If

[Midlonia]

“Eternity's cliff should be scaled because when you reach there you are in the embrace of the Lord and ever lasting, if we can scale if before we die, then truly we are blessed. The inevitable human condition of needing to strive away from struggle is a condition God imbued into us.” Hartley retorted to Sybil.

He sat down again as Dimitri revealed he had seen this enemy. “If you have seen it and survived then surely it bodes well for the rest of us if you have been able to survive your encounter, then so can others with the right training, right faith, and right weapons.”

"I do not think I survived because of my skill." Dimitri said. "Nor my weapons," Dimitri was unarmed, but there was a sense about him that no weapon would be alien in his hands, "nor my training, though I would not have survived without faith. I believe that I survived because...because it spared me."

“It spared you because it wanted to mock us? Is that your answer, Dimitri?” Hartley said as he leant forward. “As what, a warning? So you could come and tell us?” Hartley tapped the desk a few times in a rhythmic four beat in thought. “It's fallible. A threat as described would never warn us, never give us time to prepare, it would simply come and break our souls and spirit then, not think us so weak as to be broken...”

"Fallible...or divided." Dimitri replied. "The destruction of us all was not once the Enemy's only agenda. But it forsook its first path long ago. I do not know why it would resume it."

“Then if there is division, as you surmise, perhaps we could find ways of negotiating with one side, one faction.” Hartley continued his four beat rhythm, it was the basis of a number of things in the Midlonian church, hymns, and the four entity basis of their particular sect of Christendom. God, father, Holy Spirit and the Brother. Representing family bonds. “To keep it divided. This fallible section, makes little sense.”

Dimitri seemed lost in thought for a moment. "It is not the Enemy's way to fight itself." He said. He reached casually for his glass of water and tapped it several times, as if nervous. "I theorize that this 'divided' part cannot be turned against the rest. It is blunted and confused, forgetful of the evil it 'should' be doing."

"It cannot be made to oppose that evil, and one day it will remember. There are others, just as strong, who are now waking to make it remember. It is not the place where our hope should rest."

“Then we must find a way of striking before it can unify.” Hartley said simply, his hand finally stopping. “Before Unity can be established, strike first and while the iron is hot.”

[Der Fuhrer Dyszel]

The ripples danced, melted, spoke of the truth Dimitri had seen. Transfixed by the water, Edea's mind lost itself in the small ripples as they became waves in her mind.

"Save me," a man's mind screamed as his body slipped and began to plummet over the edge, twisting into the blackness with the image of a small battered girl standing all alone in the darkness, waiting for the man to fall. Something monstrous stirred within the girl, gnashing and gnarling teeth trying to consume the falling man while the cold dead nothingness rose up around them. Yet she cried, begging it to stop, to spare him.

"I see," her sorrowful melodious voice spoke as she seemed to drift from the table towards her seat, staring at her own glass of water, "we must not harm the child."


As confused as the rest, Tessera looked to Edea for an answer, "My lady?" she asked, trying to elicit more information only to find Edea's sad eyes falling upon her, telling her to have faith.

Faith

The source of most of the confusion in Tessera's life. It was so difficult to believe entirely in forces she could not touch, see, or even hear. The life around her seemed so majestic, painted into being by an unfathomable artist. So many times had she heard others proclaiming that "God was all-being, all-encompassing. One merely had to search themselves to find God." But here she was again in the crossroads she had stopped at so many times before, looking inside her self only to hear silence, to see blackness, to feel empty. Closing her eyes again, she searched, opening herself to an answer. Only a soft melody spoke in her mind, "I see.". The words of Edea echoed within. Faith. She just had to believe.....believe in whatever "it" was that Edea had seen.

Replaying the conversation in her mind, she pondered for a moment. If the Enemy were divided, they might have a chance? If there was a way to 'befriend' the Enemy, could they stand a chance? Never before did she know the Enemy to be compassionate, but it had spared Dimitri. There may still be hope. But then again, Dimitri spoke of others awakening, more powerful forces threatening them. Fiends awakening? Fiends trapped...

