Warning: NSFW

Chapter 4: Strange Customs Between Teeth

I still see you in my dreams, reaching out to me. Pulling at something in me, what do you need? Do you need my power? My voice? My presence? Tell me Ghost. Your lips move with words I cannot hear, what do you need? I need to speak to you again, I need to know what you know, I want to know your name. I want to know you. 

Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Waiting D.72

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, my back cracked with a glorious stretch. Hair spilling out around me as I got up, I bothered to undo my braid the night before. Sometimes I forgot just how long it was, but a sad smile crossed my face when I thought that I was going to be the one to redo it. Mother always used to help me in the morning with it. 

The Dwarves had given us all their own cots; they were far more comfortable than the bedrolls and nests we were used to. In just one day, they had built replacements for themselves. One of the best nights' sleep I've had in a while, still yawning while I began brushing my hair. Working the various knots that had found themselves hanging up curtains, moving quickly. The Family was tasked with setting up the layout of what was going to be called the 'Underside'. They were already being taught how to carve away the rock to make more room, planning on connecting several caves together. 

My 'room', as they called it, was already given a few privacy screens, lacy things that let in light, but couldn't be seen through. Halgier had given them to me after seeing the main chamber where most of the clan slept. He laughed and called it the biggest barracks he'd ever seen, though he was joking, he called it a comfortable hovel. After giving me them, dozens of couples with children wished for them too. Asking Caleb if they could be made temporarily, he was more than happy to teach them how to make the simple structures. 

Trying to work one particularly dense knot out of my hair, someone wrapped their knuckles on the screen. Thinking it was one of the Clan, I simply told them to come in; there was very little privacy in the clan up until now; it was just a fact of life. A Dwarf I recognized, even if I had only seen him a few times. Gjorn walked in, just to cover his eyes. 

"I knew we were friendly, I didn't think this much, your Grace," Gjorn said, the smirk on his face made me laugh.

Pulling my dress on over my bare chest, fanning my hair out from under the thing. "You can open your eyes. Does everyone have that same reaction? Beyond that, when am I a 'Grace'?"

"Since you've officially been recognized by the Dwarven State as a Governor." He said, removing his hand from his face. Side-eyeing me, he turned me around and laced up the back of the dress. Yelping as he did so, "Besides, I need you out of this thing and into something a bit more courtly. You and I have a big day today." 

"You know, I've turned down more than one proposition." I huffed at him, "I haven't anyone this insistent in a while." Teasing him. 

"Ha! There is that golden humor I've been hearing so much about. I returned last night. I was told you were asleep and didn't wish to disturb you. So, I spent the night speaking with your Advisors, and Second King Halgier. You're quite the figure here in the village." Gjorn laughed, a belly rumbling sound that echoed off the walls of the cave. 

"Besides, I have another gift for you." He said, pointing at a box sitting just outside the screened-off room. "I'll have a tailor down here soon enough, it's a lovely thing that I think you'll appreciate. Especially considering I added a few extra aspects to it that you'll find useful." He said as he finished up the last of the strings. 

He surprised me, the dress Mother had given me fit better than usual. Was I tying it wrong this entire time? "Mage, King, Politician, and now a tailor who's fluent in women's clothing? My, my, your Excellency. What seems to be the occasion to visit me in such a state, and with gifts as well?" I put on my best posh voice I could, he smiled. 

"You might just pass yourself off as one of Galus' ass-kissing courtiers! However, this isn't some conjugal visit; I need you ready and presentable to meet with the King of Galus to discuss the events that have taken place. Per Dwarven Law, if a territory is contested, the rulers and its vassals need to be in attendance. Hence, you, Governor Ilgor. As much as I admire the sheer pragmatism of your people and their garb, it will do nothing to earn respect from the upper echelon of Galus. It's not just the King who will be seeing you, but much of the Nobility as well." 

"What? Now?" Tripping over my hair.

"Yes, or do you want an audience for that too?" He smirked as he handed the box to me. 

"Smartass." I spit back as the box pulled me down far more than I thought it would. 

He turned, speaking quickly as he walked away, "Ah, you'll find it fits just as well as that chainmail you used to wear, a little lighter actually." I only briefly wondered how he knew about that, only to remember he just spent quite a bit of time talking with Ghet, Cori, and Knoll.

"Ah, Miss Beezelt, would you be so kind as to assist her Grace with her new dress?" Looking up to see the first dwarven woman I had ever laid eyes on. She was far thinner than the men, though looking at her hands and shoulders, one wouldn't be able to tell. The sidelocks framing her face would have looked like muttonchops if they weren't hanging past her waist.

Bowing to me, a case of what I assumed were her tools in his arms. "Governor Ilgor. May we begin? There isn't too much time for finer alterations, but enough that it will highlight your features."

Handing her the box, reaching back, I started undoing the laces that Gjorn had so masterfully done. One pull and I had to catch the dress before it completely fell to the floor. Miss Beezelt ran a small pole out from her bag, quickly stringing a curtain from the cave wall to the privacy screen. When I gave her a questioning look, "You'd best get used to guarding your modesty, your Grace. Dwarven men are not permitted to look upon a woman in her full bloom, a fact that many in your clan will need to learn. As for that matter, most Human men and women have an aversion to that as well. While your Clan may be permitted to keep your culture and self-rule, when outside the village, you will need to learn others' customs as well." 

