Firesworth, Captial of the 19th clan

The center piece of Fireswroth was without question the citadel, a massive stone structure that stretched towards the heavens. According the accepted history of the 19th this fortress was built by the 1th clan during the age of greatness, it was used to apparently to cast great spells of glorious proportions that could create lakes of molten steel, combustion of the very air itself and turn anything in a living breathing clan member loyal to the first ones. The site of a rat mage standing on that giant pillar, calling out to its own gods must have been glorious. A truer symbol of clan might had to have never existed.

Now the tower served as keep and throne to whoever ruled the united clans. It had become dilated on the outside, as the march of time slowly corroded the outside, as to now take a color of green. However on the inside it was as strong as ever, if not stronger. The blanks that used to hold up the walls had been upgraded with iron, cold hard iron from the ground and swords of the clan’s enemies. The floors had traps placed for unwary and foolish, which ranged from simple pitfalls in to spikes, to fake treasure chambers with poised gold, which if one touched would infect the body with devious germs. It was indeed a fortress in the clan’s unusual style. It had extensive activity all day and night, as retainers, warriors and of course politicians all scurried along, every single one a plotter or a victim. The walls had small claw marks, since the rat kin had the ability to clime easily on the soft wood that made the inner wall, and some even preferred that to walking on the risky and heavily trapped ground. All around, in the shadows moved the shadow broods finest assassins, ready to pounce at the right target for the right sum. The mood was always paranoid efficiency, as each clan member strived to show themselves superior to the next. 

Amerila had been here before… several times. She had played in these halls as a young child, first time she fell in to a trap was at the age of 6…she still bore a scar from one the pikes in the pit ripping her skin off. She from that day on had a fear for sharp objects, which while she had overcome now still haunted her slightly as she passed through the halls. As rules dictated no body guard was allowed inside, so her own had moved to the local barracks, no doubt starting fights with the Fresh brood and looking for weaklings to abuse. As was their right according to tradition. She however had business to attend to. The news had reached her during her travels of a expedition being launched, under the command of certain minotaur by the name of Gerntefs, Amerlia wondered if her mother would approve of sending a detachment to assist in such an in devour. For if successful with rat aid, the 19th clan could build up their currently poor reputation witch made her life as ambassador half impossible. 

The center of the citadel was a massive round aula, with several seats made out of stone. In the center there was a table and a throne where the current ruler of the united tribe would be seated during the hearings and debate of the politicians. The system was very simple, a politician would make her case and others could debate it. When the ruler was happy with the debate she would either choose to vote about the motion or simply decree it herself. Since the nature of the rat’s was that it was, it often was more dependent on the proposer of the action then her arguments that decided what happened. As Amerlia entered a Rat stormed out of the room to the sound of laughter and cackling. Her proposal had to been defeated by the rest of the gathered. She quietly took a seat on the left side of the room as she waited until she was called by the Caller, a politician who called out the order of speakers. She had to wait for an hour. 

[I]’’Next….Ambassador Amerlia’’[/I] 
[I]’’Thank you Caller.’’[/I] She stood up and went to the center, and noticed her mother. She had grown that was true. But she still had the same eyes of malice, and her body was still one of the finest in the clans land. Next to her old claws was the legendary Swamp Sword, with its green and almost rusty looking blade. Her fur had been cleaned and sparkled with the same green a grass field had instead of the normal swamp color. She also wore amour indoors, again tradition for rulers fearing backstabs always wore amour to avoid it. Amerlia saw that she had recently eaten something, as small morsels was stuck in her fur around her mouth. 

Next to her however stood a true viper. Ghenna Mistress of shadow…the lady and master of the shadow brood and the finest assassin ever trained. Amerlia knew nothing of her past, only that she and her had played in the same pens when they were children…then by about the same time as she fell in to a pit she was removed from the clans land…she returned when Amerlia was an adult now a cold unfeeling assassin. Her fur had been dyed coal black to meld in to the darkness, and she wore black hoods where she could store hidden weapons and escape tools. While Mothers eyes burned with malice, Ghenna’s eyes where cold and unfeeling truly unnatural for anyone to see. Amerlia gave them both a nod, again custom dictated that so was the case, before she started with her speech. 

[I]’’I am not one to stand on ritual and ceremony without cause. The 19th clan faces more treat now then it has ever done. Our reputation is non-existent, our trade is weak and our foes a many.’’[/I] The crowd started to grumble and mumble as she went on.
[I]’’I have seen the lands outside ours with my own eyes. They hate us, the other races. The despise us and some simply want us off the map’’[/I] A rat rose in response, fueled by anger
[I]’’They are simpletons! How could they understand our struggles and hardships?! They don’t live of swamp and dirty water! They live in green hills and clean castles!’’[/I]. Amerlia expected such a selfish retort
[I]’’Green hills have issues that are the same size and problematic nature as our own. We are not alone in that regard.’’[/I] The other rat sat down somewhat bitterly

[I]’’We are a race with a proud linage. We are also a race on the edge of forever disappearing. The Darkness…’’[/I] As she mentioned the darkness several rats rose in protest again with several vocal comments
[I]’’Ambassador well knows the Darkness would reach us in a hour if it so wished! The other races are not nearly in such a easily attacked spot!’’[/I] Amerlia started to walk around the hall, gesturing as she talked. 

[I]’’Then why is an expiation being called? Why has the Minotaur Freg Gerntef called all to aid him if he does not fear the Darkness just as we do?!’’[/I] She turns and steers at our mother
[I]’’My proposal then is…. my Queen… is that we send a messenger with the humble question if they wish our aid in their endeavour.[/I] Before the protest rose again, The queen stuck her claws in to the air as to silence the politicians. She stood up from her throne and spoke. She had always had a charismatic voice, only slightly tinted by her own evil

[I]’’As ruler of the clans I decree that this will be done. No vote will be held. So say I and so say all.’’[/I].

The room quietly withdrew their angry protests and responded ‘’So say you and so say all’’ 

[Hider=Important actions]
-	A bird with an message of peace and assistances is sent to Harnia
-	The mobilization of troops goes on high gear
[/Hider]