RP:Heroes of Diplomacy

Part of the Sauriangate Arc

Part of the Rise of Larket Arc

This is a Warrior's Guild RP.

Summary: Cold war at a cold dining table. Kreekitaka, Uyeer King, arrives with a flourish and his prize model Aptera. His goal is declaration of alliance with Frostmaw against Macon. With Queen Hildegarde busy elsewhere, Knight-Commander Lionel puts on his best poker face and fights in a duel of words and hopeful wit. He's joined by Krice, silver-haired enigma and recurring ally of recent events. Together, they can only try to deflect Kreekitaka and redirect him from too much Sauriangate influence. But that won't be easy.

Frostmaw: Fort Main Room

Lionel is not in his quarters. There’d be no rest for him there tonight and he’s left Briar with the day’s entire stack of papers. Lionel has not been in his quarters all day, in fact, and he’s not likely to change that until near enough to the hour of the wolf. Hovering over the most elaborate war table in all the realm, the Knight-Commander lifts a single pewter piece from the carved representation of the Queen’s Domain and slides it over to the green shading indicative of the forest known as Northern Sage. With a sigh, he shifts it again to the deep blue streak of the Vibrance River. Dressed in his finest crimson suit with its golden slashes and the brooch of Frostmaw over his right chest pocket, the Catalian is every bit the consummate Frostmawian dignitary. He’s been hunched over this table for what to him must only be a few moments, but guards begin to whisper when the truth is close to an hour. Thoughts of tomorrow’s mission. Thoughts of Macon, usurper to the Larketian throne. Thoughts of Kreekitaka, Uyeer King. Worry twists his brow as he begins to wonder what might happen if the crab should arrive while he and his allies are out on assignment tomorrow. They’d fold their hand politically without so much as a novice effort to be made. His fist clutches his chest, fresh scar from one of Macon’s Kingsguard still throbbing with memorable pain. Further moments pass. A lone soldier approaches. “My lord,” the man says, and Lionel rises from the table and awaits word. “Kreekitaka arrives, my lord.” Lionel exhales. “Alert Krice and the High Priestess. And let the games begin.”

Kreekitaka loved the way Frostmaw was built larger than he was, because it meant he could make much larger and grander entrances--for example, riding into the actual main area of the fort atop Vindicator. This is by no means a hypothetical example, either. The doors swung wide to reveal the crabman dressed in his full regal splendor--a white fur cape with a deep purple inside and a brilliant green trim. His kilt was decorated similarly--mostly a deep purple, if featured designs in bright green, white, and silver, of various creatures locked in combat with each other--not all of them sea creatures this time, notably. This time there were definitely saurians embroidered on his outfit. It seemed he still found time to do stitching and fabric-work, especially if it meant appearing more impressive himself. Around his neck was a long, intricate necklace which featured coral, gold and various precious stones--rather than sitting a crown atop his head, he seemed to have elected to wear a different form of jewelery. His sashes were also decorated with various beads and gemstones. He entered the room atop his riding scorpion--who was, fascinatingly, wearing armor of his own! Apparently not content with the exoskeleton of the creature as-is, Kree had elected to have plates of engraved metal fashioned for his creature's claws and sides. Such an armored creature made a great clattering sound as it moved, which would have to serve as his fanfare this time around because he hadn't had time to hire a horn section. Riding behind him was an uyeer magician, standing inside some kind of built-in magic circle on the harness, and hanging somewhere near him would be Aptera. "GreeTAH!ings, frienDAH!s!" he called in a loud voice as the creature strode into the courtyard, lifting his arms in greeting. "I bring gyaDAH! news for you!"

Aptera is merely here to play the role of beautiful accessory. Kreekitaka was, after all, the king of Fashion in this pitiful dry land. Hung in a magic harness of her own, she's spinning about amount various lengths of ribbons, clad in a duller purple and green leotard sparkly with sequin like beads. Nothing she's wearing outshines Kreekitaka. Her lith form weaves, as if underwater, between the draped ribbons atop the armored scorpion. The occasional melodic sound drips between her lips, a siren's song of low volume with no magical property entangled therein. Her fingers and toes (yes toes people, she has legs) are heavy with gold rings and coral stones.

