Tales of Everand

Prologue

The high walls of Heathervorne City once offered a safe feeling to many of the citizens. Now the streets are deserted for this time of the morning, save for a few people hurrying along with their heads down and eyes darting around. On a normal day the market place would be full of people bartering with the traders both city based and travellers. The street kids would run between them, trying to find scraps to steal, and the guards would spend most of the morning chasing them in a futile attempt to "bring them to justice".

For Lochlan Willis, these grey walls still offer the same safe feeling he has felt all his life within these walls. In his youth, he sat behind these walls as the human nation fought against itself during The Sundering, and then again while he helped with restoring order and splitting the nation into the three countries that exist today.

He arrived at the palace where the king had requested his presence. He couldn't say he's surprised his old friend has needed his diplomatic nature more and more with the arrival of the Vrakuul on the southern shore. King Leopold is a great man in many respects but diplomacy is definitely not his strong suit, especially not with a race that has never graced Everand before suddenly turning up with no warning.

He strides through the corridors, heading straight for the Throne Room where Leopold is in deep talks Queen Vilrande, of Namria and Minister Thompson of Ningarde. The stained-glass window behind the throne the only source of light. The table between them holding a large-scale map of Everand and littered with markers. The air in the room thick with tension, even the guards stationed at each door around the room shift uneasily. The fear of the unknown is greatly underestimated.

"Do we really have a choice here?" Thomspon says, his brow furrowed deeper than any river Lochlan knows. His brown hair that is usually slicked back now spiky in places from combing his hand through it repeatedly. His face red with fustration. His mustard tunic really not doing anything for him.

"We don't know what they want and we sure as hell don't know what they are about. With so little intelligence is it really worth launching an assault on them?" Leopold questions. Ceremony is most definitely out the window for this meeting as he stands there in what can only be described as a pink nightshirt and black stockings.

Just be glad he's on the opposite side of the table to Vilrande Lochlan thinks to himself That is not a sight the Queen should see. Not a sight anyone should see come to think of it.

Lochlan looks at one of the guards near him, who simply shakes his head swiftly, as if to say "Just don't bring attention to it". He stays by the door and watches the meeting, studying each player and their actions. The next few minutes will be critical for his entrance to the meeting.

"All we know is that these creatures live in wooden huts and fight with hand weapons. There has been no mention of siege weapons. How can they be a threat against a well-aimed ballista bolt?" Thompson asks. "I could have battalion there by nightfall."

"Just because they seem primitive does not mean they are a threat to be underestimated," Vilrande interjects, with a tone that clearly rattled the minister. The woman coined the "Queen of Class" today adorned with a silver circlet on her head and peach, figure-hugging gown.

"So then we strike first. Get the element of surprise" Thompson says, his voice getting higher and his face redder as he gestures at the markers in front of him. "The less they know the quicker our victory."

Lochlan had heard enough. They were talking about starting an international war now. Since when did they think the nations had recovered enough after The Sundering for another war. These people have millions of lives in their hands and the minister of the country that caused the beginning of the split of the human nation wants to start a war?

"Excuse me, your highnesses, minister," Lochlan says, asserting his presence to the room. "Rather than starting aggressive negotiations. Have any of you made attempts to speak with them and find out why they are here?"

The room is silent for a moment. The Queen suddenly becomes fascinated with a marker in the shape of a bear's head and the minister appears to have a colony of ants move into his britches. Leopold looks at the two with a look that could kill, and sighs heavily.

"We sent a messenger a little over a fortnight ago and he has not returned," Leopold says.

"Who did you send?" Lochlan asks.

"Brandon Purell" the king replies.

"Hmmm, strange that he hasn't made contact," Lochlan says, his eyes narrowed and mouth twisted to the side. "With your permission, your highness, I would like to go and speak with the Vrakuul and see if I can figure out the meaning for their appearance"

Leopold looks for a moment at Lochlan then at the other two leaders, who nod in agreement. Leopold growls and nods at Lochlan.

"Take someone with you, and you had better be back within the week, or so help me I will put you in the Stockade for a year," Leopold says, his voice low. Someone did not get up on the right side of the bed. "Come back dead and I'll find you in whatever bowels you go to and kill you myself."

"Yes, Sire," Lochlan says with a smirk as leaves the room. "I'll see you the afterlife"