Aaah! Sorry for the long wait, I've been swamped with school and such. Let me know if you like or dislike the new point of view. If it's unsuccessful I'll take it out of future chapters. Here ya go!
These characters are not mine, they are Hilari Bell's.
The Knight:
Tobin watched Makenna stomp her way out of the centaur generals tent into the chilled evening. Laughter behind him continuing just as it had when he entered, he questioned the seriousness of the centaur in their quest for revenge. However, while his thoughts barraged him, his real concern lay in Makenna's temper. She turned abruptly, braid flinging off her shoulder like a whip. "I don't think I'll ever understand what the point of that was," she sighed, walking impatiently while Tobin struggled to keep up.
"I don't know either. I'm sure when Zvonimir is here he can sort out this misconception." Tobin let his eyes wander as they rushed along the meadow floor to their tents. Goblins waved casually as they passed, a few smiling in amusement as they saw Makenna in her flustered irritation. Thinking to himself, Tobin wondered where the ambassador had gone missing to, for he usually seemed more than eager to help Makenna adjust to the centaur customs. He was respectful however, never sparking too much conversation around Makenna that didn't concern the sorcerers or the centaur's plans, but the more Tobin thought about it, the more he began to wonder why he didn't speak more. He had spent nearly a week with Makenna in sorting out the first terms of their alliance, added onto the past week they spent in travel; with all that, it would be easy to understand why Makenna and him were friends. Only, they didn't seem as anything but acquaintances.
Now watching the back of Makenna's head, falling behind, Tobin laughed. "I was wondering," Tobin began aloud, waiting for Makenna to slow her pace while he caught up. She turned to him, her brown eyes catching the fleeting light of the crescent moon like drops of sap. "Hmm?" He frowned, unsure of how he would word what he thought. "Well, where has the ambassador gone to? It seems when we needed him most, he just up and left," Tobin produced finally, hoping to procure answers from Makenna without revealing his real curiosity. The look she gave him was almost as cold as the wind that began to blow at their backs.
"What do you mean?" she questioned, voice not irritated, but short. Tobin shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm just saying it seems he doesn't make being an ambassador his first priority." Makenna inspected him curiously before turning her gaze ahead at their tents. Facing him calmly, she sighed. "I'm sure he has a good reason for not staying with us," she gave him finally, although her words did not spell out her confidence in the centaur. While he felt his shoulder sag as his mood deflated, he wished to mend the trouble he'd caused. "I didn't mean it like that, truly I just wondered where he was," Tobin sputtered. Makenna nodded, turning towards her tent. "You're not going to eat?" Tobin asked her. "No, I think it's best I get a decent sleep."
The Hedgewitch:
The early morning in the cleared meadow was marginally warmer than the frosty night prior. As Makenna stretched outside her tent, she inhaled deeply and expelled her heavy mood. To her side Mourry sat outside his tent, widdling away at a stick. Glancing up, he smiled crookedly. "Tough day ahead if I'm not mistaken," The goblin Tracker started, tone serious. "Aye, very tough day. Do you know where Nevnil, and Rosto are? I have to talk to them about recruiting some of their Stoners and Flamers. I need them for this mission as you know," Makenna gazed around, scanning each goblin head near her tent carefully. Mourry stood up, hopping off his bundle and tossing his stick aside. "Here, I'll show ye, they shouldn't be far."
The short goblin weaved through the chaotic tent rows, now bustling with busy goblins going about their chores for the day of no travel. However, the chores were not the only things on many of their minds. The news that Makenna was planning an attack was inescapable from eavesdropping goblins ears; sometimes she wondered if many of the little devils had a gift with their keen sense of hearing and wouldn't admit it. As she paraded towards Rosto and Nevnil's camp she couldn't help but observe that the gazes goblins sent her were either of complete worry, or complete obliviousness. Shrugging the matter off she contemplated how she would persuade the Flamers and Stoners to aid her.
"Here ye go Gen'ral. Morn, Nevnil, Rosto," the Tracker nodded his head towards the sitting goblins, whose slim hands reached towards a gorgeously roaring fire in their camp. "Mourry," they offered, eying Makenna quickly before gazing into the fire once more. "Gen'ral," Nevnil said finally. Makenna couldn't help but smile at their behavior. Both goblins were not from her home village; they arrived at the portal to Otherworld as refugees from the south. While she was acquainted with many goblins, it was nearly impossible for her to meet all of them formally.
She grasped Mourry's shoulder gently, and handed him a button from her shirt. "Nay, that's not needed, I offered to show ye out of my choice." Closing her hand, the Tracker smiled in his crooked way, and bowed to the goblins. "I'll see you later Gen'ral." As he left them alone, Makenna searched the goblins expression closely.