Krice strode into the main hall in confidence but lacking arrogance, his shoulders squared and his body overall bearing no sign of the taxing battle the night prior. He was seemingly invincible, though perhaps to those who knew him well, a different picture would emerge. Blessed to be in the company of strangers and pseudo-strangers only, the warrior slowed to a halt just two metres south of the large war table, Lionel at his back and Kreekitaka making a racket even further south, in the courtyard. Dressed in his usual black attire with the sleeves this time down to his elbows, and his katana strapped to his back, the warrior looked every bit the part of a man who was simply visiting Frostmaw, not one directly associated. The woman-accessory atop Kreekitaka's scorpion drew his gaze and he stared for a moment, as if recognizing her enough to hesitate but not to identify her. They had met once before, in Cenril, but the memory was distant and he -was- preoccupied. Those gold-streaked eyes passed over the mage also accompanying the Crab-King and it was with visible stiffness that Krice regarded that Uyeer. Standing slightly off to the side and in a relaxed pose, the warrior hoped to project to Kreekitaka that he was not greeting him on any official level on behalf of Frostmaw. He lifted his right hand to flick a single wave at the sea-dweller, calling, " Hey. I... before you all get started, I just wanted to apologize for kind of leaving you without a word, the other day." Lowering his arm to his side, the warrior stiffly adjusted his stance as if to get comfortable and awaited Kreekitaka's reply, though not without a sideways glance at Lionel. It hadn't been his intention to interrupt, but he -did- need to get that apology out in the open.

Lionel is a far better actor than he’d ever lay claim. He’s all but mastered the art of masquerading as a man unequivocally -not- haunted by the ghosts of all those he presumes to have failed and every day of his life features at least one forced smile without a visible hint of falsehood. When the great doors of the realm’s largest active headquarters swing open to the trademark fanfare of a certain crustacean royalty, it’s an easy splendor for the Catalian to feign his absolute surprise. His azure eyes dart to and fro in a bid to appear caught off-guard, and he snaps his fingers in a wave to a nearby soldier to run and fetch the bread and salt. And shellfish. And more salt. Lionel has no idea whether Uyeer crave sodium but he has it on excellent authority they do at least crave shellfish. Krice’s quick glance is documented with a knowing but concealed return look. He clears his throat, swift in his warrior’s stride and already midway to Kreekitaka and his elaborate entourage. A candid flick of his perception is cast to the vivid woman held in harness. Better to appear the average man to the Uyeer -- better to appear fazed by feminine wiles. “Kreekitaka,” Lionel greets, “our fort is transformed from rote to pure luxury by your presence. Come in, come in. All are welcome in the Queen’s Hall. Food’s en route. I don’t know about you but I am positively famished.” Well, at least something’s true here. “But what in blazes brings you to a place like this?”

A pulse of cool magical energy suddenly begins in the heart of the Milous plains.

Kreekitaka was keeping half an eye on Aptera. She seemed to be quite taken with him, but she was still part of the group that had been running amok around Cenril and therefore could still possibly be dangerous. The rest of his attention was focused outward. When Krice stepped forward first, he gave a dismissive gesture and dismounted, motioning for the other two members of his entourage to do the same as he engaged the parking brake in Vindicator's harness. "NoTAH! TAH!oo worry--I am informeDAH! HHHTHaTAH! my magician--HHHTHis one--was trying TAH!oo make HHHTHe DAH!ay pass more swifTAH!yee, an' such a casTAH!ing requires much energy. I can easiyee comprehenDAH! your wish TAH!oo avoiDAH! any poTAH!entioh harm." Lionel was next, and he offered the man a light bow and rippled his paddles under his cape, pleased--nobody ever said buttering up crabs was a bad idea. "FooDAH! is much appreciaTAH!eDAH!. You ask why I come here--TAH!oo a ciTAH!ee in which I have heaviyee invesTAH!eDAH! much of my TAH!ime an' fortune? Hureig can give you HHHTHe exacTAH! numbers on jus' how much of Fros'maw is mine, buTAH! I come here for reasons unreyaTAH!eDAH! TAH!oo my business ventures here." Puffing himself up a little, Kree put forward a claw in a symbol of solidarity. "I am here TAH!oo ceyebraTAH! our vicTAH!ory over YarkeTAH!." A brief pause would follow to let that sink in--wait, *what*?!--before he elaborated: "You see, I have become aware of your spaTAH! wiHHHTH Macon, an' I have mayDAH! HHHTHe DAH!ecision TAH!oo join you an' unseaTAH! him. In facTAH!, I am confiDAH!enTAH! in my abiyiTAH!ee TAH!oo conquer him myseff. You neeDAH! noTAH! troubo your recovering warriors wiHHHTH anoHHHTHer war so soon."

