Zomg...I wish to apologize for the ver, ver long wait on this update. If you stayed with me, I'd like to thank you! Now, I've been out of the swing of things in this story for a while, so as usual, if you don't like the direction, I will consider your opinion. In addition, because it has been so long, my writing style has changed, forgive me if it's not improved xD Enjoy :)

(The credit for this story and its characters goes to Hilari Bell, not me.)

The Ambassador:

Ambassador Zvonimir paced the marbled halls of his chambers in the centaur palace. His hooves, cloaked by sheath like wrappings of copper, rang subdued by cloth draperies in the tall entry hall. This morning he had ridden swiftly to the centaur capital of Ferkai unburdened by gear, arriving a handful of hours after leaving Commander Marz's warriors to finish off the sorcerers. His mission was to notify the centaur king of their success, and prepare the city for the arrival of the Aggrippian clan's standing army and Makenna's goblin army. King Erol was pleased with his news, and immediately sent messages to members of the Clan Council concerning the victory. To Zvonimir's knowledge, all of the council members should have arrived in the city by now. The fact that only four of the five clan leaders other than his own arrived was a sign of turbulence; and the fact that Makenna and Marz had failed to ride ahead of their troops as planned presented an even greater issue. It was uncommon for Commander Marz to fall off schedule, especially in a time when enemies were on the prowl. Marz had never failed to follow through with his word as officer of the Aggrippian standing army. Zvonimir's primary concern was that something more important had reared it ugly head.
Imaginings of dread wandered tortuously into his head. Had the sorcerers been revitalized and fought back? Or was it possible more had come to fight the centaur? Had something happened to Marz or Makenna? That possibility worried him the most.

Abruptly hooves sounded at the hall entry door. The firm few knocks told him it was a messenger; he rushed to the door with as much composure as he could manage, opening it wide. "Ambassador Zvonimir?" asked the young centaur. He could only have been a few decades old. "I am. What news have you brought me?" he asked pulling back his vest to reveal his clan tabard. The messenger stood straight, his head high as he recited the message. "His Lordship wishes to speak with you in the war council chamber with the other clan leaders. Unfurled standards of the Aggrippians have been seen on the distant horizon, you have not but half an hour before they reach here."

Guards guided Zvonimir down the richly colored hall, fill with portraits of nobles, artifacts of ancient times, and battles standards draping across the royal coat of arms. It wasn't his home, but a welcome second home. His job dealt primarily with negotiations with the kings affairs on behalf of the Aggrippian clan when their leader was incapacitated by problems at home, yet occasionally he was brought into the Kings confidence as a neutral party in his council. Many of the other clan ambassadors took on the same role.

The end of the hallway led into a staircase which spiraled down into the lower floors of the palace. Once on the bottom floor the guards brought him to a heavily enforced door, gilded with bars of steel and wood, as well as gems and the royal crest; Bow and arrow on the left crossed over a feathered quill on the right all placed atop a shield. The guard knocked once, waited, and knocked again. A dull click sounded, and the door's many bolts suddenly retracted from their locked state, allowing someone behind the door to push it ajar.

"You may enter Zvonimir." A offered a familiar voice. Stepping in alone, Zvonimir bowed low to his king and fellow ambassadors. Making his way to one of the three empty seats, he quickly observed the papers and maps laid strategically around the mother of pearl topped war council table. A few less serious faces smiled weakly as his eyes met theirs', but most of the centaur were solemn.

