[center][h2]The Confederacy[/h2][/center] [hr] The God-Empress stood upon a hill, the very same hill that she had stood upon when she joined the confederation against the expansion of the Hyummin. Now, however, that coalition was not needed against Selka, but to halt the advance of the forces of Desolation, to stop the threat of the Ihokhur from reaching their borders and laying waste to what she had built. She awaited for the other chieftains to arrive, her bodyguards on her left and right, now holding spears headed with the metal that Kirron himself had gifted them. Atmav’s head turned to the ocean, recalling the first few attempts she had when it came to swimming under the guidance of her own people. The results were less than pleasing as she had nearly drowned two others in a shallow part of the beach trying to figure out how a breaststroke worked until she realized that she could just stand. It was, perhaps, her most embarrassing day of being alive. The first to arrive was Milos, of the Ubbo Tribe, and with him came Hoshu, noticeably older and more frail, and four bowmen. They came to a stop before her, and Milos nodded, while Hoshu looked to her with barely disguised wariness. Shortly afterward, two more tribes arrived. The Pakele Tribe, and the Meola Tribe. Their stories were well-known. The Pakele had once been located further westward, but when the Grottu began their conquest they had no choice but to flee eastward. The Hyummin may have bested the Grottu in the end, but the Pakele refused to return, for that would mean joining the Hyummin and thus being forced to work alongside their treacherous neighbours. The Meola Tribe had been founded shortly after the Grottu’s conquest, composed of those who had survived the Grottu’s massacres. They had banded together, the suffering they had endured at the Grottu’s hands serving as a shared link between them. They were a stoic, angry lot. They had never forgiven the Grottu’s actions, and had passed that onto their children, and their children’s children. Others began to filter in afterward. The Wihu, the Iwai, the Koala, the Helu, the Kumula, the Ailona, and the Kalapa. The hill had become crowded, the great chieftans of the coalition, their bodyguards, and their advisors gathered in a great circle. As was tradition, Milos, who was appointed Speaker, stepped forward. It was the custom the fledgling Confederacy had adopted early on. In order to prevent meetings from devolving into incoherent arguments and shouting matches, they needed one to direct the discussion. None could speak without the Speaker’s permission, which was given only when the Speaker called on one to speak, and could be requested by raising one’s staff into the air. In order to prevent the Speaker from holding absolute power over the discussion, the Speaker could be re-elected at any time during the meeting: all one had to do was vocally call for a vote of no confidence. If the majority agreed, a new Speaker would be swiftly elected. If they disagreed, the one who called the vote could not call another. “We have been called here today to discuss a new threat. One that comes not from our fellow Selka, but from afar,” Milos declared. Many in the circle nodded. Others seemed astonished, as though this was the first time they were hearing it. “If the stories are true, then giant creatures four times our height and made out of solid rock have come to ravage our lands,” he declared, before turning to the only non-Selka among their number. “Chieftan Atmav,” he said. “Your tribe is the closest to where these rumours come from. Is there any truth to them?” he asked. “Yes, one attacked one of our patrols and slew most of the men. I managed to fight it off, but not without injury. They come from the northwest and chances are that the Hyummin have either been avoided, already have had to fight them, or have made a deal with them,” Atmav said, her head turning to the other Selka to allow the information to absorb before she continued, “Kirron calls them Ihokhurs and it seems that there are many more coming.” She stepped forward as she stretched out her wings of the night sky to their fullest extent as she spoke with power, “We must rally and crush these being before any more reach our lands and threaten our people. Kirron demands it for he has given us the tools to wage war against these beasts!” A number of chieftans nodded at her words, and one even cheered. Others seemed hesitant. One, the female leader of the Meola Tribe, raised her staff high into the air with a defiant expression. “Chieftan Lihuppa,” Milos said slowly. “What do you have to say to this?” “Doesn’t any of this sound familiar to you?” She asked, eyes sweeping across the circle. “Hoshaf of the Grottu Tribe made the exact same claim! How can we be certain she is telling the truth?” The approving nods stopped, as the chieftans began to exchange uncertain glances. “How [i]can[/i] we be certain, Chieftan