"I know I haven't formally introduced myself to you, but forgive me, I've a lot on my mind." Sitting onto the cold ground so she was at a the goblins sight level she warmed herself by the fire. "I know you're both skilled in fire and stone work; for you've helped many of the makers in the crafting of our weapons and buildings. I'd like to ask a favor of you today." As she began, they faced her calmly, expressions unchanged; they weren't cold hearted, just cautious. They knew what deception humans were capable of, and obviously did not trust their leader completely just yet. "What's in it for us?" Nevnil asked, his dark brown eyes open attentively. Rosto nodded agreeing. Holding their gaze, Makenna took out a few items from her pockets. She'd known at some point she'd need to make a trade with more than buttons or pine cones, so she'd saved up items from her travel in Otherworld gradually. In the morning light the green and red gems embedded in the rock she held seemed duller than when she had first scavenged them. During the first year of travel the goblins had settled in many places, one place in particular was over a fruitful natural mine of precious stones and gems south of the city. Tobin had been exploring with a group of stoner's who felt inclined to search the unique rock formations around the glen they set camp in. After discovering the mine, Makenna ordered goblins to pick at a lump some of them to save for the city's treasury; for trades like these.
"Master Erebus and some Stoners claim they are precious gems. I'd be willing to offer you both a some this size in exchange for you and your trainees cooperation." She handed them to rock, Nevnil could hardly hide his eagerness in examining the gems. The stoner flickered them into the fire light, aiming to see the clarity of the jewels. He looked up, astonished and bowed his head to her. "Aye, I'd be willing to accept this in exchange. Though I'm certain I've the better end of he bargain." Nevnil handed her the rock back, mean while Rosto shook his head. "I don't have any use for that." he admitted stubbornly. His gaze lingered on the other items hidden by Makenna's hand. She took one from her lap, holding it out. The rectangular box seemed uninteresting at first. "This is contraption Mourry discovered while tracking some caribou in the woodlands to the northeast of home." She explained as she flicked off a hinged cap. It clicked, revealing a wick of some sort sticking out. Rosto's interest flashed across his expression rapidly before dissipating. "What is it?" He wondered aloud. Makenna held the bronze container towards the bonfire. Soon, the small wick lit up, just smaller than a night candle, but large enough to provide a dim light. Rosto watched her movement wide eyed. "It's some sort of mini-torch. Mourry guessed it was left by humans from past, but it seems to be more sophisticated than the crude torches used long ago. This is what I'd offer you, Rosto. While a Flamer such as yourself has no real need, you'd always have a light on hand," She handed to him while he investigated the compartment, shaking it near his ear listening to the oil inside gurgle, and tracing a finger along it's engraved pattered edges. Finally sitting back, he grumbled. "You're a mighty decent temptress, Gen'ral." his voice was filled with annoyance.
Alarmed at his anger, she felt a sharp exasperation enter her chest. "I mean no insult, Rosto-"- "But I'll take it." he blinked, eyes twinkling ever so slightly. Makenna sighed, air visibly puffing out from her mouth. The cold was deepening even while the sun was up. "Thank you, both of you. Now here's what I ask..." Explaining her plan, the goblins listened intently, bundling up by the fireside closely.
The Ambassador:
Ambassador Zvonimir sat calmly by his Commader Marz side, listening to Makenna explain her plans more in depth to the centaur. Her regal appearance, even prominent in rugged leather and fur clothes, was hard to ignore; he sometimes wondered if why she wasn't a noblewoman in the Old Realm, for she carried herself collectedly. As she finished explaining how she'd recruited her Flamers and Stoners, Zvonimir translated rapidly, noticing Marz expression was hesitant, but pleased with her progress.
"Selz rann felz taner'a yiet'mn calcar. Je'de, desde gaul. Es felz di, lei sorcerers en gaultan." Marz bowed to her as he sat. Outside the late morning wind blew, a cold storm nearing their settlement. "He says you have a good plan, but to take caution. As you said, the sorcerers are dangerous." With that, Makenna's expression transformed from a serious tautness to a relaxed relief. "Thank you. Agrigar Marz" she spoke, smiling. Marz huffed in faux-irritation. "Too fast learner." he grumbled. Standing and bowing her leave, Makenna met both of the centaur with her deep honey brown eyes, "I will inform you when I'm prepared to take my leave." Leaving Zvonimir to translate, she exited the tent.