"Wait," Tessera interjected as she looked to Dimitri. "You said others were waking. Surely these 'others' would have had to been here a very long time. I imagine that we would have known about their entry if they only recently appeared. These others....were sleeping? What makes a fiend sleep? Something.....something had to have put it to sleep," Tessera's mind seemed to beg for hope, reaching out for an answer. "Our religions, Dimitri, do you think they have an answer? Hartley, do you think that perhaps somewhere our Gods tried to tell us about them? Shalamar, Sewen, Fillide....surely there must be something in our collective knowledge that gives us the answer?"

[Midlonia]

"Sleep is referenced in a lot of material in the Church of Midlonia's archives. I cannot think of anything specific though. We'd have to search and they'd need to be pretty specific references to make a hit in the archives computer and search engine." Hartley looked to his assistant who began playing with the pad he had on his lap and then looked up shaking his head.

"Just sleep references... about 3 million different parts, Midlonian Bible included, your graces." The aide said before toying with it again.

"Like I said, we'd need to think of some more specific way of putting it." Hartley said with a shrug as he stood and paced again in thought.

[Rave Shentavo]

Security was not an issue, for the amber eyed woman was unarmed. Her long white hair was pulled back into a twist braid, extending down her back and tied. A few stray strands escaped at the front and hung in a crescent like curve upon her left cheek. Her skin was slightly tanned from time spent out in the sun, and her body relatively well toned. Various tribal tattoos were seen from the sleeveless, white button down shirt and gray pleated grey skirt. Knee high hiking boots completed her outfit. She carried a satchel over her shoulder. A necklace hung from her neck with four strands of different colored beads on it. The first was of ruby, the second of sapphire, the third of emerald, all jaggedly cut and blemished. The last of the strands had six, silver-colored beads on it.

This is the hardest part when you feel like you're faded
All that you have become unreal collapsing, and aching

After making it through security, she approached the door and heard the voices from inside. She frowned slightly. Being late was never something she enjoyed. Perhaps she could just sneak in and make it to the back of the room. She hadn't announced her coming, had no servants nor assistants. She had come alone into a place she knew little about. The only thing that brought her was her own two legs and the pull of the spirits. Much to her dismay, as she pushed open the doors, her presence did not go unnoticed.

[Midlonia]

Hartley stopped what he was doing, mostly peering over the shoulder of his aide and looked towards the door as it opened. He pursed his lips and looked the girl up and down twice before he coughed.

“Welcome Miss, you find us at a moment of relative calm compared to the moments prior.” He sighed and turned towards the window, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Access the full data base. Search for anything about division, slumber...and the Grethin.”

The aid tensed up at the latter's mention before nodding slowly and tapping away at the small data pad in front of him brought up new documents and passages. Hartley took the pad from his aide and nodded, passing it across to Dimitri and Tessera. “What do you make of these sections? I am afraid our archives consist of a lot of things, not all of them make sense, not all of them are in books that technically exist, aside from ones we kept to ensure they are not reprinted.”

[Rave Shentavo]

A bit startled in being addressed, the woman headed to a free seat. "Sorry for being late. Sometimes your technologies are confusing," she replied and sat down. She took in each and every member of the room before being content to just listen. She watched as the conversations continued. All of their writings and archiving of information in the palm of ones hand. Such reliance on that little device can become burdensome if one should lose it.

[Der Fuhrer Dyszel]

Tessera smiled gently to the new comer, acknowledging silently that she did not miss her arrival, but she quickly turned back to the small pad. Scrutinizing the materials, she looked over the stories carefully. "I am not sure...." she hesitated as she continued to look through the information, "what we are looking for is something hidden within the layers of text. Stories of entire civilizations lost without so much as a hint to their disappearence. Stories as if all life had just simply vanished. Places, areas, of travel that one avoids. Dark, cold, menacing places that even life seems to have crawled away from. I believe..." she pondered aloud, looking more deeply into the story, "what we are looking for is something that has been locked away for a long time and its existence or remenants of its existence only hinted at through folklore and stories. It may not be something clear."

[Midlonia]

With your Co-operation...