"I suppose that makes sense," I said, hearing the guards' armor clink as they took up positions around my room. "More I should grow accustomed to?" I asked while letting the dress fall to the floor anyway, rummaging through my bags and singular box for the nicest garments I could find.

"Yes, as you will be acting emissary for your people, you will be treated like the highest priority for the Guard, under Majestet Gjorn's command." She said as she turned me around and began taking my measurements, several of them making even me blush.

"I don't mean to make this sound rude, I just don't know any way to ask." I started as she took that damned measuring tape away from my inner thigh. " Are all of you permitted to speak so freely?" 

In a flash, she was sitting down with several glowing needles, stitching away at a few different pieces. Waving to the cot, asking if I would sit. She handed me two pieces of clothing I had never seen before, not answering me right away as she saw me confused about them. Sighing, with an eyeroll.

She was up far faster than someone her size should have been, maybe that's how the rest of the world looked at us, too. Taking the first piece, she slid it around my chest, pushing my breasts up, making them look far more impressive than they really were. Little clasps in the back joined together before I could react to her pulling the second set up around my legs. "Yes, we are. But, please. Your Grace, lower your voice; every conversation needn't be overheard. Does the brasier need adjusting? The panties ought not be too loose on you." 

"I mean, it is a little harder to breathe. Why must I lower my voice?" She was behind me quickly again, taking another measurement. One of her glowing needles shot out from the dress toward me. Flinching as it quickly undid several stitches and redoing them, my breathing now returning to what I was accustomed to. "Much better! What magic are you using in the needles?"

"It is the needles, I am a tailor. The Women of the Dwarves aren't noticed as much when we are the march. We wear the same bulky bulletproof armor as them. The helmets even cover their beards most of the time. You've been eyeing me this entire time." She laughed as I looked away a bit too slowly; she was just so different from the men. 

She kept giggling as she took both the pieces of clothing off me again. Making more succinct measurements, jotting them down in a small leatherbound book. Handing them to me, she told me to put them back on while she went back to the dress. Struggling my way through the brasier, it still felt like it wasn't there by the end. Pulling the panties back on, a question occurred to me. "What is the point of these? I'll have whatever dress and pants on anyway?"

"Your Grace. They are meant to both accentuate your features, as well as protect your clothes from your ass." The laugh that came out of me, as well as a few of the Guards around my room, only made me laugh harder. Looking behind me, I suppose, sure, it did look a bit more shapely, as if I thought I had a problem with that to begin with. She continued as I stared down at my falsely large chest. "Attractiveness in a woman while in Court earns you quite a bit of respect. It gives you an air of confidence, regality. A woman may be as sharp as a whip, cleverer than every man in the room. Yet, in human terms, you'd be seen as less if you appeared unattractive to them."

"I don't appreciate having my merit influenced by my attractiveness." I started as she stepped over to me, pulling the new dress over my head. "What bearing does that have on my ability?"

She laced up the back of it; it wasn't restrictive in the least. It reminded me of the priestess's gown Mother made me wear, the one Gjorn had just made fit far better than it ever had before. Though this covered far more in contrast, noticing now how breathable the fabric was. "It doesn't, but the games men play while on their thrones. The Dwarves care not who their Commander is, so long as they are competent. It just so happens we've had Queens before, but this generation of leadership all had sons. You'll find this to be more of an issue in human settlements, your Grace."

The thing flowed beautifully, lacy trimmings, the skirt pleated in the front to allow for more movement. Fingering many areas where there seemed to be pockets. "What are these for?" Looking back over to the Tailor who was already removing thin metal plates from her bag. 

"For your armor. Governor Ilgor, you will be entering a lion's den. Majestet Gjorn will have you protected at all times. While they wouldn't dare an assassination attempt right now, not with two Dwarven armies at their doorstep. That doesn't mean we want to be lax about this type of thing. My duties are both Armorer and Tailor. I had these plates etched by the Forgemaster with protective runes. I trust you'll be able to move quite freely even with the plates slotted in." She said while sliding each plate into the pockets, each one already formed to my frame. Covering my vital organs, curved so gracefully that one could almost miss the fact that they were angled to deflect. 

While marveling at the subtlety in it all, she slid backing plates down my legs, where they caught in holds I hadn't noticed yet. Full plate armor under a dress fit for a Queen, metal forged to take impact and deflect. "The pockets and skirt do a nice job of hiding the metal!" Admiring the look in the small mirror in the corner of the room. 

Before I could even turn to her, she pulled another, much thinner blouse over me. Perfect concealment. "Would you mind doing a twirl for me and jumping up and down a few times. I need to hear that the metal doesn't click or rattle."

One pirouette and a few jumps later, she nodded her head in admiration at her own work. "I've never had armor this quiet. Not even when we were still raiding, our own clothes made more noise than this." 

"Majestet Gjorn spared no expense for this. Special fabric, special metal, and one very special Tailor. I'd wager you'd be able to take quite a few bullets before it so much as dented that metal, well, so long as they don’t aim for your head." She started pleating my hair in a braid as she spoke. 

"Why so much attention for me, what about my people?" I asked. 

"Don't you worry, we are working on plans to make uniforms for your, what did you call them? Raiders. Perhaps we should call them soldiers now, your Grace. Raiders may give a false impression." She voiced a valid point. Her fingers were working far more quickly than I thought she'd be able to. 

