E6 Round 4 Tarandi Event - The Hunter's Moon Clan-Meet

[BladeofObliviom]

Danneta-Yvaon was the Jewel of the West, the greatest city known to Tarandi and rivaling even the great cities of faraway lands as told by the Dream Speakers. Perched at the base of Kladi, one of the the Seven Maidens, and stretching across both sides of the River Yvaon, the city had grown enormously in just a few years fed by wealth from across Tarandi; no longer a mere walled pasture, the pastures seemed to drift continuously outward as more buildings were constructed on the outskirts, more wealth flowing in and more people. Outlying clan-shelters that had begun to construct on the surface for more space were swallowed by the city as it grew, new wall-layers were built, and it grew ever outwards. Month by month great quantities of quarried stone and Solais-wood bolstered it, the Mak-clan’s coalition grew wider and wider in awe and fear of what had happened to the Kaon, more and more people flowed in.

The city was sprawling now, a testament to the growing power and wealth of the Mak-clan and its allies, and tonight thousands – residents of the city and otherwise - filled the streets in celebration under the shining Hunter’s Moon at the end of the harvest season. But that was a mere backdrop, for while foreigners were permitted to enter the city during these festivities – even the beasts of the gray lake, if they could behave themselves – of more interest to the Great tribes was the Clan-meet held in a place now only an hour’s walk outside the city’s outskirts, where once it had been a half-day’s trek: The Ancient Kaon-Clanhome, scoured of its prior inhabitants and its living spaces and amenities turned to new ends as a sort of retreat.

Though no clan would allow outsiders into their clanhome except as hostages or to be married into the clan, the Kaon-clan was lost, and this perhaps the most severe insult to their legacy – the reduction of their ancestral cavern home to a place with no residents, its sleeping-chambers reserved for the use of envoys, messengers, and other foreign travelers welcomed by the Mak-clan. The walls and floors were chiseled to straight smoothness, the chambers dug out with channels and decorated with old reliefs, a few of which had been chiseled out by occupiers. The hot springs in the depths were open for use by guests, the whole area watched by hunters to keep riffraff and troublemakers out. The branded No-clanhome was a feasting-place from which visitors could stage a social sortie into the greater city’s celebrations, or perform diplomacy in the comfort of one’s own skin in warm waters.

The Nocter and Noctrix were expected to make their presence known later in the evening, but for the time being the foreigners were left to attend to themselves under Militia protection and that provided by their own parties.

[Laura]

From across the Seven Sisters Mountains descended an entourage of Shándole warriors, led by two shaní and an aging human man. They came with a number of warhorses, dogs, some finely knapped weapons and sturdy wool and hide armor.

One of the lead shaní was M’Áwaní’Dóah and at his side was a strong and sleek war hound, silver-grey in color. M’Áwaní kept his dark grey eyes alert his keen senses vigilant, as they passed through the wonders of Danneta-Yvaon and then journeyed the short distance further to caverns of No-Clanhome. Rumors of wealth and war had filtered through the mountains to the ears of the Shándole and they had come with both curiosity and wariness.

“I have nary never seen so many people,” spoke the younger shaná, as they helped their party bring their horses to stable. “The land of the Dannu-Gaon is certainly a lively and interesting place.”

The human nodded his hand resting absently on the black iron sword belted to his hip, “I traveled across much of Tarandi in my younger days, but in a few short years Clan Mak has managed to turn a once cold and remote corner of the world into a beating heart of commerce and trade. The skill and gile of the Nocter and Noctrix is certainly something to be respected. I look forward to meeting them in person.”

M’Áwaní nodded to the other two, his dark face more pensive than agreeable. The tattoo that inked its way around his left eyes an up over the brow was crinkled slightly as he looked around No-Clanhome at the many guards and considered its history. “Death creates a void an’ the water will flow quickly to fill such a void. In this way one people’s ruin can become another peoples’ greatest opportunity. Still, I kin the stains of death might a’linger on regardless, in one form o’ another.”

They found quarters and took some rest and refreshment, bidding their warriors to do likewise and cause no trouble with any of the Mak hunters or the armed guards of any other visiting dignitaries. Then the three of them decided to walk the corridors together, familiarizing themselves with the many ways and passages and admiring the reliefs and craftsmanship that had turned the caverns into a great hall.

To any other representatives they met, the shaní introduced the themselves with a bow, fist to forehead - “Long days and Warm nights to yeh!” - and the human with a more conventual bow and shorter greeting. “Well met.”

They were M’Áwaní’Dóah - I Returned from the Darkness, Karíkí’moshi’makana – Summer’s Hope Lingers and Roland Sentinel of the Rosewood Stone. The fine war hound at M’Áwaní's heels was Wind of the North, sired from the lineage of Night Shadow and the huskies of Southrock and well trained to guard and protect. The wolf hound was a gift intended for the Nocter and Noctrix to show respect for their home and hospitality.

---

Spoiler: Named Characters

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M’Áwaní’Dóah - I Returned from the Darkness
Elder, Winter Counselor and skilled warrior and scout of the Shándole. He has been training with Roland and is close friends to both him and Karíkí.


Karíkí’moshi’makana – Summer’s Hope Lingers
Caregiver and teacher. She was once M’Áwaní’Dóah's daughter and is currently Roland's wife.



Roland Sentinel of the Rosewood Stone
Representative of the SOS, who has been living in Shándole and training M’Áwaní to fight. He has recently entered into a controversial marriage with Karíkí.


Wind of the North
A war hound born from the lineage of M’Áwaní's dog Night Shadow and the Arrok Huskies of Southrock.

[Elemental]

Though travelling to Danneta-Yvaon should have been relatively easy, recent events forced the Aranin to avoid the most convenient roads lest he and his entourage be forced to fight for every inch. Nevertheless they managed to arrive in time for the Clan-Meet and Talsharn bid most of his entourage to enjoy the festivities and comforts of the Jewel of Tarandi. All save for three guards, one of whom carried his white standard. He remembered the Dannu-Gaon's more than tacit approval of Tsor's foolish 'security' measures and so did not consider it wise to walk into a potential trap alone.

Upon his arrival at the former Clanhome of the Kaon, Talsharn and his attendants dismounted their horses. The standard bearer planted Talsharn's banner into the dirt before seeing to the horses. Talsharn meanwhile entered the building flanked by the other two warriors. The two warriors were armed to the teeth and wore thick fur capes despite the relative warmth of the Kaon Clanhome. The lower halves of their faces were covered by woollen scarves and their deep red eyes scanned the chamber for signs of treachery. Talsharn himself looked much the same as he had at Southrocks all those years ago, though his hair was more grey than black now making the silver rings braided into it hard to see if not for how they glinted in the light. Though he was clearly over ten years older, he still carried himself with the same conviction and strength he had then.

He made his way over to the Shan representatives and gave a polite nod to them as they made their traditional greeting, bowing his head politely in return.

"Long days and warm nights to you as well," he said in response, "And may the Moon always guide you home, in this life and the next."

[Laura]

M’Áwaní took in the guards with their concealments and heavy armaments and recalled Talsharns hot-tempered response to the Arrok’s hidden hunters at Southrocks, but said nothing of the matter, nor did he comment on the weaponry of the guards. Instead, he simply nodded to the Aranin. “Aranin Talsharn’Cai, I remember ye well from Southrocks an’ Counselor Lyndonah’Cai spoke very well o’ yer generosity an’ hospitality a few year back. She has yet t’ find a worthy warrior upon whom to bestow the gift ye gave her, but hopes a hero will soon be recognized still.”

“Please Siah,” Karíkí said with a smile, “Will ye and yer guardsmen kin t’ join us? We hav been admiring the halls o’ this place an’ would welcome yer company.”

Roland remained silent, his blue eyes studying the halforc guards, as he stood beside the shaní.

[Elemental]

Talsharn smiled as he remembered back to the great feast held at his hall.

"Ah yes, the Loremaster is a skilled dancer, perhaps the best I have ever seen," he said, "She has the heart of a warrior, the grace to match it and suffers not from vainglory. Perhaps she may yet be the one to take up the Ring and drive back the Blightspawn, though I shouldn't judge her martial prowess solely from her fancy footwork."

He chuckled to himself at the memory before noticing the make of Roland's sword. He was surprised to find that he travelled with the Shan, but he did his best not to show it.

"Or perhaps this Sentinel would volunteer? The Moot did not think that so esteemed a fraternity would accept help from their artifice, but the offer stands should you desire such aid," he said, taking out the carved box from a pocket before stowing it away out of sight once more, "But enough of dire matters, gladly will I join you in a tour of this place. I knew the Dannu-Gaon lived beneath the ground, but I expected a dark hovel, not ornate halls."

[Laura]

Roland was caught off guard when the Aranin made an offer of a ring to his order. He had heard of the nine Phoenix Rings of the Viskari, but assumed the halforcs were reserving their treasures for local political allies. He blinked and then gave a small bow, "Your offer is heard and appreciated Arranin Talshan. Though I am past the prime of my years and was never the most celebrated of Sentinel warriors even in those days, there are heroes of great prowess in my order, who could doubtlessly make valiant use of such an artifact when standing beside to heroes of nations against the spawn. If you wish, I could deliver a ring to them, or carry a message to the Sentinels, so they may send a worthy warrior to receive your gift in person."

