A Meeting at the Portal

The Am'shere portal exists outside of the city. A rather large fort has been erected around a shimmering tear in time and space. It is here that representatives from both sides of the portal, the tribal empire of the Sith-Makar and the government of Alexandria, have arranged to meet and discuss alarming threats.

Adventurers who will either be facing or have already faced oddities with regards to Am'shere are invited as well to share their stories or ask questions.

The fort is just opening for traffic and visitation.

Ga'Elian watches the portal from the branch of a nearby tree, his griffon nestle around the tree's trunk.

Azog is here because there might be a chance at fighting something. He hasn't had that chance in a while. Enemies sometimes attack get-togethers like this. That's just part of the natural order. He eyes around the area.

Hun'rar stands off to the side at attention, in full dragon armor and with his broad shield strapped across his back. The whole thing worries him, just too much that can go wrong.

Astaren is arguing with one of the keepers of the portal. "I have told you this, even wrote a thesis. You can add enchantments to the portal directly to prevent cross realm contagions and agents from passing through. There is no need for all the delousing and cleaning, and extra hours of processing that you do, ON both sides." Nearly yelling and then turning around and huffing as he walks away, "I really hope by the time I get another request that requires me to go through a portal I can just plane shift it instead." gurgling as he looks around and smiles faintly.

Un'eth is not an official representative of The Empress and Am'shere, nor of Alexandria. She does, however, hold knowledge, experience, and concern for both. The last thing she wishes are raising tensions between the two, and there are far too many factors to raise them as of late. Thus she arrives from a Mictlan still resettling itself, after one of the most recent factors.

Durrankar has been on guard for a while now. Mostly because of the Charneth threat that recently happened. He's not likely to leave his post under his current mood.

Ga'Elian considers that while the Ygrassil Union does concern itself with developments that the world on a world scale, the Green is more concerned with preserving nature and its denizens than the politics of nations. Still, war tends to wreak destruction wantonly. Regardless of political victories, nature is usually trampled and burned by both sides of such conflicts. Ga'Elian is here to look out for the interests of the environment.

Svarshan stands alongside another sith-makar. The woman beside him holds her head high. He looks at her; she does not look at him. Determinedly, almost fragilely, Vthria heads towards the portal with her caravan. Svarshan stands there, his hands clenched at his sides, before he goes to seek out the shamans.

Hun'rar shrugs his shoulders, wishing he could itch his neck under his armor. "Good day master orc, how was the exercise?" he asks moving up to Azog.

Selerik sits to watch the discussion curiously. He managed to get his hands on a bag of Rune-style pastry puffs, somehow. Lucky bugger.

Un'eth does not expect Durrankar to leave his post, regardless of mood, though she is aware of the latter. She alters her path to approach him as much as the fortress, coming to a stop alongside. A firm, brief thump of tail along the ground accompanies "Cihuaa" as greeting.

"...there iss peasse." Svarshan says, his voice thick before Durrankar can say anything. He doesn't say much himself for a while, after that. And then...a determined look coming over his features, he strides towards a set of tumbles rocks, and leaps atop them. Vthria glances back at him. "...ssa. If I could have everyone's attention," he says. Then adds, "Pleasse."

Astaren is making his way through the crowds and glances to Svarshan as he jumps on top of the rocks, "Oh this is going to get interesting." A touch of a smile as he crosse waits.

Ga'Elian hops down from the tree and tells his griffon, "Stay" in <Sildanyari> then lightly, quickly, and silently joins in the gathering assembly.

Durrankar turns his head towards Vthria before placing his hand on Svarshan's shoulder. He even thumps his tail towards Un'eth. "Cihuaa." he hisses towards her. He is glad she is there....as told by his tail partly wrapping around hers.....

Azog looks to see what Svarshan is saying. The Sith usually only speaks when it's important.

Un'eth does not appear to be more at peace than Durrankar nor others may be, yet her brother's words draw snout and eyes towards him and Vthria. She listens, now, curious as to what words Svarshan chooses to share with all gathered. She expects that they will be ...efficient.

"...thank you. Normally, thesse words would come from a Speaker-caste, but thiss one iss warrior, But, no Sspeaker iss here, today." Svarshan thumps his tail once, against the stones. "Sso you have my. Poor wordss insstead," he says, his mouth twitching at the end.

"On the other sside of the Portal many decadess ago. The Charneth began a war. Ssertain mages joined them, And, ssome of our people, took ssides." He looks over at his former cihuaa, and back. "Many did sso for good reasons. They did sso becausse they loved their children and undersstood--they felt afraid. All ssoftskins, iss like thiss, becausse wass all they ssaw."

He falls quiet a moment. Raises his voice. It still halts, and breaks, but he forces the words through. "But three dayss ago, we sstood together. The Charneth came. They came with our children. They turned them into waking. Bombss and raving beassts. THey came with fire and. Chainss."

"And we fought them back. Together."

He takes a breath, and lets it out. "You cannot imagine what that meanss. Or how, sseeing your fasses, letss us--my people, who were afraid, undersstand how good you are. How all are not Charn." He looks to Vthria, "Even if. ...even if it may take time for ssome of uss to ssee."

There's murmuring assent from the Sith-Makar arriving as Svarshan speaks. Rumors have been out and about about what's happened, of course.

An elderly looking man with a great bushy beard and a rather expansive midsection as stepped out of the fortress himself. He seems to be being accorded a rather great deal of respect. In his right hand rests a sickle made of sharpened darkwood.

Hun'rar raises his visor, not just to get a better view but also hear better. When Svarshan talks about Charn he shifts uncomfortably. "So what is this supposed to symbolize?" he murmurs half to himself.

Svarshan lowers his muzzle and holds it there. "There will be a sselebration tomorrow. Pleasse come and know the warrior-casste will make you ssafe and welcome. There will be dansses and, Much bacon." he says, almost as an afterthought, and with humor.

Then, he drops from the rocks, "Too many wordss," he says, self-conscious. And all but jogs from the rocks to get away from it.

"I was sorry to hear what happened at Mictlan. Things seems are rough for the Sith-Makar all over right now," says the bearded man.

"My name is Lidorian. Some of you might know me. Some of you might not." If some of you do it's only because he works here at the portal as one of the druids trying to keep the existence of a portal to another ecological biome from upsetting the balance of this one or vice versa.

"This is my counterpart with the government of Alexandria, Shazrai O'ma."

He gestures towards a stern looking elven woman with tightly braided hair. A Dawn Elf, to be sure.

None too far from him is a Sith-Makar, young and spry with bright blue scales. "I am Sovali," he offers. "I am here in the name of the Empress."