"So I am the VIP for the moment." Fixing the feathers I wore in my hair on their long strings. Already reaching for the prayer beads Mother had given to me, placing them around my neck, waiting to see if Miss Beezelt said anything about them. Then again, staring down at myself in the mirror, it matched the outfit rather well. 

"For the moment, yes. Your Advisors will receive similar types of protection later. Your soldiers will be given armor and training up to our standards, and your general populace will begin being taught how to make their own clothing. Then again, they seem to already have the basics down. We can show them how to make them more durable; eventually, a style will emerge." Already done with my braid, which only took her a few minutes. It took me only a little longer to do that if I weren't trying to wake up every time.

A rap against the screen again, Miss Beezelt stepped away from me. Bowing low to the new visitor. "You look stunning, Governor Ilgor." His raspy gravely voice was always a welcome sound. Ghet walked in, followed closely by Halgier and Gjorn. There wasn't much time for preamble as I was hurried about getting my boots on and strapping my saber to a back frog. 

Being ushered out of the caves toward the Boar pens, a squadron of the beasts had been fitted with glittering brass, small arcane engines on the back of their saddles. Puffing steam as a rotary gun mounted to them turned slowly with each puff. Being helped up onto one, while the rest of his men mounted up, rifles across their laps. I could swing my leg over the side of the beast, but I was told that wasn't how I was going to sit. 

Some nonsense about riding sidesaddle while wearing a dress, I would ruin the fabric otherwise. The village was only growing smaller in the distance while we set off toward the City. "Is everything going to be okay?" I asked Gjorn riding next to me. 

"There is nothing to worry about," Following my eyes to the heavy armament of the Guard. He continued, "Ha! It's for show. Well, no, that is a lie. It is predominantly for your protection, while yes, you have done a phenomenal job of slowly changing the attitudes of the people about the Goblins. That doesn't mean inside the city you will be safer. Beyond that, Halgier and I are some of the best fighters our Clan's hold. Baring my whimsical voice that is." 

Halgier snorted, "Whimsical voice, he says. You remember that you cannot use that damned magic inside the Court. Besides, now I have to worry about two of you." 

"I can dampen my voice, haven't you noticed that your attention isn't dragged in a million different directions while in the Village? I taught them to control that." I said, talking made me feel better. My entire life, I had been told to avoid the city, besides my own excursions. I had always walked around in disguise or hidden from the eyes of men. It felt strange to walk into the city, not hiding a damn thing.

"I know, however, I hate to put it this way. But, when in our meeting with the King, please do not speak unless spoken to, that goes the same with your Gjorn. The last time I brought you with me, they Silenced your magic." Halgier said, turning back to us in his saddle. "Speak as much as you wish with the Nobility, just try not to expose much of what we are doing in the Village quite yet. As for now, its layout, what we are building, the defensive arrays we have around the encampment are matters of national secrecy for the moment."

"They have Casters that can Silence magic too?" I asked, curious as I had yet to see a single human using magic. 

"Oh yes, and they are nothing compared to me," Gjorn responded haughtily, glancing my way. "Soon, they will be nothing compared to you." 

"You are going to teach me more? I already had an excellent teacher, who taught me everything I know so far. Well, and Mother teaching me what he called 'A solid Foundation, but made of weak stones'." I had his full attention. 

"Who taught you?" The Bluejay asked, a strange change in his tone of voice. Cautious, curious. Halgier turned his head toward us to hear better as we entered the real part of the Ancient Forest. 

The amount of traffic going through the woods had already compacted the snow down for an impromptu road, as well as nearly all the underbrush being stomped down. "He never told me his name; he called himself the Sorcerer. Usually wore a silver mask covered in runes and symbols I had never seen before. Except for one occasion, I had never seen him without it." 

Gjorn murmured to himself while mulling over the information. Answering eventually as we reached the first escarpment leading to the main road between Glaion and Willowbrook. "What did he look like? What did he wear? What did he teach you?" 

"Well, he had far too many eyes. I knew why he wore that mask, eventually he took it off. I couldn't count them all. All different colors, shapes, species. He had teeth far too sharp to be a human, his main eyes that looked through the mask were bright green. Always the cynic and a butcherous critic of anything. Nothing was above ridicule to that man. But he broke down every concept I held and challenged me on everything, making me think before coming to any real conclusions. He taught me many of the skills that the Clan improved on. Farming, diplomacy, trade, economics. Some medical information, and he refined my own ability to cast healing magic." 

"You can use the magic of life?" Halgier turned to me fully, "No matter what the College of Welkford says, that is a rare gift. What are the extents of your ability?" 

"I couldn't cure what took my Mother." The memory washed over me, unprompted, unwanted. Like a rain storm on a bright sunny day.

We were nearly out of the Forest by the time someone said anything again. Only the engines humming away, out of sync with the puffs of breath in the cold morning air. Trying to put the memory out of my mind, trying to think about anything else. Gjorn spoke up. "I'm willing to venture this Sorcerer wore long flowing robes, decorated with those same odd runes?" 

His voice shook me out of the noise of the Boar's feet on the ground. Absorbed in listening to the world around me, breaking me from my painful reverie. "I, what? Yes." I said covering all my bases. 

