[EMPIRE!6] - The Reed Dance - Kiswa Round 9 Event

[Rolepgeek]

On the bank of the Tthula river, a celebration takes place each fall. The smaller tributary flows down from the mountains to the far west, winding through the shallow floodplains of Troll Country before joining the Sur in its meandering journey to the sea. Here the waters run blue and clear, contrasting the larger river’s murkier green. The massive bonfire gleams bright as the torches marking the outer border of the celebration grounds flicker, providing a mirror in the twilight to the waning moon and scattered stars overhead. On one side of the firelight sit a collection of squat mudbrick buildings at a distance, with tall lean-to's flanking tables arranged closer to the fire for feasting, piled high with food and drink. The space around the fire is flattened and open, providing a broad plaza enclosed with a ring of standing torches driven into the softer mud outside.

Around the bonfire dozens of dancers cavort; elves, dwarves, trolls and even a few vyrka display a variety of flamboyant costumes. Furs and leathers are adorned with bone jewelry, while skirts and mantles of woven banana leaves are covered with colorful feathers and smaller spiky leaves in autumn colors. Each dancer also wears both an accent of white wadingtooth blossoms in circlets or bracelets as tokens of respect for Ghrakka Yonghalo, and an elaborate mask of wood, bone, or sculpted ceramic, carved and painted to pay homage to the foreign deities they represent. A deep rumbling chorus carries from the throats of four trolls sitting in a circle beside the dancers, accompanied by an energetic rhythm from a line of large drums nearby and frequently joined by more enthusiastic attendees.

A lone figure stalks and prances around the outside of the main throng of dancers. A young troll in a woven skirt with flesh stained white wears the bleached skull of a larger Dhraan like a helmet, presenting a grim specter of death in contrast to the lively dance. Seemingly without warning, the representative of death will begin to leap and howl, charging at the rest of the dancers, who part like water upon stone before the oncoming menace, allowing it to pass through the other side and depart from the midst of the dancers once more.

---

Presiding over the assembly is Ruunandaraghal, High King of Ngedhuun Thukhulu Saar Lhungho, standing in the waters of the Tthula, alongside Ichippā Hadev Lhungho, whom he had taken into his kin-circle two years ago - a controversial decision at the time, but one which few dared gainsay openly. Already, her talents had made themselves apparent, and she had earned the ear of many of the Dhraan and Bel-Dan captains that had become so vital for managing the kingdom. The princess-turned-queen stood in the water as well, though it was not so comfortable for her as it was for the troll behind her. Both wore the trappings of their office - Ruunandaraghal adorned with gold and copper, bone and hide, while Ichippā wore furs across her shoulders, a woven tunic, and a heavily decorated leather skirt dipped into the water, teeth and bone lining the belt. Atop her silver hair rested a simple headdress fashioned from burnished copper, polished ivory, and a single piece of blood-red amber in the center. Even as small as she was compared to her present husband, regality rolled off her in waves, despite standing in water that came up to her knees.

The messengers had been dispatched nearly half a year ago to carry the news that this year, the best, brightest, and most distinguished members of Kiswan society were invited to attend the Reed Dance this year, and present themselves or their candidates to the High King - for he had need of heirs and therefore a need for wives, and husbands for those wives. It seemed Dhraan-ish marriage customs were multitudinous things.

To aid in deciding between what was sure to be a great many hopefuls, Ruunandaraghal had requested the presence of the Truthseers - though they were always welcome, and most often present, in the royal court, this would call for a particular attention to detail, and as such a more experienced eye than might otherwise be required, in addition to somewhat more active participation than their typical observation and translation assistance.

[Aedilred]

Those from Henanda came overland, of course, the longstanding dislike for travelling by water unchanged.The implicit threat involved in travelling so close to the lands of the Gluttonous Shadows had dissuaded all but the boldest of the peoples of Henanda from attending, although, to her credit, Haga Tibue of the Adrukal had made the journey, looking somewhat nervous and out of place, but here nonetheless.

The remainder of the delegation members walked with more swagger: two adolescent twins, tall and lean like jungle cats, and the king's brother, Onodīs, apparently similarly at ease, all three of them wearing traditional garb of their people, which is to say, very little: some bright jewellery and headgear, but only Onodīs wore a cloak. Besides them were the former Sentinel, Andronikos, and another woman in later middle age, alone among them wearing a shawl pulled up over her head. She looked from beneath this with a slightly cruel smile, until she laid eyes on Ichippā.

"Sister," she said, with an incline of the head and a note of amusement in her voice.