"As you know, your clan's army is to arrive here soon, Zvonimir. It is my hope that both Commander Marz and your newest ally, Human Makenna of the Goblins, proceed along safely among the ranks. However, if that scenario is not a reality, we must take even more more decisive actions and swift executions this evening. In the small span of time we must endure before seeing if our wish is fulfilled by the Higher Beings of Itola, I think it wise for you to expand our knowledge of the newcomers. Tell us, what was your primary motivation for making this alliance without the advice of the Council?" His kings voice was meek, yet the words rang true and straight to his heart. To the council, Erol seemed terse and even disturbed, but to Zvonimir he was clearly disappointed. Shifting with such discomfort that even Marz' unwavering judgments couldn't procure, Zvonimir cleared his throat. "At the time we'd been wandering into the northern lands on early suspicions of the sorcerers. We had many days in which to consider the calculated significance of such an ally, and logically the benefits outweighed any of the hindrances. Makenna and her goblins have a magic unparalleled here, besides the few humans of whom we are aware. To ignore her presence would suggest we lacked diplomacy or a willingness for cooperation; and that is not the centaur way." Ending on a dignified note, he met each gaze of his peers with a ferocity uncommon amidst such modest creatures. However, his king appeared to be satisfied with his answer.

"Very well. It is quite infrequent that your judgment has been unfounded Zvonimir, as many of the council members and myself will admit. With that settled, pray tell, how did this human come to lead a nation of goblins?" Zvonimir, unable to utter a single word in explanation, realized that he had no information on that entire chapter in history. Everything he'd based his relations and decisions on was the present Makenna; her integrity, wit, intellect, and passion. Erol watched him expectantly.

"I know that she aided the goblins in escaping the wrath of some cultural purging in their old realm, but beyond that my knowledge is lacking. I do, however, know that they have goblins specifically skilled and trained in the ways of tome keeping. They are more civilized than one would expect of such a young world." Council members murmured all at once with this offering. The king waited patiently as their sudden discussions died down into silence. "That is both reassuring and unsettling at once, Zvonimir. But no matter. If that is all, we must preparations must be made for their arrival." The broad centaur stood, his golden fur a peachy tone in the dim torchlight. The council stood at once and bowed as the king exited first, others following according to rank while Erol and his heralds led the way to the palace's courtyard.

Sometime later, Zvonimir stood tall in an effort to see beyond the palaces stone wall perimeter. While placed on a terrace which observed the bustling city below, the palace was hardly at the optimal viewing distance from Ferkai's main gates. Numerous ancient carved tree shrines, most converted into living quarters for civilians, towered high clipping the flat expanse of sky which would give a glimpse of the arriving armies. Other more modern stone buildings stood only a handful of levels above the ground, and were very small. In his attempts at moving left and right to peer beyond the palace gate, his fellow ambassadors found a lack of manners. Their gazes shown they were annoyed at his anticipation.

Suddenly, horns sounded the arrival of the army into the barracks, while more refined horns sounded to announce the arrival of the standing armies commanding officer Marz. Even from a distance Zvonimir could tell his clansman was distraught, Zvonimir's stomach turned with anxiety at the sight of Marz dismal expression. Marz approached King Erol while the other ambassadors and clan leaders watched in anticipation, but when the King lowered his voice, some of the impatient centaur cried outraged.

"There is no need for secrecy, Marz." Inserted a particularly old and crotchety centaur ambassador, who was shot down immediately when Marz' short temper flared a warning. "You do not know of what I speak, Ewel, and this is not a formal council or you would be in your proper place of rank; at the end." The Old centaur's gray eyes gazed back scorchingly, yet he knew his rank was not prominent due to his senile tendencies. Marz met the stare of each centaur standing alert and anxious to hear what news he had to bring. The King stepped aside with a fluid hand gesture encouraging Marz to speak aloud.

"On this day currently, we have defeated the temporary threat of the barbaric sorcerers. However, with the help of our goblin allies we've discovered they've only served to be a minor problem in the scheme of things. To contribute to this haze of mysterious events, General Makenna has fallen ill; of what plague... we don't know." Just as he spoke a train of the short goblin creature and a tall human man emerged from beyond the gates. On their rams there weren't even as tall as a young adult centaur, yet they carried themselves with a ferocity that invoked observers with a keen sense of caution. Besides that, their eyes were quite solemn, for with them Tobin guarded the limp and pale looking body of Makenna. Her hair tangled and clothes bloodied, yet her face undeniably beautiful and calm, she seemed to be a foreign sacrifice of battle brought into Ferkai on an errand of the gods.