out to be a very bad and unexpected development. Yelbo intended to ascertain the true position of Cyprus before saying anything more.

[Murazor]

High Lord's Hall, Windward.

"Trolls, trolls and trolls! Always trolls! I am fed up with this. If the beasts have forgotten Four Springs, I will teach them a lesson to remember. We can't risk the trolls moving in the west with our attention focused in the Jihad. We have to finish with them once and for all. I want a complete campaign planned to annex their territory. And I want it soon. We will start to move before the end of the spring" yelled Albian.

"Albian, I sincerely believe that this is not a good idea. We are not what we used to be and our efforts are already pretty dispersed. Starting a war with the trolls might be the last straw."

"When the Conclave voted me as High Lord, I promised that I would do anything to save this nation from collapse. Our trade network has suffered and the bigger powers might completely expel us from the Mediterranean trade in a few years. At the very least, I will do everything I can to ensure that nothing threatens our country. And I intend to fulfil my oath. What intelligence do we have about the troll territory?"

"It is pretty poor, considering that our spies can't get near their lairs without risk of being eaten, but we have a decent knowledge of the geography. It is a pretty rough and mountainous territory divided in several small fiefdoms controlled by each clan. Several clans have allied recently by reasons unknown and from their territory is where most of the recent raiders come."

"Send scouts. Send spies. Do whatever you need, but I want to know more" said the High Lord with an edge of his voice that suggested that the discussion had ended.

[Dahak]

Raladan Mountains

Calinar stood near a steep cliffside and gazed out over the flatlands of the Rus. Disturbingly flat for someone used to the mountains of Taladan.
It was now, or never. Far below him, several regiments waited for their commands. Dragons even farther away were ready as well.
His father would throw a fit, he was sure. But then it was already far to late. The Empire had no other option, and his father would see it soon. If not, there were other steps...
His mind stretched out to the members of the team. ~Strike!~ was his only command.

***

They received the command, and they obeyed. The six members of the Obsidian Order, the most elite of the magical elites, went to work. They fixated a small hill village. They had spent time to observe, study, analyze their target.
Suddenly they vanished into invisibility.

***

The village was quite unremarkable. Home to a mere 200 people, it sat atop a small hill, if given Taladani standards it could be called that. Mostly wooden huts and palisades, it didn't equate to the far more advanced cities of civilized people.
But it also was the first step towards domination of the plains and the Rus.

They were trained in this kind of business. Sneaky they were, even without magical assistance.
It was very early, just before dawn, and there was almost no activity in the village. Perfect for Torval. Silently as the wind he flowed through the village. His mind probing, he found his target. A shaman, in the hut before him. He stepped in and saw a small man sleeping on a cot. He could sense the limited magical talent. Pitiful really. But even the tiniest snow mosquito could sting....
He smiled and stepped forward. His mind concentrated and a short burst of red light flashed from his hands towards the man. The man had time to tear his eyes open before he fell dead to the bed. The red flowed back to Torval, lingering there for a few moments until he absorbed the life force of the now dead shaman. Still smiling, he vanished again, and flowed to the next hut.

Before Kiran lay a huge man, a powerful warrior. Seconds later, all that remained was a lifeless corpse, devoid any life. She went to work on the next one...

***

Outside the village, Yurak and Werrad performed powerful and ancient magic. Casting their spells, the ground started to swirl, to move. Suddenly, a fist broke through the mud. Then another one. And another.
Within minutes there stood almost 50 bodies in different states of decay, from the recently died, to the skeleton. Very slowly they moved. Towards the village, groaning. The two mages vanished back into their invisibility just before the first guard on duty spotted the corpses.
Bells rang, guards screamed. Within seconds, a group of guards gathered. Guarding shamans started to work their magic, weak as it maybe.
From wooden towers, the guards rained arrows and bolts down on the dead. But they just stuck in their bodies, or worse, just went through the skeletons. Shouts were heard, commands screamed, and a group of gourds, armed with pikes and swords, moved out of the protection of the village.

***

Hannan had a very special job. Standing near the village, still invisible, she gathered her power and concentrated it. It took her minutes to gather the power required for it. And it was time. Already she could feel them. They were near, it was time.
She released her power in a mighty flash of magic, like a exploding star. She fell to the still slightly shaken ground and gasped for air.
Though most of the guards were confused with the sudden spike of activity, a single Shaman was paying attention and spotted her. She was too weak after the burn-out of power. She never had a chance to avoid the magical arrow. But as she was dying on the ground, she smiled as she heard the deep screams of the Dragons.