[Elemental]

"However you seek to deliver the Ring unto your brethren is fine with me Noble Sentinel," Talsharn said with a smile, "Only that the Ring be used against the Blightspawn so that innocents may be spared their wrath. This is a new age of hope after all and if there's one thing that all the peoples of Tarandi can agree on it's that such monsters should be slaughtered wherever they may be found. When you have decided, let me know."

[Laura]

“Very well then. I will carry your offer to the Sentinels of Stone and, whichever of my brethren are deemed worthy to receive your gift, will journey to Arran Viska to receive the honor in person.” Roland nodded his head to Talsharn, “But please, Aranin, call me Roland. While I am flattered that a great man like yourself would refer to me as “Noble Sentinel,” I feel it be better suited for the plaque of a statue, or a carving upon the wall of some great-hall, than to a living man such as I.” He smiled and a gestured at some of the cave decor of past warriors of the Kaon Clan as they walked past.

Karíkí smiled and took his arm, so they were in escort together as they walked. “Perhaps one day a statue shall be made,” she laughed, “We could set it up beside the mountain trail and bid it ‘Long days, oh Noble Sentinel’ every time we pass it up toward the Rosewood Stone.”

“Long days indeed,” Edge chimed in, though he looked less amused by the idea than the younger Shan.

“By the by,” Karíkí said, changing the subject as she turned toward Talshan, “I am pleased that we should have met so easily, for there was a matter we wished t' speak with ye about, Aranin.”

“There has been a growing call fer metals in Shandolýn an’ yer homeland is well reputed fer the fine silver that ye craft with. If Shandolé were to send tradesmen to yer country to try to procure a source of silver, would ye be a’willing t’ lend yer support toward such endeavors? Our people could return the favor, mayhap by helping ye to better fortify yer mines an' trading posts. The Sangar taught our warriors and engineers the same some years back an’ we would lend such skills toward any source we were able to secure in yer country. It would be well to also pass such techniques on so yer own trading posts and centers of resource could also be fortified.”

[Tentreto]

The Sangar delegation was once again grim faced, even though a number of those faces had changed. The journey had been long and cold, with a few outlaws attempting to harry them. Yet the group were mostly veterans, and all the fools had achieved was refreshing some of their supplies. Trudging along, with only one rider, they looked very out of place amongst the festivities, their eyes, darting about, very aware of their distance from their homeland. In fact only two of them seemed anything approaching calm.

The first was Prenadi, the now battle-scarred Pledge, who seemed almost happy to be here, her weapons and armlets gleaming.

The other was Jia Polahi, now no longer a youth, but her temperament far cooler, keeping her eye on the surroundings, in case anyone of rank was approaching. She was after all, leading this delegation for her Kimsman, no matter how much she despsied him.

Carefully, the Delegation sought out their quarters, eyeing their surroundings before getting themselves ready for the events to follow. Jia made her way directly to the main hall, to do what greetings she could, while Prenadi took a wider berth, going around carefully, looking for those who might cause some trouble.

[PepperP.]

Hiverness

The trio of Nordgen were awed by city at the foot of the Sisters. Awed and humbled, two of them were counted as royalty by their own people and yet their comforts and wealth fell far short of what was being displayed in the land of the River-Smiths so casually. Shysie eased the discomfort of her two companions with a soothing hand on their shoulders. The Oracle was used to the overwhelming force of culture shock by now though the Arrok, with who she spent most of her time abroad, were not so unlike her own people as to leave her feeling a stranger within their lands. Yara turned her head and thanked Shysie for her reassurance with a silent nod of her head, her pale silver eyes shining with gratitude. Chief Rayen's daughter was dressed in a black hood made of wolf fur and clasped by a metallic wolf head brooch. Her dark hair was braided down her back and she wore a circlet carved from mammoth tusk, fashioned with a symbol of the moon in its center. Her older brother, and heir to the Chiefdom of Hiverness, Kosumi, did not acknowledge Shysie's attempt at comfort as he surveyed the foreign city. His darker grey eyes stormed with envy even as he counted these people amongst his allies. His ivory circlet held the crest of Wolfenhall atop his shining black hair, which fell loose to his broad shoulders. A large Northern Husky Dog sat at his feet, watching the bustle with as much intensity as Kosumi did.

Shysie pointed out Talsharn of the Aran Viska to Kosumi and Yara. The trio approached and Kosumi took the lead.

"Honored Talsharn of the Aran Viska, I am Kosumi, son of Rayen and heir to Wolfenhall. My father has tasked me with sending his regrets that he could not be in attendance at your great feast." He had jumped into the conversation with the confidence of youth.

"His brother's wife, my Aunt, took ill and died of the wasting illness. It has been a poor season for wives in Hiverness of late." His face took on a far away look for a moment, as if thinking of somebody in particular.

Spoiler: Attendees

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In attendance
Shysie (Euden Oracle)
Kosumi (Chief Rayden's Heir, 20)
Yara (Chief Rayen's daughter, 17)

[Tychris1]

She began to play.

Sitting at the smoothly carved table hewn from the stones of the land itself she was marveled indeed. This was a cave unlike any she had seen before. The faces of the dead seemed strewn about haphazardly, their visages frozen by some unknown magic upon the walls enclosing her, and their voices were barely inaudible from beyond. Strange sights for strange times. This place was haunted, or at least she had thought her Bondmate would think so, and she grew increasingly reliant on his spiritual wisdom in recent times. This cave of man may have kept the cold winds beyond from her skin but she still felt a chill roll down her body, gooseflesh manifesting as she tried to focus on the strings in hand, and shut her eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. She opened her eyes once more, tapping a finger rhythmically to coordinate herself, and settled back once more into her playing. It was a strange tool, a gift from her love a foreign land she had never heard of, and sounded almost mystical from her Bondmate's beak. San-Gar he called it. The process was arduous, her fingers bled while her eyes wept, and now she made such sound as to evoke tears from her love's own eye.

Tears for Tears.

All things in life lead to another. Such was the Ancient Way. A truth she thought on as she watched the sight of many strangers wandering about, conversing, and eyeing each other with mysterious intent. She paid it no mind. She was a young girl, still in her prime, and despite being an heiress politics never interested her. Her hair was dark as night, eyes of soft blue like ice melting in the morning sun, and her pale skin was unmarred by signs of physical labor anywhere but her fingertips. She was a homely figure, tight lips pursed in concentration, and her swaying head provided a soft faint chorus of clinking beads amidst plaited hair. On the table 3 rats danced to the soft music she provided, their tails swaying in time to her thumping finger, and they chittered in delight as they circled around each other. Sometimes they would stand upright and imitate humans dancing before falling over and engaging in rolls or simply catching their breath. From the corner of her eye she saw what she had been waiting for. A red blur high above. Landing outside the provided lodgings two Vultures began to step inside. One covered in oily black fur and scarred down the front, Skystruck-Tree, and another with a host of beautiful red feathers that slowly bled away color until they were black or white around the head.

"Raced-The-Sun!" She stopped her playing and quickly ran to the crimson vulture to embrace him. Softly stroking the feathers on the back of his head as he nuzzled his beak against her neck she released the massive bird and gestured for both of the vultures to join her at her table. They regarded the River Elves kindly, nodding their heads in unison, and though the woman and her vulture bondmate were engaged in their passionate music Skystruck-Tree responded with "Cloudless skies and fitful dreams to you, kin of the west. How is First-And-Only?"

[Laura]

M’Áwaní smiled genuinely pleased to see the old vulture, looking no less and no more grizzled than the year he first met her. “She is well, Wise One. She has changed her name to Mare-who-Mothered-the-First-Chorus. Though she has begun to grow a little tired and swooped o’ back, I kin she is happy. She has four foals all grown now, an’ three young grandfoals. They can often be found tending a farm an apple orchard near one of the River Town camps, along with a family o’ shani they are quite close to. She is happy, but I kin the youngest o’ her grand-foals longs fer a bigger life than tending t’ barley an’ apples. He claimed to me that he is a young stallion o’ great ambition an’ will soon leave his mother an’ grandmother to become a warrior an’ singer, who’s name shall be known to all the lands. Children often dream big and speak even bigger, but perhaps he shall indeed make such’a name fer himself.”

M’Áwaní looked over the the rest of the party from the Carrion Ward. “Who have strayed with ye so far from yer little pond?” He smirked to let her know he spoke such in good humor and meant no disrespect to the sacred Grey Lake. “I admit, I weren’t truly expecting to see ye here. I have heard there is much ado in the Carrion Ward o’ late.”

[Tentreto]

Slowly and carefully, a small group from Sangar slipped out of the main hall to the outside city. There were festivities, music, song, dancing, and importantly an audience. The opportunity to hear the songs of such a people, at such an important time? It was an opportunity few would miss.

Carefully the group made their way to where the music was being played, clutching their instruments in their hands tightly. For a while, they simply listened, taking in the local music, and how they sang the songs of their people. It was a matter of respect, after all, any who had music had their own stories, and it was not their place to interfere. Moreover, it gave the crowds time to become accustomed to their presence, as their instruments were likely things many had never seen, especially with such strings.