The City walls loomed higher and higher as we drew closer, even out here in the Outer Fields. I felt odd. Farmers and their families watched as we passed, more than a few pointing toward me in particular. "I'll have to follow up on that," He muttered to himself. Turning to me proper, "But, I am also interested in this healing ability of yours. Most can do some amount of it, but many cannot do more than close shallow cuts and surface bruises. True healers in this world are indeed rare." 

"I don't know what you are looking for? I suppose I don't know what you are asking? My Mother and all the priestesses could heal even the worst damage to our raiders. As long as we get to them in time, I've done my fair share of healing the clan." The confused look on my face apparently had no effect on Gjorn. 

"So you don't know how the wider world quantifies power. That's fine. That is something I can teach quickly. But why don't you tell me about the largest group of raiders you had to heal? Please go into detail about their injuries and what you did. I reckon someone like you remembers their actions quite well." He encouraged. 

So I told them about the day Yorm brought back nearly his entire raiding party, injured in some form or another. The longer I went on, the more wide-eyed they got. I told them about Myra and the rib that had punctured her lung. The raider whose eye had popped as my magic repaired it. The relentless effort I went into healing them all until I blew up at Yorm, even telling them about my regret for having left the clan just to clear my head when I should have stayed. Lamenting that I could have saved more. 

"There is no saving everyone. No matter how hard you try. That raider, Gorah. You cannot blame yourself for failing to save those who needed more time. What an unbelievable amount of souls you saved. What was that, seventy? Seventy raiders you healed? Maybe not completely, but enough to get them back on their feet?" One of the guards behind me spoke, Halgier nodding in agreement. While Gjorn looked shocked at the number. 

"That was not something I expected to learn." Gjorn started, "A Domain of Air, a clearly powerful foundation in medicine. Your voice is strong, Ilgor. Mixing your prayers and magic was a good tactic, clunky mechanically. But, the chanting did have the effect I was anticipating." He finished as we were saluted by the Guards I had once so feared, passing under the gates of Glaion. 

"I suppose I should also mention that I reflexively heal myself whenever I take a hit in a fight. I would spar with the Sorcerer quite frequently; he was an inhuman swordsman, which would be the best description. Faster than me, more precise, like he'd know what I was going to do before I even did. He taught me to heal myself during these fights, telling me that no one else would give me the chance should it happen." Telling them while I adjusted one of the plates over my kidneys. 

"You can heal yourself?" Halgier sounded shocked again, "That isn't something that should be possible. From my understanding of the healers, taking your own magic and healing your own life should reduce the number of years you have left to live by decades each time you do it. But, you've done this countless times now."

"I didn't think it was that impressive." Sheepishly turning to look out at the crowd, only to see them staring at us all. A dazzling array of colors flashed by as we passed the market square on our way to the palatial grounds in the middle of the city.

"Abilities and out of this world expectations," Gjorn started, still trying to get the awe out of his own voice. "I'll have to work with you more on all this. Whoever this Sorcerer was, he certainly did give you a world class education on many things. I'm only sorry he sounded like a truly brutal mentor. Not even our harshest instructors are allowed to, essentially, torture their students."

Letting the quiet hang over the group as I felt that the conversation should be done being centered around me. I knew the section of the city we were passing through now, we tried to avoid the highest traffic areas like the market when we came here. The Artists Quarter, they called it, soft music fluttering through the air, painters brushing away the world before them. An impressive amount of variety in the buildings, vaulted arches, intricate buttresses, and flowing lattice work, anywhere the eyes wandered, was something new to see. 

The statues to the Forgotten Family passed to the right, noticing the barkeeper who had spoken to Ghet, Hob, and me. Seeing the recognition in his eyes at me, more amazed that he even did so. We were wearing those ridiculous Gnome getups at the time. But I turned my attention back to the statues again, wondering if they'd look at me once more. I still felt that I hadn't imagined that, that day.

"Halgier," Gjorn commented as the small crowd at the front of our line parted for us. "Have I ever told you about the caverns beneath this section of the city?" 

"The ones that these artists steal their paint from?" He answered, "You've mentioned them a few times before."

"Ah, well." Scratching the back of his head, "Well, there was a new spillage in the last few years, a bright pink that has taken some of the artist's fancy. Makes a wonderful sunrise, the Guard has stopped trying to arrest anyone who enters the caverns these days."

"That is good news; trying to stifle the arts like that is heretical." Though I could even tell that Halgeir wasn't interested in the conversation. I wondered if there were more caverns under the city; maybe I'd have to explore more. That is, if I could rid myself of these guards and my own. Laughing to myself, I supposed some things would never change, as the old habit of not doing what I'm told drifted through my mind. 

The street opened up into a wide common area, a large fountain bereft of ice and water as it wasn't flowing in the chilly winter air. This grand courtyard, overseen by a massive tower that had become familiar with Hob and my information gathering excursions. We never had a reason to look around it at the time, but I couldn't help but notice the massive tree motif on its sides. The high, curved roof refused to hold onto any snow like the Palace next to it did. 