***

The Guards never stood a chance. Most of them were pre-occupied with zombies and skeletons, others were still looking quizzically at the now dead woman when suddenly their village turned into hell itself. They, too, heard the screams and only on a few of them dawned what was happening.
The Dragons had flown in low, as low as they could, with the just rising sun behind their backs. The Shamans, fooled by the magical energies still flowing around and the other diversions hadn't paid attention.
And so, on their first fly-by the Dragons had decimated almost the complete defense of the village, turning cots and houses, pallisades and gates into burning wrecks. But it was not all well for the Dragon Riders and their smaller companions. Some guards and shamans were able to shed their shock and surprise, and managed to strike at them. And some got lucky and dragons were falling from the sky.

Then they came in for a second turn to take care of the rest have their revenge.
This time, though, they had no sun to protect, or unsuspecting guards. On their second fly-by the dragons faced tougher and thicker resistance. Fireballs were flying, arrows and magical bolts, lightning strikes.

And then it was all over...

***

Crown Prince Calinar jumped down from his dragon.
Staying behind the attack, he had observed. The still smoking former wood crunched below his boots, charred corpses lying amidst the rubble. He took everything in and smiled satisfied.
"Done very well, Wing Master Kurula," he nodded towards the commanding officer of the Dragon Riders. "I am sorry for your losses, though."
"A tragedy, my Lord," he stoically nodded. "We lost 4 of our great dragons, and 5 of our lesser dragons. The second fly-by got most of them..."
"It was unavoidable I guess. This way, no one was able to spread the word..."
"Yes, my Lord. We have flown circles around the village and didn't spot anyone fleeing."
"Good. The ground forces will arrive in the next hours. We will use this as a forward base. We cannot do this from Teltalanai..."

[speaker-to-trolls]

Lord Atatsk holds the Wolgars gaze, but hears the other representatives' words. He nods in acknowledgement. "Yes, of course. This is not the place for such argument". He sits (if we're not sitting ignore this). He thinks that he should very much like to continue this dispute with the Wolgar outside. But at the back of his mind he begins to wonder if he has just done something very foolish.

[Stormbringer]

"And you would be?"

" I am Captain Damrod, son of Angbor. Second in command of all calavry units. I have been dispacthed by King Haleth to meet with your king. We have been riding for a long distance. My men and I would appreciate a place to rest and maybe some food for our horses."

"If you are able to present a proper introduction we will see you to the diplomatic quarters of the Royal Compound. If not we can still arrange some suitable accomodations for you."

The guard waited.

[Agent Fisher]

"And you would be?"

" I am Captain Damrod, son of Angbor. Second in command of all calavry units. I have been dispacthed by King Haleth to meet with your king. We have been riding for a long distance. My men and I would appreciate a place to rest and maybe some food for our horses."

"If you are able to present a proper introduction we will see you to the diplomatic quarters of the Royal Compound. If not we can still arrange some suitable accomodations for you."

The guard waited.

"My apologies. We have been riding with very little rest since leaving Gondor, and I have forgotten my manners."

" I am Damrod, Son of Angbor, Brother of Haleth, Son of Turgon, Son of Hallas. I am a Nephew of King Haleth. As proof of my nobility I offer the High Seal of Gondor" Damrod showed the ring on his left index finger and removed a peice of parchment and presented to the guards.

On the parchment was the following.

Code: Select all

The bearer of this peice of parchment and wearer of the ring of the High Seal of Gondor, speaks in my name and is my blood relative.

Haleth, Son of Turgon.  High King of Gondor.

Damrod sat upon his horse looking down at the guard.

[Marcao]

Alidrial Territory

The word about the decision by the Andalus and other nations about pending conflict with the Jihad were received by the Alidrial pillars quietly. The Alidrial had immediately pledged support that was no surprise. Until the Jihaddi were no longer a direct threat to Alidrial borders, the navy would be forced to remain near home in order to protect the homeland. With the Jihaddi neutralized doors that were presently closed would be opened. Until then, the Alidrial would have to remain content with safe guarding their interests meager as they were.

The Pillars debated for a little over an hour as to how the latest resources which had been allocated to the Alidrial military should be used. It was decided, that the coastline fortifications would be improved and that the Alidrial light infantry regiment would be brought up to full strength. The conversation then moved on towards the ways that the Alidrial could support the coalition which was arraying itself against the Jihaddi.