Eventually however, when a lull presented itself, the head of the group, a young trapper named Hiranah, placed his fingers to string, and began to play the group in, happy to have such an audience to play to. Normally this would only be heard in the Den, but a festival such as this? Why waste it? The had not had a Maestro for a decade, and they all longed to play for an audience.

And the music took them in...

[Elemental]

Spoiler

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“Very well then. I will carry your offer to the Sentinels of Stone and, whichever of my brethren are deemed worthy to receive your gift, will journey to Arran Viska to receive the honor in person.” Roland nodded his head to Talsharn, “But please, Aranin, call me Roland. While I am flattered that a great man like yourself would refer to me as “Noble Sentinel,” I feel it be better suited for the plaque of a statue, or a carving upon the wall of some great-hall, than to a living man such as I.” He smiled and a gestured at some of the cave decor of past warriors of the Kaon Clan as they walked past.

Karíkí smiled and took his arm, so they were in escort together as they walked. “Perhaps one day a statue shall be made,” she laughed, “We could set it up beside the mountain trail and bid it ‘Long days, oh Noble Sentinel’ every time we pass it up toward the Rosewood Stone.”

“Long days indeed,” Edge chimed in, though he looked less amused by the idea than the younger Shan.

“By the by,” Karíkí said, changing the subject as she turned toward Talshan, “I am pleased that we should have met so easily, for there was a matter we wished t' speak with ye about, Aranin.”

“There has been a growing call fer metals in Shandolýn an’ yer homeland is well reputed fer the fine silver that ye craft with. If Shandolé were to send tradesmen to yer country to try to procure a source of silver, would ye be a’willing t’ lend yer support toward such endeavors? Our people could return the favor, mayhap by helping ye to better fortify yer mines an' trading posts. The Sangar taught our warriors and engineers the same some years back an’ we would lend such skills toward any source we were able to secure in yer country. It would be well to also pass such techniques on so yer own trading posts and centers of resource could also be fortified.”

"You already stand among the heroes of legend Roland," he said in a stirring voice, "You need not wait until death to receive accolades from those of us who have been saved so much hardship by the Sentinels. Though we of the Viskari have little talent with writing or stone carving, rest assured that countless songs memorialise your brethren."

His eyes looked over the carved warriors approvingly, taking note of the skill of the Dannu-Gaon artisans as the Shan made their jokes before he was drawn back into the moment by Ariki's question.

"Our silver you say?" he took off one of his amulets, a silver star inscribed with a curled up wolf, and handed it to Kariki so she could admire it. It was still warm from the heat of the Viskari's body and it was evidently newly made as the points of the star were still sharp enough to risk pricking the Elf's fingers. Should she turn it over she would see that the back was marked with the image of an eye with a line of Kagahara running along each point of the star. What they said was unknown however as the script was being used for the Viskari tongue.

"I don't see any reason why I can't offer you my support in exchange for the knowledge of your craftspeople. I do not control the silver mines myself so I can't guarantee things will go smoothly, but I'm sure my word will convince them eventually. Do your people know how to forge it? If not I can dispatch a few smiths. They can teach you all the proper talismans and symbols so as to avoid offending the Gods, though I'm sure your knowledge of such things is more than sufficient."

Spoiler

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Hiverness

The trio of Nordgen were awed by city at the foot of the Sisters. Awed and humbled, two of them were counted as royalty by their own people and yet their comforts and wealth fell far short of what was being displayed in the land of the River-Smiths so casually. Shysie eased the discomfort of her two companions with a soothing hand on their shoulders. The Oracle was used to the overwhelming force of culture shock by now though the Arrok, with who she spent most of her time abroad, were not so unlike her own people as to leave her feeling a stranger within their lands. Yara turned her head and thanked Shysie for her reassurance with a silent nod of her head, her pale silver eyes shining with gratitude. Chief Rayen's daughter was dressed in a black hood made of wolf fur and clasped by a metallic wolf head brooch. Her dark hair was braided down her back and she wore a circlet carved from mammoth tusk, fashioned with a symbol of the moon in its center. Her older brother, and heir to the Chiefdom of Hiverness, Kosumi, did not acknowledge Shysie's attempt at comfort as he surveyed the foreign city. His darker grey eyes stormed with envy even as he counted these people amongst his allies. His ivory circlet held the crest of Wolfenhall atop his shining black hair, which fell loose to his broad shoulders. A large Northern Husky Dog sat at his feet, watching the bustle with as much intensity as Kosumi did.

Shysie pointed out Talsharn of the Aran Viska to Kosumi and Yara. The trio approached and Kosumi took the lead.

"Honored Talsharn of the Aran Viska, I am Kosumi, son of Rayen and heir to Wolfenhall. My father has tasked me with sending his regrets that he could not be in attendance at your great feast." He had jumped into the conversation with the confidence of youth.

"His brother's wife, my Aunt, took ill and died of the wasting illness. It has been a poor season for wives in Hiverness of late." His face took on a far away look for a moment, as if thinking of somebody in particular.

Talsharn listened patiently as Kosumi made his introduction, allowing the much younger man the chance to speak. He recognised the look in the young man's eyes and without warning pulled him into a strong bear hug for a few moments before letting him go, making sure to distract onlookers from Kosumi's faraway expression by his boisterous display of emotion.

"Tell your most noble father that I grieve for the loss your family has endured," he said with compassion, "I know well such sorrow and I can only hope that your uncle finds comfort in this time of Winter, as I do for all in Hiverness who suffer from the scourge of pestilence."

He took a talisman from around his neck, this one a circle inscribed with a galloping horse and placed it in Kosumi's hand.

"For your uncle."

[Laura]

As the Aranin and the young man from Hiverness exchanged words, the Shaní tried not to be empathically embarrassed by the boisterous displays of public emotion. The bold ways of Viskari manners felt awkward to them, who were used to a culture of more restrained and modest public face.

While M’Áwaní turned to speak with the Scavengers of the Carrion Ward, Karíkí busied herself admiring the silver, avoiding openly staring at the exchange between Talsharn and Kosumi. She was greatly impressed by the silver, especially the finely etched writing, though she could not read what it said.

Once Talsharn wasn’t so focused on Kosumi, Karíkí offered him back the amulet he had handed her to look at. “What they’ve said is true, Aranin. Yer silver an’ the craftsmanship o’ yer smiths is marvelous to behold. I am certain no Shán in Shandolé would begrudge yer smiths a’teaching their methods or traditions o' crafting, should they be so inclined.”

Not wanting to be rude, she then bowed to the three Nordgen and pressed fist to forehead. “Long days and warm nights to ye, Humans o’ Hiverness. I am Karíkí’moshi’makana – Summer’s Hope Lingers, of Shandolýn .”

[PepperP.]

Talsharn listened patiently as Kosumi made his introduction, allowing the much younger man the chance to speak. He recognised the look in the young man's eyes and without warning pulled him into a strong bear hug for a few moments before letting him go, making sure to distract onlookers from Kosumi's faraway expression by his boisterous display of emotion.

"Tell your most noble father that I grieve for the loss your family has endured," he said with compassion, "I know well such sorrow and I can only hope that your uncle finds comfort in this time of Winter, as I do for all in Hiverness who suffer from the scourge of pestilence."

He took a talisman from around his neck, this one a circle inscribed with a galloping horse and placed it in Kosumi's hand.

"For your uncle."

As the Aranin and the young man from Hiverness exchanged words, the Shaní tried not to be empathically embarrassed by the boisterous displays of public emotion. The bold ways of Viskari manners felt awkward to them, who were used to a culture of more restrained and modest public face.

While M’Áwaní turned to speak with the Scavengers of the Carrion Ward, Karíkí busied herself admiring the silver, avoiding openly staring at the exchange between Talsharn and Kosumi. She was greatly impressed by the silver, especially the finely etched writing, though she could not read what it said.

Once Talsharn wasn’t so focused on Kosumi, Karíkí offered him back the amulet he had handed her to look at. “What they’ve said is true, Aranin. Yer silver an’ the craftsmanship o’ yer smiths is marvelous to behold. I am certain no Shán in Shandolé would begrudge yer smiths a’teaching their methods or traditions o' crafting, should they be so inclined.”

Not wanting to be rude, she then bowed to the three Nordgen and pressed fist to forehead. “Long days and warm nights to ye, Humans o’ Hiverness. I am Karíkí’moshi’makana – Summer’s Hope Lingers, of Shandolýn .”

The three Nordgen gasped in unison as the older man pulled the stoic Kosumi into his bear hug. Kosumi was stiff within the Aranin's grasp for a long moment before he relented and allowed himself to take the comfort the other man had offered him so freely. Once released, he stepped back to collect himself, looking down at the silver amulet he held in his hand.

"My Uncle Enli will wear this token with pride, as will his heirs I am certain of it. Wolfenhall will know of the kindness of the Aran Viska in our troubled times, Aranin Talsharn..." His thanks were interrupted by his younger sister throwing herself onto the foreign leader with a bear hug of her own.

"Y...Yara!" Kosumi looked mortified. Shysie joined in and made it a group hug. The Oracle embraced both Talsharn and Yara, giving them a big squeeze. Kosumi scratched his head nervously and glanced away from the spectacle, catching Karíkí staring at the gifted amulet with interest. He held it up for her inspection, thankful for a distraction from his sister.

