Forging a Blade of Peace [Ceaden/CLOSED]

[Carbarosia]

A generation had since passed since the ancestors of Volshikkur had bestowed any serenity upon another nation. This was for a significant reason, during the time of despair, a ruthless tyrant sat upon the throne of Volshikkur. His mind was isolated and so was the corrupt nation he lead. The tyrant defied the 'The Daedra Princes', ransacked the monasteries for their valuable loot including: gold, artifacts, jewels and much more. However, the populace roared up, revolting to the tyrannical leader. Upon reaching the palace of Drakoth, the rebellion found the leader, they threw him into the crowds surrounding the palace. They tore his limbs of his body blood painting the angered faces of the crowd. Blood sprayed from his decapitated head and a screaming expression was still left on his face. Soon, leader of the rebellion, Clacivus Mehrune, sat upon the throne. A true leader of Volshikkur once more.

The rugged mountains pierced the sky, crevices and ledges protruding outwards and pushing inside. Debris fell from the top crashing down the mountain face, dislodging loose rocks as they fell. The mountain was exorbitant and spanned across many miles. The mountain top was covered in a thick blanket of snow, of which the impression of footsteps and horse-drawn carriages are left dented into it. The snow covered the harsh, barren mountain-top underneath and ice stayed strong and firm and clutched to the snow, stopping it from falling off.

Blasts of wind flurried the snow up into the air and whipped it around in a frenzy, being flung into the faces of passing travellers. A thin fog rolled in across the snowy hills, cradled on top of the mountains. Small wooden shacks were visible, yet obscure through the thin fog, with the wooden roofs piercing through. Lanterns lit upon wooden posts lined the large stone path leading upwards towards a grand stone building.

The building had assortments of stone blocks laid to form the structure, marble, natural rock and other materials. Marvellous glass windows portraying battle scenes and the slaying of huge vicious beasts. The large wooden roof was in the style of ancient Nordic Volshikk architecture. A plume of smoke ascended from the stone chimney - it quickly dissipated as a barrage of snow slammed down onto the roof.

Inside, delicate hand-woven tapestries of all colours hung magnificently from the walls. A group of people were inside, holding silver grails filled with the finest Volshikk wine. One, wearing black, leather robes stood at the door, awaiting the ambassadors from the nations of Ceaden to arrive.

[Achesia]

It was a white out. Not something uncommon to the high lands of Achesia yet even to those men who have lived in such conditions for their entire life caution was still given when traveling in such blizzards. By horse they had traveled from Judgestone, hundreds of miles to meet with the realm that has established itself close enough to draw the attention of the King of Achesia. To show good will to these neighbors the King sent his cousin the Duke of Judgestone to treat with the Volshikk and learn of their peoples.

The Duke was wrapped in many fur coats of bears and wolves, under which he wore a cuirass of plate armor. His horse was drabbed in Koud Yellow with a crowned stag adorning in on either side. His sword was decorated with silver and black steel and was tucked on his belt under many of the furs. Around his face he wore a fur shaw around his face to shield himself from the elements as he and his ten horsemen of his Presidium ascended the mountain towards the Volshikk Embassy. The horsemen each wore furs, less elegant than that of the dukes and carried yellow banners with the sigil of the Koud’s on poles.

It had been a dreadfully uncomfortable trip across the snowy wastes of this winter wonderland. It was not late Sextilis yet the snows have covered the earth in the high mountains. The riders soon caught glimpse of the embassy on the crest ahead. The Duke began to trot towards the flickering torch lights faster as to speed their exit from the elements.

As they neared the gate to the embassy they could see sentries standing guard. As his horse trotted towards them he raised his right hand in peace. When he was within speaking distance he declared himself.

“I am Duke Sacheverell Koud of Judgestone, envoy of the King of Achesia. I wish to treat with those who are qualified to treat with me.”

[Aelosia]

The trip had been an extremely long one. A trip of weeks by Dhow until reaching the coasts of Achesia, and then a rather long hike on bought Achesian horses through the plains into the base of the mountains. It was weeks worth of travels, all for the hope of establishing a link with a rather far apart people.

Elesielle was aware of the implications and the importance of her trip, however. The Teleri colony of Farisel was barely reborn now, and the elven people were in dire need of friends, allies or at least partners. Vast part of their cities and ports were still in ruins, and there were challenges everywhere. Trade was barely starting now, and although they enjoyed the advantage of having raw resources, a well maintained guard and a mighty trading and military fleet, they barely had the resources to maintain the fleet and the well oiled machine.

Some resources from what they had brought in the Isel quest remained, and there were plenty of mines to be dug in Farisel. Yet the fariselians were in dire need of other resources. Especially wood. Forests were scarce around the reclaimed province of Isel, the territory held by the fariselians comprised of mostly mountain ranges. And most of the wood there was of low quality, not good enough for the manufacturing of bows and repairing their ships. Should this problem not be solved, the Fariselian Queen might be facing a full blown crisis, by just something as stupid as lack of wood.