Krice was a peripheral watcher, not a mainstayer, so as Lionel seamlessly slipped into his act of gracious - though blindsided - host, the warrior simply listened in. Kreekitaka's dismissal of his apology earned the crab a lopsided smile that hinted at a dimple in his left cheek. Was that genuine? The Crab King had been nothing but gracious during his stay at the Gualonian encampment, and it seemed as though his civility extended beyond those temporary borders. Good enough for Krice. As Kreekitaka spoke to the pleasant announcement he had made upon arrival, the warrior listened quietly and without much change in his expression or overall demeanour - until 'victory over Larket'. He had only visited Larket the day prior, and now... The warrior turned his head to gaze casually in Lionel's direction, though his Hero-Bro would be able to detect the communicated message amid crimson and gold: 'What the hell?' Since this was official Kreekitaka-to-Frostmaw business, Krice kept himself silent and observed Lionel's interaction with the Crab King. Perhaps he was talking presumptively... perhaps, so strong was Kreekitaka's belief that he could unseat Macon, that he would go so far as to announce victory before a battle had even begun, let alone had been won. The silver-haired enigma mulled over this thought while sparing a sideways glance toward Aptera, and then a more lingering look in the direction of the mage - before he landed his vision upon Kree once more.

Lionel chuckles casually at Kreekitaka’s accurate representation of economic might within the borders of Frostmaw. “Too true,” he agrees, as well-dressed maids puff in through discreet corridors with plates of bread and seafood platters. A pair of particularly bulky Frost Giants gather just behind them, pick up speed and slam their massive table down in a lavish dining hall directly to the right of all those presently gathered. To the world’s most preemptive victory speech, Lionel allows his jaw to slack -- but then again, it’s not entirely acting. Krice darts him a look and the man darts one right on back. Tale has been told of the crustacean’s legendary boast, but this is one for the history books. Nearby, Aptera twirls, delivering a haughty stare to the Catalian as if to tempt him into losing focus. His head turns so quickly the wink is hers and hers alone. It’s false, but it may do to satisfy. “All in good time,” he stalls with a bold smile. “I didn’t expect to awaken today to such unusually good news, but please, no worries for our soldiers.” His smile becomes a pleasant smirk. “Our warriors are well-rested -- ready to move at the snap of my finger.” A beat. A smirk becomes an innocent grin. “Shall we, then? I’ll not have it said our kingdom can’t at least throw a threadbare party for partners in business.” Partners. Kreekitaka will either respect the statement or otherwise, but the man in charge of military procedure won’t dignify the notion that the Uyeer entrepreneur has the high ground. He can’t. He leads the way, then, and the Frost Giant duo stand vigilant beside the entryway as they all approach the cuisine.

Kreekitaka found the news of Frostmaw's warriors ready to move heartening, at least somewhat--it meant they could indeed accompany him. A two-front approach to defeating Macon's army would surely prove more successful even than the plans he himself had. Before he could continue to expound on his plans, however, it was time to dine. "Aye," he said, nodding and gesturing to his small entourage to follow him. He certainly didn't mind the statement--here, after all, he was certainly less powerful than in other cities due to Hildegarde's limitations on just how much he was allowed to invest. Being considered a partner was what he wanted here, after all. Even if he did eventually want the city of Larket for himself, he needed to make this legitimate by acting as a new ally entering the fray. Approaching the table, both uyeer present politely pushed their chairs to the side and squat down on their hind legs, using their front pair of limbs for balance. There were ways to create chairs for uyeer, but the ones here didn't quite fit. He looked about at the spread of food and nodded appreciatively. "You choose your fooDAH!--hmm--" for a moment, Kree forgot the word he preferred over 'well', because seriously, "marveyousyee," he eventually decided on. Claws snapped open and tentacles extended for the seafood platters, scooping up a couple of smaller ones to begin. "So! Your warriors conTAH!inue TAH!oo hunger for baTAH!oh? ExceyenTAH!. An' HHHTHe way I pyan on accompyishing Macon's DAH!efeaTAH!, HHHTHey won'TAH! even have TAH!oo DAH!eoh wiHHHTH TAH!ighTAH! streeTAH!s an' roofTAH!op warriors aTAH!acking HHHTHeir faces." He rumbled internally, then tore into his first shellfish by cracking it with his facial crushers. It wasn't exactly the prettiest display, but that's where his taste buds were.

Krice diverted his attention from Lionel and Kreekitaka to instead watch the entourage of food-bearing Fort-staff on their entry. As the table was set up by Giants and covered with varied foodstuffs, the man's interest waned and he looked out toward the courtyard. Whether or not he was checking for other travelers with Kreekitaka remained to be seen, but as the Uyeer moved to settle at the table, Krice glanced toward them and watched from his place in a mostly-west spot in the center of the room. The smell of fish was overpowering, especially to one with so sensitive a nose as his, and for but a moment the warrior's outer strength cracked and he appeared a little less than well. The corridor of rooms to the west of the main hall drew his eye and he stared it momentarily, his reasons his own, before he approached the dining table. Once arriving, the warrior would stand before a vacant place, two spots over, and extend his right arm out to retrieve a palm-sized crescent of bread. Kreekitaka's style of eating was understandable due to the formation of his... mouth-parts, but that didn't allow the warrior to overcome how odd it looked. Unwilling to stare, Krice returned his focus to his own food. He remembered now where he had seen Aptera before; at Cenril's beach half-submerged in the tide. She had been mermaid, then, and he called her 'ugly'. Oops.