“Miss, might I ask your name?” Hartley said looking to the woman who had sat down with amber eyes. “Forgive me for sounding a little blunt but you do not seem to be a person who leads a religion, or is a part of one.”

The woman arches her brow. "You cannot tell if one follows a religion simply by looking at them. Even the wretches on the street can follow a religion. I am a leader amongst my people for what we follow. My name is Stalks-in-Moonlight."

“Ah.” Hartley twitches his mouth a little, a brief flash of displeasure masked rapidly enough for the humans among them to not notice, but the wolf? “I see, well, I am glad such differences could be placed aside for this conference regardless.”

He clears his throat and then nods to the data pad in Teressa's hand. “The Gethin are a race-name the government assigned to a civilization's ruins that we've found on three separate Midlonian colonies and on one joint colony with our friends and allies in the Commonwealth.”

He glanced to Dimitri and then Lady Edea. “The histories we've found are very fragmented and translation is very hard but it seems to fit in with what you've described. Though they called them the Black Reapers, for they brought an end to them over an excruciating amount of time.”

Hartley took a sip of water from the table and then walks around. “They were masters of biological manipulation and bred a subspecies of themselves into fierce killing machines, they're devolved ancestors are still with us. We think that these Black Reapers cut most of them down to these three worlds, and then their own killing machines turned against them.”

Dimitri stroked his well groomed beard before looking to Edea. "The Enemy has never been known to turn against itself. But then, it has not always worked alone. There will be many foolish enough to think that they can take its side."

“We think this was a case of starving pet turning against master rather than any Enemy gaining extra soldiers, the constant breeding and refinement of these creatures that science suggests they simply got hungry and unable to follow their master's orders.” Hartley said with a shrug.

"Every group no matter of what alignment have inner struggles amongst their society. Such is the way of things. Good and evil as you all refer to it, make no difference," the amber eyed woman said sitting on the edge of her chair.

“Precisely.” Hartley said with an open palmed hand towards Stalks-in-Moonlight.

"The Enemy does not." Dimitri said. "It follows its function. It can, it would appear, be distracted from its goals for a time, but the goals itself remain constant."

“Yet parts of it are slower to awaken than others. Perhaps a way of keeping the rest of them asleep could be found which is a point of division.” Hartley said clicking his fingers. “Perhaps there's something buried on one of the Gethin worlds still.”

"Perhaps." Dimitri looked to his water glass, then to Edea, as if expecting something. "Or here in this world - but they would be a better start."

With transfixed eyes, Edea stared ahead, looking to the new-comer. Although she understood the turn of the conversation, her attention was drawn yet again to examining the motions of their newest attendee.

It was Tessera who chimed in, her voice sounding soft and quiet, "If I am not mistaken, the greater concern is not so much where they are, but what put them there. What could have the power to restrain a fiend? I believe that is the utmost concern. Should we discover that....we can hopefully find a way to stop their impending threat."


“Three worlds survived for a while longer as far as we know, a key if not the key, might be there.” Hartley ventured. “But they are areas fraught with danger. I wouldn't recommend anybody but your best and most able to accompany any expedition.”

"Does anyone know exactly what we are fighting? How their society works? What is valued, where they congregate?" the woman picked her eyes up to Edea as if looking into her very soul. But no one could truly do that. Hopefully. Especially for Stalks.

Tessera shook her head, hanging it slowly, afraid to face the truth, "Regretfully, that is just our dilemma. We know very little about the Enemy, just that it has come much closer to threatening our very existence. The little we know about the Enemy is that it consumes life in its entirety. While they are difficult to recognize in shape and form they are unmistakable in characteristics.

"The thing that makes it dangerous is the thing that keeps us from understanding it." Dimitri added, practically cutting Tessera off. "To fully know it is death. To observe it is...dangerous. Trying to name things without names is an exercise in futility. But you are right that it must be done."

“Perhaps we should go with the Grethin's name for them?” Hartley ventured.

"A location? You have grasped the basic question we have come here to try to answer."

The woman kind of sits back in her chair and has a pensive look about her, but says nothing.