Spoiler: Delegation

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Acadiprē, younger sister of Etelis and Ichippā, late 40s (ononandā)
Onodīs, younger brother of Etelis, Ichippā and Acadiprē, mid-40s (ononandīs)
Ecimōnā (F) and Ochāmis (M), mid-teens, twins (bannanda)
Haga Tibue, lady of the Adrukal, late 20s (Onatūla/Ashihi)
Andronikos, ??, ??

[Frostwander]

It is a blessedly short journey from the lands of Vyterrat to the banks of the Tthula, allowing the Vygra to send a small delegation with less concern for the dangers of travel. Nevertheless, given the unpredictable movements and sudden bursts of activity of the gluttonous shadows, an escort armed with black iron weapons accompanies the group of five who approach the High King.

The leader of the delegation is a Bora approaching middle age. Smooth marble-like skin is broken by long scars running like cracks across her surface. She wears a wreath of ornate copper leaves in addition to the cloth wraps common among the Vygra. She spreads her arms wide and dips at the knees at the edge of the water before the Dhraan ruler. "It is a pleasure to meet you, High King Ruunandaraghal and Queen Ichippā. My name is Varsha. I serve as a fulji to Matji Khetra, and extend her greetings and warm wishes to you."

Varsha gestures to each of her fellows in turn as she introduces them. "My sister, Kamiya." Another Bora, very similar in marbled appearance, but less slender and with fewer scars; she stands close besides a Mira with wavy blue hair and skin, spotted with myriads of tiny dots like bubbles beneath the surface. "And her wife, Tuvini." The two wear wraps in a dull amber color, and curtsey together.

"This is Yacka, one of Fulji Aruni's warriors three, and Tuvini's mother." The older Efra woman seems to be still in peak physical condition despite approaching her fifties. Her dark brown wrap tunic is shorter in the style of Vygra warriors, leaving her arms and legs bare, and a criss-cross of pale scars contrasts the darker red of her skin.

The final member of the delegation is not a ra at all, but a human woman. While it might seem that she could be easily overlooked among her much taller companions, she carries herself with an assertive confidence that draws the gaze. Her skin is a light tan, and her build shows she is clearly no stranger to hard work. Dark brown hair is shaved close one one side, while it hangs long past her shoulder on the other. Sturdy leather tunic and trousers are decorated with colorful pressed flowers and toggles made from antlers. "And this is Phaudl, sister to Chief Kuhhim of Elkhrime, to the south of Vyterrat." The woman lifts one hand palm upward in greeting and nods, both to the High King and to Ichippā. She spends a long moment sizing up the finery of the other human woman, eyes linger especially on the ornate headdress.

"We thank you for your invitation to join in your festival of the Reed Dance. We also would be pleased to join in any discussions of your kin-circle, and wish better to understand your customs in that regard."

Spoiler: Delegation and Inspiration

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Fulji Varsha, Bora, early 30s
Kamiya, Bora, younger sister of Varsha, late 20s
Tuvini, Mira, wife of Kamiya, late 20s
Yacka, Efra mother of Tuvini, early 50s
Phaudl, early 30s, sister to the Elkhrime chief

Fulji Varsha and Kamiya inspiration

Tuvini inspiration

[Gaius Hermicus]

It was a long way from the Korebita to the lands of Lhungo Saar, but the creation of such an important kin-circle was too significant an opportunity to be missed. Both of the claimants to the throne of the United Abiherist Tribes had sent a delegation, hoping that if their candidate was selected for the kin-circle they would earn an ally in their struggle for power.

From the mountain citadel of Misig Zinabi, where Wenid Kw'Muketi claimed their parent's crown, came Geputen Kw'Torineti, one of the many children of the slain Warcaller Dinfat Kw'Torineti. Nearly as tall as their father had been, they were dressed all in goat hides and carried a gigantic spear. Around their waist, tied to a coil of rope, was the shriveled hand of a Gluttonous Shadow, which had been taken as a trophy by their parent.

Across the pavilion, glaring furiously at Geputen, another blemmyae stood. Although shorter than Geputen, they were slim and lithe, and looked equally dangerous. Slung across their chest in an X shape were twin leather bandoliers, each one strapped with ten thin flint knives. This was Rasiw Kw'Fikiri, the personal friend and advisor to Ekaniy Kw'Adeni, who ruled from Wogir and claimed the title of King of Kings.