Atmav?” Milos asked. “What reason would I have to lie? Why would I bother summoning this council if I were not certain of the threat? I fought one of them and it stuck me but once and shattered my ribs and caused me to begin coughing up my own blood, not before it threw a boulder at me. It was only by Kirron’s kindness that I was healed,” she growled, a hand subconsciously going to where she had been struck by the beast. “What reason would I have to speak with Kirron? Why would I set aside my grudges with Yimbo, if it were not to defend what has been built?” Atmav questioned, her eyeless gaze turning to Lihuppa. Lihuppa seemed taken aback, more by her gaze and the force of her words than the words themselves. The Pakele Tribe Chieftan seized the opportunity to raise his own staff into the air. “Chieftan… Carlo,” Milos said, taking a moment to remember the chieftan’s unusual name. “You may speak.” “These tools that you speak of,” Carlo said, studying her bodyguards. “You will share them with all of us? Equally?” “Kirron gave my people the metal and even then there are too little to supply all of you. My idea is that my warband will lead the fight against the Ihokur while the rest of you aid against any other forces they have at their disposal. After all, they descend from the Hooflands far north, they may have other monsters following,” Atmav said, her wings folding back, “This metal is only useful against stone, it is no different from your spears if you were to attack another.” Carlos squinted, clearly unsatisfied with her answer. He was about to speak, but Lihuppa cut in. “How can we be certain you truly spoke to Kirron?” she asked. “Even if you believe it’s him, how do we know some other god didn’t trick you?” “Chieftan Lihuppa,” Milos rebuked in a sharp tone. “Remember the rules.” He then looked back to Atmav. “But it is a valid question, Chieftan Atmav.” “Yimbo was with him. Besides, in my experience, gods do not generally lie about who they are. Even Vakk does not lie about who he is,” Atmav stated, forgetting that the Selka knew not who the Lord of Speech was. She looked towards the sky before she continued, “None of them have lied like that thus far.” That gave everyone pause, for they had never known gods to lie either. But mortals did. And the question still remained, even if most were polite enough not to ask: was [i]Atmav[/i] telling the truth? The Chieftan of the Kalapa Tribe, a young and vigorous woman, suddenly rose her staff into the air, and at Milos’s nod, stepped forward. “Is she telling the truth? Maybe, maybe not,” the woman began. “But not too long ago, the sky fell. And now, a horde of rock monsters is coming our way. I don’t see anyone else offering a plan!” she challenged. “Kirron. Kalmar. Ashalla. Three gods watch over us. Do you think all three of them would desert us in a time like this? I don’t.” A number of heads nodded. Some were grudging, while others carried smiles. Atmav might be lying, but she was the first and so far the only one to present a plan, as well as the only one who had any experience with what they were about to face. They had to trust her, and they had to trust that their gods had not forsaken them. Yet some were not convinced. An old Selka by the name of Kahiko, who was even older than Hoshu, was the next to request permission to speak. His guards had needed to carry him up the hill, and even now his staff shook visibly as he raised it into the air, but despite his frail state there was a certain strength in his eye. Milos did not hesitate to grant him permission. Yet Kahiko’s words were not for the circle. He closed his eyes, cast his gaze downward, and spoke in a low voice just barely loud enough for the rest to hear. “Father Kirron…” he prayed. “If this Atmav speaks true… if her intentions are true… please, give us a sign.” A few moments passed in silence, the chieftains looking around for anything that may prove to be a sign of any note. Yet, there was nothing other than the gentle sea breeze. Gradually, the chieftains began to shift their gazes to the only non-selka present many now showing a face of skepticism at a now frowning Atmav. Her eyeless gaze looked all around before murmurs began to rise and before Milos could silence them, shouting developed and argument took hold over the council over this unresolved issue. Atmav could feel her own anger growing, constantly having been seen with skepticism and walls of conflict despite being honest and as diplomatic as she could possibly be. She looked to Milos a clear look of displeasure upon her face, whether it be by his lack of control or the doubt that she seemed to face. Silently, she raised her greatsword so that she may get permission to speak her peace despite the raging arguments that consumed the council. Milos shouted for quiet, and when the noise died down he nodded wearily. “I know that you all do not trust me for I am not a Selka,” Atmav spoke, her voice clear