"May your Paths be well lit, Karíkí’moshi’makana." He bowed his head politely to the elf.

"Summer's Hope Lingers... that's a beautiful name, though I confess to being reluctant to place my hope on anything so fleeting as Summer in these parts." His face fell as he realized how that may have sounded to her.

"Uh...not meaning any offence..." He placed his fist to his forehead and bowed as she had done to show he had meant no offense by his comment, his face taking upon the realization of his inexperience in diplomatic situations.

"I am Kosumi, Heir of Wolfenhall, and this is my sister Yara." He pointed to the younger of the two women currently clutching Talsharn.

[Elemental]

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As the Aranin and the young man from Hiverness exchanged words, the Shaní tried not to be empathically embarrassed by the boisterous displays of public emotion. The bold ways of Viskari manners felt awkward to them, who were used to a culture of more restrained and modest public face.

While M’Áwaní turned to speak with the Scavengers of the Carrion Ward, Karíkí busied herself admiring the silver, avoiding openly staring at the exchange between Talsharn and Kosumi. She was greatly impressed by the silver, especially the finely etched writing, though she could not read what it said.

Once Talsharn wasn’t so focused on Kosumi, Karíkí offered him back the amulet he had handed her to look at. “What they’ve said is true, Aranin. Yer silver an’ the craftsmanship o’ yer smiths is marvelous to behold. I am certain no Shán in Shandolé would begrudge yer smiths a’teaching their methods or traditions o' crafting, should they be so inclined.”

Not wanting to be rude, she then bowed to the three Nordgen and pressed fist to forehead. “Long days and warm nights to ye, Humans o’ Hiverness. I am Karíkí’moshi’makana – Summer’s Hope Lingers, of Shandolýn .”

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The three Nordgen gasped in unison as the older man pulled the stoic Kosumi into his bear hug. Kosumi was stiff within the Aranin's grasp for a long moment before he relented and allowed himself to take the comfort the other man had offered him so freely. Once released, he stepped back to collect himself, looking down at the silver amulet he held in his hand.

"My Uncle Enli will wear this token with pride, as will his heirs I am certain of it. Wolfenhall will know of the kindness of the Aran Viska in our troubled times, Aranin Talsharn..." His thanks were interrupted by his younger sister throwing herself onto the foreign leader with a bear hug of her own.

"Y...Yara!" Kosumi looked mortified. Shysie joined in and made it a group hug. The Oracle embraced both Talsharn and Yara, giving them a big squeeze. Kosumi scratched his head nervously and glanced away from the spectacle, catching Karíkí staring at the gifted amulet with interest. He held it up for her inspection, thankful for a distraction from his sister.

"May your Paths be well lit, Karíkí’moshi’makana." He bowed his head politely to the elf.

"Summer's Hope Lingers... that's a beautiful name, though I confess to being reluctant to place my hope on anything so fleeting as Summer in these parts." His face fell as he realized how that may have sounded to her.

"Uh...not meaning any offence..." He placed his fist to his forehead and bowed as she had done to show he had meant no offense by his comment, his face taking upon the realization of his inexperience in diplomatic situations.

"I am Kosumi, Heir of Wolfenhall, and this is my sister Yara." He pointed to the younger of the two women currently clutching Talsharn.

Now it was Talsharn's turn to be surprised as Yara and the Oracle decided to give him a hug, but it was a pleasant surprise as he returned the hug with a tusky grin.

"How foolish we must look, embracing like long lost siblings!" he said with a deep chuckle, "But I suppose I started it and you have the right to seek redress, fair is fair after all."

It took him a few moments to politely escape the hug whereupon he noticed Kariki was offering to return the star amulet he'd given her. He shook his head firmly. "No, please keep it, I'm sure it will serve you as well. And if your pride will not permit such a token of my esteem, then give it to your artisans such that they may familiarise themselves with the look and feel of silver before my smiths arrive to teach them. I hope you will be prepared to play host to them for many long years, smithing is not an art to picked up in on a Summer's evening."

As he spoke he got down on one knee and proceeded to give the husky pats.

[Tychris1]

"This is my brother, Raced-The-Sun, and his soon to be betrothed Jahoon of the Bloody Hills," Skystruck-Tree gestured to the woman playing her gifted instrument and the crimson vulture that watched on in rapt joy bobbing his head from side to side "In truth my brother has strayed farther than I in these lands and so he escorted me from my venture from the Gray Lake." If she was insulted by the slight tickling of blasphemy the wounded vulture did not show it. "I hope good fortune finds this grandfoal of our long wandering sister, for the strength and fire of youth will always be snuffed by the cold treachery of age." Skystruck-Tree nodded her head solemnly. Glancing over at the conversing delegations though she found a renewed vigor, clicking her tongue surreptitiously, and rolling her neck "Much work indeed, kin, much indeed. But the Carrion Ward is but one strip of Tarandi and we must do our part to spread our truth across the lands. It is the great privilege and burden of our kind to roam wide and see far, a prison of knowledge, and it pulls me painfully forward. Until one blessed day we may sleep evermore."

Jahoon tilted her head at the sight of such public affection and she ceased her playing. Eyes wide she was enthralled by such warmth and threw her hands up to join the mass of affection but felt herself instantly pulled back by the tight beak of Raced-The-Sun around her collar. She sat down with a harumph, arms folded, and looked to Raced-The-Sun with a pout. "Three's Company, my sun and sky." He said warmly but with a hint of condescension, like a parent instructing a child.

[Laura]

"May your Paths be well lit, Karíkí’moshi’makana." He bowed his head politely to the elf.

"Summer's Hope Lingers... that's a beautiful name, though I confess to being reluctant to place my hope on anything so fleeting as Summer in these parts." His face fell as he realized how that may have sounded to her.

"Uh...not meaning any offence..." He placed his fist to his forehead and bowed as she had done to show he had meant no offense by his comment, his face taking upon the realization of his inexperience in diplomatic situations.

"I am Kosumi, Heir of Wolfenhall, and this is my sister Yara." He pointed to the younger of the two women currently clutching Talsharn.

Karíkí smiled to the young man, hoping to put his awkwardness at ease, while still trying to avoid starting at all the hugging and being distracted by that herself.

“Well met, Kosumi’Cai,” she said, “An' I take nary no offense. If'n summer were not fleeting, the name would loose its meaning. The root o’ the name is that fleeting joy can continue t’ carry hope an’ happiness, even once it has past. The memories o’ them we have loved an’ love still - though they be gone, can warm a Ka burdened by sadness, just as reflections upon the joys o’ summers gone can make the winter nights a bit o’ an’ easier burden t’ bare. At least, that is a truth I try to represent in my Ka an’ in my name.”

As she spoke her eyes drifted from Kosumi over to Roland, her human husband, who already appeared to be twice her age, though in truth she was nearly twice his age. The couple almost unconsciously stepped a little closer together. She and Roland were still living their summer days. However, like the turning of leaves signals autumn and winter’s eventual advent, his hair had gone white and his face lined, reminders that time did not pass the same for men and elves.

It took him a few moments to politely escape the hug whereupon he noticed Kariki was offering to return the star amulet he'd given her. He shook his head firmly. "No, please keep it, I'm sure it will serve you as well. And if your pride will not permit such a token of my esteem, then give it to your artisans such that they may familiarise themselves with the look and feel of silver before my smiths arrive to teach them. I hope you will be prepared to play host to them for many long years, smithing is not an art to picked up in on a Summer's evening."

“My pride h’aint nary so fragile as that, Aranin’Siah,” Karíkí said, “An’ I expect any o’ the Duel-Blooded who venture into our valley will soon learn the patient nature o’ the shani an’ our deliberation fer perfection an’ learning an art to its fullest extent, regardless o’ how long that might take.”

“Roland made the mistake of offering lessons to M’Áwaní’Dóah here,” she nodded over to M’Áwaní, who was engaged in conversation with Skystruck-Tree, “An’ twelve years later he still can’t get be rid o’ his pupil.”

Roland laughed. “I’d drive him off with a sword, but by now he’s better than I am. I tell him so, but he keeps coming to the Stone for practice. I think he just likes showing off to an old man at this point.”

—

"This is my brother, Raced-The-Sun, and his soon to be betrothed Jahoon of the Bloody Hills," Skystruck-Tree gestured to the woman playing her gifted instrument and the crimson vulture that watched on in rapt joy bobbing his head from side to side "In truth my brother has strayed farther than I in these lands and so he escorted me from my venture from the Gray Lake." If she was insulted by the slight tickling of blasphemy the wounded vulture did not show it. "I hope good fortune finds this grandfoal of our long wandering sister, for the strength and fire of youth will always be snuffed by the cold treachery of age." Skystruck-Tree nodded her head solemnly. Glancing over at the conversing delegations though she found a renewed vigor, clicking her tongue surreptitiously, and rolling her neck "Much work indeed, kin, much indeed. But the Carrion Ward is but one strip of Tarandi and we must do our part to spread our truth across the lands. It is the great privilege and burden of our kind to roam wide and see far, a prison of knowledge, and it pulls me painfully forward. Until one blessed day we may sleep evermore."

