<a class="postlink" href="https://creativefreedomrpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=20&amp;t=44015&amp;p=240931#p240931">The OOC</a><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 125%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="text-decoration: underline">Soluunar</span></span></span><br/><br/><br/>As Barth approached the large Lebi camp, wondering if he was once again simply wasting his time, he saw a single, armored man approaching from a distance. Although the sun wouldn't be rising for at least a few more hours, he had only to see the numerous marks and dents adorning the man's attire to know it was one of his own.<br/><br/>"The meeting has already begun, my Prince," the soldier said with a deferential lowering of his head. Barth grunted, scanning the camp for the largest of the canvas tents, which he located after just a couple of seconds as it stood out sharply compared to the others. He walked towards it, entering the camp's perimeter and passing a cluster of guards, who watched him amble past without acknowledging him. They knew who he was, but they obviously had no intention of showing him any recognition or respect. Which was fine by him, truth be told.<br/><br/>Barth could hear shouts and raised voices before he even reached the large brown tent; before ducking under the flaps, he paused long enough to release a long, slow sigh of exhaustion. Every moment spent with the Lebis was as trying as any battlefield. Perhaps even worse, since battle at least offered the chance to silence one's adversaries with a well timed sweep of a blade.<br/><br/><br/>"I will not be spoken to like I am some peasant! I am King Paetar Krinwulf," Barth heard his father spit as he straightened up inside the warm enclosure, "and you will give me the respect I deserve."<br/><br/>"Aye, a King, minus a nation! Did you drag your throne with you, Krinwulf?" asked one of the Lebi lords, a man named Shalerin, if Barth remembered correctly. "Or shall we build you a new one? We have some scraps we could put together."<br/><br/>Paetar opened his mouth, furious, but closed it when he saw his son approaching the table. The others followed his eyes and spotted the newcomer as well.<br/><br/>Around the large, circular table there were six men seated, five of them representing Lebidan. The King sat in the center, with two of his Lords on either side of him. Barth dimly recalled there being one more Lord, but he wasn't bothered by the man's absence. One of these Lebi royals would have been more than enough for him, let alone all five of them. For the Lindenian side, there was only Barth and the older Krinwulf.<br/><br/>Barth watched the King, Thorin Sgaran Sahir, with his curly brown beard and the jeweled circlet sitting atop his long, thinning hair, and wondered if the fat man (his stomach was enormous) had ever lifted a sword in his life. He saw the jeweled pommel at Sahir's waist and decided the weapon was simply for show. He glanced resentfully at his father in turn, and at the tarnished silver hilt at the side of the much skinnier King of Linden.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00"><span style="font-style: italic">Neither king would be much use on the field,</span> </span>he decided,<span style="color: #FFFF00"><span style="font-style: italic">but at least the Lebi has some wealth to flaunt. No wonder these men look down on us so.</span></span><br/><br/>The king watched him interestedly, but it was the lord to his right who spoke first. It was one of the ones he didn't know.<br/><br/>"Young Barth, I'm told you possess more brains than your father. I pray that is true, because otherwise I don't see these negotiations going anywhere."<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00"><span style="font-style: italic">No wonder father requested my presence this time. It is clear he is no match for these men. </span><br/></span><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">"I am smart enough to have fought in many battles without dying," </span>he replied evenly as he reached them,<span style="color: #FFFF00">"judge that as you will." </span><br/><br/>When no one answered right away, he took advantage of the silence to continue.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">"Do any of you know what is coming? Because I do. I have seen it. I have faced it. Your politics and your insults will not throw back the forest of black steel that is coming to your doorstep. I have seen your men- they wear the finest gear, polished so brightly it is painful to look at in the sunlight. But for every one of them that might be of some use, there are fifty more that wouldn't last a second in front of a Tutari horde."<br/></span><br/>One of the Lebi lords opened his mouth angrily but the Prince moved forward and slammed his gauntleted fist down onto the table, cutting him off.