Date: July 30, 2001 (Aether: August 20, 3908)
Place: Fox's Forge - East Bordertown - Haven, Secret Garden - Bordertown - Haven
Cast: Broadshoulders, Tanith
Emits: Kaitye and Ravenbright (Fox), Sharpeyes (Nox), Skydark (Tanith), Snowhair (Broadshoulders)
Scene: A meeting is called for Eyotojolan tribal elders to discuss Haven -- and the possibility of claiming Bordertown for themselves and the Outcasts...

Fox's Forge - East Bordertown - Haven:
      The Fox's Forge is dimly lit, with the red glow of the ever-burning fire providing most of the illumination. The scent of charcoal hangs heavy here, and the shafts of light which make their way through windows and door reveal countless motes of soot and smoke hanging in the air. By the street-door, display cases sit, carefully kept clean; their contents gleam in the light. Behind the great brick-built forge, a small door sits in the darkest corner; the way to the Smith's personal quarters. A set of bellows sits besides the forge, and an anvil on a block of oak. Hammers, pincers and other tools are neatly racked on the back wall, along with a vise and several shapes of hammer-block. The floor is swept, and the windows of thick, bubbly glass are as clean as can be.

Tanith opens the door of the forge and walks in without a here or there. Her eyes adjust to the light of the forge and she seeks Broadshoulders out...

BroadShoulders is up and about, slowly sweeping the floor, yawning on occasion. The apprentices are nowhere to be seen.

Tanith says, "I do not think you are awake yet, ManySmiles..."

BroadShoulders says "Neither do I, Ivytwine. How have you been?"

Tanith says, "Things rest heavily on my shoulders. The elders need to meet."

BroadShoulders nods. "I agree. I will send for them, Shaman, do you will it." His tone is oddly formal with that last statement, the old traditional formula rolling easily from his lips.

Tanith nods. "I will it. Let it be done." Sometimes formality suits the occasion, and certainly this does. She sighs. "This is a tough one, Broadshoulders..."

BroadShoulders nods. "But it rankles with you as much as with I that the Atlanteans claim our homes as their own property, yes? The Outcasts are not to be trusted, of course, but they have not betrayed us yet."

Tanith says, "The Atlanteans, the Citadel... who else? And no, I do not think most of the Outcasts should be trusted... and why should they be? This is why their tunnels are their tunnels and ours are ours." She shakes her head. "It is a miserable comparison."

BroadShoulders nods. "The Empyreans and the Varati have taken their parts of the city. We should do the same, Inkana, if only because the Atlanteans also cannot be trusted -- how long will it take for their mind-readers to learn that we exist, if they keep patrolling here?"

Tanith says, "And why should we be so distrustful of them? If we make a treatise with them, perhaps they will stay out of our way." She grumbles. "Let us call a meeting... discuss this with the others."

BroadShoulders nods. "Aye, let's. Just a moment, Inkana." He heads to the back of the forge, opens the door and looks out, calling someone, relaying instructions. He closes the door again. "They should be in the garden soon, Inkana -- I've sent Swift-foot."

Tanith nods. "Then let us await them there, old friend."

BroadShoulders nods, opening the door once more and holding it for the Shaman. "After you," he smiles gently.

Secret Garden - Bordertown - Haven:
      A small piece of paradise amidst the noise and bustle of Haven, the little garden has been carefully tended over decades, if not centuries, and now it has taken over the central courtyard of the once-Varati building. The original fountain has become a deep-bowled flower with stamens of ever-changing water, nearly to the brim; the pillars, typical of Varati style, are host to ivy, climbing roses and creepers of all sorts. In beds of soil pretty plants mingle with medicinal herbs, and favorite forage for the visiting creatures is present in abundance. The animals the city tribe hold dear come to this place, and they are welcomed. There are small benches and screened-off corners; not many, since the garden is tiny, but a few. Shade is provided by the balconies looking onto the garden, for each overhangs it a small way, but for the most part the sun shines into this secluded place, and the fountain provides cool air and a gentle, persistent noise.

