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''Credan,'' Damien called over his advisor and steward. ''Gather the leaders.''

Several hours later, the meeting hall was filled with representatives from across Faylia.

''Now, Queen Junna of the Nymphish country of Visaga sent me a letter describing he want for relations between Visaga and Faylia. Of course, I said yes, as what need do we have to decline? But what bothers me is why she sent the letter. We are exceedingly far from her country, one of the farthest, in fact,'' he said, pointing to a map before him. Every member there had a copy of the map. ''So why seek aid with us specifically? Which led me to the conclusion that she didn't. We are not the only country to receive this invite, but why now?'' He lay back in his chair, looking at his court for input.

''Well, what do we know about Nymphs?'' Asked Admiral Flax, a tall man, with weathered skin and a scar running down his face. ''I've got a lovely Nymph lass on my own ship, and I can tell you they ain't dumb, and they have an eye for a good deal.''

''Maybe that's what she wants, a good deal?'' Said General Nescus, a very aged man, close to retirement. ''What does she get from us?''

''No threat of war,'' said Lady Inia bluntly. Every eye turned to her. She was a very beautiful Nymph with dark eyes and an angled face. She represented the Nymph population. ''You see, us Nymphs aren't fighters. We don't have the strength of arms, or enough people. She must already be facing a threat and either eventually wants us to help her, or at least know you won't attack her,'' she said in a sing song voice.

''So all she wants is to know who her enemies are?'' Asked Ornian, Emperor of Commerce.

''Yes. She's looking to see who she can rely on,'' sang Lady Inia.

''Well, we shan't get caught up in her war, whatever it may be, but we shan't attack her either. She will be happy with that. You are dismissed,'' King Damien said to his court. He then got up and went back to his quarters.

- - -



- - -



- - -

This time, the letter went straight to the capital, where To'Takka was present. The bird procedure was done the same as before. After more strenous hours of reading, and frequent murmurs, "This one is more confusing!" could be heard multiple times. A letter was sent back:

2 Vizagah:
Weee thinck u r nice becaws u r dueing this. Weee wood licke 2 talck 2 u sum time.
Wen can weee meat?
Great Hersir To'Takka

King Falendred read the letter and hurriedly went into his room, and began to write a reply.

Dear Queen Junna,
Val Anun has no ill-feelings towards your people or its leaders, I would be happy to become allies, frankly, we don't have many.

Sincerely,
King Falendred
He gave the envelope to the bird and tied it around its leg, before sending it out his window, high above the city.

''Credan!'' Damien called from his chambers. Credan, the sandy haired advisor rushed in. ''I'd like you to go to Visaga. You know hat's best for the country. You will be my diplomat there. Go tell Admiral Flax I sent you, and he'll arrange a vessel for you.''

Ans within two hours, Credan was on a ship headed towards Visaga.

Juno City, like all the other cities in Bru'uneria, bustled with activity. Green, sticklike figures toiled away at their crafts; digging out ore and gems from the great mountains, hammering away at hot, fresh blades at the many forges throughout the land, spinning cloth and weaving tapestries, banners to be flown at the marching of the nation's armies.

High Queen Junodia sat upon her carved onyx throne, within her keep, nestled within Mount Juno--the mountain consisting of a series of large, spacious, well-lit caverns. Her golden eyes rarely blinked as she listened to the chirping of the messenger that bowed before her. "Your Highness, Queen Ji'dorah of the eastern mountains is pleased to report that production from the mines is up 72% from last month's little dip. A small token of her fealty..." He slowly, deliberately, removed an ornate box from his satchel, and held it before the High Queen. Junodia's handmaiden took the box, and opened it up. A glittering sapphire, the size of a man's fist, sat inside, cradled by the velvet lining of the box. Carefully inspecting the jewel, the handmaiden turned it towards Junodia. The High Queen looked at it for a brief moment, and nodded her head ever so slightly. The handmaiden took the box away. "Her token is well received. Such news pleases me. Your duty and labour deserves reward." Junodia spoke softly in a high-pitched voice, as she extended her left arm, lowering her spiky hand towards the messenger--on her wrist sat a thick bracelet of solid gold, encrusted with gems of all sorts, all extremely beautiful. With just a hint of hesitation, the messenger leaned forwards and gently probed the bracelet with his mandibles--the Mantis equivalent of a kiss. He leaned back, and slowly retreated from her throne, eventually rising from his kneeling position, backing half way across the room, before turning and exiting the throne room.