Lionel won’t let his grin slip to reveal his mounting worry that the High Priestess Leone will be unavailable to assist in delegations. So much must still be done to complete the preparations for tomorrow’s mission; her preoccupation is not a heavy surprise. Still, he worries. Nor is Krice’s quietness unexpected. Should the need arise, Lionel is utterly confident in the man to take the initiative and assist. Until then… “It’s the least we can provide,” he tells Kreekitaka, upon generous compliment to the gathered foodstuff. “But please, my friend. Understand that while we are anxious to hear your battle plans,” the truth in careful deceit is best served warm, “I cannot confirm an act without Queen Hildegarde’s express consent.” Now it’s time to cover tracks. If he misses a beat here the king might question her whereabouts and the scent of current weakness would prevail so thickly that anyone would smell it -- from Krice to the most nasally defunct of dwarves. “The queen would greet you herself, of course, were it not for her gracious work in other arenas. Anything you say now will be repeated to her to the letter but the more I am told the better her decision ought to be.” Better for Kree, the verbal inclination. Better for the realm, the statement Krice will hear instead. He scoops a half loaf of bread and rubs it over coarse salt. A bite.

Kreekitaka nodded at this, figuring that to be the case. A shame she wasn't here. As much as he respected Lionel for the fighter he was, he'd still have preferred to go straight to the top rather than deal with someone a bit lower. Kings and Queens should be able to meet with each other. "As I expecTAH!. I wish TAH!oo see her before I yeave HHHTHe ciTAH!ee, however." The words were not spoken as a request--rather, they carried across a tone far more similar to that of a decree. What he wished, he would see done. "As for my pyans. Macon is a fighTAH!er. We know HHHTHis because he was a parTAH! of your TAH!ournamenTAH!. An' my own peepo have reporTAH!eDAH! TAH!oo me his penchanTAH! for riying up HHHTHe Yarketians. So." Kree raised a claw and snapped it shut. "We issue him a chayenge. 'Bring your forces here. Winner TAH!akes HHHTHe ciTAH!ee.' If he refuses, he appears a cowarDAH! in HHHTHe eyes of HHHTHe peepo he keeps angry and hungry for a fighTAH!. If he refuses, I can cuTAH! off his ciTAH!ee's traDAH! abiyiTAH!ee an' puTAH! pressure on him. When he accepTAH!s, our armies crush his an' YarkeTAH! becomes ours!" So--a duel? A -grand- duel, between armies. Certainly not anything involving dinosaur migrations or using the tunnels.

Krice was halfway through a mouthful of bread - which he ate politely but not discreetly - when Lionel began the discussion with Kreekitaka, and he passed a crimson look from the Knight Commander over to the Crab King. He was attentive to both of them, Kreekitaka more so given the potential threat he posed. He squinted; sometimes the shelled male's odd-lingo escaped him. In this case: Abiyitah. Eeh. As he swallowed his first serving of bread, he realized that Kree -must- have been saying 'ability', for it sounded so, and it made the most sense. Breaking off another section of the bread, he set about eating his second serving, seemingly and bystander completely removed from the conversation taking place just two metres away.

Lionel did not break his smile for Leone’s unknown whereabouts but Kreekitaka’s queenly demand cracks at the edge of his lip and it very nearly falls into a scowl. The only thing saving him from defeat is the bread concealing his mouth. Taste the salt, Lionel O’Connor. “Your desires are noted, of course.” Now he flashes that smile anew. “I’ll inform her posthaste. Now these plans of yours -- dashing.” He chuckles. “I do a bit of dashing, myself. It’s a hobby. But, ah, although i’m intrigued, I wonder whether all those saurians will grow restless without a role of their own to play.” He lets it sink in for a scant two seconds. Aptera looks to the side, to Krice, then bats a lash. “Don’t get me wrong!” Lionel cheers, merry as he grabs a glass of wine. “When the twenty-first troop deployment got back to me on their monthly scouting and mentioned such a thing I couldn’t help laughing. What a thing. But just between friends, it’s odd that so many saurians should be sauntering steadily eastbound… all of a sudden.” He sighs convincingly. “Strange stuff, but a headache for me, if I’m open about it. I figured something had to be done so I’m just about ready to hike on out and hold myself a good old-fashioned dinosaur extermination mission.” He glances over to Krice and points candidly to the man with gusto. “Have you -seen- this guy with a sword? He’s lightning, the rain transformed. I wish I’d met him half a lifetime ago. If he tags along, I’m sure we’ll be successful in routing the beasts, but man, I really just do not want to mess up your saurian-wrangling festival. So -- in the spirit of mutual cooperation -- I just wanna be clear here. -These- saurians, these -Northern Sage- saurians, they’re not -your- saurians, right? Parked out front for the time to strike a king? I have to know because -that- would be -awkward.-”