Tanith sits on a bench and waits for the others to arrive. The first is a graisha, SkyDark, slow and slinking. Head of a coyote, tail, and claws, his speech is impaired, but fairly viable. He makes his way and sits at the base of a tree, silently watching the others enter.

Another soon enters slowly, her pace slow and regal, but what does one expect from a Sylvan her age? One of the eldest of the elders, Kaitye WhiteWings makes her way to the area and claims one of the benches as her own, by right of age. Her long white hair is still thick despite her ninety-odd years, and her green eyes bright.

BroadShoulders takes his place on the bench next to Tanith. Through the door to the forge walks an old Sylvan woman, bent and gnarled but still lively. "Snowhair," the smith nods, "Please, join us." The old woman nods, taking a seat on the bench; it shifts beneath her, the stone starting to flow for just a few moments. "I hope you'll put that back when you're done," BroadShoulders smiles.

A second graisha enters, black eyes darting about over a beaked nose. RavenBright still has the quick movements of his spirit-animal and is one of the younger members of the Elders, his hair not yet greyed. Taloned fingers grip at a branch as he watches the others arrive.

SharpEyes sits cross-legged in the shade of an old whining willow. His intense, light-green gaze, peering from a tanned, haggard face studies all those arriving carefully, even though he has seen each one of them many times. In his hands, he holds a thick, gnarled staff (which, some say, looks very much like his own wrinkled form, hardened with the years). Despite the thickness of the wood, the material folds into itself and forms crops and sidebranches as the old man brushes over it.

Tanith says, "We are here to discuss what is happening in Haven." She ignores the murmurs. "A representative of the Outcasts came to me; he spoke of claiming our own land here in Bordertown... to the docks, to keep what is safe beneath the ground ours. Jointly."

"Claiming?" The slightly cracked voice of Kaitye speaks up, "Who has tried to take it away from us?" At least recently. "Those outside... let them have their war over space. They will leave us alone."

BroadShoulders shakes his head. "I do not want to claim the docks. Let the Atlanteans keep the waterside -- what do we want with it? If they objected, we could not hold it. Bordertown is our place, but while Atlanteans patrol it, it is not."

Snowhair grimaces. "Who cares what others do? Our places are beneath -- let the surface rot," she says, in an irascible tone of voice.

"They are always trying to take what is ours," SkyDark growls, snapping his jaws. Graisha thoughts. "Take our things. And we take from them... I would... want this land."

Ravenbright gives a shrug, "Let them have the whole damn place. I say, and I still say, we should move into the forests." Live like proper Sylvans.

Sharpeyes raises his staff, swinging it threateningly into the air empty air, while letting it flow into the form of a mean axe. Despite his eighty years, he is still agile and spirited. "Outcast, eh? What can such a young kitten, who has seen nothing of the world, know about it? Why does he want to give us something he doesn't even have?" With a bit of a grumble, he adds, "But I wouldn't mind claiming more of the land above. If only but to beat the yowling Hounds furry butts."

Tanith says, "To the docks, Broadshoulders, not the docks themselves. But yes... the Empyreans have claimed land. The Varati have claimed land. Even the Atlanteans have claimed something... although what use is land to them?" She frowns. "I do not like that we must cling to tunnel life, merely because that is what we have been left. However, Sharpeyes brings a point... The Hounds come. Broadshoulders spoke earlier that the Atlanteans will come with their minds-eye and may find our sacred places... I have heard even Delphi looks to our land to claim. I like none of it."

"Then we chase them away. But why chase them when they are not here?" Kaitye looks about to the others, her back ramrod straight.

BroadShoulders says, "I say we take advantage of Delphi's disarray. Many who were lost to us have returned, in the confusion -- men and women trained as warriors and keepers of the peace. Let us join the others and declare our part of the city as our own -- if only to keep those infernal mind-readers away. The Hounds never cared to come here anyway -- it was never a place they were welcome."

SharpEyes taptaps with his formed wooden axe on the ground, "I have seen to many of the indigo-clad people who claim to keep the ways of the wild sniff around in our territory lately. We are no squirrels to hide upon the trees. Like our cousins are rulers of the forest, we should become rulers of the city. Our part of the city. If anybody cares to help us claim it, all the better."