As obvious as the enmity between Geputen and Rasiw was, it had stopped short of breaking out into actual violence. This was almost certainly due to the efforts of the third blemmyae present at the Reed Dance, one Selay Kw'Okisi. Selay was a hero of fabulous repute, but had had little interest in pursuing conventional methods of seeking glory. In fact, they had not been seen in the Korebita for almost a decade prior. It was unknown where they had been or what secrets they might have been uncovering, but there was no doubt that they were a powerful entity, and with no stake in the ongoing conflict between Wogir and Kema, they had agreed to escort Geputen and Rasiw to Troll Country and make sure that no violence broke out between them en route. Selay was neither tall nor short, handsome nor ugly, thin nor fat. In fact, their appearance was so nondescript that they would be easily forgotten by most that would speak to them. They spoke quietly, rarely raising their voice above a whisper, but despite their otherwise completely ordinary demeanor, a careful observer would note that they never once blinked during the entire encounter. They were unarmed, but both Geputen and Rasiw kept a fair distance between themselves and Selay, almost as if they were afraid.

Selay Kw'Okisi approached Ruunan, holding out their hands in greeting. O great King of the Dhraan, I come to your lands in peace. With me are the offerings for your kin-circle from both King of Kings Wenid Kw'Muketi and King of Kings Ekaniy Kw'Adeni. Choose wisely, great king, for both cannot join equally. Myself, I am here for another purpose.

[Moriko]

Once again Tyja found himself going towards troll lands, the reasoning he was given was that he attended the last meeting and survived. This time was of course slightly different because he was to potentially join into their kin-circle. The truth was that he enjoyed his last time in these lands where the land was harsh and dangerous and the inhabitants knew how to put labourers to work. "Yes, joining a kin circle sounds rather fun." he said to himself while he walked through the jungle.

He had once again given up on his deer mount in the jungle and traversed towards the festivities on foot. He could have gone by boat as many of the Sewune leaders had suggested but he felt that took away from the challenge and fun of travel. This meant of course that he was arriving later than intended but it seems he was still in time for the festivities. When he set foot outside of the wilderness and towards the gathering of people he had a few scrapes but did not look worse for wear after his ordeal. His eyes were first drawn to the dancers with their bone and banana leaf garments. It took him a minute or two but after watching the dancers he went out to greet Ruunandaraghal.

Spotting the king standing in the water he walk "Greetings King Ruunandaraghal, I am Tyja Pemmelg and have been sent by the Sewune of the Gehudu forest. I am not sure if you deemed it worthy to remember me but I have had the honour to meet you just over twelve years ago now on the banks of the river Sur. " he pauses for a second before continuing. "I stand before you today not only as the representative from the Sewne people but also as a candidate to join your kin-circle. It is both mine and my peoples wish to strengthen the bonds between our two cultures." He stands with confidence as he waits for the king to speak.

[Rolepgeek]

Henanda

Ichippā's eyes were dark as she met her sister's gaze - as dark as the sea at sunset. Even so, the polite smile on her lips turned playful by the time it reached the woman's eyes, and she dipped her head in return.

“Sister." Her eyes shifted to Onodīs, and Ichippā dips her chin again, face inscrutable. “Brother."

"emar angēmān endān ill busar. Have you come for the festivities alone? Or has the eldest of our number deigned to grant me the company our father did not?"

---

Vygra

The King of the Trolls surveyed the assembled Vygra at the riverbank, inclining his head with each introduction, and replying only after the fulji has finished speaking.

"It is well that you should be able to come. My family and my people will long owe debts to yours for the aid granted us against the Blightspawn. It is my sincere hope that you enjoy the festivities, and eat to your fill and more."

The words are monotonous, and there is a long pause before Ichippā clears her throat quietly, and Ruunandaraghal shakes himself, eyes suddenly sharp and bright as they glanced at each guest once more, rolling their shoulders. He nods as if in response to his own unasked question, and gestures at one of the few un-costumed Vyrka in attendance - a young Mykra, by the looks of them, with stippled skin and thick hair that seems to roll as if they were still caught in the river's pull underneath its ties, who lifts their head and starts strutting towards the group with a wry smile.

"Though it would be my utmost pleasure to converse with you all at length, I am sadly fettered by my own status as host for the moment. Kanbir, however, has made himself invaluable as of late, and learned much about our customs. I am sure he would be more than happy to speak with you about such matters. Isn't that right, Kanbir?"

Right on cue, the man in question bowed with a flourish and a grin. "Of course, my king! Ah...regarding what am I to discuss, again, if I may be so impudent?"

The ruler of the Dhraan chuckles, a low rumble like rocks being dropped into sand, and patterns swing across their neck and and face like slow-falling leaves as they respond. "Our guests are curious of Dhraanish kin-circles, Kanbir. Given how many questions you bombarded my sister with, I imagine you are more than equipped to inform them."