Kreekitaka would have blinked, had he eyelids. Why, the dinosaurs he was raising were going to be his heavy cavalry! Heavy cavalry which was going to utterly rout whatever feeble force the false king could throw together. Heavy cavalry literally capable of eating the enemy. "I--" he starts, but then Lionel continues and he sits at attention, gaze never leaving the man even as he tore apart another shellfish. "...HHHTHere are DAH!inosaurs in NorHHHTHern Sage?" he asked, after a moment to process this and alter his plans accordingly. The reaction was genuine, and he lightly tapped the front of his face with a claw, thinking. That wasn't altogether too far from where he had his camp set up--if he could wrangle even some of them, he could potentially double his livestock and perhaps add delightful new species to hybridize. "I was noTAH! aware of a mass migration--HHHTHough," thinking back on the misadventure the original capture of that first creature had been, "when I captureDAH! my firsTAH! DAH!inosaur, a TAH!iny dragon goTAH! unDAH!erfooTAH! an' seTAH! fire TAH!oo HHHTHe grassyanDAH!--perhaps HHHTHere were many who became yosTAH! in HHHTHe fyames an' smoke." It seemed a reasonable enough explanation to Kree. "Or perhaps some Venturiyian saw HHHTHe fire an' copieDAH! iTAH! so as TAH!oo drive off HHHTHe animohs from HHHTHeir yanDAH!." He shrugged. "RegarDAH!yess, I mus' TAH!ake parTAH! in HHHTHis. HHHTHe uyeer are masTAH!er animoh trainers, an' I am sure wiHHHTH a corps of DAH!inosaur riDAH!ers among us, we can prevenTAH! such a mismigration TAH!oo be so DAH!angerous again." Speed chess, this. Provide a much more noble-sounding reason than 'build up even more forces', and the implication that he would share (or at least participate in protecting the land).

Krice was almost obliviously eating away at his first serving of bread, still standing in front of his chair rather than actually sitting on it, when Lionel turned the conversation onto him. He blinked, shooting the Knight-Commander a peripheral look that belied his indifference to the comments relating to his fighting ability. 'The rain transformed'? What the hell was that nonsense? The enigma's expression shifted subtly to reflect his opinion that Lionel was 'full of it', none too harshly, before he regarded Kreekitaka once more. With a second roll of bread in his right hand, he obviously prepared to continue eating. Indeed, Crab-King; the dinosaurs and reptiles that he and Lionel had encountered throughout the last few days... Were they resultant from Kreekitaka's activities? To hear Kree answer in the -negative- gave Krice pause and he studied the sea-creature quizzically, but not in obvious surprise. The following answer was listened to, the warrior attentive and thoughtful, but he at last broke his silence to add his own opinion on the matter. " You don't have to train them, King," he said to Kreekitaka. " Lionel and I can drive them back to the west. We're practically experts, ourselves." He shot a brief look at the Knight-Commander before lifting his left hand to take hold of the bread, ready to break it apart. As fluffy pastry flaked along a jagged line made by the pulling of alternate ends, Krice teetered in place and transfered the food to his left hand that he could catch himself with the right, fingers tenting over cutlery arranged on the table-top. A clink and clatter of silverwhere betrayed his facade of strength and lightheadedness became a thing. What a damn bother. His head was momentarily low, silver strands concealing the tiredness in his face. After allowing himself a second to regain composure, the enigma opted at last to take the seat beside which he had been standing, leaving the bread on the table to remove his katana from its place against his back before he sat. Holding the weapon next to his right thigh, Krice released a casual sigh and blinked focus back to his eyes. Sitting helped.