Snowhair mutters, "Bugger the city," with her usual lack of tact. "We already claim the whole city as our own, for the Nancha to feed us and provide for us from. Who cares about the 'official' boundaries? Why bother drawing a border when we already take what we want?"

Kaitye's eyes dart to SharpEyes and she scowls, "And who are you to say that these Outcasts won't try and rule us?"

SkyDark barks! "I will no' be ruled!"

SharpEyes does what he can do best: peer intensely at Snowhair, "Don't you remember the fate of SlowPaw? How the Hounds dragged him to that accursed Citadel, after he began rearranging the flower beds in the city garden?" He doesn't immediately answer Kaitye's eyes, but instead shoots an expectant glance at Tanith, pushing his shoulders back. "What do you say, Gaze-Goes-Dark? You spoke with that representative. Would they try to take all we have won from us? What do they want?"

RavenBright merely mutters to himself and looks to Snowhair. He's with her.

BroadShoulders says, "Rubbish. We are hundreds strong, Inkana, and you well know we are respected by many Sylvans who are not with the Tribe. Between us, the Sylvans of this city can surely deal with the Outcasts. We know this city as no others do -- and we have many graisha."

Tanith says, "I wonder if the Outcasts are stronger because they feel they have nothing to lose. We are friends... we are magic users, we are 'purebloods' and therefore natural enemies. Where does it stop?" She shakes her head, troubled. "I cannot 'see' the future... in this -- it has remained dark. The Gods leave this decision to us."

Katiye's eyes narrow, "Who cares about the Hounds? We can handle them if they come in here. The Outcasts have magics we don't. They have resources we don't. And they are more."

Snowhair shrugs. "Magically, they have few advantages. We are Sylvan, after all. We have the advantage of the graisha, as well -- what better assassin is there than one who can truly go unnoticed?"

SharpEyes humpfs and puffs, stomping the staff in the soft earth to release some energy. "I have to see if I can trust those Outcasts. How much do they know about our way of life, our gods, our beliefs? I will not exchange one ignorant rule for another. But if they stay out of my way, so that all of us can walk above the ground again, and claim what is ours, we shall do it!"

BroadShoulders says, "If they make a claim open, and Delphi returns to its mage-snatching ways, their lives will all be in danger and their magics as good as taken, blocked or even Tapped. They need to work through we Sylvans, or they risk too much. We have as much hold over them as they have over us."

SkyDark yips again at Broadshoulder's words. "Aye, secrecy... Nancha are so... for we must gather... We will keep our land ourselves... Secret people. We are night people, we can protect our own. "

Snowhair hmmphs. "I still don't see why we need to claim the surface. Bugger the surface. We've always taken what we wanted, when we wanted to -- I see no reason for that to change."

"I am with SkyDark. We can protect our own. We can share the tunnels and our lands with the Outcasts, but I do not want them ruling us." Katiye scowls at those who are willing to let the Outcasts take control of their lives...as she sees it.

Tanith says, "Change may come whether we want it or not, Snowhair. It all depends on how we wish to see the outcome of it be. Once others fully claim the topside, then it would only be time until they claim the underneath..."

"But they don't even know about the underneath," Snowhair mutters, resentfully.

"Our realm is not only that of the tunnels beneath the earth," SharpEyes declares sharply. "We came here, because we had to hide. We have always run and hidden from the Delphi and its cleaves, but never faced it. We have never accepted it. Now is the time of change. And it could be the time that we declare that we accept only our heritage, our own and our place. Should we truly miss it? Should we truly leave the ground above us to the pesky fish-people, or the fiery children of the Phoenix? One will drain our gardens, the others will burn it."

BroadShoulders says, "And the children of the winds are as fickle as their element," agreeing. "I say we claim our section of the city and allow the Outcasts to stay within."

Tanith taps her fingers on the bench and looks at Sharpeyes, amused. "I do not think they would drain our gardens. However, the Atlanteans... I do not view them as a threat. I think perhaps we could form a treaty with them if we had to. But what is the question really here? Is it land? Or is it protection?"

Snowhair comments, "Protection of our ways. Where the fish roam freely, no secret is safe -- and we are a people of secrets. To protect our people, we must remove them from our streets."