The handmaiden returned to her queen's side with a letter in hand, and offered it to Junodia, who accepted it, scanned through it in but a moment, and handed it back to the handmaiden. Junodia rose from her throne, and headed into her private chambers. The room had a high ceiling, and the air smelled sweet and invigorating--the room had been perfumed earlier with the pheromones of a ku'zak beetle. Junodia felt her anxieties ease almost immediately as she strode across the chamber, which was lavishly decorated with fine imported rugs, handmade oaken furniture, and figurines carved from beautiful gemstones. She sat at her writing desk, and dipped a pen into a golden inkwell. Junodia wrote upon a fine piece of parchment; Queen Junna, your disdain, and that of your countrymen, for the Arachs and Casso-Arachs is well known across Astrum, or at least, in my own realm. Given the similarities between their people and my own, how am I to trust that you do not hold such contempt for Bru'uneria as well? That you have sent such a letter is not sufficient proof of good will, merely that your nation seeks to avoid war. If amicable relations can truly be established between our lands, I am interested, but for the moment, remain unconvinced. -High Queen Junodia. Junodia carefully slipped the letter into an envelope, sealed it with her personal mark--a slight variation of clan Bru'un's crest--and handed it to one of her servants. "Have one of those filthy avian scum take this to Visaga." The servant nodded and quickly scuttled away. Removing a malnourished carrier pigeon from its crude iron cage, the servant tied the message to its foot and threw it into the air. The pigeon immediately plummeted to the ground and broke its neck. The servant chirped a foul curse under his breath, tied the message to a somewhat healthier pigeon, and sent it off. Before returning to the throne room, the servant devoured the still twitching body of the sickly carrier pigeon.

- - -

To'Takka and the Elders were smiling childishly at the compliment,

2 Queen Junna:
Tank u, weee r reddy 4 u.
Great Hersir To'Takka

- - -

After a short, and thankfully fairly tacit meeting of the Council, a young, promising graduate from the political science class of the College, a twenty-year old Nymph named Orna was sent on a small, quick sloop northward from the ports at Narrows toward Tarmargar.

The small boats were greeted right when the sentries spotted them. The sentries ran out to ocean, running so fast little craters were being made in the sand. Once the sentries hit the ocean, they kept running, even though the boat was very far out. The quickly began to drown in the ocean, and a viking like boat was sent out to retrieve them, gasping, and bring them back to camp. Once the boat docked, an extremely large minotaur with very dark fur and a knocked off horn was jumping up and down on the dock, eventually knocking a plank loose, and then bending over and securing it. "Hi!" To'Takka said, waving to the ship.

The Visagan sailors had travelled all around the world, and they were somewhat used to the enthusiasm of the residents of Tarmargar.

"Orna, get off quick. If they come on board, they'll sink us." The Captain, a harsh-looking woman with a weatherbeaten face, said.

"Uhh... Okay." Orna whispered in reply. She waved back at the Minotaur leader, and agilely leapt onto the dock from the ship when it docked.

She was a small, slight girl, with long, straight brown hair, brown eyes, swarthy brown skin, and large, round glasses that magnified her eyes slightly, making her look perpetually surprised.

Junodia read the letter that followed with some amusement. "Very well." she chirped to herself, as she prepared to write another letter. Such people are typically immigrants to Bru'uneria--most often, humans, Katha, or exiled, dishonored Minotaurs. They are buried up to their neck in dirt and left to be devoured by beetles.

A peace between us may be possible after all. -High Queen Junodia. The letter was sent.

King Falendred ordered in one of the guards. "Here, take this to Relenada. Tell her who it's from, and say no more." He said staunchly. The guard headed off, arriving near Relenada's house in about 30 minutes. He knocked on the stone reinforced door of the mostly wooden house in which Relenada was visiting her sister. A small, frail women opened the door, glancing out, almost worriedly. "Hello. And how may I help you?" She asked, to which the tall, organized guard replied, "From the King." He left with a small salute. "Good day."

"Farin, come here, quickly! A message from the King!" She yelled, with a weak, raspy voice. A red-scaled woman, no older than 50, walked down the short set of stairs that separated their bedrooms.

"Can I see it?"

"Hold on, dearest, I must read it first..." She read the first few lines then looked up, confused. "It says the King would like to enroll me in some sort of councilors guild in the palace..."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Relenada! Will you go?" She asked with lonesome eyes.

"Oh... yes, of course." She responded, with an equally solemn expression. "I will miss you, dear. Stay safe, will you."

Farin smiled. "Of course, sister." She walked back up the stairs, rather submissively.

--

The guard returned to the barracks, exhausted, before washing up, and returning to the palace, walking up the long halls to the King's chambers, and telling him that the message had been sent. By this time, however, Falendred was already at work replying to Queen Junna in another letter.

Dear Queen Junna,
I will do just as you have said. I will send one of tomorrow morning, en route to Visaga.

Your ally,
King Falendred.

--

"Your highness, the note has been delivered." The guard stated.

"Good." He said with a kind nod. The guard made his way back down to his barracks, read a little of his book, and fell fast asleep.

To'Takka looked very excited, "You look very pretty," he said.

A young minotaur could be seen, strapped to the equivalent of a child leash and harness, being held by To'Takka.

The little minotaur kid came running at Orna, as if he wanted a hug. To'Takka tugged on the collar, "No, Wabawa!" he said.

The little one ran back to To'Takka's side. "Welcome! Do you like food?" To'Takka asked.

Visaga's Royal palace, several days later
Junna was sitting in the gardens with Nat when a servant brought her the letter from Junodia.

She laughed sharply.

"What is it?" Natlie asked.

"Top secret." Junna replied sweetly.