“Time stretches far yonder an' wider even than all of Tarandi, Wise One,” M’Áwaní said, “An’ truth shall never run short, nor dissolve away. If ye find yourself so imprisoned, it is a prison o’ yer own making I kin. I mean no offense, but would advise ye to also live yer life amidst yer crusade, Sister, an’ cherish yer family an’ what joys they find an’ bring before yer eyes while ye may.”

He patted the head of is hound, North Winds, then glances over at Jahoon and Raced-The-Sun. “Yer brother an’ Jahoon’Cai make a strange couple, cry yer pardon fer saying so, but seem happy in each other's company. I hope all is well an’ pleasing fer the families involved?”

[LapisCattis]

Centuries upon centuries, if not more, had passed since any record of the Arrok wrote of the Chief and his delegation leaving Uldra for any reason other than war. Through trade and missives sent between holy folk and merchants, the Arrok had found a kindred spirit in the River-smiths, and Taran looked forward to meeting a burgeoning ally. His party was small, himself, Oracle Neyrna, Elder Nyoka (who could not be convinced to stay in Uldra, regrettably for his sanity), four hunters, and Rarras. The giant husky, twice the size of the largest husky dog known to the Arrok or the Nordgen, had been at an icy impasse with the Elder for the entire trip and the other members of the delegation were quite looking forward to drowning the awkwardness in whatever fermented beverages the Dannu-Gaon could provide. The Council, efforts headed by Elders Nyoka and Suru, had tried to force the paragon to stay in Uldra, uncertain of how his presence would react if and when the Creatures of the Ancient Ways arrived, but none were able to stop a being that Eauden herself had created out of the concentrated remains, strength, and willpower of the dogs slain eight years prior.

Upon entering the dwelling, a gesture from Taran had the four hunters split up and make lazy meandering walks around the cavern home, while Elder Nyoka went straight for Skystruck-Tree.

"It is an honor to finally meet you, Skystruck-Tree. I have heard so much about you and your wisdom. It is such an enlightening experience to gaze upon one such as you."

Chief Taran and Neyrna went to greet their Nordgen friends, finding them just as the group hug ended. That did not prevent Neyrna from swooping in, wide smile, to hug and twirl Oracle Shysie around. "Shysie! How good it is to see you here!" Neyrna kissed both of Shysie's cheeks before continuing. "You should come back with us to Uldra! Shira is being trained on the bow now and she hit her first bear-eye in only two months! She keeps asking me when you're going to come stay with us again."

Taran's greeting came more formally, more fitting of the grey hairs that started to appear in his beard and hair. "A long river finds us well met, Aranin Talsharn. I pray that you and your people have prospered in the years since we last met."

He turned to the faces new to him, "Karíkí’moshi’makana and Roland, was it? I am Chief Taran of the Arrok. It is a great pleasure to meet you. I hope we can continue the traditions of goodwill between our peoples."

His gaze softened as he looked to Rayen's children. "Yara, Kosumi, my deepest condolences for the loss of your Aunt. Your first mission to represent your people should've been made in happier circumstances, but I know you make your father and your people proud. Nordgen needs only to ask for aid and Uldra will answer to the best of our abilities. In fact, in the interest of creating closer bonds between our people, I wanted to discuss the potential of an exchange program of sorts, when you have time."

Rarras, for his part, was padding between chambers, silently taking in the reliefs and artwork. His only acknowledgement of the other visitors was to bare his teeth when Raced-The-Sun's gaze briefly met his when the bird pulled his intended back.

[PepperP.]

Now it was Talsharn's turn to be surprised as Yara and the Oracle decided to give him a hug, but it was a pleasant surprise as he returned the hug with a tusky grin.

"How foolish we must look, embracing like long lost siblings!" he said with a deep chuckle, "But I suppose I started it and you have the right to seek redress, fair is fair after all."

It took him a few moments to politely escape the hug whereupon he noticed Kariki was offering to return the star amulet he'd given her. He shook his head firmly. "No, please keep it, I'm sure it will serve you as well. And if your pride will not permit such a token of my esteem, then give it to your artisans such that they may familiarise themselves with the look and feel of silver before my smiths arrive to teach them. I hope you will be prepared to play host to them for many long years, smithing is not an art to picked up in on a Summer's evening."

As he spoke he got down on one knee and proceeded to give the husky pats.

Karíkí smiled to the young man, hoping to put his awkwardness at ease, while still trying to avoid starting at all the hugging and being distracted by that herself.

“Well met, Kosumi’Cai,” she said, “An' I take nary no offense. If'n summer were not fleeting, the name would loose its meaning. The root o’ the name is that fleeting joy can continue t’ carry hope an’ happiness, even once it has past. The memories o’ them we have loved an’ love still - though they be gone, can warm a Ka burdened by sadness, just as reflections upon the joys o’ summers gone can make the winter nights a bit o’ an’ easier burden t’ bare. At least, that is a truth I try to represent in my Ka an’ in my name.”

As she spoke her eyes drifted from Kosumi over to Roland, her human husband, who already appeared to be twice her age, though in truth she was nearly twice his age. The couple almost unconsciously stepped a little closer together. She and Roland were still living their summer days. However, like the turning of leaves signals autumn and winter’s eventual advent, his hair had gone white and his face lined, reminders that time did not pass the same for men and elves.

Kosumi's eyes followed Karíkí's as they drew closer together, signaling their status as a couple.

"I think I understand..." The young man was still inexperienced with romance, but had been warmed by the loving memories of his mother on more than one cold winter night. His eyes turned to the big orcish Aranin lavishing attention on his Husky and a genuine smile lit his features.

"His name is Alo!" Yara offered helpfully. Alo looked up at Yara at the mention of his name and wagged his tail happily at the attention. Yara looked askance at Kosumi who nodded at her.

"We brought his latest litter if you'd like to take your pick, Aranin Talsharn." Yara offered excitedly.

"You'd also be welcome to see if any of the pups would like to make a home with you, Karíkí’moshi’makana, if you wish." He nodded his head at Karíkí and Roland respectfully as he made the offer.

---

Chief Taran and Neyrna went to greet their Nordgen friends, finding them just as the group hug ended. That did not prevent Neyrna from swooping in, wide smile, to hug and twirl Oracle Shysie around. "Shysie! How good it is to see you here!" Neyrna kissed both of Shysie's cheeks before continuing. "You should come back with us to Uldra! Shira is being trained on the bow now and she hit her first bear-eye in only two months! She keeps asking me when you're going to come stay with us again."

Taran's greeting came more formally, more fitting of the grey hairs that started to appear in his beard and hair. "A long river finds us well met, Aranin Talsharn. I pray that you and your people have prospered in the years since we last met."

He turned to the faces new to him, "Karíkí’moshi’makana and Roland, was it? I am Chief Taran of the Arrok. It is a great pleasure to meet you. I hope we can continue the traditions of goodwill between our peoples."

His gaze softened as he looked to Rayen's children. "Yara, Kosumi, my deepest condolences for the loss of your Aunt. Your first mission to represent your people should've been made in happier circumstances, but I know you make your father and your people proud. Nordgen needs only to ask for aid and Uldra will answer to the best of our abilities. In fact, in the interest of creating closer bonds between our people, I wanted to discuss the potential of an exchange program of sorts, when you have time."

"Neyrna!" Shysie blushed at the sudden appearance of her fellow Oracle. She made some attempt to maintain a casual air as she reached for Neyrna's hand.

"Perfect timing! Of course I'll come back to Uldra with you, I've been dying to see Shira, I'm sure she's grown a lot since I saw her last." Shysie chirped at Neyrna happily as Kosumi greeted the Uldra Chieftain.

"Thank you for your condolences and offers of aid, Chief Taran. I suspect this is only the first of many missions I'll be making on behalf of my Father." He smiled ruefully. The aging Rayen had grown comfortable in Wolfenhall, and now that he had a grieving brother to bond with over the loss of their wives, there was no telling when he'd be persuaded to leave Hiverness next.

"Exchange program? I would hear more of this once we have the matter of the welps sorted." He looked askance at Talsharn and Karíkí.

"Oh go ahead!" Yara shooed her brother off.

"I can handle passing out puppies, Kosumi." Yara tossed her head importantly and not for the first time, Kosumi wished he had inherited his little sister's naturally outgoing nature.

"Right, shall we?" Kosumi gestured to Taran to lead the way.

[Elemental]

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“My pride h’aint nary so fragile as that, Aranin’Siah,” Karíkí said, “An’ I expect any o’ the Duel-Blooded who venture into our valley will soon learn the patient nature o’ the shani an’ our deliberation fer perfection an’ learning an art to its fullest extent, regardless o’ how long that might take.”

“Roland made the mistake of offering lessons to M’Áwaní’Dóah here,” she nodded over to M’Áwaní, who was engaged in conversation with Skystruck-Tree, “An’ twelve years later he still can’t get be rid o’ his pupil.”

Roland laughed. “I’d drive him off with a sword, but by now he’s better than I am. I tell him so, but he keeps coming to the Stone for practice. I think he just likes showing off to an old man at this point.”

"Learning patience is always the first step of learning anything so I've no doubt they will exceed their teachers' expectations in no time," he replied, "I look forward to seeing what they create, though if it takes twelve years I hope you'll forgive me if I don't hold my breath! As for your problem Noble Roland, my suggestion would be to saddle him with the task of teaching others, that way he'll be too busy to get lessons from you, at least until he realises he needs lessons in how to teach."