Elesielle placed one of her raven black hair locks behind her ear, and looked at the far horizon with a longing stare from her bright blue eyes. There was kin living on those mountains, it was rumoured. Sailors had picked the rumours on foreign ports. Kin that flourished here and hoped for contact. And the Teleri needed the help from their kin, and more likely they had something useful for their kin too.

She got a tight hold on the reins of her expensive yet extremely wild Achesian horse. These horses were as big as elven steeds, and way more fierce. Yet their endurance was remarkable, and they managed to get them here from the coast. She fixed the long skirt of her silken dress over her leg, covering the upper part of her carefully crafted knee high leather riding boots. She turned to her companions, two elves from the Queen Daeris' personal guard, an honor itself, and a human guide they had hired to show them the way. "If the rumours are true, the Volshikk dwell there at the base of the mountains. We need to reach them before nightfall", she said in the human dialect using her heavily accented elven tone. "There won't be need for your services anymore", she added while looking at the guide, and finally turning to one of her guards. "Pay him well, Athonad".

The elven soldier gave the man a few gold pieces, a King's Ransom indeed for the services of the guide. For sure he was going to be raised to chief of his ramshackle village with that gold. It was fine, he had deserved it, thought Elesielle.

They rode to the base of the mountains, and yet did not find any trace of habitation or civilization with the exception of a long pass road that crawled up into the mountains. the trio of elves were forced to camp in the intersection before committing to goin up. Elesielle spent the night almost desperate, just realizing that she could be wrong and that there Volshikk were a myth, or as the Iselians befor ethem, they were extinguished and extinct. If they failed, they would die out of hunger here in the wilderness, if the cold did not kill them first. She just hoped there was something up in the mountains, and spent the nights in nightmares of dying frozen and alone.

As dawn broke the night, the raised camp and started the hard way up. The climate was fierce, the gales and the snow slowing them down, although the Achesian horses again proved to be resilent enough as to climb the steep road. The wind was throwing the snow to the fariselians' faces, and frankly, their light silk garments and their leather cloaks were not adequate enough for this fierce weather.

Finally they reached a junction where some wooden shacks could be seen at the distance, around a large building of stone. Elesielle almost gasped in surprise and prepared herself to whip her horse forward when one of her guards caught her reins, his other hand in the pommel of her horse. "We saw them too", said the usually reserved soldier, "but they might not be the Volshikk at all. And danger could be lurking there".

Elesielle stood proud to the guard, suddenly resuming her regal pose and arrogant attitude that was partly lost during the last week due to the hardships of the journey, a spirit that was returning to her now that she implied that the end of their trip was at hand. "And even if there is danger, Athonad, I prefer a quick death at the point of a sword than a long one frozen in the mountains. I ride", she said, and sank her heels in the sides of her mount, launching into a fast stride towards the buildings. Soon her guards went to get into their own mounts and strode to follow her.

Elesielle was a good rider, as most elves were. Her horse galloped around the shacks and went directly for the largest building, the stone edific in the middle of the place. She stopped her horse a few paces away from the door, her heart racing as she realized the sentries standing there were elves in both appearance and nature.

She raised her right hand showing the palm towards the sentries, in the ancient elven tradition, as her left struggled to maintain her steed on check. "Aure Antuluva!", she said as a greeting, hoping the sentries would understand, then started to speak in the anceint tongue. "Kin I am, from afar. I have been send, with the purpose of friendship", the pair of guards quickly rushed to her, stopping her mounts right behind the fariselian envoy, waiting for the answer of the sentries.

[Carbarosia]

"Greetings, travellers, I am Elenweyn Aldmeri, grand duchess of Nzogthand-Zol, ambassador of Volshikkur. It appears you have received our invitation to this evenings events. This is the Volshikkur Embassy and we apologise for your arduous and bitter journey across Yol-lok Dremor, Mounatins of Ice. However, since you have arrived you may proceed with some of our sentries to the rooms you shall be staying at. Be dressed in your finest clothing for the events that shall be held, you shall meet in the embassy room, where we shall discuss diplomatic affairs. After, we shall hold a banquet and quench your thirst with the finest Volshikk wine and fill your stomachs with the rarest delicacies from across Volshikkur. Tethor drem'yol so kor, goodbye my friends." Elenweyn spoke with a heavy and thick Volshikk accent before leaving and disappearing into the crowd of guests. Sentries approached the Fariselian and Achesian ambassadors and lead them to their rooms.