Staring at it for long enough that I had to shake my head to focus on the world around me again. Turning, I saw Gjorn staring up at one of the outer walls of the tower. Following his eyes, a woman was sitting there, with bright eyes of emerald fire even at this distance. "The Wayfare Guild." His voice startled me, looking back where the woman had been, she was gone. "The tower was built several hundred years ago. In their courtyard is the Portal Nexus. It connects the other six Nexus across the continent, maintained by the local God's Eye's. Ostensibly, it functions as a mass transit system for the people of the Federation, though the one in The Spire on Mhuzelt has been shut down for the last few decades." 

I knew that name, the Wayfares. Halgier had mentioned them when he first came to the village. The place Gjorn had an inordinate amount of connections with now, wasn't it? "Mhuzelt is the home of the Gnomes, if I remember correctly," I asked him. 

"Yes and no, it's a matter of debate. It is also our home as well, though we have been exiled from our ancestral homeland since the Hammer Strike." Gjorn answered, "There is someone in there I wish you to meet at a later time, eager girl. I believe you just got a glimpse of her, didn't you? She isn't as subtle as I wish her to be." 

"That woman with the emerald eyes?" The observation earned me a nod. "Who was she?" It was almost as if they had set this up for her to be seen by me.

"God's Eye's Odeza. The highest ranking member of the Glaion chapter of the guild. She is also the one maintaining the Nexus, several of them actually." He adjusted himself in the saddle to reach into a bag at his side, pulling a book from the massive pocket.

"She is certainly a character," Halgier commented. "One of the most arrogant women I've ever met, not a care in the world. Doesn't give much credence to rank and title either." 

"Well, it's in her blood." Gjorn's comment made me wonder what he meant. She didn't seem entirely human to me, unsure of how I came to that conclusion. More of a hunch than anything else, something about her eyes, they seemed like they knew far too much. Like a hawk who was simply waiting, not worried about what route the sparrow would take. I would have to ask him more later; he'd thrown me into this without so much as a warning. Then again, he reminded me of the Sorcerer in ways. 

There was no peace the second we entered the Palatial grounds. The King's own guard falling in rank behind the Dwarves, swinging on soundless hinges, the great gates to the Palace were shut behind us. A man I recognized was giving orders to his men as we neared, the front guard dismounting in front of him. That man, I had put my saber to his neck on that day. He let us go when we walked out of the city, now here he was once more. I noticed he was missing the star on his shoulder since the last time. 

Halgier and Gjorn dismounted as I adjusted the dress to let myself down. It got caught on one of the buckles to the saddle, eyes going wide as I slid uncontrolled from the thing. A heavy grunt later, Halgier had caught me; his arms felt like trees around me. A lot more solid than I was expecting, "Now, your Grace, you should watch your step." I felt my face grow warm as the realization that several dozen people had just watched me fall.

With a gentle motion, he put me back on my feet. "Are you alright, Governor Ilgor?" The man had asked me, his military uniform far too familiar. 

"Yes, thank you, Captain Michéle," I responded, not quite remembering his actual title. Halgier and Gjorn gave me a strange look. "We have met before. One pleasant exchange, the other..."

"Was an event we will not discuss here, Governor. It is Chancellor, your Grace, not Captain." He said, unconsciously adjusting his collar where my saber's edge cut him. "I hope your passage here was uneventful. A wonderful day, all things considered; however, we do have another guest who will be joining us as well. If you'd follow me." He bowed to us, extending an arm out in the direction he wished us to go. 

"My apologies, Chancellor. I meant no offense." I was trying to copy his tone, far more stuffy than I was used to. One of the chamber maids behind him did a little bob while holding the sides of her dress, repeating it several times while looking at me. Gjorn poked a finger in my back, copying her motion quickly. 

He popped back up, a genuine smile on his face, "None taken, your Grace. I understand that you are not accustomed to the Culture of Galus, or any other human nation."

"Yes, and we are here to see the King, Michéle. Not discuss the innocent ignorances of this world." Gjorn put a bit more emphasis on innocent than I would have expected. The comment, however, wiped the smile off his face, as he placed his hands behind his back and walked toward the keep, beckoning us to follow. 

The Guard remained behind, tending to the great beasts, shooing away the first quartermaster after the behemoth slashed a tusk at him. Though four of them did follow us, trading their rifles for tall poleaxes. The massive brass doors of the keep swung open noiselessly, though the din that came out of the chamber was nearly deafening to me. My ears reflexively went flat against my head, dampening it somewhat. 

Gjorn eyed the movement; they all did. This was suddenly very uncomfortable; my dress, despite feeling like a second skin earlier, now felt like pins and needles. Consciously trying to keep my hand from drifting to rest on the handle of the saber. I couldn't shake the feeling that this was a dangerous situation, my entire life hidden from the eyes of man. To walk here, hiding nothing to mark me as a Goblin, felt strange. 

Passing through the door changed the pitch of the cacophony; I could at least make out human voices now, though still entirely too loud. The high vaulted ceiling reminded me of the caves, countless lanterns burning on every pillar and wall in flameless light. Arcane arcs of power running through them, stained glass windows from floor to ceiling, casting kaleidoscopes of color across the white marble floors in the mid-morning light. The nauseating amount of noise was coming from a room further ahead. Eyes darting from side chamber to chamber as humans wandered in and out of them, carrying plates of food and drink. 

Someone set their hand on my shoulder, making me jump. "What's wrong?" Gjorn whispered. 

"It's too loud, it's making me not be able to concentrate on anything," I whispered back at him. 