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Taran's greeting came more formally, more fitting of the grey hairs that started to appear in his beard and hair. "A long river finds us well met, Aranin Talsharn. I pray that you and your people have prospered in the years since we last met."

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Kosumi's eyes followed Karíkí's as they drew closer together, signaling their status as a couple.

"I think I understand..." The young man was still inexperienced with romance, but had been warmed by the loving memories of his mother on more than one cold winter night. His eyes turned to the big orcish Aranin lavishing attention on his Husky and a genuine smile lit his features.

"His name is Alo!" Yara offered helpfully. Alo looked up at Yara at the mention of his name and wagged his tail happily at the attention. Yara looked askance at Kosumi who nodded at her.

"We brought his latest litter if you'd like to take your pick, Aranin Talsharn." Yara offered excitedly.

"You'd also be welcome to see if any of the pups would like to make a home with you, Karíkí’moshi’makana, if you wish." He nodded his head at Karíkí and Roland respectfully as he made the offer.

The Aranin's expression cooled somewhat at Taran's greeting, but he chose to let bygones be bygones. For now. After all, Taran hadn't been Chief then and was likely inconvenienced just as much by Tsor's decision. He remained down on one knee, still running his hands through the husky's fur.

"Ah Taran, I remember you. I hear you have become Chief since Tsor's fall from grace. My people have prospered well these past years, though I will be the first to confess that things are much as they have been this past decade, only that everyone I know has become older."

His attention was immediately taken back to the husky which he grinned at.

"Hello Alo, it's nice to meet you, I'm Talsharn," he said as though greeting an equal before he looked up at Yara, his grin no longer present, "I'm afraid I must decline your offer. Our journey back to Aran Viska is potentially treacherous and we must ride fast with no means of carrying such a precious burden safely."

[Tychris1]

Spoiler: The River Elves

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“Time stretches far yonder an' wider even than all of Tarandi, Wise One,”

Spoiler: The River Elves

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M’Áwaní said, “An’ truth shall never run short, nor dissolve away. If ye find yourself so imprisoned, it is a prison o’ yer own making I kin. I mean no offense, but would advise ye to also live yer life amidst yer crusade, Sister, an’ cherish yer family an’ what joys they find an’ bring before yer eyes while ye may.”

He patted the head of is hound, North Winds, then glances over at Jahoon and Raced-The-Sun. “Yer brother an’ Jahoon’Cai make a strange couple, cry yer pardon fer saying so, but seem happy in each other's company. I hope all is well an’ pleasing fer the families involved?”

"I thought you Elven folk to be long lived and long remembered. I brought my own son with me when first we met, for I wish to hold kindred bonds wherever I go," She nodded her head towards her brother, eliciting a jovial mocking reaction from him "For better or worse. We all make our own restraints, to help us focus on what matters most."

Jahoon began to stroke Raced-The-Sun's head "My father is.... uneducated on the matters of the world. He does not grasp our love of many lives. But he is a small, old man, and soon I will be Chieftess." The crimson vulture leveled a steely gaze at Skystruck-Tree "And my sister thinks herself a local. Time is a river and she a River Smith with her words, pushing our completed Bonding Ceremony to the future instead of the past."

Skystruck-Tree scowled but said nothing on the matter.

Spoiler: The Arrok of Uldra

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Centuries upon centuries, if not more, had passed since any record of the Arrok wrote of the Chief and his delegation leaving Uldra for any reason other than war. Through trade and missives sent between holy folk and merchants, the Arrok had found a kindred spirit in the River-smiths, and Taran looked forward to meeting a burgeoning ally. His party was small, himself, Oracle Neyrna, Elder Nyoka (who could not be convinced to stay in Uldra, regrettably for his sanity), four hunters, and Rarras. The giant husky, twice the size of the largest husky dog known to the Arrok or the Nordgen, had been at an icy impasse with the Elder for the entire trip and the other members of the delegation were quite looking forward to drowning the awkwardness in whatever fermented beverages the Dannu-Gaon could provide. The Council, efforts headed by Elders Nyoka and Suru, had tried to force the paragon to stay in Uldra, uncertain of how his presence would react if and when the Creatures of the Ancient Ways arrived, but none were able to stop a being that Eauden herself had created out of the concentrated remains, strength, and willpower of the dogs slain eight years prior.

Upon entering the dwelling, a gesture from Taran had the four hunters split up and make lazy meandering walks around the cavern home, while Elder Nyoka went straight for Skystruck-Tree.

"It is an honor to finally meet you, Skystruck-Tree. I have heard so much about you and your wisdom. It is such an enlightening experience to gaze upon one such as you."

Rarras, for his part, was padding between chambers, silently taking in the reliefs and artwork. His only acknowledgement of the other visitors was to bare his teeth when Raced-The-Sun's gaze briefly met his when the bird pulled his intended back.

Skystruck-Tree seemed almost pleased to have a distraction from her brother's fanciful and ridiculous spiritual antics. She kept her head lowered, at first for what could be mistaken as a bow, and in short order seemed more akin to scanning the Elder's feet for something. Bending her neck to look up eye to eye she swept a wing in front of herself as a sign of greeting.

"You speak too kindly, stranger. We are all enlightened with each passing life and I but a simple passenger. May we one day be free from the trappings of this broken world. This is far to travel for one as wizened as you, take a seat, one old bird to another, and tell me what wind floats you here." She closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side in appreciation of the strange human.

Raced-The-Sun, for his part, simply scooted closer to his Bondmate, and tried to avoid looking at the Smaller Monochromatic Lion moving about. "I think their sight is based on movement, try not to shift around too much." He muttered to Jahoon who frowned her lips and made a queer expression of confusion but shrugged in compliance.

With the music now quelled the trio of Rats cleaned themselves off and worked their way towards the next most fascinating sound. A yapping heavily breathing dog. Gathered round the oldest amongst them walked right in between Yara's feet to see the source of this noise and looked on in wonder of the strange Hyena-like creature. "Never seen anything like this before. But it's got a good rhythm." The lead rodent stated before the other two cupped their paws around their mouths to provide further vocal percussion riffing off the Huskies breathing and their elder began to sway and dance once more.

[Tentreto]

While Prenadi kept her vigil, Jia carefully took her look around they room. While her official purpose here was to serve her Kinsman, she could interpret that however she wanted.

At a opportune moment, while they were otherwise unengaged, she carefully approached the elves, in all their tatoos. She had never seen the true point of these marks, but she supposed that they were simple marks of the flesh, and not true decadence. Moreover, the elves had been good friends, sending over a few horses, albeit so few were able to ride them.

She approached M'Awani from the front, and with a smile. "Greetings again noble leader. It has been a while since we last met. I am Jia of Sangar, and I must offer thanks for what you have sent us these last seasons."

[Laura]

He turned to the faces new to him, "Karíkí’moshi’makana and Roland, was it? I am Chief Taran of the Arrok. It is a great pleasure to meet you. I hope we can continue the traditions of goodwill between our peoples."

Karíkí’ nodded, “Swanny Siah, it would be well indeed. I have heard yer name an’ M'Awani’Doah an’ Leosha’Lyndonah both spoke well of yer peoples’ hospitality at Southrocks some few years back. Pray’’ye feel welcome to speak o’ visit with us, o any of our delegation during this sojourn to the lands o’ the River Smiths. Shandolé will welcome the opportunity fer further cooperation an’ goodwill.”

Roland bowed and nodded to the Arrok, but remained silent. As he was technically a representative of the Sentinels of Stone and not Shandolé, he did not wasn’t to draw too much attention to himself.

"You'd also be welcome to see if any of the pups would like to make a home with you, Karíkí’moshi’makana, if you wish." He nodded his head at Karíkí and Roland respectfully as he made the offer.

“The noble blood o’ the northern huskies is renowned though all Tarandi,” Karíkí’ said, “We would be honored by such a gift. However, I kin it might be better fer M'Awani to select a pup, as he is the most experiences among us in raising an’ training dogs an’ his own hound, North Wind,” she motioned to the silver hound, who’d been sitting near M'Awani’s feet, “Has some husky lineage, thanks to his grandmother’s forays at Southrocks.” The shan hound so far had remained quiet and inconspicuous, though the appearance of Rarras had clearly spooked him. His ears were pricked and there was tension in his supple muscles, as his husky blue eyes tried to track the monster dog’s movements.

"As for your problem Noble Roland, my suggestion would be to saddle him with the task of teaching others, that way he'll be too busy to get lessons from you, at least until he realises he needs lessons in how to teach."

“Wise advise Aranin,” Roland said, “I shall keep that in mind. Unfortunately, metal and especially swords of any kind of quality are exceedingly rare in the Valley of the River Elves. I could barely manage to procure one for Edge, uh cry pardon, for M’Áwaní’Dóah’Siah.”

"I thought you Elven folk to be long lived and long remembered. I brought my own son with me when first we met, for I wish to hold kindred bonds wherever I go," She nodded her head towards her brother, eliciting a jovial mocking reaction from him "For better or worse. We all make our own restraints, to help us focus on what matters most."