(In Centaur) "I'm very surprised indeed" Marz began, standing and walking calmly to the front of his small cherry wood desk. The sounds of his hooves were muffled on the ground rug situated to keep the cold out. "She seems so young, yet so acquainted with the necessities of war. Do you have any idea how long she's been at it?" Marz folded his arms, gazing outside through the small gap in the tent flap doorway. It had started to flurry slightly. "Her human companion says he's around twenty years in Old Realm time. Here that's hardly the lifespan of a fly." Zvonimir tightened his bear skin cloak as Marz grasped the tent flaps and pulled them closed completely. "She must be around that age. A girl that young should have no inkling of war. It seems the Old Realm is truly barbaric; if my daughter knew anything of war I'd be furious." Grunting, Marz eyed Zvonimir closely, his emerald eyes disarming, sensing Zvonimir become tense. "You know, you never did fully explain what you observed in their city during your stay," the commander gestured for them to sit on the ground to chat, Zvonimir sighed internally. "Well, their city is not as developed as ours, but then again they've only just arrived in Itola." "Go on, ambassador,"
"I followed her around on her daily affairs while drafting the alliance treaty for about a week. That was after Yen the messenger had already presented them with the peace branch and returned with me." He continued. Marz looked unsatisfied still, and so the ambassador continued on. "As for her leadership; she's very capable. She has close ties with her citizens, many admire her even though she is human. From what I gathered she is a skilled magic user, but rarely uses her talents beyond the direst of situations. She led them even in the Old Realm, though only a few hundred of the current goblins knew her from when the humans of her world threatened to destroy their existence. Most were refugees seeking her aid just as she opened a portal to here. As for the knight, he's not very friendly with me. I think he may love her, though I am not certain." Zvonimir felt his temperature rising as he admit facts he hadn't revealed to anyone but himself. "Enough about that. What about her personally?" Marz seemed bored by his generic answers, instead wanting to understand his ally and her culture more closely.
"She's a decent fighter, I've seen her battling more than one goblin at a time in duels. A good strategist-"- "Zvonimir, you're boring me." The commander grumbled. "Her, what about her life, her interests? I have to know about this, especially if we want to make our alliance stronger." Struggling to maintain his composure, Zvonimir stood. "Makenna is kind and gentle; though she tries to hide it by acting tough. She likes to read, learn, explore this land, whistle, and plant. Commander, I know these things, but I still lack knowledge of her past. It seems she is deeply troubled by something, for when I asked about it her gaze became distant and mournful." He blushed, feeling much younger than his years currently; and apparently his commander observed this changed in atmosphere.
"Much better. But ambassador, I warn you," He paused, emphasizing the seriousness of his statement. "Do not develop your relations beyond what is proper for a missionary such as yourself, and the leader of another clan. I'm sure you understand the importance of your profession. Thank you, that will be all for now." Dismissing him, Marz stood, and turned his back towards his underling. Zvonimir left defeated and ashamed; he wished Marz had never asked him about her.
By late afternoon a decent layer of snow coated the meadow. The trees, most still covered with leaves in shades of reds and yellows, weighed down, some starting to coat with ice as the temperature rose and fell. Zvonimir galloped through his fellow centaur's camp, chuckling at friends as they urged him to join them in their early sup in their vast dining tents. He declined most, wanting to clear his head of the heavy fatigue that plagued him since his conversation with Marz. The sky was a dirty white, still fairly light as the sun's rays shined from the horizon behind the foliage. From the distance in front of him, Zvonimir watched Tobin near. He came jogging steadily from the goblin camp area near the centaur's. His expression was solemn.
"Hello Ambassador," he greeted, breathing tiredly as he halted. Zvonimir bowed in greeting. As the man cast a glance over his shoulder towards where he'd come from, he spoke. "I've scouted the surrounding forest. It seems there are more sorcerers than expected. With them is an old man who I saw from my last confrontation with the fiends; he may be their leader. Mourry says the group has been traveling around the meadow for some time, almost as if they were thinking of settling here." As he spoke, the hairs on Zvonimir's arm rose; he sensed danger would soon fall upon them. "Will that be problematic for Makenna?" he asked alarmed. Tobin shook his head without a word, his eyes boring into Zvonimir as he spoke the General's name aloud. "No. She sent me to inform you that she will be moving out soon. It may take her longer, but she promises by the morn you'll have no problem forming an ambush once she's incapacitated the sorcerers powers."
Zvonimir tilted his head trying to remember when she mentioned the ambush; had he been to absorbed in his translation to comprehend what she actually said at Marz' briefing? The human watched the tree line worriedly while the ambassador pondered. "She told Marz that her Flamers and Stoners would injure the sorcerers to a point where their physical fatigue would impair their powers. Her goblins alone could not defeat them; at least not this many." Tobin specified.
"Yes, that should be fine. I shall inform my commander immediately." Zvonimir spouted, turning and galloping back to his leaders tent before the man could catch his attention. To the distant east, Zvonimir watched a group of armored goblins march stealthily into the meadows edge. Gazing back was the tall feminine figure he knew was Makenna. Soon after she finished directing the goblins, she disappeared into the darkness of the woods without a trace.