Still grinning, Kanbir bows again, this time facing the Vygra, before making an equally embellished motion to direct their gazes to the waiting tables. "I would be happy to entertain you, my far-southern cousins, if you will only follow me - I cannot think that you would be ought but famished after the journey here, and there is a saying among our hosts which I find very astute - 'Good conversation demands good eating'!"

Spoiler: Kanbir inspiration

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---

Blemmyae Tribes

"Such a statement provokes much interest from me, honored guest. Will you say your name and purpose at this festival, then, or leave this king to wonder? The names, too, of the proffered suitors which accompany you, so that they might be addressed properly should I choose either among their number!"

Addressed as Ruun by those few privileged enough to count the King as personal friend, the Dhraan looked to his wife to gauge her reaction to these Blemmyae - and as expected, she was nervous, though few others would be able to tell from the slight shift in her posture and carefully placed head. Ruun could not blame her - he was still uncertain how to judge this scenario himself. It would have to depend on the Blemmy that had spoken, despite being dressed more plainly than either of their companions - an oddity in itself...

---

Sewune

[Gaius Hermicus]

Selay blinks to Ruun in acknowledgement. But of course, my lord. I forgot myself. I am Selay Kw'Okisi, hero of the United Abiherist Tribes, here to pledge my skill in battle and my knowledge of the songs to the Dreamspeakers. With me are two of the finest in the Korebita, Geputen Kw'Torineti, the brave spear-thrower, and Rasiw Kw'Fikiri, a survivor of the Battle of Kincany. I can vouch for them both, having traveled with them this way. They are upstanding people, brave and loyal, although neither can recognize those traits in the other.

[Epinephrine_Syn]

The Merchants of Krud, The Greeting To The King

The Krud family line were merchants, which wasn’t especially common among Trollkind. Many of them prided themselves in brawns over brains, specifically using brains to *bash in* brains. But the Krud thought differently, and they knew for certain that the trolls who knew how to lead would think the same. Or at the very least knew that a good king knew brains were just as good a weapon as brawns.

To that end, the Krud had compiled an assortment of texts from all around the known world, specifically crafted and written to be scaled up to troll size. It was enough to fill a small (by troll standards) room, and compiled most knowledge of the known world, and even some from beyond it.

This was to serve as the centerpiece of a dowry, the gifts to ensure favor from the king of trolls for the Krud family line, and for him to perhaps accept their candidate for a wife. This was hardly the only thing offered though, that would be insulting. There was the standard compliment of treasures, and a large platter of fingers.



Not just troll fingers either, but encircled around the main dish was a ring of fingers from all manner of smaller races, akin to a side dish seasoning. Those were harder to obtain, as other races were loathe to part with their body parts. But not impossible, especially for large powerful merchants such as the Krud.

Their offered wife was Klarra Krud, a young and promising member. She’d proven herself very intelligent by outwitting trolls far her senior, and was larger than most of those trolls to boot. Her scales glistened with polish, and from her young age there wasn’t a single scar in sight. She had one, but it wasn’t in an obvious place, and just one was fine.

From quite a young age she was recognized as a talent, and especially with the rise of troll kings gaining a strong amount of dominion, they’d planned throughout and forbid her to participate in the traditional mutually cannibalistic greetings growing up. Specifically for this moment, where she would offer up her virgin finger to the king.

“Oh, Krud.”

One of the members of the event had seen the group coming, they were finally here. It was time to put on their best behavior, and win their way into the power structure of the Troll King.

(I'm not sure if anything should be corrected, but I can always edit later if anything did need to be. You said some corrections but that may just be in my learning conceptions of it all rather than anything to change in the post.)

[Potato_Priest]

Lorna MacGill had always been ambitious. Born the younger cousin of Rosie MacGill, she had patiently waited for her chance to claim the matriarchy. But through murder by the Blemmyae, civil war and the blight, it had never came. And now Rosie was courting Tavish MacGrath a widower whose two daughters would surely remove any chance of her ascension. At 28 rainy seasons, it was finally time to take her fate into her own hands.

As she ordered her maidservant Marnie to paddle their canoe up to the Troll-prince, she felt butterflies in her chest. So, this was it. A new life, outside Kincany, in a land where dwarves were considered lesser beings. Well. She would just have to show them what's what.

The canoe pulled up alongside Ruunandaraghal and Ichippa. Hoisting up her MacGill tartan skirt, she introduced herself, pronouncing the king's name with an exacting dictation that gave away the many hours she had spent practicing it.