Tanith says, "And remove them how? By creating a barrier? How is that our way?"

"Hide? Who had to hide?" Kaitye looks once more to SharpEyes, "I have lived in the tunnels all my life and never felt that I had to hide. But if we have these Outcasts knowing our every secret, then we will have to hide."

BroadShoulders says, "By simply telling them they are not needed. Many of those who have returned to us are fully capable of keeping the peace -- even the Atlanteans will have to admit that when they see it."

"And so," Tanith begins with a calming breath, "we tell these other races that we do not need them here. We set up our own patrols... but they are still welcome to roam. They are welcome to hide?" She frowns. "This is like setting up barriers. Maybe SkyDark is right. We set up our own patrols... we let them know, in secret, that they are not wanted."

SharpEyes plops his staff once again out of the earth, taking a whole lot of rotten roots with it. "I had to hide!" he says loudly, assertively. "The Hounds wanted to take me away as well, when I was still younger. They thought my ability was a threat." The staff hardens and smoothens out in his hands, revealing once more that his ability could damn well be dangerous. "Only because their spies are so stupid, I could manage to escape in a hollow tree. But perhaps you are right. The Outcasts could become quite a pest to us. Does anybody really know anything about them? And what they know about us?"

"We will bite them when they do not see. If they try to bite us... we will bare our teeth." Skydark, unfortunately, drools when he speaks due to his canine head trying to create Sylvan words. "Nancha are secret-keepers."

Kaitye nods to SkyDark, "If the Outcasts want to patrol the surface with us, that is fine. But no one controls it."

Tanith glances at Broadshoulders. "A secret movement?"

BroadShoulders says, "Secret movement, Inkana? I do not see what you mean..."

Tanith says, "We do not break our secret trust of our tribe... Some Outcasts know of us -- but many do not. The tunnels prevent them. If we form a group to... dissuade others from coming to areas of Bordertown to keep it safe for our folk... and the Outcasts... then we do not step forward and say this is our area. We stay out of unwanted politics." She pauses, thinking. "We will do this... unless we are invaded..."

BroadShoulders shakes his head. "I think the best way to get the Atlanteans out of our streets is to declare our streets our own. Build no walls unless we must -- simply turn away their peacekeepers at our boundaries."

Kaitye crosses her arms, "I agree with Tanith. We form groups to tell others to go away. We declare nothing, but keep the fish-folk away and the Hounds away."

SharpEyes peers through the round, before he states, "Let us seize the chance and declare our own. As Sylvans. In the name of all the Sylvans of the city. Only that will keep the others away. We can make use of those Outcasts when we need them, but we will never bow to them, give them anything they do not deserve or let them rule what is ours!"

BroadShoulders says, "Agreed, SharpEyes."

Kaitye narrows her eyes once more, "Why do you have to declare anything? We know that this is our part of the City, why do you men always have to make these announcements? Are you lacking in something?" Her green eyes sparkle a bit among the harsh words.

Tanith holds a single hand up and the discussion is halted. She shakes her head. "There is no agreement here. I will make more inquiries and we will convene later. I will tell the Outcast leaders that we will not join them until the tribe is united behind a cause." Her dark green eyes gaze down upon them as she stands. "We will be united behind one idea, or none at all."

BroadShoulders nods. "Aye, Shaman," he says, simply.

"Because it is our children who constantly have to dodge the Hounds when they take from..." Tanith's conclusion halts his answer, and he simply nods obediently to the shaman's words. "As you say, Gaze-Goes-Dark. We need to be as one in this."

Tanith says, "Perhaps the Gods will then speak to us. Unless this is all Tupuran's folly." She speaks this harshly. "Think on it amongst yourselves. I will not be a warrior... unless war is decided upon. Go."

SharpEyes retries his staff, swinging it one last time to let the other elders know that he is after all those years still a warrior, and not one who's afraid. Then he gets up and turns to the edge of the garden, soon disappearing among it.

Kaitye stands, not replying, but obviously agreeing with the Shaman. Slowly, she makes her way back to the caverns and some much-needed rest.

FIN  

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