“I share your same worries, Stalks. If I cannot hunt it and purify it I worry, or don't believe it exists.” Hartley says as he too, finally, sits down. “But then I am sure our experiences are not entirely spiritual when fighting against evil, correct?”

"I don't fight evil, I fight to restore the balance. What you perceive as evil; destruction, corruption, decay, is just part of the natural cycle of life. It is more often then not, however, your 'evil' has grown greater than your 'good', and your 'order.'"

“Quite.” Hartley bowed his head slightly. “My apologies.”

[Callisdrun]

"If I may speak, my colleagues," the High Priestess said, quietly but certainly not timidly. While listening to the conversation of the other delegates and the hosts, she had been turning over a few thoughts in her mind, that parts of what Edea described were disturbingly familiar. "Good and evil are relative," she said in her accent, which was melodious despite the hissing sound inherent in the background of her voice. "Many of some other faiths," she began, not looking at the Christian representation in the room, "would call our gods evil. Indeed, they are cold, much like our land. The accusation seems leveled at my mistress very commonly, for she is death aspected and cruel. And while our gods certainly don't claim omni-benevolence, or even perfection, they are good after a fashion, not overly merciful, but mostly just. For to call them evil ignores other beings that lurk in our cosmology."

Noting the newcomer with a friendly (though razor toothed) smile, Eszti continued. "One of the oldest beings mentioned in the sagas is the creature Nidhogg. Many things have been lost in our faith, burned up in the fires of war, and this was especially common hundreds of years ago before we had the printing press and written copies of the sagas were few and far between. The details of Nidhogg's origin are such things. It is thought that Nidhogg is as old or older than the gods, and that he, and I use the gendered pronoun loosely, is a creature born from Niflheim, the void that existed before the world and still exists outside the world of life. In the sagas, he is described as a dragon, imprisoned beneath the roots of Yggdrasil, the world tree, and that he gnaws at the living roots of his prison, destined one day to break free, which will herald the end of the world." The Batory paused, not wanting to rush her description.

"Some still say that Nidhogg is actually a dragon, but those people are generally literalists who haven't been taken seriously by the mainstream faith for a couple hundred years. Myself, I believe that those who wrote the sagas described Nidhogg as a dragon because dragons are generally understood to be very powerful, potentially destructive creatures. Just as I do not believe that Yggdrasil is an actual tree that one can go to, as we'd have found an ash tree that big by now, but rather a metaphor, a representation of all life itself, I do not believe Nidhogg to be an actual dragon."

The vampiress shifted her gaze from Edea to Hartley, from Hartley to the newcomer, to Fillide and to Inruil, to Sewen and then to Tessera and to Dimitri. "Nor do I believe him, or it, rather, to be some sort of stand in for death. We have gods of death, my mistress Ithtyr is one of them, and they are part of the world centered on Yggdrasil, part of the world of life. For just as the finale is not the opposite of a symphony but merely the concluding part of it, death is not the opposite of life but an integral part of the living world. Plants, animals, including human beings, have all lived and died in this world of life and been part of the cycle for periods of time that make even the longest of our lifetimes appear puny and insignificant. Nidhogg, however, is not part of this cycle. The world of life and its system of life and death, with every more living things replacing the old, are a prison to this being."

"Though Nidhogg and some other less significant brethern of his... or its, are the Niflheim born, there are other things mentioned in the sagas that seem... perturbing, given the uncomfortable bits of information Lady Edea has revealed to us today" Eszti continued. "Most well known among the dangerous creatures of what foreigners call our 'myths' is Fenrir, described as a giant wolf whose most notable foreseen accomplishment is his killing of one of our chief gods, Odin, by devouring him, while his offspring will consume the sun and moon with their associated gods. Said to be his sibling, Jormungand, also known as the Midgard Serpent, will, according to the saga, poison the sky. It is this poison breath that will supposedly kill another of our gods, Thor. Like Nidhogg, I do not believe these creatures to be literally a giant wolf and a giant serpent. It is hard to describe the spiritual in language suited to the physical, so metaphors are common, I think, in most religious documents."