Jahoon began to stroke Raced-The-Sun's head "My father is.... uneducated on the matters of the world. He does not grasp our love of many lives. But he is a small, old man, and soon I will be Chieftess." The crimson vulture leveled a steely gaze at Skystruck-Tree "And my sister thinks herself a local. Time is a river and she a River Smith with her words, pushing our completed Bonding Ceremony to the future instead of the past."

Skystruck-Tree scowled but said nothing on the matter.

Edge cast eyes between the three of them, reading their expressions, but only nodded and said, “The future will become the present by n’ by. May it also bring ye wisdom an’ joy. An’ may Simrah carry ye in wellness Ka by Ka in this life an’ all yer lives t’ come.” He then turned as the Jia approached.

She approached M'Awani from the front, and with a smile. "Greetings again noble leader. It has been a while since we last met. I am Jia of Sangar, and I must offer thanks for what you have sent us these last seasons."

He bowed and pressed fist to forehead, “I remember ye well Jia’Cai. It is good t’ see ye again. Yer song flows strong an’ may it continue to brighten the world around ye for many more summers to come. Yer gratitude is appreciated, though I must confess that I kin the engineers an’ the craft of masonry an all the wisdom o’ song an’ structures yer people have brought to our lands has more than doubly repaid us fer the horses an’ dogs we gave into yer care. Shandolé is grateful an’ I hope the friendship an’ shared wisdom between out peoples continues to grown an’ blossom.”

[PepperP.]

[COLOR="#008000"]

The Aranin's expression cooled somewhat at Taran's greeting, but he chose to let bygones be bygones. For now. After all, Taran hadn't been Chief then and was likely inconvenienced just as much by Tsor's decision. He remained down on one knee, still running his hands through the husky's fur.

"Ah Taran, I remember you. I hear you have become Chief since Tsor's fall from grace. My people have prospered well these past years, though I will be the first to confess that things are much as they have been this past decade, only that everyone I know has become older."

His attention was immediately taken back to the husky which he grinned at.

"Hello Alo, it's nice to meet you, I'm Talsharn," he said as though greeting an equal before he looked up at Yara, his grin no longer present, "I'm afraid I must decline your offer. Our journey back to Aran Viska is potentially treacherous and we must ride fast with no means of carrying such a precious burden safely."

"I understand. You concern for our Husky's well-being is admirable Aranin, even if my own concern for your trip back has grown considerably to hear of it. I would not doubt your Warrior's prowess, please don't take me wrong." She put up her hands as if in offering. Perhaps Shysie could offer you a prayer for safe travels before you left?" Yara looked back to Shysie who was currently occupied by staring at Neyrna.

"Hmm?" Shysie looked like she'd been disturbed from a deep thought.

"Oh yes, of course! I'll see to it that your delegation is well blessed before you depart, Aranin. It would be my honor." Shysie offered her services to Talsharn warmly.

---

“The noble blood o’ the northern huskies is renowned though all Tarandi,” Karíkí’ said, “We would be honored by such a gift. However, I kin it might be better fer M'Awani to select a pup, as he is the most experiences among us in raising an’ training dogs an’ his own hound, North Wind,” she motioned to the silver hound, who’d been sitting near M'Awani’s feet, “Has some husky lineage, thanks to his grandmother’s forays at Southrocks.” The shan hound so far had remained quiet and inconspicuous, though the appearance of Rarras had clearly spooked him. His ears were pricked and there was tension in his supple muscles, as his husky blue eyes tried to track the monster dog’s movements.

"Well met, M'Awani, North Wind." Yara greeted the pair politely.

"If you'd like to follow me, I can show you to the pups? They're back in our quarters nice and cozy." Yara smiled reassuringly at Night Wind, being familiar with dogs, she could sense his unease.

---

[B]

With the music now quelled the trio of Rats cleaned themselves off and worked their way towards the next most fascinating sound. A yapping heavily breathing dog. Gathered round the oldest amongst them walked right in between Yara's feet to see the source of this noise and looked on in wonder of the strange Hyena-like creature. "Never seen anything like this before. But it's got a good rhythm." The lead rodent stated before the other two cupped their paws around their mouths to provide further vocal percussion riffing off the Huskies breathing and their elder began to sway and dance once more.

Yara bent over to follow the strange rat's path through her legs and around Alo. She gasped as they opened their mouth and squeaked understandably. The rat then proceeded to make a sort of rhythmic music with their mouth and Yara gaped at them in open-mouthed wonder.

"How... are you doing that?" She blurted, though whether "that" referred to the speaking, the music, or the dancing was unclear.

[BladeofObliviom]

The ongoing discussions were interrupted by the opening of an easily-missed passage, hidden behind a reindeer pelt draped upon the wall for apparent decorative purposes, and the entry of a figure recognizable to some - Kas-Mak, sans mask, wearing light hides and long hair visibly wet. "The Nocter and Noctrix are ready for you now," he spoke haltingly in a trade tongue he had yet to fully master. "If you would follow this way. At your leisure, not all at once."

The path behind the pelt was narrower and darker than the main corridors, going down rough-hewn stairs with the faintest muggy warmth inside, illuminated by a cthonic glow from beyond the base. "Mind your step.", Kas commanded as he led the way. At the bottom Kas threw open a second pair of pelts, greeting all behind him with a wave of heat and humidity as the way opened into an open cavern with a half-dozen bubbling springs, the torches at the corners of the room where the steam collected least only contributing to the sweltering heat. Flaxen cloths were folded in a pile to one side, seemingly free for use, though two were already in use resting over the shoulders of the two figures seated naked next to one another in the largest of the pools.

"Greetings.", spoke the Nocter Irin-Mak aloud, a strong-jawed man with a light beard and a simple circlet of twigs and owl feathers atop his head. The woman at his side, no doubt the Noctrix Sere-Mak, bore an uncanny family resemblance to her brother Kas, but with softer features and a well-kept waterfall of raven hair pinned up using a decoration of some animal's bone. In contrast to the Nocter's smile and invitation, there was a certain sharpness to her gaze, calculating. Perhaps she was simply less familiar with dealing with outsiders. "We welcome you to Danneta-Yvaon. Please, feel free to join us. The water is most pleasing to the flesh." The heat was sweltering, but they didn't seem to mind much. "We hope you were not made to wait long. It is rare indeed for outsiders to be granted access to a clanhome, much less its bathhouse, but it is the traditional place for relaxed discussion. No-Clanhome is a rare opportunity to do so on truly neutral ground."

Kas, as if acknowledging his role was complete, slinked off to the side of the room, leaning up against the wall. Merely observing.

[LapisCattis]

"Learning patience is always the first step of learning anything so I've no doubt they will exceed their teachers' expectations in no time," he replied, "I look forward to seeing what they create, though if it takes twelve years I hope you'll forgive me if I don't hold my breath! As for your problem Noble Roland, my suggestion would be to saddle him with the task of teaching others, that way he'll be too busy to get lessons from you, at least until he realises he needs lessons in how to teach."






The Aranin's expression cooled somewhat at Taran's greeting, but he chose to let bygones be bygones. For now. After all, Taran hadn't been Chief then and was likely inconvenienced just as much by Tsor's decision. He remained down on one knee, still running his hands through the husky's fur.

"Ah Taran, I remember you. I hear you have become Chief since Tsor's fall from grace. My people have prospered well these past years, though I will be the first to confess that things are much as they have been this past decade, only that everyone I know has become older."

His attention was immediately taken back to the husky which he grinned at.

"Hello Alo, it's nice to meet you, I'm Talsharn," he said as though greeting an equal before he looked up at Yara, his grin no longer present, "I'm afraid I must decline your offer. Our journey back to Aran Viska is potentially treacherous and we must ride fast with no means of carrying such a precious burden safely."

Taran smiled, a contortion of muscles that would seem normal and full of mirth if it had reached his eyes. “Oh, falls from grace can be quite deceptive. Sometimes they fall farther or shorter than they appear.”

Upon the pups’ appearance, Rarras’ ears pricked and the chill that was felt around him seemed to turn even more frigid as he joined the others in admiring the little dogs. Ice-blue eyes stared at the Aranin, and he spoke in a voice that gave the sound of ice scraping over itself in a deep lake.
“You are wise to consider the lives of a gift over what that gift could do for you. If only others shared your wisdom.”

"Thank you for your condolences and offers of aid, Chief Taran. I suspect this is only the first of many missions I'll be making on behalf of my Father." He smiled ruefully. The aging Rayen had grown comfortable in Wolfenhall, and now that he had a grieving brother to bond with over the loss of their wives, there was no telling when he'd be persuaded to leave Hiverness next.

"Exchange program? I would hear more of this once we have the matter of the welps sorted." He looked askance at Talsharn and Karíkí.

"Oh go ahead!" Yara shooed her brother off.

"I can handle passing out puppies, Kosumi." Yara tossed her head importantly and not for the first time, Kosumi wished he had inherited his little sister's naturally outgoing nature.

"Right, shall we?" Kosumi gestured to Taran to lead the way.

“Your father is lucky to have you and your sister at his side.” Taran guided the young man away from the rest of the crowd. “I know the Arrok are…uncommon in the North, as normally alliances are forged in the blood and waters of birth, and our customs do not typically follow the standard monogamy of ‘marriage.’ Nevertheless, I do wish that our peoples grew closer. The discovery of the other peoples and the…incidents at Southrocks eight years ago have split the Arrok into factions that grow ever more confused and tumultuous.”