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">"Yes, the same argument you've been carrying on for the last two days! You believe you are giving us too much, allowing our people to take shelter in your country, allowing us to use your resources. Our nation is in shambles, our lands ruined, our castles broken, and as such we need you. But make no mistake, lords of Lebidan. You need us too. Without our men you would fold. All of you. The Tutar would destroy you without breaking a sweat."<br/></span><br/>"Aye, and your men are so superior?" asked the Lord that had addressed him first. "They aren't even men! I heard you like to take your girlfriends with you to the front lines. What could an army of<span style="font-style: italic">females</span>possibly teach my knights?"<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">"My lieutenants have faced horrors you'd soil your pants just thinking about, <span style="font-style: italic">My Lord</span>,"</span>Barth shot back, his anger starting to bubble towards the surface. He could see a smirk on his father's face, but he wasn't concerned with the man's approval. He was defending the people he fought alongside. The only people he cared about.<span style="color: #FFFF00">"They have earned their place, time and time again, and without them perhaps I would not be standing here dealing with your insufferable ignorance." </span><br/><br/>The offended lord began to rise to his feet, but stopped when the Lebi King seated to his left raised a hand.<br/><br/>"Peace, Garmind," he said softly as the man sat back down. "The Prince speaks harshly, but I do not believe him to be dishonest. His men have faced the Tutar again and again, and they have emerged victorious each time. He is no politician, but I do not doubt his prowess on the battlefield. Nor do I question the confidence he has in his soldiers."<br/><br/>He turned to look on either side of him, and seeing no opposition from the Lebi lords he rose from his chair with a smile, extending his hand to Paetar, who rose as well and grasped it immediately. "Our alliance is formed, then," the King of Lebidan said, still smiling. Barth could see a look of immense relief on the face of his father, but he also saw that the Lebi king's smile did not extend to his eyes. They remained hard and calculating as they turned to regard the younger of the Krinwulfs.<br/><br/>"I would like for you and your officers to confer with my knights. I have selected a small committee from within their ranks to lead the battle preparations moving forward. There is much for you all to discuss, I am sure. In the meanwhile, we will work with your father here to get your people settled in as quickly as possible. They are now under the protection of Lebidan," he added with an overly friendly widening of his grin, as if to drive it home that Linden needed him much more than he needed it.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">"Yeah, great, thanks,"</span>Barth said as he turned and made for the tent flaps, deciding he needed to get out of there before his temper got the better of him. He straightened up in the much cooler air outside, frowning as he began making his way back to the smaller Lindenian camp. His lieutenants were probably going to be displeased when they found out who they were meeting with, assuming he could track them down anyway. They hadn't been in camp when he left for the meeting.<br/><br/>As he crossed the larger camp's outer perimeter again, this time moving in the direction of the small watchfires dotting his own camp, he prayed the knights of Lebidan were not as arrogant as their overlords.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00"><span style="font-style: italic">If they are, this alliance may be an exceptionally short-lived one,</span></span>he thought grimly.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_</span><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 125%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="text-decoration: underline">Upper Regions</span></span></span><br/><br/><br/>Lorkhan ran a hand through his pale blond hair, his eyes fixed on the smooth wooden table in front of him.<span style="color: #00BFFF">"Lorkhan,"</span>Rolyn said from the end of the table where he sat,<span style="color: #00BFFF">"it has been three days. Surely you've come to some kind of decision by now?" </span><br/><br/>The God of Light licked his lips and looked up for a moment before shaking his head to either side by the tiniest of fractions and looking down again. Rolyn sighed in spite of himself, unable to hide the disappointment he was experiencing. Every day that went by without some kind of decision was another victory for the other side- such was the nature of his position.<br/><br/>"What a shame, Skyhand," Malinar said calmly from the opposite end of the table, the same place he'd been sitting during their Conclaves for countless millennia. "It seems that we once again cannot reach a consensus. Conclave adjourned until next time, then?" he asked with a grim smile as Lorkhan and Freiya both rose from their seats and watched Rolyn expectantly. The Circle's Conclaves could only end if word was given by the two Eldest members.