She cocked her head, as if pondering. "I'm not sure I'd even describe these creatures, especially Nidhogg, even as being what we could understand as 'evil.' For the consumption and eradication of life is simply what they do, like an insect drawn to light. It is a natural inclination, rather than a conscious choice. This may seem a nitpicking distinction, but I think it is a useful one. Those who make a conscious choice to harm us can potentially be reasoned with. It is my belief that these creatures cannot."

"Before I relinquish the floor to my esteemed colleagues, the subject of lost civilizations is one that intrigues me. More than 1200 years ago, before the unification of the land now called Callisdrun, there was a Queendom centered in Istengrad and also the now ruined city of Sarkanotthon that had grown into an empire." Eszti did not say that it had been ruled by her own family, the Batorys. That would be presumptuous and too much like bragging. The status of her clan had little to do with her profession, as what families her servants had been born into didn't matter to Ithtyr. "We know exactly how that empire fell. However, in records going back even further, as it was a long lived civilization, there are quite a few mentions of various other societies from which little remains. From some, there are ruins that we've been able to identify, apparent cause of their downfall unknown. In the case of others, there is little to nothing."

[The Kyr]

"The Kyr have destroyed civilizations ourselves," Inruil commented, "When the Powers that ruled them sought to encroach upon our lands. The death of entire peoples usually leaves some trace ... even when the instrument of its downfall is a Power itself. If that instrument were something beyond even the greatest Powers ... I do not know. I can consult the archives, when I return to Ajal-Hekhamet - it is nearby to the great Shrine of Aikerrat, and the libraries there - but I cannot say I know of any occasions where all life has vanished, as if it never were. As for events upon other worlds - alas, the Kyr have not yet mastered your sciences of travelling through the air between the planets. I know nothing in that regard."

Inruil, if pressed, would have admitted that he did not particularly like humans - few Kyr did, with the clans hemmed in on every border by ever-pressing human nations - but he was not one of those Kyr who thought the Human Quarters of their cities should be razed, that the outlanders should be driven out or massacred. It was plain to all that human science had progressed far beyond that of the Kyr, and moderates like Inruil thought it best to learn from them. Other Atis would have left humanity to the attentions of its Enemy, but then other Atis would hardly have attended this conference in the first place.

[Rave Shentavo]

At the mention of the Fenrir, Stalks-in-Moonlight just flashed a normal, human smile. She just remained quiet as the others spoke. In her lands, the vampires, or what remained of them, had gone into hiding as the revolution changed the leadership into the hands of a different kind of supernatural. She didn't, however, seem pleased with the vampire in the room, but said nothing. She wasn't here to kill the leeches. In the darkest times, even the creatures of Destruction would have to lend their help to the ones that would otherwise refuse it (and kill them).

“There was a time when vampires ruled our nation. They were far more dangerous than many of the threats that our land faced. They were called the Shentavo Clan. It's only a matter of time before the lee--” she stoped herself from saying “leeches”, to be polite in present company. “leadership lost their humanity and abandoned the lands. They slaughtered countless, without a care, for they were above humans and every other form of life. For what individual strength they had, they were defeated by strength of number. It is only now that our lands have begun to rebuild, but the balance is severly damaged by their reign. Slowly, we are fixing it.”

She leaned back in her chair. “No matter how big this threat, united, we stand a much better chance at success. But you don't go into battle blindly thinking you are coming out. I hope everyone in this room is prepared to die to fix this “evil”, one way or the other. I'm willing to put aside my differences to stop it.” She eyed the vampire, then stretched. The top of her shirt came up a bit, and you could see the flash of a large scar on her left side.

[Midlonia]

"The faithful are always prepared to do their part." Hartley said with a slight nod. "But this threat is most strange, and I think that fighting it is not just a physical force like you and I are used to Stalks-in-Moonlight." Hartley scratched his chin in thought and then sighed slowly. "Death, life, existence itself is apparently under threat and this conclave of sorts is here to decide which ways we can, if any, go about doing it."