"It's not that loud. I can barely hear the noise from the Ballroom." There was a bit of concern in his voice as a light came on in his eyes. "Ah, my apologies. You are a different species from all of us here. Let me show you a trick." His voice filled the room for the briefest of moments, only to concentrate around us entirely. The noise vanished almost entirely, my ears opening back up on their own. "Focus your voice outward, use it to command the air around you. Use your own music to drown out these discordant notes, allow only those speaking to you be heard."

His voice vanished from the room as we neared the next open door, the wall of noise crashing down around me once more. My own soft humming filled the space as his did, pulling it back. Making it calm the vibrations in the air, it really didn't take much effort at all. Gjorn tapped me on the shoulder, though his lips moved, I didn't hear any sound. Changing the pitch of the song slightly, his voice came into focus. "Really are something else."

The smile on his face was infectious, as apparently only Halgier had noticed what had happened. "I can hear my name coming from several different voices in the room ahead of us." 

"Change the pitch again, only let it catch your attention when someone is actually speaking to you, not just anything relevant to you." His voice filled the room once more to let me hear the song again. I was just a little off-key from him. Adjusting the notes, an octave down, a crescendo I hadn't noticed. It worked exactly like his down. "Wonderful!"

I smiled as everything felt quite a bit better, not bombarded by so many noises. My skin not so ready to react to the world anymore. "Thank you, Gjorn." 

"Make no mention of it, though I do wonder why you are having such a hard time in here when out in the busy streets of the city, you were fine." He said, patting me on the back. Not used to having an encouraging teacher, it made me blush.  

"You Casters are something else," Halgier commented, though he tried to hide his smile too. "I suppose your species would have a harder time with sound. Those ears are like radio dishes, aren't they? Well, this place is built like an amphitheater; it makes sense."

"I've never tried to figure out how far away we can hear," I said as we entered the room. Though I didn't need my magic to know that the room just went silent as we were spotted. Like a wave, people turned to look, some bowing. To me, only moving their lips with that title Miss Beezelt used, Majestet. Many more stared at me, their eyes trying to memorize everything about me. 

Just as quickly as it died, it picked back up again. Clusters of these humans formed as they kept looking back at us. Still, Michéle walked on, paying them no attention, our Guard undaunted by the commotion either. Halgier looked back at me, while Gjorn did much the same. Raising my chin a little higher, chest forward, the way Mother taught me to when addressing the Chief. Pride in my steps, I was not something to be meek and shy away from challenges. “I am the High Priestess of the Clan, I am the Chief of all my Raiders, let them not forget that.”

Changed the pitch of the song so that it snagged the attention of everyone who heard it, despite it being barely audible to even Gjorn. If they wanted a look, let them, am I so interesting that you cannot think of anything else? Even Michéle wasn't immune to it, smirking at him as he turned his head to look at me. 

Gjorn chuckled when he realized what I was doing. Silencing only part of my magic, the part that I was having fun with. I was unaware that aspects of magic could be silenced; my understanding made it an all or nothing type of situation. "Chancellor," He turned his ears toward Halgier, who had spoken. "Who is this other guest?"

"Ah, well," He made that same bow he did earlier, gesturing us inside the next room. One that made me pause. "We do not know why, but The Grave Bell has made an appearance today." 

Even as he said it, I recognized Talia's giggle as Azorez sat next to her. Stationed behind a decadent table of some dark wood I didn't know, a throne of polished brass sat at the head of the rotunda of a table. Talia waved at us, Azorez rising to give a courtly bow that seemed wrong when she did so. The Chancellor eyed us as the child gave us such a familiar greeting, "The King will join us shortly. Fortunately for Governor Ilgor, the Nobility will not be participating in this discussion. We wished for her to be slightly more comfortable, having the constant questions of bored and curious nobles would only cause stress, we don't wish to impart."

Both the Kings nodded to Michéle as they guided me toward the table Azorez and her little girl were sitting at. The Chancellor took a position just off to the right of the throne at the head of the table. Talia ran up to me, giving me a hug. "Illy that's so pretty!" She quickly bleated out, running her hand through the frills around my neck.

"Thank you, Talia, it's a surprise to see you two here." The Chancellor cocked his head at the interaction.

"Darling, perhaps we should wait until Uncle Lucas comes," Azorez said, patting the chair next to her. While she whined, she went back to her chair, the Necromancer putting her massive hat on the girl's head. Her face instantly disappeared beneath the thing. "Majestet Gjorn, Halgier."

"We weren't expecting you here, Grave Bell," Halgier said, sitting down opposite the throne. 

"Well, I couldn't help but think my presence would help somewhat. Besides, there are things I need to discuss with her Grace. Things I think would benefit from being heard by more than just us." She said cryptically. 

Though my own question was cut short as another door opened, Lucas Berthelot strided in. I expected him to be wearing some lavishly flamboyant outfit, a crown studded with jewels, a ring on every finger. Yet, he looked remarkably forgettable with that cold iron crown on his head. A simple pleated gambeson, dark leather boots, and a jacket that hung to his knees. Maybe I had let the events of when I had first met him cloud my judgment. He was in full armor then, surrounded by his officers, an army at his back. "Ah, if it isn't our subject of conversation. Governor Ilgor. It's a pleasure to see you again." 