[Rogue 9]

Morwood, Eire

Farathiel led his patrol through some of the mid-distance reaches of the forest, accompanied by a cadre of recruits. King Artair had ordered several new ranger companies raised, and here he was, thought the elf ruefully, training a bunch of raw woodsmen in the arts of wilderness warfare. At least their hunding experience would do them some good at this, since the rangers most wanted to be hunting their targets, not fighting them.

Suddenly, he held his left hand upright in a fist, signaling for silence. His men went absolutely quiet within seconds, along with most of the recruits. Two had to have hands slapped over their mouths when they missed the signal that they had been taught earlier. Farathiel took note, but had more pressing matters. He dropped to one knee and examined the ground.

The footprint was reptilian or bird-like. Three claws extending forward, with one pointing back. Talons had sunk into the loam at the end of the toes. But the most alarming note about the print was that it was half a meter across.

Farathiel twitched two fingers over his shoulder, signalling Willem of Utherbury to his side. The other ranger, a human, moved up silently and dropped into a crouch behind his superior.

'What's Klorphaxius doing all the way out here?' asked the elf in the crude sign language the rangers used for emergency communication when silence was crucial.

'I don't know,' responded the man, 'but the print looks nearly a week old. He hasn't been here within the past two or three days at least.'

'Concur. We must return to base and report. It may be that nothing will come of this, but we must be sure.'

[Murazor]

Port city, Arashi.

Arico Melok was the youngest and most unexperienced member of the Diplomatic Corps, but his mission had some importance: he had been entrusted the task of ensuring the supremacy of Nectarinian trade in Arashi against the growing threat that the Khazarians posed in the Black Sea.

As he reached the end of the gangway, he turned to face the assembled peoples searching for a guard or an official.

"I have been sent by the High Lord of the Nectarin Republic in order to request a meeting with the Arashian goverment in order to discuss matters that affect both our countries" he said.

[General Zod]

Port city, Arashi.

Arico Melok was the youngest and most unexperienced member of the Diplomatic Corps, but his mission had some importance: he had been entrusted the task of ensuring the supremacy of Nectarinian trade in Arashi against the growing threat that the Khazarians posed in the Black Sea.

As he reached the end of the gangway, he turned to face the assembled peoples searching for a guard or an official.

"I have been sent by the High Lord of the Nectarin Republic in order to request a meeting with the Arashian goverment in order to discuss matters that affect both our countries" he said.

One of the local guard Captains at the port meets with the representative. Not being all that skilled in diplomacy, he grunts in acknowledgment and says he'll relay the message to the Emperor's Seneschal. After a scant handful of minutes, he returns, directing him to the Chaos Gate for the city port. In front of the gate is a magus wearing purple robes with the royal seal on his tunic, and another individual wearing robes denoting him as an official of the state, surprisingly well built and in shape than most state officials would normally be in a prosperous kingdom.

The man calmly approaches the individuals, stark, unnaturally white hair denoting him of one of the emperor's descendants, though it's impossible to tell of which side of the family he belongs. "I am Jacyn Sekloong, the Seneschal for Emperor Ido Arashi the tenth. The emperor has decided to allow me to handle your case. However we will require documents to verify you are indeed an official representative of the Nectarin republic. After that we will accompany you to the city's capital through the Chaos Gate, and if the emperor wishes after my counsel has been given when you inform me of the situation he will permit you a private audience."

After making his declaration the seneschal goes silent, calmly waiting for a response.

[Murazor]

The man calmly approaches the individuals, stark, unnaturally white hair denoting him of one of the emperor's descendants, though it's impossible to tell of which side of the family he belongs. "I am Jacyn Sekloong, the Seneschal for Emperor Ido Arashi the tenth. The emperor has decided to allow me to handle your case. However we will require documents to verify you are indeed an official representative of the Nectarin republic. After that we will accompany you to the city's capital through the Chaos Gate, and if the emperor wishes after my counsel has been given when you inform me of the situation he will permit you a private audience."

After making his declaration the seneschal goes silent, calmly waiting for a response.

The Diplomat bowed when the Seneschal introduced himself and after hearing the request of the Arashian official, Arico pulled a golden chain around his neck until extracting a medallion tied to the chain that had been previously hidden under his clothes.

"It is an honour to meet you, Seneschal Sekloong. My name is Arico Melok, Diplomat of the Nectarin Republic" said the Diplomat. "As you can see, my necklace denotes me as a member of the Nectarinian Diplomatic Corps. My documents also identify me as an official representative of the Republic appointed by the High Lord and the Republican Conclave" continued Arico holding out the parchment with the seal of the High Lord on it. "If this is enough to confirm my identity, I am ready to travel to your capital as soon as you allow me to do so."