[Callisdrun]

"We are not the Shentavo clan," Eszti said. Her eyebrows had raised slightly when Stalks-in-Moonlight had begun to say "leeches." Though her instinct urged her to rip out the rude woman's throat and devour her flesh, or at the very least, challenge her to a duel (entirely legal in Callisdrun, though nobody with any brains ever accepted a challenge from a member of the Batory clan, or challenged them in turn, as it was a good way to die very quickly and messily), there were much more important matters. And the woman did have a point, even if no Batory liked admitting such. In the golden age of the Batory Empire, the government had been run as a well oiled, efficient, and mostly rational machine. While the concept of political rights hadn't existed, their rule in that time had been fair and just, if also absolutist, strict and appallingly undemocratic. Everything had worked, the school system had made their subjects some of the most educated in the region at the time, and famine had been rare due to effective crop rotation and government stores and distribution.

But after the glorious reign of Sarkany, often called "The Dragoness," who had failed to produce an heir to become queen after her, things began falling apart. After squabbling amid themselves, the Batorys had grown negligent, and when the relatively upstart Pendrunsks had united Callisdrin and Drun, a mere decade later they took Istengrad, the home city of Eszti's clan, quite easily. In the thousand odd years since, the Batorys had still maintained a huge influence over the Priestesshood of Ithtyr, and had redeemed themselves politically to some degree as well, now counted among the Pendrunsks' most dependable subjects. That didn't keep Stalks' indirect (and perhaps not entirely intentional; after all, Eszti never counted on foreigners to be that well versed in her history, it was unfair to expect more of them than they could of her) jab from stinging, though.

Continuing, she noted "We are not a threat to any but enemies of Callisdrun... and rival clans, of course." It was well known that clan feuds could be extremely brutal. The Batory clan had been nearly wiped out a few decades ago. Their noted prolific breeding had in the time since rebuilt their numbers, so that they were once again the largest of the clans. "Nor do we rule our home country. I am a priestess, not a government official, though I enjoy a close relationship with the Queen." Bente II's revival of an old tradition, of "communion" with the High Priestess of Ithtyr, had enraged Christian, Jewish and Muslim leaders in Callisdrun. Most of the populace had been indifferent or delighted, however. Tradition was usually reckoned a good thing in Callisdrun, especially harmless celebratory kinds. "Callisdrun is ruled by a parliament, and a monarch of the Pendrunsks, who, despite the Sorvik clan's counting them as practically family, are not vampires."

Smiling (revealing barbed fangs), her black eyes met those of the other woman. "I am not sure what offense I've caused you, Stalks-in-Moonlight, but I assure you any slight was unintentional and I bear you no ill will. Even if I did, such things must be set aside, or we will surely fail in our endeavors."

[Der Fuhrer Dyszel]

Holding up her hand, the black satin glove shimmering slightly in the angled light, Edea motioned for a moment of silence. While it was important to address each attendees concerns, the current turn of conversation was beginning to take a turn towards more darker responses. With a fixed stare, Edea continued to watch the actions between Stalks and Eszti, noting a subtle hint of hostility between the two....as if by their natures alone they disliked the other.

Catching Edea's movement, Tessera abruptly cut in and took lead, "Perhaps we should reconvene in a moment? How about we all take a dinner and report back here in the morning? I believe we have discussed much and it would do us all well to think upon the matters discussed today and perhaps research some more over the course of the night."

[Midlonia]

Hartley stood and nodded to Tessera, then Dimitri and Lady Edea before walking around the table to Stalks-in-Moonlight, his cool grey eyes regarding her slowly. “Miss Stalks-in-Moonlight, would you care to join me for something to eat?”

"I normally eat alone, but if you insist," Stalks says, standing up, eyes locked on his. There was no fear in the cool glassy orbs.

“It makes a nice change to find a civilized changeling.” Hartley said calmly as they left the hall and headed further down towards a room where food could be smelt wafting slowly along the corridor. “Contact with your kind so far has often been violent and bloody.”

"We defend our territory."

“Quite. What do you make of the conference so far?” Hartley said with a slightly nonchalant shrug

“Nothing really of use so far," she replied as she walked with Hartley.