Gjorn and Halgier frowned at his words, "Your excellency." Were the only words I gave him, something about the Dwarves' reactions made me think I shouldn't trust him. 

"Well, let's skip the pleasantries for once, ladies and gentlemen. I want my answers now, Majestet Gjorn. I wanted a better answer as I said in the Sultan's Palace, and you will answer me now." There was real venom in his words. I wasn't expecting it. 

"Demanding now aren't we, Boy," Gjorn responded, setting his elbows down on the table, steepling his fingers together. Lucas ignored the comment while he continued. "I told you already. You will not retaliate against the Goblin tribe as they are under my protection now." 

"You gave this woman a position of authority; you took territory that was rightfully mine. There was no trade; there was nothing given in exchange. Why shouldn't I treat this like what it is, an invasion that annexed part of my country?" The rest didn't need to be said; the threat was there. 

"You are welcome to try, by the look I was given of how your soldiers acquit themselves, my men would be able to roll over your forces without any issue. Tell me why I shouldn't take Willowbrook next, maybe Port De Renard?" My own eyes went wide at that. 

Lucas was silent for a moment before answering, whispering something to the Chancellor before returning to the Dwarves. "What would be your benefit? You've already exposed a vulnerability in my nation by flaunting your new 'territory' to the Sultan. You've introduced a weak point that could easily be taken without my protection. Why would you want to conquer more, just have it so vulnerable against attack from a nation we both know is more than willing to do so?" 

"As you said, without your protection, it introduces a wonderful launch platform for the Caliphate to launch their own invasion from, without having to fight through Huron's bulwark, or your own borders and their defenses. Now, why would I have you expose this weakness?" Gjorn responded with an eerie coolness to his voice. 

"So you would just sacrifice these Goblins you claim to protect, just to spite me?" I looked over to the two Dwarves, worry now creeping into my soul. 

"Halgier, what was it I said to you before I challenged Lucas's authority over the Goblins?" The ice in his voice was only more solid. 

"I believe you said that you would allow no harm to them. That you were sickened by King Berthelot's disregard for his own treaty with them, as he threatened to have them slaughtered because the Sultan wouldn't accept their Chief's head as recompense. Gjorn's decision to do this is fully backed by my clan." Halgier added with a heat in his voice that I wasn't expecting either. Apparently, a day of many firsts, as I turned my own angry eyes to Lucas. 

"Are my people just a tool to be used here? Do our lives count for nothing in your games? Both of you." I couldn't keep the power from my voice as the air in the room rumbled with the force. "Lucas, you gave me your word that there would be no retaliation as long as we no longer raided and stole from the lands. We signed a treaty!" 

"I will admit, I let my anger at the Sultan's refusal get the better of me." He made a placating gesture toward the rest of the table. "Perhaps we should begin this conversation again. I apologize for the previous heat in my words. Let us return to a more productive area of conversation." He said, looking me in the eyes as he said it. 

"Very well, let's try this again," Gjorn spoke as he crossed his arms. 

Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself down. "Why do the Goblins need to be protected. Aside from my own," Me paused just long enough for me to notice he was choosing his words carefully. "Erroneous statements. What prompted you to step in and challenge the Nation of Galus's sovereignty?"  

"They are a key national asset that I cannot allow to be exterminated." Was all Gjorn responded with, it piqued my own interest. Looking away from Lucas with hateful eyes, back to the Dwarves. 

"You are going to need to be more specific," Lucas responded dryly. 

"There is a certain individual in the clan that needs to be protected. As they harbor information and abilities that would be beneficial to several parties. As for the rest of the clan, they are few in number, and I would be rather uncouth to allow their culture and species to die off as a result of something so mundane as a war." He answered slowly. 

"I am assuming Ilgor is your person of interest. You wouldn't have bothered giving her power if it were otherwise. She was already a surprise in her own right, but to have you do this makes things far more suspicious than clearing things up. What abilities does she possess that make you threaten an ally?" He retorted. 

"I cannot answer that." 

"Is this about your damned Queen again?!" Lucas yelled, losing his composure again, making Talia jump. 

Michéle put his hand on the King's shoulder. "Perhaps, your excellency, a glass of wine." The deliberation halted just long enough for a servant to bring everyone a glass at the table. While Talia was given a plate of food instead, puckering her nose as she smelled what was in Azorez's glass. I at least appreciated the distraction of the wine while I shot daggers at these Kings. 

"To answer your question, yes. Governor Ilgor is entirely in the interest of other benefactors. I wish to retain my connections, as well as several other benefits, for my country. Beyond that, I will not go into any further detail." Gjorn finally answered after having pushed the glass aside. 

"Fine, lips tighter than a banker's purse. I want to know why I should let you take sovereign territory from me, however. What benefit do I get out of this? I wish to remain in good relations with the Dwarves. But, this is an overreach I will not permit without something in return." Lucas responded, swirling the red liquid in his glass. 

"What do you think would be a fair price? I have already established two armies inside the Goblin's territory. I have already begun spending on infrastructure and public spending on their benefit." Halgier answered instead of Gjorn. "Mhuzchet is already satisfied with our answers, and is more than happy to continue supplying our efforts with anything we need."

"What do you mean by the Goblin's territory? It is all my land." Lucas answered. Suddenly turning his eyes to me. "Bring me a map, I want to see what you think you have claimed." The Chancellor brought a map out with a pen. Lucas immediately handed it to me. "Tell me where your people roamed. I want to know just how much is being kept from me." 