"Yer highness Ruunandaraghal, I am given ta understand that ye are looking for foreign nobles ta join yer court." She knelt on the port gunnel, causing the canoe to rock. "I am Lorna MacGill of the Anbroch, cousin of the Matriarch, and I would be honored- ach!" kneeling on the side of the canoe as she was, the bow that she had practiced with her introduction caused the canoe to tip over, sending herself and the maidservant splashing into the shallow murky water next to the King and Ichippa.

[Rolepgeek]

Sewune

"Grehh...I'm very sorry, it's been a rather troubling decade, and I've never possessed the skill for faces my wife has."

Ichippa smiles at the Sewune and dips her brow politely. "Yes, I remember him. The suggestions you brought, friend, were...troubling, at the time. I'm sure that, were you to spend a season or two with us, you would see why." The smile does not reach her eyes, cold and piercing.

"Hrehehehh. Nnnn, well it is good to meet you once again, Tyja Pemmelg! Please, enjoy the festivities. The people of Gehudu have always offered friendship to Saar Lhungho, so I see no reason not to reciprocate! Perhaps we will speak later, so as to learn of one another in greater detail!"

The King gestures broadly, but it would seem his wife's assessment has cost Tyja potential favor. But there yet remained a chance to recover, it seemed!

MacGill

Ichippa's face changes only slightly as she bites her cheek so as to keep from showing amusement at the dwarf's overturned craft, instead taking a few splashing steps forward to reach down and try to pull Lorna's maidservant out of the water - it was too deep for a dwarf to stand with their head above the water, and she had learned quickly that the short folk were no lighter than her own despite their size - and she had once feared the water, like all Bannanda. But then, she'd once been afraid of many things. The memory of her first encounter with the Dhraan ensured she kept biting her cheek to keep a straight face, and the former princess of Bannanda looked back to see Ruunandaraghal moving easily through the water and bending down with two massive hands to scoop up the dwarven noblewoman.

Ruunandaraghal waited with the patience of stone for Lorna to regain her footing and composure alike, though his mind churned with uncertainty. His arms were perfectly stable, giving the dwarf a platform just above the water's surface. The troll's eyes were steady on her, and were she to meet them, two things might leap out at her: first, that they were the color of gold, with a stain like verdigris rust carving out just enough to give the impression of a bursting star, and second, that they were filled with something recognizable - and it wasn't pity. Nor scorn, nor condescension, but...concern, and curiosity.

He nodded to her, as though to indicate that she should finish her declaration, and waited patiently until it was finished before responding, words slow and carefully chosen, unblinking as his eyes meet hers.

"...are you certain, Lady MacGill of the Anbroch? The thing you ask - it will not make for an easy life. Not for either of us - my kin and my people are long-accustomed to our traditions. To have admitted any who are not Dhraan to my kin-circle already stirs them to talk where they think I cannot hear. You will draw their scrutiny, and their ire, all the more - more even than Ichippa does now.

"I cannot help but admire the courage, fortitude, and skill of a woman of Kincany to come here - by water, no less! - with naught but a maidservant to aid her, and seek the hand of a king whose people even now see her own as children."

As the rumbling tones of the Dhraan's voice trail off, there is a deep and abiding exhaustion in his words. The dwarves were prone to violence, yes - Kincany itself showed what happened in absence of the Dhraan. But the Dhraan were no better, without the aid of the smallfolk! Learning how deeply the kingdom was dependent on the thrall-tax to avoid starvation had been sobering, and every Dhraan knew what happened then - to be reduced to the status of feral was to become little better than a wild beast, hunger-crazed, mind stripped down to fear and hunger and a terribly focused cunning. Since his father had been murdered, the danger of the Shadows had forced a constant balancing act to keep the Unngthezhe compliant and loyal enough to provide the warriors and tax so desperately needed to drive off the creatures and uncover their foul nests. He still did not have the respect of Ingkannu, that self-proclaimed champion of the river goddess, and while her help had thus far been sorely needed and swiftly provided, so too had she made it clear that her allegiance was to their shared Mother, not to him.

All this meant that he simply did not have the time he once did to focus on the finer details of trade negotiations and managing the Eduuzhe who collected the tariffs on river traffic, nor seek friends abroad as he once did in Henanda. Without the way cleared for more significant trade, their food supplies - and by extension, the kingdom itself - was still dependent on satisfying the Unngthezhe. Who, of course, had no interest in emulating the more equitable relations between elf, dwarf, and Dhraan that Unghlaban put proof to.