Lionel is momentarily broken. He won’t show it -- of course -- but Kreekitaka’s response has rendered him speechless. He wages that the bulk of his most recently-played card had the intended effect, but the Uyeer King’s instant adamant desire to leap aboard and assist could cost them the war if he can’t find a way around the bargain. Telling the Uyeer outright that the Warrior’s Guild has every intention to conceal any Frostmawian involvement in saving the Northern Sage’s population from dinosaur consumption was an option. But it was a bad option. It would make clear the hesitation marks on Lionel’s mind about complete immediate cooperation with Kreekitaka in the fight against Macon. Kreekitaka might ask how and why Uyeer presence in the expedition isn’t anything but a boon. It’s no boon if it tips Larket’s head in awareness of an alliance Lionel O’Connor has no intentions of confirming. He requires time to inform the queen. Time he’ll need to spend with Krice, too, who continues to prove invaluable. Time he is beginning to feel like he simply does not have. A sip of wine. An intrigued expression. It’s all he can do as he thinks. ‘Lionel and I can drive them back to the west.’ Everything crystallizes. Krice may have just drawn pocket aces. “Yeah,” he says, smirking toward his companion. Krice really is invaluable. “We’ll drive them right to you. Cut off the edge of the pack and force them in a sweep. Just so happens that sweep will give you the cavalry of your dreams.” And if it ‘just so happens’ that more saurians should fall in tomorrow’s mission than Kreekitaka might like, well, they really are practical experts. “I like it.” The only lie is that in fact he -loves- it.

Kreekitaka grunted. That seemed like a doable strategy, but there was something missing. Namely, fun. Also, experts they may be, but so too was he knowledgable about animal behavior. And it seemed to him like a few soldiers weren't going to be able to herd anything without somebody getting flattened or eaten. "How many are parTAH!icipaTAH!ing?" he asked, sounding a little unconvinced, munching on another shellfish. "Because if you DAH!irecTAH! such yarge creatures wiHHHTH a broken yine, someboDAH!ee is going TAH!oo be hurTAH!. However, prey animohs fear HHHTHeir naturoh preDAH!aTAH!ors, yes?" He rippled his paddles, flaring them slightly, as his own plans solidified. "I have such creatures traineDAH! an' reaDAH!ee TAH!oo go. WiHHHTH some maneuvering, we can DAH!irecTAH! an enTAH!ire herDAH! righTAH! inTAH!oo a cyoseDAH! area of HHHTHe pyains. Your forces can assisTAH!, conTAH!aining straggyers, buTAH! I beyeev you are going TAH!oo finDAH! a much yarger amounTAH! of success wiHHHTH my assisTAH!ance." Because... well, why swing an axe when the chainsaw is right there, gassed-up and ready to go?

Krice turned his head to glance between Lionel and Kreekitaka, focusing his thoughts on the conversation. Now seated, he was a little less prone to losing his balance and once more reached for the bread, breaking one third off the rest to gnaw on it. Kreekitaka's suggestions seemed more like ultimatums than advice, but he could see the advice there, too. Responding, Krice shifted in his chair to align his gilded eyes with the Crab-Man's. " What about the creature you offered to let me ride? I can come back to your location, have a test run, and then return up this way to get to work." How many would be involved? Well... " You need to focus your efforts on other things, anyway."

/might have briefly entertained the notion that he and Krice have locked down this communicative duel. Kreekitaka’s keen sense is enough to topple that perception with economic efficiency. He sips his wine and eats the remainder of his dish; suddenly, he wishes there were meat and potatoes on this plate. Or maybe that’s just his stomach doing flips? “That,” he picks up without losing chipper edge in his tone, “is a -damn- fine point. That’s what I’m talking about -- no wonder we get along so well.” He tips his glass to the crab. Inwardly, he’s contemplative. Without realizing, he awaits Krice’s next move. Together, they can salvage this. “There’s a decent angle, too. I agree with Krice.” More at 11. Then it occurs to him. The way out is through. “And if you really must send some of those saurians, your majesty, it suddenly occurs to me you might want to do it without revealing your banners.” Suddenly, eh? “Thing of it is, I know the queen. She’s going to look at this and she’s going to say, ‘goodness, gracious, Lionel, we can’t just show them our whole deck.’ When I speak with her, she’s going to hear out your whole big plan to take down Macon, and she’s going to weigh her options and get right back to you. And I think she’d agree with me that this operation ought to be handled quietly. Now, now, I understand. Why not go in all the way? Well, frankly, because I’m all about timing. I am of the -firm- opinion that if and when your forces and ours go in on Larket, it had best be done in total surprise to the enemy. Macon wakes up to a report tomorrow that Uyeer were on his border, Macon’s going to feel an awful bit suspicious. You might not care, but I’m asking as a friend -- entertain me.”