Eyeing both Halgier and Gjorn, who nodded for me to continue. "We claimed this territory as our prowling and hunting grounds." I followed the lines of the escarpments inside the Ancient Forest, watching as Lucas's eyes widened at the amount of distance we actually patrolled. "The Harpy brood to the northwest contested us for this." I hashed out a sizeable area just south of the Outer Fields, south of the lake they called Le Fond Lac. I put X's down on places we definitively conquered from various local tribes, like the Kobolds, the Serpent men that now no longer existed thanks to us. The Red Mountain. 

"We have laid claim to this territory," Gjorn stated, finally taking a drink from his wine. 

"Absolutely not," Lucas answered. "That amount of territory cuts off all access over land to my southern cities, as well as the mountain pass to Fort De Ombre. Some of this even cuts into our farming land to the south. Perhaps I should have been paying more attention to them, Mich." Flicking my eyes up to him, he had a self-satisfied smirk. "Let us discuss this." 

Gjorn only raised his glass, waiting to hear what he would say. "I need access to my southern cities. As well as the pass to the other side of the mountains. I cannot allow you take an entire slice out of my nation like this." He turned to me, asking me directly, "Your people traditionally raided my people for anything they had. Now that you have outlawed that practice. How are you feeding your village?"

"We are already planting farmland in cleared-out sections of the forest immediately adjacent to the village. For now, I have hunters bringing game back to the Family, and we are riding off our residual stock from our past efforts." I didn't see any need to hide such basic information from him. 

"What is the amount of area you would need to sustain yourself for the next few years. You no longer patrol my roads, you no longer contest other beasts of the wood, as that will now be the duty of your protectors to defend your walls. You no longer need to defend your borders from outside threats. What is the minimum amount of land you need?" His questions sounded odd, like he was trying to get me to say something I shouldn't. I didn't enjoy being played like this. 

Gjorn interjected over me, as the first words I said were drowned out by him. "Ilgor, before you answer that, let me have a look at this map. Can you add where your highest areas of raiding took place first?" Jotting down the areas where all three of the raiding parties had consistent success.

Lucas frowned as he watched me do so, Michéle only nodding his head as if this was all old news to him. The map was handed over to the Dwarves, who discussed things quietly enough that the other humans couldn't hear, but me? No, I heard them loud and clear, wondering if that was their intent. "We need to give up something, let them have the pass and the main roads, the territory to the west isn't useful to us," Halgier said.

Gjorn responded, "You're right, while we are supplying them now, we won't want to keep this up forever. We want to make the city self-sufficient eventually, so we will need to expand their farms by at least eight times to account for our armies and their own population growth. Beyond that, we might as well start the animal husbandry now. Their hunting will be helpful temporarily." 

Lucas watched my ears twitch with their words, apparently figuring out I could hear them, but not saying anything. Halgier spoke next, "Fine, keep the forest and land to the south where the land is flatter up top; the rocky shoreline will provide excellent defense against any shoring activity. The Forest up to the main road, we won't mention the massive cave systems that span under the whole damned thing. That ought to allow them to retain fishing rights along the coast, and enough game for us to set up a true agricultural industry." 

Gjorn turned back to Lucas, making some quick additions to the map, handing it to the King. "No, I appreciate that you are handing free passage back to me, but this area to the North encompasses the Outer Fields. If you will give that up, I will give a further reach out into the Western Channel and along the Azure Coast." 

Gjorn smiled, "How about we keep the lands to the north of the village, but just not outside the Forest? We would be more than willing to make some further agreements with providing Galus with military assistance in this coming war."

"You may keep up to the Emerald Creek." He countered. 

"You have a deal, Lucas, we will cede this territory to you in exchange for the laid out territory to the west, north, and south," Gjorn answered, his smile just faint enough to play it off. 

"I have one final matter to discuss," Azorez interjected. "Seeing as you all have come to an agreement, this seems as good a time to bring this up. I am requesting an official pardon on behalf of the Goblins; their past crimes will be forgiven under my request." 

"What?" Lucas seemed genuinely dumbstruck.

"I will not have you attempt to undermine their legality when they eventually expand out into more human settlements. I have a vested interest in the Clan at this point." She answered with her thin, wispy voice.

"How do you have a vested interest in their people? I was unaware that you had even left Skjalich since your journey to Estile to meet with Sage Von Eule." He retorted.

"I have been in their village for the last week or so. My interest is in their burial practices. They aren't necromancy, but they can commune with their dead to a degree I haven't seen in any other culture. Beyond that, there is a spirit directly tied to Governor Ilgor, which I wish to spend quite a bit of time examining. I have already sent for the Sages to join me there; this will have their interest as Ilgor also used four Archon Stones, combating your delinquent forces." She didn't hide her derision in that last statement. 

"You hold a special place on the world stage. This also puts me in a bad position with the Sages coming." Lucas answered slowly. 

"Then I suggest you honor my request. If you obstruct my investigations into the Clan, I will make it difficult for you to form tighter connections with both Estile and Huron as well as the Northern Wastes." She retorted, I didn't realize she was this important in the world. 

He ran a hand over his face, a long, drawn out sigh exited his lips before he answered. "Fine."