"For these reasons I cannot refuse your offer, but...should this knowledge of the travails that await have turned your heart's desire homeward once more, then know that I will furnish you with my emblem, such that none would dare bar your passage, or deny you hospitality. Neither grudge nor ill will would be borne against you, and with you would travel gifts from the lord of Saar Lhungho, great enough to quell the doubts of any cruel-minded detractors of the service to the MacGills your trip was made in, thereby safeguarding the honor and virtue of your name.

"With these said and freely offered, I must ask a second time. Lady Lorna MacGill, of the Anbroch Clans - are you certain?"

Blemmyae

The King's laughter and voice alike carry past Selay and on to his wards, when he replies.
"That is unfortunate indeed! For even the most dire of foes are yet elevated in stature to acknowledge the strengths and virtues of the other! To carry abiding respect within one's bosom for an opponent is to carry the certainty of victory over not merely the easily cowed and stammering fool but the brave and well-spoken veteran! And as each fights in service to their king, has either broken oath with the other, or witnessed behavior which should illicit shame in the hearts of your people? What cause have they to believe words of venom and bile, if they are certain in their own loyalties, unsupported by that shoddiest of limbs which is hatred through ignorance?"

The Troll pauses, and a deep rumble builds up in his chest before rolling out into laughter, at which Ichippa seems mildly alarmed. Ruunandaraghal looks at her and his scales flex with the colors of a grin as he looks to Selay and the other Blemmyae once more.

"Surely, with two warriors of such fine repute as these, there must be many stories of their valor, skill at arms, and virtuous qualities displayed broadly and quietly alike! If I am to choose but one, it is only fair to call for contest! Each of them shall tell to me fine tales of the other, and tell me in any form they like of the other's most noteworthy and important traits, be they good or ill. From this shall I draw my understanding of them, and choose the more impressive. And, of course, they may take as long as they like to prepare, so long as I hear before they depart again."

[Potato_Priest]

Standing there dripping on the arm of a Troll, Lorna was impressed for the first time by how big they really were. Best not to screw this up.
"Thank ye for yer kind offer, Rhuunandaraghal and Lady Ichippa. As ye know, ye rule over more Dwarves than the Warlady of the Anbroch, and her continued belligerence and military failures have made her at best a laughing stock and at worst a bogey-woman across Kiswa. Being a member of yer Kin-Circle would be a great honor, and far in excess of my opportunities back at home. But, while we're getting things off our chests, my leaving Kincany did not fail to attract the attention of Warlady MacGill. In fact, to avoid getting disowned from the family or dragged home in the middle of the night in a sack, I made an agreement ta spy on yer lands for her, and she'll be expecting me ta send reports. Nothing serious of course, but I imagine a few details of the strength of your patrols on the northern border or the effective handling of the shadows might help turn her attention elsewhere, and if not, I'm sure a clever king like ye can find a use for an enemy spy in wartime."

She gestured over at a truthseer in the crowd on the shore, "Now, it's normally not my policy to announce to the target of espionage exactly what I'm doing ta them, but with yer freindship with the truthseers I figured it might be best ta get it out of the way now. If yer offer still stands, I would be honored ta join yer Kin-Circle. It will be hard, but staying under the shadow of my cousin is no way ta live a life, and perhaps the suggestion of the possibility being hauled off ta Kincany for medical expiriments will help ta soothe the minds of the Dhraan that object."

[Rolepgeek]

Anbroch

The Dhraanish king laughs uproariously, pulling himself back to mere chortling before responding. "Hra! You'll make for a fine circle-wife! Greheh...as candid as any Dhraan and twice as clever. Here, then - " Ruun puts his hands down to allow the dwarf to dismount on the shore, where'd been wading to, the water parting easily before his bulk. "Ichippā'll be your senior, and she'll be coordinating much of the arrangements for the ceremony to come. For now, I expect you'll want to meet the prospects that'll be wanting to join you - we'll have more time to speak after the festival. Meeting you has been a pleasure, Lorna MacGill of the Anbroch."

[Moriko]

Spoiler: Regrettable First Impressions

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Sewune

"Grehh...I'm very sorry, it's been a rather troubling decade, and I've never possessed the skill for faces my wife has."

Ichippa smiles at the Sewune and dips her brow politely. "Yes, I remember him. The suggestions you brought, friend, were...troubling, at the time. I'm sure that, were you to spend a season or two with us, you would see why." The smile does not reach her eyes, cold and piercing.

"Hrehehehh. Nnnn, well it is good to meet you once again, Tyja Pemmelg! Please, enjoy the festivities. The people of Gehudu have always offered friendship to Saar Lhungho, so I see no reason not to reciprocate! Perhaps we will speak later, so as to learn of one another in greater detail!"