in holding back an anger that yearned to unleash itself, “But I will not stand idly by and allow this council to do nothing when a threat greater than the Hyummin marches on the horizon!” Her hands moved to stab the orvium blade into the hillside as she stepped forward her emotion overtaking her face as she bared her fangs at each and every one of the chieftains. “If all of you are too cowardly and too blind to march to war when our very nations depend upon it, why was this coalition founded? Why would I bother joining something which promises a mutual protection?! Why?!” She looked towards Chieftan Lihuppa, “The Grottu sought expansion and domination! All of these years I have been content with what I have held! If I had wanted to I could have marched against the Hyummin myself and ended them! If I wanted to, I could have slaughtered every Selka I had come across! Yet I have [b]not![/b]” Her rant stopped just enough for her to breath, to find a calm in anger that had surfaced. “Despite the skepticism, despite the mistrust, I have been patient! I have asked for nothing other than protection upon joining this coalition, and now, all I want is trust so that we may stop those who wish to end us!” When her rant was over, she took a deep breath before returning to where her bodyguards stood, both of them having an expression of displeasure equal to their queen. The accusations of cowardice, in tandem with what would be perceived as threats, only resulted in even more shouting - the majority of which was now directed at her. What support she had been heavily withered by her own outburst. Once more Milos shouted, but his voice alone was not enough, so he pulled a conch from his belt and blew it. The high pitched noise cut through the bickering and brought all to attention. “We all agree there is a threat, we all agree it needs to be dealt with, and we have no intention of leaving one of our members without protection,” Milos said, directing a sharp, angry look at Atmav. “That is not where our disagreement lies.” Chieftan Carlo brought his staff up once again. When given permission to speak, he did so. “Milos speaks the truth. I have no intention of waiting for this threat to come to us, and it won’t go away on its own. We must fight. But how? We need a plan, and we need a leader. Atmav has put herself forward, but why should it be her? I say we vote!” “Then let us vote!” Atmav said, “But I am the one who knows how to fight these things and out of everyone here, I have the most military experience.” She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg. A number of Selka blinked at that, having no idea what a ‘military’ actually was. Milos nodded. “We will follow the rules we agreed on so long ago. With two nominations from fellow chieftans, a chieftan may put themself forward. Once the nominations are done, each one will make their case. Then, we vote. Whoever has the most votes will be named war leader. Is that clear?” Every chieftan nodded. “Good,” Milos said, seriously. “Let the nominations begin.” Lihuppa was the first to raise her staff. “I nominate Carlo,” she said, to which Carlo nodded approvingly. “I nominate Atmav,” called out the Chieftan of the Kalapa Tribe, her own staff raised. “I nominate Milos,” declared the old and weary voice of Kahiko. “I nominate you,” another voice declared, but Kahiko tiredly shook his head. “I’m too old,” the old man said. “I nominate Milos. He reformed the old Pact. It should be him.” “I nominate Carlo. He was the one who called this vote. Let him say his piece!” Then they fell into a tense silence. The nominations had finished, and it seemed as if there were only two candidates. Milos opened his mouth to speak, but then a final voice interjected. “I nominate Atmav,” declared the recently made Chieftan of the Iwai Tribe. A shrewd man, by the name of Kahalu. “She was the one who told us of this threat, wasn’t she?” For the first time at the council, a smile formed across Atmav’s face at being nominated, she nodded approvingly at the chieftains of the Iwai Tribe and Kalapa Tribe. “Any other nominations?” Milos asked. None motioned to speak. “Good. Now… it was agreed that the Speaker should oversee the vote. But if I am one of the options, it would be wrong for me to fulfill that role. Kahiko, if you accept it, I will turn that job over to you for now.” “Very well,” Kahiko sighed. “Who will go first?” “I will!” Carlo declared without hesitation. “If you vote for me, I will see that these new weapons are shared equally with each tribe. Then, I will take the fight to these invaders. We will fight them on the beaches! We will fight them in the sea! We will fight them in the forest!” His guards beat their chests triumphantly as he spoke. “We will not stop until every last enemy is destroyed!” The two chieftans who voted for him shouted their approval, as did one other, and a number of guards began to cheer, but for the most part reaction was