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[right][hr][color=gray][b]Wal Ddraig, The Kingdom of Môrogoed[/b]
Ancient Pyre[/color][hr][/right]
[indent]Cynfor had remained at Wal Ddraig for some time after he arrived, holding still at the dragon’s pyre. For the majority of his attendance at the old ruins he had spent it re-reading the old moon runes that littered the historical tellings of the dragons, their kobold servants, and the language they spoke; a scripture Cynfor’s people had described as “draconic”. He needed to be ready when the kobolds arrived to discuss tribute. The customs of the dragonborn were strange and archaic, but his people had not warred with them in centuries for a very good reason. The great old dragon may have been hungry but he was also a wise neighbor. It served no one to deny him his treasure and food.

However, on this night he would not have much more time to think on the culture and language of the dragonborn. It was time. He could feel it in the air, even before one of the scouts came to him to announce their arrival.

“Pathfinder. They’re here.”

The blond-haired elf nodded, “Very well.”

He moved from his position at what would have been the castle’s courtyard, hands behind his back. It didn’t take him long to meet the eyes of his ‘guests’, though he could see the tension in the rangers that were accompanied around the ruin in case the discussion went sour. His fellow elves were paranoid, but less so than they would have been had they met with humans instead of kobolds. At the very least there was a sort of honor and shared pride among them. Cynfor was confident that everything would end without issue.

“Welcome to Wal Ddraig, neighbors and friends of mana’s breath. I hope we can come to a favorable conclusion on this night of ours.” Cynfor bowed, showing them the proper courtesy of equals. His words were in draconic, though he was not the best speaker in the language by any means. He was not the archdruid, after all. He knew it only because of the responsibilities he held as a pathfinder; he was no scholar.

A trio of kobold shamans stood before Cynfor and a great many pairs of eyes glinted at the elf in the darkness behind the kobolds in the light. 

“On behalf of the mighty Calemvir, King Under the Mountain and Lord of the Western Border, we commend your wisdom” The shaman in the middle stated, “Though this comes as little surprise to us. Our lord has always said that you were the wisest of the mortal races. We too hope for a mutually beneficial conclusion. We believe you will find us to be reasonable.” 

The shaman to the left continued, “So long as you yourselves remain reasonable also.”

There was a brief pause as the kobolds took a moment to consider their demands.

“Now that the greeting is out of the way, let the negotiations commence. Our raiding parties will leave your lands untouched so long as you provide ten raft loads of good quality livestock every month until summer’s end, five raft loads of gold, silver, jewels, or any other items of value you may have on hand every month until summer’s end, and allow us free passage along the river until summer’s end so that we may claim riches and horse flesh from the half-elves to the east for our master. If you wish to make a counter offer, we will hear you out and give it due consideration.”

Cynfor considered the options, arms still tucked behind his back. As a pathfinder it was his responsibility to find the ‘best’ path when it came to conflict that endangered his sector of elven territory. Admittedly, he wasn’t a steward of any ability. The kobold’s demands sounded reasonable given the rejection meant dealing with the genuine threat of dragon’s fire raining down from above. The people of Morogoed were experiencing a new golden age and certainly could afford such losses as far as he could tell.

“I must send word to my own king, but I believe these will be agreeable terms.” He responded back in kind.

“It pleases us, and by extension the mighty Calemvir, that we could reach an agreement in such a timely manner.” The shaman in the middle said.

“A week from now, we will return with fifteen rafts to collect this month’s tribute.” The shaman to the left continued, “Should your king have reservations about our arrangement, we can renegotiate then.”

“In the meantime, let your people know that should they spot a kobold raiding party rafting down the river, they can rest assured that it will not be their homes that are sacked.” The shaman on the right added, “So long as they leave the kobolds alone that is.”

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