The King gestures broadly, but it would seem his wife's assessment has cost Tyja potential favor. But there yet remained a chance to recover, it seemed!

Tyja knew that last they spoke he had made a request that was proof of his ignorance of the Lhungho Saar ways. His travels in these lands had taught him much and he would prove this to the king and what seemed more important to the queen before the night ended but first he intended to talk to others present.

---

The first on the list was the representative of the Anbroch.

When Tyja saw that Lorna MacGill had stepped away from the king for a moment he aproached her.

Greetings, my name is Tyja Pemmelg from the Sewune. I know that our people have not interacted for many years but we have heard of the events in your homeland and the sheer will that drives your people. he lowers his voice It also seems that the way you conduct business might be in line with some of the business we do and I was hoping to discuss this if you were so inclined. He flashes her a smile as he waits for a reply.

---

Later that evening he returned to the king for more conversation.


It is an honour to speak with you once more King Ruunandaraghal he looks at Ichippa and dips his headand you also lady Chippa. I have thought about your and my own words alike and combined with the things seen and learned on my travels and even this very night I see the folly of our previous proposal. One cannot buy the people of these lands and move them elsewhere and I apologise for this insult that was given many years ago. he pauses slightly to gage the response from both the king and his first wife.

As you said we have always offered friendship and I hope that we can build on this. The Sewune would still very much like to assist you with your troubles and if there is anything we can do please let us know. As for myself I would like to remain in these lands regardless of the outcome of tonight's proceedings if you would permit it so.

[Frostwander]

Vygra

The King of the Trolls surveyed the assembled Vygra at the riverbank, inclining his head with each introduction, and replying only after the fulji has finished speaking.

"It is well that you should be able to come. My family and my people will long owe debts to yours for the aid granted us against the Blightspawn. It is my sincere hope that you enjoy the festivities, and eat to your fill and more."

The words are monotonous, and there is a long pause before Ichippā clears her throat quietly, and Ruunandaraghal shakes himself, eyes suddenly sharp and bright as they glanced at each guest once more, rolling their shoulders. He nods as if in response to his own unasked question, and gestures at one of the few un-costumed Vyrka in attendance - a young Mykra, by the looks of them, with stippled skin and thick hair that seems to roll as if they were still caught in the river's pull underneath its ties, who lifts their head and starts strutting towards the group with a wry smile.

"Though it would be my utmost pleasure to converse with you all at length, I am sadly fettered by my own status as host for the moment. Kanbir, however, has made himself invaluable as of late, and learned much about our customs. I am sure he would be more than happy to speak with you about such matters. Isn't that right, Kanbir?"

Right on cue, the man in question bowed with a flourish and a grin. "Of course, my king! Ah...regarding what am I to discuss, again, if I may be so impudent?"

The ruler of the Dhraan chuckles, a low rumble like rocks being dropped into sand, and patterns swing across their neck and and face like slow-falling leaves as they respond. "Our guests are curious of Dhraanish kin-circles, Kanbir. Given how many questions you bombarded my sister with, I imagine you are more than equipped to inform them."


Still grinning, Kanbir bows again, this time facing the Vygra, before making an equally embellished motion to direct their gazes to the waiting tables. "I would be happy to entertain you, my far-southern cousins, if you will only follow me - I cannot think that you would be ought but famished after the journey here, and there is a saying among our hosts which I find very astute - 'Good conversation demands good eating'!"

Spoiler: Kanbir inspiration

Show

The delegation turn and greet the introduced Kanbir. Neither Kanbir's appearance or name follow the standards of the Vygra, though they were obviously of a similar origin. Some word had been shared about the Vyrka, and though used to variety among individuals, this difference was still noteworthy to the visitors, and their curiousity shows as they follow him from the king's presence to the feast.

"I am pleased to meet you, Kanbir. In truth, I've been hopeful to meet our kin from beyond the Sur, but not until now have I had the opportunity to travel. I would be glad to hear about you, and how your tribe has weathered through the Red Sky.

"And as the king expressed, we wish to know more of the kin-circle he is forming. Forging a bond through family with our neighbors here, we hope, would benefit us both. Kamiya and Tuvini are recently wed and without children yet, but have expressed interest in such a connection. As well, Phaudl has left her brother's household in Elkhrime to seek the broader world. She is an accomplished craftswoman, and to our understanding kin-circles here seem similar to the shared tents of the Harud." Varsha gestures to each of her companions as she speaks of them, then looks to Kanbir to answer.