lukewarm. He had spoken well, and with passion, but had given little indication of an actual plan. “Who will speak next?” Kahiko asked, once the reaction had died down. “I shall,” Atmav stated, looking over to Carlo for a brief moment before focusing on the chieftain as a whole. “If I am voted to lead this, the first that I must do is train each warrior the proper path of war. Discipline, formation, strength! This is the backbone for an effective fighting force, for if we charge blindly at the Ihokhur, they will slaughter us and they will route those who live. As for my plan to fight against them is to fight them upon what open ground we can find, to limit them from ripping trees out of the ground and using them against us.” She paused for a moment to make sure the others were following along. “We will go on the offensive where we can and take them by surprise. From there we can crush them swiftly and decisively and those who flee will be hunted so they may not pose any threat to us!” Her guards silently beat the end of their spears into the ground while looking forward, unmoving with only the muffled sound of wood forcing the dirt into the ground. Although the reaction to her plan was less vocal, more seemed to be in favour of it than Carlo’s. Those who nominated her nodded their approval, along with a few others, and even their guards had listened attentively to her every word. “Milos,” Kahiko said, turning to the third and final choice. “What do you have to say?” For several long seconds, Milos was quiet, stroking his whiskers in thought. Some began to whisper that he was stumped. That perhaps, for once, the great hunter was caught without a plan. Then, he spoke. “You say that fighting them on open ground will prevent them from using the trees against us,” he said to Atmav. “I disagree. If they are as big and as strong as we have heard, what stops them from pulling trees out of forests and carrying them onto open ground?” He shook his head disapprovingly. “No, I don’t think we can meet them on open ground. At least in the forests, other trees might get in their way. We will be able to hide or outrun them. So we will fight them there. And if we lose, we will escape into the sea, regroup down the coast, and try a new plan, until we succeed.” “I will also pray to Arryn for aid. He has always been a friend to my tribe, and many of you have met him as well. I don’t see why he would abandon us now,” Milos declared. His speech received a similar reaction to Atmav’s, though it seemed slightly more were in favour. Perhaps they genuinely believed Milos’s plan was better, or maybe it was simply due to his greater popularity. “If there is nothing else, we will begin the voting,” Kahiko declared. He gestured to Lihuppa, the Selka standing to his left. “Begin.” “Carlo.” She said. “Milos,” said the Chieftan to her left, and on it went. “Carlo.” “Atmav.” “Milos.” “Atmav.” “Milos.” “Atmav.” A tie, between Atmav and Milos. And the nominees were not allowed to vote… Kahiko let out another tired sigh. “As Acting-Speaker, it falls to me to break the tie. I choose… Milos.” Atmav’s head snapped towards the old man, nonexistent eyes blinking in shock and disbelief that someone vastly her younger and more inexperienced had been chosen over her. Even the guards behind her blinked in surprise as they saw their queen as the only clear choice. Her eyeless gaze went to Milos and grit her teeth, but not acting on her immediate anger. There were many things that she felt like doing, screaming, fighting, killing, but she knew better and she knew the puppet’s work of molding her into a proper queen would be dismantled. “I thank you for your support,” Milos said with a nod, and then spoke up in his usual authoritative voice. “Go back to your homes,” he commanded. “Gather as many able-bodied fighters and as much food as you can spare. We will gather at the Aspasia Tribe’s village.” He looked toward the west, a steely gaze in his eye. “And then, we prepare for war.” [hr] As she walked further and further away from the hill, Atmav still found herself in confusion and shock over Milos being chosen over her. She was certain that he knew not how to command a proper army, how to keep the men from routing, how to keep an effective formation other than a mere guerilla mob. Though, she understood that the politics at play and that, when compared to Milos, she was vastly unpopular and she knew that those who had doubted her did not see her in a position of power. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her blade, remembering why she had despised getting involved in the politics of her old world and it seemed that being a leader was forever marked with politics. She knew that Milos perhaps had a point in fighting in the forest, after all it would limit their movement a good deal, but they could still tip trees upon their forces and if they ever broke their weapon, the Ihokhur would need not to look far for another. “Milos knows not what he is doing,” she growled. “He certainly does not, my queen,” Brottnee commented keeping his spear close to him, “After all, Kirron visited us and not them. We were chosen to fight and to lead.” “Unfortunately, he is liked more by the other chieftains,” she said, “We will find a way to get control in time.” “Queen Atmav?” A familiar voice spoke up from behind. That was odd. No one, other than her own bodyguards, had ever called her by that name. Not here. It had always been ‘Chieftain’ Atmav: Milos had insisted on that during their first meeting, and until now it had not changed. Atmav turned to see who had spoken to her, her guards turning with confusion on their faces over another calling their leader by her proper title. It was Kahalu, Chieftan of the Iwai Tribe, and of all the tribes in the alliance, his was the closest to her borders. He had risen to his position less than a year ago, and had spent much of the years before that in travel. On either side of him were two guards. “Do you have a moment to talk? In private?” He asked, his gaze shifting to her own men. Atmav nodded, motioning for her guard to continue on the path back to their home as she stepped toward Kahalu. Kahalu gestured for his guards to do the same. She kept her hand positioned on her hilt before she asked, “What do you wish to talk about, Chieftain Kahalu.” Her voice was formal as she looked down upon the male, her form still looking over him as she did over most of the other Selka. Though she did note that he was tall even by their standards. “You spoke well at the meeting,” Kahalu said with a nod. “You seem very experienced on these matters.” “That much is true. It is too bad popularity is more of a motivator over martial experience,” Atmav stated, a frown moving across her face as she spoke. “I might know a way to fix that,” Kahalu said. “But first, can I ask where you earned this experience? I travelled far. From what I know, these rock creatures have never been seen before, and there has never been a war of the same size as what happened to the Grottu and the Hyummin. You did not always live on this land, did you?” “No, I come from beyond this realm. The same as the gods, but I was not so lucky to be bestowed with such divine power,” Atmav’s head turned to the sky, “I have fought in many wars, I have bested many, and I have acted as a general in many campaigns.” After a moment of recollection, she looked back down to Kahalu before cocking her head to the side, knowing that he did not wish to hear of vague recollections of a time long since passed. “Why do you ask?” She questioned. “Everything I’ve heard about Milos suggests he’s a good leader, but we never faced a threat like this before,” Kahalu explained. “You seemed more sure of yourself, and your words made more sense. I’m wondering if they made the wrong choice.” “I am certain that they did, but if that is the choice the confederacy wishes to make, then who am I to oppose them? Other than the one with the tools to actually kill them, that is,” Atmav said, lifting her sword towards a tree, “According to Kirron, some of their hide is made out of the same that makes this blade.” The blade emitted a red stream that lit the tree of fire, making Kahalu one of the only Selka outside of the Aspasia to see its magical capabilities. “It certainly does not give us great odds,” she said. “No, it doesn’t,” Kahalu shook his head. “But… there is still hope. Milos may be the War Leader, but we are still the first leaders in our people’s eyes. He has to listen to us, if he wants us to stay in this alliance. Because if we leave, he will have no power. You will still have your say.” Atmav nodded in agreement, “Yes, this is true. Yet, what if those who support him? Even if we leave he will have the backing of enough chieftains anyways.” “There are others who supported you,” Kahalu pointed out, “and more may come around as well. Besides, I’m not saying that we should leave, just that he has to listen to us, and his power can be questioned.” Atmav nodded her head once more, “I see.” She allowed a moment to pass to think over the words. “Then it shall be done,” she smiled, “I will not allow him to lead us into slaughter, you have my word.” Kahalu smiled back. “Good. And don’t take this setback too hard. There will be other meetings, other votes, maybe even other wars - if Carlo and Lihuppa are to be believed, at least.” Atmav turned away from Kahalu before speaking once more, “War with the Hyummin is inevitable, it is only a matter of when.” After she took one step away from Kahalu, her head turned to the side, “Perhaps I can teach you how to form a true military one of these days, you seem… competent enough to lead one.” “Is there anything else you wished to speak of?” She asked. “There is,” Kahalu nodded. “You mentioned your… popularity. I have some advice that might help with that.” Kahalu has earned Atmav’s attention once