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BFFF">"Very well. Adjourned." </span><br/><br/>Lorkhan left quickly, as was his custom, but Freiya lingered long enough to offer Rolyn a brief nod of farewell before following in his wake. On top of her cold, distant demeanor, the Goddess of Nature was usually in opposition of him, but the woman never let things get personal. Rolyn had to give her that much.<br/><br/>Malinar finally stood up and looked from Rolyn to Valiya, his smile widening. "Always ready to do battle for Rolyn, aren't you? Always in support of his… noble causes?"<br/><br/>Heartsong smiled back at Malinar, her pale face beneath the fiery red hair revealing nothing of what she was feeling. "Regarding this issue I believe him to be right, and so I place my Faith in him. A choice that is<span style="font-style: italic">mine</span>to make, Malinar."<br/><br/>He nodded, the grin still fixed on his face as if it had been carved there. He twitched his head ever so slightly, shifting aside the lock of reddish brown hair that was partially blocking one of his pale brown eyes. "It is. Whether or not it is the<span style="font-style: italic">correct</span>choice, however, remains to be seen."<br/><br/>He made his way to the exit, where he stopped just as Freiya had done. Unlike her, however, he had more than just a nod to offer. The smile was gone from his face as he stared at Rolyn, one hand on the door. "It is not our job to babysit humanity. You claim to be burdened with the prayers of the dying, Skyhand. Well if they bother you so much, perhaps you should stop listening."<br/><br/>With that he was gone, shutting the door loudly behind him. Now alone with the Goddess of Faith, Rolyn rubbed his eyes wearily, feeling Valiya's eyes on him.<br/><br/>"Many pray, Rolyn. Few are heard. It is good that you listen."<br/><br/>Agitated, he finally looked back at her, meeting her steady gaze with his own, exasperated version.<span style="color: #00BFFF"> "And what good is listening when I can do nothing? Every day we fail to come to a decision is another day closer to the end of humanity. An end to prayer and to hope."</span><br/><br/>"Mankind has endured, before," she replied, watching him closely now that he was finally looking at her. "What is to say they cannot do so now?"<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BFFF">"Something is different this time,"</span>he said softly, as if thinking out loud.<span style="color: #00BFFF"> "Something is unnatural. The Tutar should not be so strong, yet they are. They have amassed a force that is ultimately unstoppable. Soluunar will soon be drowned in the blood of man." </span><br/><br/>She frowned, suddenly appearing uncertain. "An overcorrection of the balance? The Tutar were pushed to the brink of extinction long ago, while mankind thrived and prospered. Perhaps this is simply the wheel of fate, turning back around."<br/><br/>He grunted, unconvinced.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BFFF">"If it were so, I would not be plagued with doubt as I am. But perhaps my wisdom fails me. Perhaps Malinar has the right of it,"</span>he said bitterly as he examined the hands he held clasped on the table in front of him.<br/><br/>She smiled, patting him gently on the shoulder as she rose from her chair, the same one she always sat on, directly to his right. "I've known you for a long time, Rolyn, and I know when you truly believe something. Which is why I will not agree with such a notion."<br/><br/>She left him alone, then, and he listened to her leave without looking up from the hands he continued to study. She left the door open behind her, so he could see the beautiful day awaiting him outside the small stone building that was composed of just the one room. The Hall of the Circle it was called, although given its size it hardly qualified as a hall.<br/><br/>Hearing voices raised in conversation he finally looked up, seeing figures moving around outside. They spoke in carefree tones as they walked upon the smooth white marble, reflecting the atmosphere throughout the Upper Regions, which, as usual, was one of leisure and comfort. And peace. They did not feel the weight of Soluunar on their shoulders. They did not take on the burdens of the world below.<br/><br/>Finally, with a groan that was more based on frustration than fatigue, Rolyn stood up and made his way outside, blinking in the clear sunlight, staring around at the unblemished white structures around him with little interest. A light breeze was blowing; it was cool and refreshing, and pushed his silver hair back out of his face. It was a welcome change from the stuffiness within the Hall, but it did little to help his mood.<br/><br/>There was a large garden nearby he liked to walk through when he was troubled; he decided he would go there next, since at the moment his mind was anything but at peace.