[Gaius Hermicus]

Both Geputen Kw'Torineti and Rasiw Kw'Fikiri looked shocked at the suggestion that they say good things about each other. Selay Kw'Okisi, by contrast, couldn't keep themself from laughing. Oh, what a clever idea, King Ruunanhangandhral! They stepped aside, watching Geputen and Rasiw with obvious amusement.

Rasiw Kw'Fikiri looked askance at their rival. In truth, this mangy dog has accomplished a lot in their life. Well, in fairness, they fought nobly in the Battle of Kema, where they held the center square singlehandedly against half a dozen of my kinspeople. And their skill as a wrestler is of rarely seen quality.

Geputen looks rather surprised to hear Rasiw speak so highly of them. Well, I am hardly the only one to have accomplished things. This treacherous snake was the first into the fray in the Battle of Kema, and though the rebel forces failed to take the city, it was not through any lack of determination on their part. I have seen them go toe to toe with warriors twice their size and come out on top. In honesty, I doubt their king could have selected a better candidate to send to your court.

[Rolepgeek]

Vygra

"Well, I cannot say I know much of the Harud, but I have learned much here." Kanbir's smile is not so wide, this time, but it is sincere, and he gestures for the Vygra to seat themselves as they liked, picking up a berry and popping it into his mouth as he takes a position from which he can see them all, and all can see him. "First, though, you asked me of my tribe - and my particular tribe was spared the worst of the blow, but even the glancing strike from that burning cold was such that we struggled for the barest survival for generations - or so the few stories that have survived since then say. The people of my Ka, however..." The Vyrka tilts his head from side to side, as though weighing options for what to say, before continuing:

"The Mikra did not fare so well. Before the Dhraan of these waters came, we were forced to contend with trolls of far more hostile disposition. I have been told that such is the state the Dhraan fall into when they are starved - to traverse the rivers, or gather the blessed harvests of their waters as we are told our Ka demands...these things were dangerous." Kanbir's voice is low, careful, and solemn. "My uncle did not live to his twenty-fifth flood. The Mykra are...well. Like us, the Dhraan are a peoples bound to the waters, and I am thankful that Lhungho Saar did what our own kings could not - " or would not, the briefest pause seems to say on Kanbir's behalf "- do, and drive their feral kindred from our lands."

He pauses a moment, allowing this strange and morbid statement to settle - before his face lights up with a confident grin again and he changes topics. "Ah, but of course! Your warriors are but a fraction Efryt. I may presume that your elders do not hold to Ka after the same fashion as my own, yes?" Kanbir pauses for an affirmatory response before barreling on, "Then of course my explanation would be of little help to you! Our Ka is our...essence, or calling, I suppose may be the best way to put it. I am Mikra, and so my Ka is that of the raging flood and the still water. To fulfill my Ka, I must do that which exemplifies and heightens that connection." He nods to Tuvini, before turning his gaze to Yacka, where his smile turns sly. "Among my people, the Efryt have Ka of fire and smoke, and so to them we leave the greatest part of our defense against dangers upon the land, the clearing of that land for crops, the working of copper and the baking of bread. Bravyd, whose Ka is stone and soil," - a nod to the Bora in the group - "sift the wilds for bounty which we could not ourselves grow, build our homes, and turn stone into tools - not to mention their knowledge of sickness and recovery."

"Last but so often greatest are the Ravyk, whose Ka is that of the sky and storm, who give, ah, spiritual guidance to our people as regards how best to fulfill our Ka. Those who find themselves unsuited for such vaunted positions will weave clothing, or hunt. And those are the four foundations of my people. Personally, I always felt somewhat...hemmed in, I suppose, by the demands to meet it, but most seem perfectly happy to do as is asked of them." He shrugs.

"As for kin-circles, well...Dhraan like their families large - I'm pretty sure they like everything large, to be quite honest - and that means that they bond in rather sizable groups - a group of Dhraanish men and a group of Dhraanish women will all form one big horizontal family. Sort of. Ah, there's a bit of importance placed on the relative...respect, I supposed, afforded to one by the rest of the group, who is favored over whom, and so there tends to be descending authority and prestige afforded to one in either group - I am, for instance, the third of three husbands of good King Ruunandaraghal's sister, who is my first wife - I have four, as do my fellow husbands. It's...usually more important when dealing with those outside the circle, really, though. Seniority is most often determined by time, she's told me - understandable, though I do sometimes wonder if it isn't my own, ah...stature that determines that more..."

Kanbir laughs easily as he runs a hand through his strange hair, and narrows his eyes playfully, asking: "How was that, for the very briefest of explanations?"