[General Zod]

The Seneschal's eyes glow briefly. He's clearly using some power or another but exactly what is being done is uncertain. (OOC: using psychic gifts to determine the truthfulness behind what's being said).

"Very well. We shall conduct you through the chaos gate to the Capital should you have no objection with this means of travel. We will provide some refreshments there and hear your case upon arrival."

[Stormbringer]

"My apologies. We have been riding with very little rest since leaving Gondor, and I have forgotten my manners."

" I am Damrod, Son of Angbor, Brother of Haleth, Son of Turgon, Son of Hallas. I am a Nephew of King Haleth. As proof of my nobility I offer the High Seal of Gondor" Damrod showed the ring on his left index finger and removed a peice of parchment and presented to the guards.

On the parchment was the following.

Code: Select all

The bearer of this peice of parchment and wearer of the ring of the High Seal of Gondor, speaks in my name and is my blood relative.

Haleth, Son of Turgon.  High King of Gondor.

Damrod sat upon his horse looking down at the guard.

"Very well, if you'll leave your horses here we will arrange for your lodgings." The guard motioned for them to bring around a simple open carraige. "If you'll go with my men."

Word had already been sent to the palace to expect the visitors. The Gondorian embassy was an odd one, but they would be treated respectfully for now.

[admiral_danielsben]

An old man worked, deep underground in his home. He was old even among the ranks of the long-lived Khazars, nearing his ninth decade in the world. Still, he worked. He knew that the Imperium had a shortage of men and women, particularly men, to defend the land and perhaps grow outwards. He also knew that the population could increase but slowly - even with more and more underground farms producing tubers and fungi, and underground stables, and more and more farmland used aboveground, he knew that the population couldn't possibly increase fast enough. He wondered, there must have been a way, some way for the Imperium to defend itself. He was obsessed...

Many years ago, he heard about a legend, of a man made of Earth and metal, who could follow orders and serve as soldiers - if not particuarly good ones. The legend was fraught with danger he knew, but he was obsessed. But soldiers made of the earth, who needed only the earth for sustenance.... that was worth a lot, wasn't it?

He worked, using all of his abilities with metal in an attempt to animate the clay creature he had built. Crowns, bands, metal clothing, all failed. He tried to carve the Ineffable Personal name of God in six different ways, none worked. Still, he labored..... perhaps soon he will finally get it right, he mused.

(OOC: this one's for you, frigid.)

[Beowulf]

Caliphon-Anarchia Border

"I am Megumi, a plenipotentiary ambassador from the Patrician to the Sea Lord."

[speaker-to-trolls]

To the north and east of Jeutak lie the lands of the barbarian horsemen. They are arranged into various petty kingdoms, the names of which few can be bothered to learn. In one of these kingdoms, named Alachia, two troll merchants sit in a tavern. At least they appear to be merchants, dressed in reasonably rich clothes, with tiny idols of the merchant god Harss around their necks. They sit at a table, talking with each other in low tones. What none of the other occupants of the bar have noticed is that they are not speaking in Jeutaki, they are speaking in the code-language, and what's more, they are paying much more attention to the speech of the other patrons than anyone would realise.
"Did you hear about the attack over in Hachlin?. Gods damned Taladani destroyed the place, their dragons burned it to ashes, every man woman and child..."
"Bastards!. Yes, I heard about it. And their witches raised the dead, they say, the townspeople were attacked by the corpses of their own forefathers, the devils..."
"You know I'd like to get a few minutes alone with one of those witches of theirs with a sword in my hand. Just give me five minutes, I would show them what it is to fight a real man, not helpless innocents..."
"Oh yes?, you against the Taladan empire?. That I would like to see. You would stain yourself with piss then run in fear at the first sighn of one of those lizards of theirs".
"You take that back!, what would you know about it anyway?"
"I fought the Taladani, didn't I?, I've seen what they can do, haven't I?. They've greater power than we'll ever know, hell-power, witches power. Honour drowns in the flood of fear before such things. All we can do is pray they do not take interest in us". The group of men is silent, even the cocky one, Ichtar, knows there is truth in what the veteran warrior says. Soberly they stare at their drinks. The man who spoke second, Hector (an ancient name from an ancient war, history become myth, used across Europe, even where its origin is unknown) speaks "I hear they move eastward, I hear the dragons come for Alachia". The men sit silent and each utters a private prayer.
The two troll merchants speak to each other in the code-tongue, then get up and head toward the exit. They have now heard many conversations such as this, and they are sure of their conclusion. Taladan expands, eastward and southward. They exit, flipping a Jeutak gold coin to the barman as they do so. They must make contact with their masters.