Taran gave a wry smile to disguise the anger in his eyes. “And Hiverness is, shall we say, more cultured and adept at reaching diplomatic solutions with others than we of Uldra. The exchange program in my mind would expand upon our existing trade and training relationships and send children and young adults between us to train and learn more of Arrok, Nordgen, and the other peoples in the north in a…controlled environment, with more studying and less snow-throwing when someone doesn’t agree. Would Hiverness be interested in such an endeavor?”

[B]Skystruck-Tree seemed almost pleased to have a distraction from her brother's fanciful and ridiculous spiritual antics. She kept her head lowered, at first for what could be mistaken as a bow, and in short order seemed more akin to scanning the Elder's feet for something. Bending her neck to look up eye to eye she swept a wing in front of herself as a sign of greeting.

"You speak too kindly, stranger. We are all enlightened with each passing life and I but a simple passenger. May we one day be free from the trappings of this broken world. This is far to travel for one as wizened as you, take a seat, one old bird to another, and tell me what wind floats you here." She closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side in appreciation of the strange human.

Elder Nyoka preened at the offer and sat with some difficulty.
“Years ago, I saw off Chief Tsor and her party as they left for Southrocks. When they returned, we could scarcely believe our ears at what they had seen. Animals that talked, negotiated, and lived by their own laws and rules? Even in Eauden’s light only prayers of such had ever been made, and never answered except by ‘it is impossible.’ Some few of us thought it an amazing opportunity, your offer, to send our lifelong partners to your sacred lake and return with the ability to actually share their intelligence with us. Imagine the possibilities of how much more useful a single hunting party could be, with every single living creature able to talk, plan, and participate equally. The dogs would be an incredibly valuable tool, more so than they are now!”

Her eyes fell and lips pursed, not noticing the effects that heralding the dogs as a tool might cause on Skystruck-Tree.

“And then the Chief in her folly put all the returning animals to death for treason. Such a waste of an animal.”

Hopeful eyes turned to the elderly vulture, and her hands reached out to clutch a talon in an entreating gesture.

“Taran is a more passive Chief and I knew if I could sway the Council into letting me attend this gathering, I might be able to meet one of your kind. Tell me, how do I convince the last of the others and sway Taran to believing that restricting such valuable tools is foolishness?”

"Greetings.", spoke the Nocter Irin-Mak aloud, a strong-jawed man with a light beard and a simple circlet of twigs and owl feathers atop his head. The woman at his side, no doubt the Noctrix Sere-Mak, bore an uncanny family resemblance to her brother Kas, but with softer features and a well-kept waterfall of raven hair pinned up using a decoration of some animal's bone. In contrast to the Nocter's smile and invitation, there was a certain sharpness to her gaze, calculating. Perhaps she was simply less familiar with dealing with outsiders. "We welcome you to Danneta-Yvaon. Please, feel free to join us. The water is most pleasing to the flesh." The heat was sweltering, but they didn't seem to mind much. "We hope you were not made to wait long. It is rare indeed for outsiders to be granted access to a clanhome, much less its bathhouse, but it is the traditional place for relaxed discussion. No-Clanhome is a rare opportunity to do so on truly neutral ground."

Kas, as if acknowledging his role was complete, slinked off to the side of the room, leaning up against the wall. Merely observing.

All but Elder Nyoka and two of the Arrok hunters had followed into the bathhouse, and the Arrok looked upon the hot baths in expressions ranging from heartfelt relief to ecstatic excitement. Rarras’ fur quickly began to droop as water condensed, and he looked at Kas for a moment before joining, laying on his side to observe.

Chief Taran gave the traditional Arrok salute and bowed his head. “It is an honor to meet you and be allowed into No-Clanhome, Nocter and Noctrix.”

The Arrok delegation quickly undressed, a certain Oracle lingering on the removal of some clothing as she accidentally peaked glances at her counterpart, folded their clothes to place near Rarras for the indignant dog to guard, and entered the pool. Small sighs of contentment escaped as sore muscles were massaged and the heat seeped into their bones.

Neyrna looked to the Nocter and Noctrix. “I must ask, how is this bathhouse heated so wonderfully? Is it a natural hot spring?”

[Laura]

"Well met, M'Awani, North Wind." Yara greeted the pair politely.

"If you'd like to follow me, I can show you to the pups? They're back in our quarters nice and cozy." Yara smiled reassuringly at Night Wind, being familiar with dogs, she could sense his unease.

Edge nodded to Yara, “I would be pleased to go with yeh to view the puppies,” he said. “Would it make ‘em nervous if North Wind accompanied me? He is well trained and no threat, but if the puppies mother is still with ‘em, I kin dogs are not always pleased to have their heavens invaded by other dogs, especially when they are nursing young.”

[Elemental]

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“Wise advise Aranin,” Roland said, “I shall keep that in mind. Unfortunately, metal and especially swords of any kind of quality are exceedingly rare in the Valley of the River Elves. I could barely manage to procure one for Edge, uh cry pardon, for M’Áwaní’Dóah’Siah.”[/COLOR]

"There's more to being a warrior than swinging a sword, I've no doubt you've passed on much more than how to thrust and parry," he replied, "Besides, I find it best to practice with wooden weapons. The worst you can get from them is a splinter."

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"I understand. You concern for our Husky's well-being is admirable Aranin, even if my own concern for your trip back has grown considerably to hear of it. I would not doubt your Warrior's prowess, please don't take me wrong." She put up her hands as if in offering. Perhaps Shysie could offer you a prayer for safe travels before you left?" Yara looked back to Shysie who was currently occupied by staring at Neyrna.

"Hmm?" Shysie looked like she'd been disturbed from a deep thought.

"Oh yes, of course! I'll see to it that your delegation is well blessed before you depart, Aranin. It would be my honor." Shysie offered her services to Talsharn warmly.

The Viskari gave Alo one last head scritch before he stood back up to his full height of seven feet.

"Do not worry, I brought far more than two warriors with me," he said warmly to Yara before giving Shysie a slightly awkward nod, "And thank you Most Holy Oracle, your kindness is very much appreciated. If circumstances permitted it I would invite you to ride back north with us, the Most Holy Mashana, Aranin Sarak of Aer Caladon would have dearly loved to meet with you.."

He bowed deeply to the Oracle before his attention was drawn back to his confusion over events in Uldra.

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Taran smiled, a contortion of muscles that would seem normal and full of mirth if it had reached his eyes. “Oh, falls from grace can be quite deceptive. Sometimes they fall farther or shorter than they appear.”

Upon the pups’ appearance, Rarras’ ears pricked and the chill that was felt around him seemed to turn even more frigid as he joined the others in admiring the little dogs. Ice-blue eyes stared at the Aranin, and he spoke in a voice that gave the sound of ice scraping over itself in a deep lake.
“You are wise to consider the lives of a gift over what that gift could do for you. If only others shared your wisdom.”

"They are even more deceptive when viewed solely through what little news makes its way from your lands. I know only that Tsor had some of the beasts of the Ancient Way slaughtered," he replied, scratching his chin as he sought to remember the crazy rumours in full, "Apparently for treason? But how could foreign beasts not beholden to your people betray them? The story was clearly embellished by the time it reached Anviskad."

Talsharn felt Rarras approach as much as he saw him. The chill on the air was almost familiar, but he couldn't place it. He met the beast's icy gaze and recoiled at the sound of its unsettling voice. He knew not what he saw, but there was an air of familiarity about it that he could not deny. One hand went to his belt where a silver dagger was sheathed and he raised the other to trace a few symbols in the air as he uttered a quick phrase in the Viskari tongue. He knew not what he beheld, but it carried with it the unmistakable aura of death and calamity. Eventually he closed his deep red eyes and took a few breaths to force himself to relax before reopening his eyes, it was just a large dog, nothing more or less. It was just a sudden draft. It was no more demonic than that Dread Lion.

"Forgive me, you reminded me of something and I overreacted."




A Bit Later On, Down at the Hot Springs:

Talsharn was pleasantly surprised by the hotsprings, such things were quite rare in Aran Viska and none were in his land. He was regularly surprised by the Nocter and Noctrix choosing to meet their guests in so intimate and familiar a manner, but foreign peoples often had strange customs. He turned to his two guards who were beginning to swelter under their thick fur capes and handed to one of them the carved wooden box that held the remaining Rings of the Phoenix. A short exchange in Viskari followed immediately that ended in laughter before Talsharn started undressing. One of his warriors had the undignified role of coat rack as Talsharn gave him his heavy outer garments and most of his weapons to carry until he was left in just his jewellery, a light woollen shirt and trousers, worn solely to prevent the hides he wore from chafing.

His guards made their way out of the room to avoid boiling to death under their heavy fur capes as Talsharn removed his final garments which he folded neatly and placed a pair of obsidian daggers atop before entering the water. He had a number of tattoos on his chest and arms, but the water in combination with his long braids concealed them save for the hint of details around the edges.

"You are indeed fortunate to have such a luxury to share. Back home the firewood for a hot bath forces them to be an occasional occurrence. But oh so preferable compared to bathing in the stream."