The two Knights followed some steps behind as the Bishop and the Wolf walked towards the small side-room where some food, hot and cold, was laid out on a table. Hartley peered at it then smiled slightly. “Doesn't seem to be anything fresh that may tickle your fancy.” He said with his tongue in his cheek. “But there have been some interesting view points from the numerous delegates there. Different ones certainly but it seems to me, well, the view points right now differ too much.”

She looked at the food and kind of sneered. "I'll pass on dinner for now. I'm not that hungry..."

Hartley shrugged and placed a couple of things on his plate before sitting at a small table. “As you wish. I think you and I are too used to actual physical threats, right? The Shentavo's, the Anno Domini for us. This seems to be something a lot bigger that claims to be able to consume everything in it's path, which I find an odd idea, ecumenical or otherwise.”

"Yes, well. I am more of a physical fighter. One of my....comrades, however, deals with more of the spiritual side. I believe he will be able to help more than I."

“Will he be coming then? Why didn't he come in the first place is my real question I suppose, you are more of a King or Queen than a religious figure which was the basis of this conference.” Hartley stabbed a bit of meat with a fork and ate it slowly as he thought.

"Because...I can gauge if any of you pose a threat, and if its safe for me to bring the others along with me. Mind you, they are close enough if needed, but not close enough to be noticed. And it is at my discretion whether or not I want to force them to work with leeches."

“The Vampires are likely to be a problem, but the inherent distrust is apparently something to consider laying aside. Have you heard of the phrase 'My Enemy's Enemy is My Friend'? The way the Keigans speak, when they are forced to speak plainly, sound like everything would have to be lain aside to combat this threat, even the natural hatred you have for each other's kin.”

"Do you listen to anything I say?" she arched her brow, as she had said the same thing not but 15 minutes earlier.

“Call it re-iteration of your point.” Hartley said with a smile as he sat back in his chair. “There's tension between our peoples too that would need to be lain aside, is there not? We firmly supported the Shentavo Clan before getting involved in 3UE politics more... forcefully.”

Stalks smiled widely. "Such a shame you failed."

“To control all of it? Perhaps. But then we were only expecting Werewolves and humans perhaps the odd clan of vampires, not Dragons.” Hartley said with a shrug as he clasped his hands. “I simply pray some sort of resolution would be found to everyone's benefit. After the Shentavo's left everything fell into near absolute chaos after all. My countrymen have brought stability and order to parts of the land, while the sharper end remains in chaos. Roads and railroads being rebuilt, electricity restored, schools built. Is that happening everywhere in every section controlled by the Werewolves and the other factions?” Hartley asked, genuinely curious.

"Soon the lands will be entirely ours. I would get all your forces and your technology out of our lands. Unneccessary death would be tragic."

“Confident for so few.” Hartley said with a slight smile. “How do you intend to do that?”

"We have allies too..."

“In enough numbers?” Hartley shrugged. “I have heard rumours but then I am more of church matters than military ones.”

"Yes...in enough numbers."

“What's your opinion of the Enemy they all keep talking about, in the Grethin texts and the others speak of? What about Dimitri?” Hartley said changing the subject back to the matter in hand than the conflict happening some thousand miles or more distant.

She shakes her head. "All I know is that the earth whispers. She is in pain," Stalks looked down towards the ground as if that was something painful to say. "Staying in this conference room debating on what it could be won't solve anything. Investigation is the only thing that will."

Hartley leant forward. “I agree with you, but we have to have ideas and clues. Debating their nature I think, will not continue after this recess.”

He waved his hand. “You cannot simply run off in any direction and simply 'investigate' you need... a scent, a trail, a line of clues which is what we're here to determine.”

Stalks-in-Moonlight considers. "Perhaps not...if you will excuse me, I must speak with Edea."

"Who says I'm investigating blindly?" she looked back over her shoulder. "And scents...are not a problem."

Hartley nodded. “Very well. Though good luck in getting her to speak.”

"There is no such thing as luck." And with that, the woman disappeared.

[Rave Shentavo]

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