[Dahak]

Taladanai, Potala Palace

The axe cluttered to the ground with a thud.
"Here is your proof, father," Calinar simply said. His father was already a startling shade of pink, and it seemed he wouldn't recover any time soon.
"How dare you?" he shouted through his office. "Attacking a village and destroying it? I didn't authorize that!"
Calinar pointed towards the axe. "You asked me to investigate the origins of the ones responsible for the death of the guardsman. I did."
"'Investigations' normally don't involve full strike forces invading enemy territory," Godric boomed.
"Call it an investigation in force."
"We will now have to face these barbarians. They will unite, and stand against us. I can't prove it, but I start to think you're behind this all!" his voice went cold. "You forced us into an unnecessary war, you fool!"
"Fool?" Calinar slightly raised his voice. "You have no idea, father," he nearly spat the word. "You'Re happy sitting here on the mountain, and pretend the world is not changing. Here's a news for you: it is! If this 'war' means we will become greater, then it is good. The other powers will grow. And soon we will be too weak." Calinar stood proud and powerful, basking in his own righteousness.
"You will pay for this, one way or the other, in the future... I should have you arrested."
"You won't dare. It would weaken the Imperial Family, something you cannot afford. And then you're frightened of me," he actually chuckled.
"If you think so," Godric managed to say without showing his fear.
The sky suddenly grew dark, a rolling thunder was heard not far from the palace. "You can do as you please, of course. But I can't talk all night with you. I have a war to fight." He turned on his heels and stormed out the office.
As he was gone, the sun broke through the clouds again...


Jeutak

Ambassador Mrrard was still feeling a bit scared by all those trolls. After the recent turn of events on their southern border, the Emperor has sent him to smooth relations with the Troll kingdom. Mrrard wasn't high enough to know details, but from what he heard via grapevine, this matter was out of the Emperor's hand, and the show of the Crown Prince. He shuddered at the thought. If he was running this, it would become quite ugly. Though it was clear, the Empire was interested in the wild, uncivilized regions.
Nevertheless, here he was and stood before the seat of Jeutak power.
The guards looked quite menacing and only grumbled at his presence.
"I am sent by the Emperor of Taladan, for talks with your leader," he said without even flinching. Despite his fears, his diplomatic training was superb.

[Marcao]

Cyprus
Rive, The Citadel

The Alidrial representative had watched patiently as the gathered representatives of various powers decided where they and their individual nations stood. The power which seemed to be arraying itself against the Jihaddi was significant and should be more than adequate for the task at hand. As conversations continued for a bit longer, the representative made sure to glance closely at the faces and expressions of those that spoke. It was surprising what one could learn by simple body language alone, and while most if not all of those gathered in the meeting where trained for hiding such things, a few openings here and there presented themselves.

The Alidrial intelligence services were not the best in the known world. Nonetheless, by virtue of being a trading nation a great deal of information was available far more so than most suspected. The Pillars were relatively well informed, even if the majority of the information did not come from well placed and well funded sources. A great deal was hearsay, but truth was often found in those terms. The presence of Amel was always a boon, but it was rumored that her powers were on the wane. Nonetheless, Amel remained powerful and she had counseled him closely on this meeting.

The problem was of course that her words had been a bit vague. He knew that there were a handful of people present now that were of interest to the short term future of the Alidrial. Finding them however had proven to be a bit more difficult than he had expected. Amel had assured him that he would feel an unusual sensation when he caught sight of them. That he would know instinctively what she meant and had touched his shoulder lightly. She had assured him that he would know what he sought, if he were to concentrate on Ishna’s blessing. It was those words that he found himself contemplating. The blessing of Ishna? What did that mean? A second later, it was made clear.

The eye!

His head turned, his eyes searching for those of the gathered representatives. He glanced quickly making sure to remain polite, but trying to make eye contact. His eyes slid from one representative to another before coming to rest on those of the WolGar. His eyes flickered along those of Tapper for a moment, a strange sensation manifested on the back of his own neck. The hairs standing up on end, he knew it was magic at work a millisecond later, when his eyes came to rest upon those of the half-elf Malrissa, a familiar symbol flared into his mind. The singular eye of Ishna, the mark of Amel. He blinked, his ears twitching slightly as he realized that he had found that which he sought. His hand moved a wordless signal that he would appreciate a chance to speak with the WolGar representatives when the meeting was over.

Once the meeting was concluded, he performed that which politeness required and made his way outside of the great hall. Once outside, he settled on waiting for the emergence of the WolGar representatives.