"I hate you." Nat muttered.

"I love you too." She said, before calling to the servant. "Yani! Bring me a pen and some paper, dear!"



- - -

Orna had learned a bit about the peculiarities of Minotaurs in College, but she hadn't quite prepared for this.

- - -

"Err... Thanks. And, yes, I love food!" She said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

- - -

The thud of heavy hooves on stone was heard, and the massive form of Asphodel LXIII appeared at the top of the stairs. He wore a thick metal pauldron, a strap running to his hip, and a leather warskirt. His fur gleamed with sweat, and his breath came in a great, steaming huffs. In his hand was a letter, unrolled and smoothed out. To his left, the droll form of High Priest Cardastrus (Ordained is He by Cadaan) stood, hands clasped behind his back. His dark brown hair was woven into a single braid, which ran down his back and almost touched the ground. He was garbed in a simple dark red loincloth, the fur of some bear covering his shoulders.

As one, the eight herd lords rose and bowed in deference to their high chief. He waved his hand dismissively and brandished the letter. "Do you see this?" he roared. So full of rage was he, only with effort was he able to marshal his feelings into words. "They - those upstart fags - THEY want to talk peace with US!"

There was the buzz of conversation as this news was quickly discussed by each herd lord with his neighbor. One leaped immediately to his feet, Tarquin Blue Bull, of the Eastern Hill Herd. "Spill their blood," he spat. "They must doubt our manhood, to send so patronizing a letter to the likes of us."

Across from him, his ally, Cephalous One-Eye, took his footing as well. "Chief Blue Bull speaks the truth," he agreed. "My warriors are ready. They thirst for the succulent sweetness of the Nymphs. Too long have we been limited to the rank bitterness of men."

High Priest Cardastrus spoke then, his voice quiet, yet drawing the ears of all in the vicinity. "Though my feelings run as yours do, we cannot retaliate on this blatant affront to our might. Weak though the Nymphs themselves may be, they are understandably popular with the menfolk." Here he coughed, though whether from modesty or to emphasize his point was unclear.

Asphodel bellowed in frustration. "I hate those damn b*tches!"

Cardastrus looked at him sympathetically. "As do we all. They are an affront to the order set forth at the beginning of time."

Queen Busuda sighed happily as she walked through the tunnel of pleached guava trees on her way back to the Royal Palace. She tried to forget the attendants and guards who always accompanied her and focused on the perfectly manicured landscape of the Holy Gardens. The Gardens connected the Temple Square and the Palace, and walking through them after her daily prayer was the highlight of most days.

Two pages, wearing the crimson and white livery of the Palace, approached her entourage at a run and dropped into low bows. One of the pages handed a letter to the Queen's secretary, Nuba Edova, as they breathlessly said their formalities. The secretary opened the letter and, deciding not to read it aloud, passed it to the Queen. Busuda glanced at the letter and then held it by her side, sighing.

===============================

Later that same day, Busuda met with some of the Council of Nuba to discuss the letter.

"I see no harm in opening diplomatic relations with Visaga, your Highness," High Priest Lohud said, in agreement with the rest of the Council. "Were they requesting an alliance, I would advise more caution, but this is merely good sense."

"We should send an emissary to Naya Clearing immediately. Buvaze Natyno is faithful and reliable," said Elici Nazawada, the Guardian of Tunimoba.

"It shall be done, then. Send Buvaze and an escort on one of the Navy's schooners, and send a letter to Queen Junna announcing her arrival," commanded the Queen.

"Quick!" To'Takka said. "Come with me!" he said running off to a large cave. "We don't get visitors too often! We like getting visitors often!" he was going at a skipping pace, making shudders through the city.

Orna tried and failed to keep up, too breathless to reply.

The Great White Spider sat in his throne, a large black thing made for an Arach. It overlooked the city of Kelliken, the large, shell like buildings shining under the moonlight of night. The waves crashed softly at the opposite side of the city. Next to him, sat his Chief Adviser, a reddish, purplish brown Spider, Mistress Jhalo.

On the other side sat Fyron Gastrus, an Otian human in the employment of the royal family of Arakesh, and Valens Creox's steward. "Fyron," Valens rumbled, "Write to the nations. Spymaster Theldry informs me the Nymphs are growing in their dislike of Arakesh. If that is so, we must be able to defend ourselves.

"Write to the humans south of them," Jhalo added in a deep, soothing voice. "Everyone, including the Visagans."

Fyron, a youth of twenty with a shaggy brown head of hair and a slim figure, nodded. He was rather brave when it came to humans; he had to be to serve such foreign creatures. But he was unnecessary; the spiders could not write without assistance from humanoids. "Shall you instruct me in what to write, Lord?" He asked. Valens made a noise that Fyron knew was the Arach version of a nod of approval. "Very well, Lord Creox."

Hagard


Brothers of Oten


Sprandriia:


Tarmargar:


Visaga:

To'Takka looked back at the slowing down Nymph, and ran back, shaking the ground. He picked up the small human looking creature and tried to pick her up and sling her over his soldier.