Kreekitaka was again caught off-guard, at least a little bit, by this talk of banners and hand-showing. As far as he was aware, he hadn't told Macon of his plans to take the city--but then, he had been visited by a Larketian, who subsequently refused his offer to join in... it was possible Macon already knew that Kree was planning something, and something involving dinosaurs. However... "I DAH!isagree," he said, taking another bite of shellfish before continuing. "I am known by aomos' everyone in YarkeTAH!. I have a shop HHHTHere, you know, an' I have been invesTAH!ing in businesses HHHTHere, aoso. Hearing HHHTHaTAH! yarge creatures bear DAH!own on HHHTHe ciTAH!ee oughTAH! TAH!oo spur me an' mine TAH!oo action, yes? If I go in an' announce HHHTHaTAH! I wish TAH!oo hepp save HHHTHem from DAH!estruction--an' since Fros'maw wanTAH!s TAH!oo sTAH!ay quieTAH! abouTAH! HHHTHis--an' since noboDAH!ee has TAH!oo know I am joining HHHTHe baTAH!oh as a frienDAH! of yours--you see where I'm going? I pubyicyee DAH!ecyare my supporTAH! of saving HHHTHem, an' HHHTHey expecTAH! me TAH!oo supporTAH! Macon, by exTAH!ension. MighTAH! even make HHHTHem reyax more, knowing HHHTHe uyeer are on HHHTHeir siDAH!." What an excuse to go in guns blazing--using the sheer audacity of the maneuver as a subtle misdirection play.

Krice observed Lionel quietly through his monologue, words resonating with enough logic that he agreed. When Kreekitaka replied, he diverted his gaze, the crab's rebuttal ensuring that his attention remained locked on the Crab-King. A thoughtful frown touched the enigma's brows over the argument that was presented. He narrowed an eye, contemplation heavily shadowing an otherwise distant expression. The more Kreekitaka said, the more this warrior became engrossed. Whatever his deeper thoughts on the matter, Krice spoke to more surface issues, which were still considerable when peace was a stake. " If you go in, claws a'snapping, and take down so significant a threat as saurians on Larket's southern border, the people may be thankful to you, but Macon himself would consider -you- a threat to -him-; someone who has the strength to fell such terrifying beasts could put up a decent fight against an army of humans." Pause. " He'll take precautionary measures, may even attack you -first- - and there goes your element of surprise." And then there was another thing of significant concern - from Kreekitaka's perspective, anyway. " But... If Macon is so bad a king, why would the people support him and expect you to do the same? What would they think of you if you overthrow him? That would jeopardize your businesses, and the Larketians would no longer support you, or rely on you. " The warrior leaned sideways in his chair, resting his right elbow on the edge of the table. Past his shoulder, he regarded the Crab-King, his features harbouring genuine concern for the prospects of Frostmaw's visitor. " The people wouldn't be very happy with their new ruler--you--and that's no way to run a city." The silver-haired enigma adopted a thoughtful frown.

Lionel is aware that time is running out. Time. Now there's a damned thing. There's never enough time after all. Final preparation for the looming mission must needs be attended. The queen must needs be notified. Everything balances on the edge of this coin called diplomacy and Lionel and Krice have been granted as much as they'll get from the Uyeer King. It's time to reel this in. Quickly and cleanly. "You're both right, I think," he admits in his own way. The way out remains through. "Kreekitaka, Krice's concern for your element of surprise is justified. Do this too loudly and the people may cheer but Macon himself will scowl. Now, under normal circumstances I'd argue that this is ideal for you." A beat. "For us, really." He won't commit to alliance but he can skirt the lines of appeasement. The king's not stupid -- he'll know there has been no statement of agreement. Only an agreement to discuss matters further. "Macon has impeccable sway with those people right now. Gaining their cheer may be harder than all this -- and in the meantime, it could cost you." Costs. Fees. High fantasy's very own bounced checks. "You do you, though." He literally says this. "I'd caution against too much volume. A happy middleground and the happenstance that Uyeer should happen upon the forest. Just not -a ton- of Uyeer. Let Krice and I do what we do best. And we'll send along a scribe to discuss specifics. My friends, the hour grows late and I've all sorts of things left on the agenda. Might I trouble you to adjourn this for the eve?"

Kreekitaka did eventually see the wisdom in bringing only a chosen few, despite how badly he wanted to go at it full-force and confront this situation with everything he had. Using just enough dinosaur riders to contain a mass migration would be easier to get moving and harder to notice by the authorities. He supposed it would probably be for the best, and nodded in agreement. First, though, to Krice. "Oh! No, I meanTAH! you coulDAH! ryDAH! VinDAH!icaTAH!or wiHHHTH me. HHHTHere was pyenTAH!ee of room for you, an' you woulDAH! have been no burDAH!en TAH!oo him." Given how much Kree and his gear weighed, not to mention a -second- uyeer and all -his- gear, -plus- the weight of the armor, this was probably a true statement. "As for your requesTAH!. I... suppose I can accommoDAH!aTAH! you." The show of reluctance was in fact genuine. "A few, TAH!oo guiDAH! whaTAH! I catch back TAH!oo my camp. If I am TAH!oo have HHHTHis reaDAH!ee in TAH!ime, I mus' yeave immeDAH!iaTAH!yee." He stood, and offered a light bow to the others, clenching his facial crushers. "See TAH!oo iTAH!," he said, voice once more taking on the steely tone of a king making a demand, "HHHTHe Queen is informeDAH! of my pyans as soon as possibo. When I reTAH!urn here, I speak wiHHHTH her, an' she is going TAH!oo make TAH!ime for me." Just like they weren't going to accept him as being superior, neither was he going to be treated like some child playing pretend, spoken down to simply by refusing to let him speak with the proper head of state. He returned to his more formal and relaxed tone immediately after making his demand. "HHHTHe meoh was yoveyee. Io make sure when you visiTAH! my YarkeTAH! HHHTHaTAH! you are TAH!aken care of in equoh or greaTAH!er spyenDAH!or!" Then, with a swirl of his cape, he turned to depart. Gotta make real good time.