[Aelosia]

"Greetings, travellers, I am Elenweyn Aldmeri, grand duchess of Nzogthand-Zol, ambassador of Volshikkur. It appears you have received our invitation to this evenings events. This is the Volshikkur Embassy and we apologise for your arduous and bitter journey across Yol-lok Dremor, Mounatins of Ice. However, since you have arrived you may proceed with some of our sentries to the rooms you shall be staying at. Be dressed in your finest clothing for the events that shall be held, you shall meet in the embassy room, where we shall discuss diplomatic affairs. After, we shall hold a banquet and quench your thirst with the finest Volshikk wine and fill your stomachs with the rarest delicacies from across Volshikkur. Tethor drem'yol so kor, goodbye my friends." Elenweyn spoke with a heavy and thick Volshikk accent before leaving and disappearing into the crowd of guests. Sentries approached the Fariselian and Achesian ambassadors and lead them to their rooms.

Elesielle dismounted her horse with a wide smile on her face, and bowed courteously in front of the Volshikk Duchess, as was proper for an elf in front of someone of higher social standing. elesielle, after all, was nothing but a diplomatic envoy, a talented and rather sharp negotiator, but her noble blood had grown dim in the latter generations. She could not aspire to be on the same step of the ladder as a Duchess.

She straightened up after the long bow, and followed the elven sentries towards her chambers. The pair of guards excused themselves to their own lodgings, hoping without doubt to be able to remove their armor and relax their sight after so many days of travelling vigilance. She nodded and let them do so. She had so many things to think about now.

She entered her room, and was pleased. Everything was comfortable and fitting, although adorned and embellished. Without doubt the Volshikkur were kin. The elven touch was everywhere to look at.

Soon her travel trunk was deposited in her room, with her few belongings, including the gown she was supposed to wear when dealing with the Volshikk leaders. She suddenly blushed at the thought that she had faced the Duchess Elenweyn dressed in her travelling garments, a coarse coat of leather with only a collarbone of mink's fur as adornment, high leather boots and riding pants. Well, she had to be excused, the weather was not welcoming in these parts.

She carefully extracted her gown from the trunk and placed it over the bed, straigthening the delicate fabric with soft touches. To get dressed would take her the best part of an hour at least. She hoped, however, that she would not be late. If the Volshikk were elves, after all, they would recognize that elvenkind had so much time in front of them that things like schedules were a loose frame in the weave of time.

She disposed of her common clothes and got dressed with the large gown, first putting on the white garment, then the bright blue semi traslucent over dress, and finally the delicate lapislazuli belt that trimmed her slim waistline and the metal flower brooch right over her heart and her humble bosom.

Then it was the turn of the hair. She combed her pitch black locks with ease, and resented not having either a maid or a mirror, but as things were, she was grateful enough to be alive and warm in an elven residency than in pieces in the stomach of a snow troll. She managed to get it to fall gracely, although she could had done better after a bath. Some things would had to wait.

She opened the small oak box resting inside her trunk and placed a pair of delicate pearl earrings, one on her left earlobe and another in the point of her elongated, pointy right ear. The assymetry of it gave her outlook a special touch. She then surrounded her milky neck with a normal silvery necklace, on which another trio of blue pearls hanged right over her cleavage. It was a nice touch, a jewel that was a symbol of the marriage between the pearl of the sea and the silver of the mountains in the life of the Fariselians.

She was ready. This was one of the most important moments of her life. She needed to get that trade agreement on terms favourable to both Fariselians and Volshikk. She breathed deeply and slowly, regaining composure and scaring her nerves away. Wood was the keyword here. Just wood.

Finally she left the room, and came down to the embasy room, where the Volshikk envoys were without doubt present.

[Achesia]

Duke Sacheverell Koud dipped his head in respect to his host as he was bid to enter the embassy. Being a gentleman he let the elven delegation from Farisel enter the embassy first as they seemed to be more at home than he and his men. They were a world from the warm fires and cold stone walls of Achesia where the human tongues flourished. Now they were strangers in a land that did not speak nor understand the words they would utter, there only safety was the Captain of Duke Koud’s personnel Presidium who spoke the native Vs'shtak Xanalre. The men handed their horses off to the stable master and proceeded into the Embassy. His men were all lead off to their lodging where they would stay together, the Duke however was lead to his own personnel suite, he brought along a guard of course (as was expected a man of his rank).

Once shown to his room he thanked the elven sentry for his hospitality as he left to let the Achesian diplomat prepare for the summit. Taking off his layers of warm clothing and armor he changed into a leather jerkin of fine black Achesian leather from the South March of Bisonmane. It was cooler to wear in the warmed confines of the embassy. Around his neck he wore the golden medallion of his position as Abbas of the Koud Clan, the medallion featured a black opal stag with a golden crown atop its head. His fingers featured many gold and silver rings that showed much wealth and around his waist he continued to brandish his ornate long sword in its scabbard.

It did not take long for him and his guard for the night to prepare for the festivities. Before and hour had even passed he emerged from his suite to venture down into the embassy room to treat with the Elves of the eastern lands.

Duke Sacheverell Koud