more as her body turned back to him. “And what advice would that be?” “The reason the other chieftains do not trust you is because they do not see you as one of them,” Kahulu told her, his smile fading. “I don’t have an issue with that, but they do. Have you considered adopting some of our… customs?” “Your customs?” Atmav asked, looking up to try and think of any customs that she could recall. Then it dawned upon her, in all her time ruling as Queen over the Selka, she had never once given a thought to what customs they might have had. By now, she had imposed her own rule over them and displaced any that they might have had. “I never thought of Selka customs before,” she admitted. That seemed to genuinely take him by surprise. “But… you’ve been ruling your tribe since most I know were born,” he said, then took a moment to compose himself. “Well, that might be why they don’t trust you. Maybe I can be of more help, then. In my travels, I noticed that every tribe has different customs, but there are always some similarities. Maybe I could teach you?” “That would be much appreciated,” Atmav nodded, a slight smile coming to her face. “Good, I can tell you about it on the walk back,” Kahalu nodded approvingly. “One more question… are you married?” The question made Atmav visibly recoil from the suddenness of the question, if she had eyes they would have widened greatly. For a moment she stood there in stunned silence before mustering up the mind to speak, “Ugh- n-no.” Another moment of silence before she spoke again, “And why do you ask?” “I mentioned learning some of our customs? Taking a Selka as a husband might improve your reputation. There are other benefits, too. Some chieftains will marry an important their own tribe, in order to make the tribe more loyal. Others may marry into the families of chieftains from other tribes, in order to form closer bonds… alliances, and partnerships. Or so I’ve seen, at least. I’ve yet to get married myself.” Atmav grew silent once more before she would speak, “The problem is that I will only ever marry someone who is my equal in combat. Someone that exemplifies strength, martial prowess, and endurance. I could very much marry off a member of the tribe, but, I don’t believe that is right. Erm- I- ugh,” words failed her for a moment, before she looked away. A thoughtful expression crossed Kahalu’s face. “My mother once told me to marry someone who was skilled in something I was not. Then, I would never have any weaknesses. I may not be as good at combat as you, and although I’m still a good fighter, wouldn’t my knowledge, my intellect, my support, and my tribe all be more useful?” “Y-you are rather persistent ,” Atmav said, still not looking at Kahalu before letting out a sigh followed by a chuckle. She shook her head before finally looking Kahalu, “You make a compelling case, Kahalu. Very well, then.” Kahalu’s eyebrows rose, and then he gave her a smile a great deal wider than any he had given thus far. “I’m happy to hear it. In all my travels, I have never met someone as strong or as beautiful as you.” Atmav shook her head and laughed once more, turning away from Kahalu as she did not know what to do or even say in response to him. “You are a crafty one, Kahalu. Come now, we are wasting time,” she said as she began to step away. “Yes, our guards might be worried,” he said, falling into step beside her. [hider=Summarians] The Chieftains of a coalition are summoned, Atmav being the first to arrive because she is on military time and everyone else is on normal people time. Atmav informs them of the coming threat and is met by some skepticism and she attempts to prove her case and trying to get them to trust her. Eventually a man calls for Kirron to give them a sign that she is telling the truth and when nothing happen argument begins to take control, though Milos tries to retain control. This makes Atmav angry who calls them cowards for not trusting her and not wanting to march for war, ruining the support she already had. She’s a warrior, not a diplomat if that much was clear. Eventually, it is settled and a vote for a war leader is called. Milos wins because he is “more popular than Atmav” but we all know it was the Ihokhur hackers in rigging the election. This angers Atmav, but she does nothing. After that mess, she has some time to be sour before Kahalu catches up to her and actually RESPECTS HER TITLE AS QUEEN HOLY FUCKLE. He talks with her saying that Milos has to listen to them or else he loses support which makes sense to Atmav. And he gives her advice on how to be more popular… by essentially proposing to marry her, THE CHAD. This takes her by surprise and she declines at first before Kahalu sways her to marry through a bit of persistence and the whole political gain thing, which is really the only reason she agrees. What? Love does not exist in nobility! There is only politics! Anyways, Mazel tov 19 Prestige + 4 = 23 Presige [/hider]