Krice stood from his chair at Lionel's conclusion, pressing his right hand into the table top for a moment's balance. Thereafter, he reached for another loaf of bread. No point in letting this food go to waste, right? After securing his katana to his back once more, the warrior broke that bread in half and turned to face both the Knight-Commander and the Uyeer King. The latter's clarification about Krice's mount earned him a realizing, " Oh," from the warrior, who then fell silent to listen to the remainder of Kree's answer. The demanding tone didn't sit well with him, as told by the shadow if displeasure in his eyes, but he curbed it while the crab-man was glancing at Lionel, obscured behind a stoic facade before those odd sea-eyes focused on him once more. Only as Kree returned to his more amicable personality did Krice himself settle, and it was with a bow of his head that he watched the Crab-Man depart. Thereafter, whilst shoving a quarter of his second bread-serving into his mouth, the silver-haired enigma shoot a thoughtful look across the table at Lionel.

Lionel isn't oblivious to the fact that negotiations have come to a tie. He'll call it pyhrric victory that the queen's absence is pushed to the background and no express agreements have been made -- and the Uyeer King isn't roiling over that. He'll silently pray the events come morning don't spiral out of orbit when those Uyeer undoubtedly arrive to play. And he'll feel a bitter surge in his heart as he realizes that tonight he has practiced the role of every staling scheming politician he has ever detested so. "Your grace does Frostmaw great honor," he finds himself saying, as he rises to bow. "The queen will be pleased not to miss your excellence when next you arrive. And... ah, I look forward to Y -- ah, -Larketian- cuisine." He covers the lapse with a full smile and concludes the bow, watching the dignitaries depart. Aptera watches both chiseled human warriors for a little longer than the rest. Is that wistfulness in her faux-innocent blink? When they're gone, the man slumps into his chair and cannot recall a time he's more grateful to be himself again. He covers his mouth and leans down, elbows to the table. A lengthy exhale follows. "I have a headache the size of my head."

Krice watched Kreekitaka depart with his mage and - trophy fish? - Aptera, his attention lingering on the latter only briefly. Her expression did little to soften his disposition, failing to inspire sympathy. When Lionel slumped in his seat and complained of a headache, the warrior leaned against the back of -his- chair with his arm resting across the top, and he squinted pensively at the fort entrance. " He's so... amicable," he commented, more offhanded than anything else. Clearly troubled, he frowned and added, " Maybe it's the accent. It makes him seem young and innocent, I guess - almost naive, like his desire to take over a city is as harmless as a kid playing with building blocks." His musings really were pointless at this stage, but he gave them voice nevertheless. " It'd be like attacking a kid if I ever had to cut him." Lifting the remainder of his bread, the enigma took another mouthful to gnaw on while he listened to Lionel's reply.

Lionel lays his weary head to rest atop a closed right fist now, that one elbow at the table. With the other arm, he swoops over some bread and gobbles it down, bitterly. "I know what you mean, Krice. I really do. But the building blocks in his eyes are real people. People with lives swept in a new and possibly loathsome direction under his rule if he gets his way. I feel it." He sighs. "Not, like, some magical feeling. I just... -feel- it." Another sigh. He rises from his chair; the Frost Giant guards enter the hall and assist returning maids in clearing plates. Further bread is left for Krice, should he desire it. "Long night ahead of us." And not long enough. "I don't know what we'll find out there tomorrow, but I'm glad you're going with me." He starts to pace to the perimeter of the dining hall, just slowly enough to avoid cutting the enigma off should he wish to voice further.

Krice didn't for one second mean to downplay he threat Kreekitaka posed to Larket, and every other city into which he got his pincers, but he left the conversation there. With Lionel rising, the warrior held his tongue; he wasn't much for conversation on the best of days. After chewing his second mouthful of his second bread bun, the enigma retrieved a third from the bowl atop the table and turned away to approach the corridor of rooms, seeking Leone's chambers once more. " Rest up," he said to Lionel in passing. " Who knows how crazy it'll get out there."