“Inhabitants of this city! I am Ashlani, fahvalo of Bloodpriestess Ana of the Moonchildren, Alpha of my swarm, and saharliard of those who wish me no ill. I wish to speak to your leader, peaceably!”

After a few moments, Sybil’s voice cut through the pregnant silence.

“... Was there no more diplomatic way to present yourself?”

“Well… I think I did pretty well.”

“And why did you not give a meeting location? Talk about who you are bringing? Given any more detail?”

Sybil was unimpressed by my attempted diplomacy, even though she had approved of the general approach I had decided to take. I couldn’t help but feel that she probably was right, so I simply turned my gaze to the city walls, hoping to see what reaction my words had garnered.

With my [Raptor’s Eyes], I could see that there was immediate movement in response to my shouts, but again, I was frustrated by my inability to see exactly what was going on, since I couldn’t see anything more specific than just “movement”. At least my situation was better than the rest of my companions who were nearby, since they relied entirely upon my personal relaying of information to begin to try to react to the situation at hand. After a moment though, as I saw that there wasn’t anything I could see happening, I turned to Took.

“Could you go make sure that the swarm begins approaching? If necessary, it’d be better to have backup.”

Sybil smirked over her shoulder at me. “At this point, you really should know better.”

“You already had them begin approaching?”

Just a nod answered me, and I couldn’t stop the chuckle from bubbling over in my throat. “You’re right. I should have known.” I lowered my head to hers, bunting it gently. “Thanks, Sybil.” A gentle tap of her tail answered me as she directed Foire to go back and grab whoever he considered to be most capable and potentially helpful in the upcoming meeting. With a nod, he jogged off, just quick enough to miss me relaying the next interesting bit of information: The gate of the town was opening.

…

It wasn’t long before I could see the reason that the gates were opening. A large figure in resplendently shining plate armor stepped out, a large poleaxe used as a walking stick thumping the ground in tandem with their steps. I realized I was only imagining the steps and striking weapon shaking the earth as I stepped out into the cleared plain and approached the lone figure. The sound of their steps rolled like booming thunder with each step, and the grass around them shivered as if electrically charged as their implacable approach continued.

Before the armored individual got too close, I called out to warn them, “Hello again, I am Ashlani the khatif, a keelish who simply wishes to guide his fellows past your village. Would you introduce yourself?”

A squeaky male voice echoed out of the full armor. “I’m Drolick, the head warrior and mayor of Shandr, this here city you see before you. Frankly speaking, why should I begin to trust you and not kill you where you stand? You gotta understand that even if you can talk, in the best of times your people are a pest, and in the worst… well, there’s a whole lotta bloodshed on both sides.” The voice itself was a polar opposite of intimidating, but the tone was firm and implacable, just as his armor was. I realized belatedly that the armor wasn’t shining in the suns’ light, but instead emanated its own intricately patterned light irrespective of the sunlight.

“Well, there are hundreds of us, and we simply want to pass peaceably. If we do, we will no longer consume the prey found on this side of the Sheer Pass and will soon leave anyplace near your jurisdiction without quarrel or bloodshed. If our hands are forced, we will shed the blood necessary to ensure our escape in this direction. Yours and our own.” I didn’t speak with any particular inflection, but Drolick obviously started within his armor at the reality that it was me that spoke, and then at the near emotionless cast with which I stated my willingness to slay and die to earn the right to pass.

Drolick’s armored figure approached, finally approaching to just outside the reach of my spear. He was tall, over 2m, and the glyphs or paintings that adorned his armor shimmered, making him seem even more mysterious and powerful at this much closer proximity. “You dare threaten my people to my face?”

“Let’s not play games. It isn’t a threat but a statement of fact, allowing us to focus on reality. Your people would almost certainly hunt us as much as they could muster, and slay many of us, but you cannot guarantee the survival of every one of your subordinates in a pursuit. I want to keep our numbers as high as possible, and see no reason to kill your people if we can pass by peaceably.”

A hacking noise sounded from within the armor, and a small vent opened near the right breast of the chestplate before a muddy brown drop of spittle shot out. “I really should kill you, according to what the ‘gods’ say.” The emotional slant to his words was palpable and bitter. “But I never been too obedient to what nearly omnipotent but still stupid so-called ‘gods’ say, so why not. Pass by during the night, I don’t want the civvies to see how many of you there’re. Move along, because any of you we see in the morning is a pest and will be summarily dealt with. Clear?”

I smirked. “Clear enough for me. Anything to look out for as we pass by?”

“Nothing I’m willing to tell you. Welcome to the Badlands, where the rejected and angry band together. Don’t piss us off more than we already are.” The helmet nodded curtly and jogged away, back to the city walls of Shandr. The armor sounded suspiciously hollow, but there was something inside… I shrugged, and dismissed the thought: now, just to rest until true dark, and we’d pass by. Right?