Nevendaar The Vast Chapter I - The Crossroad City (IC)

Nevendaar The Vast Chapter I - The Crossroad City

The Crossroad City, Town Hall

'Twas quite a mess that raged within the confines of an unnamed city's town hall. Scribes, scholars and secretaries scurried this way and that, carrying various papers, letters and documents with themselves in a rush to prepare for a grand event. Among all this chaos, as dozens of shuffling feet passed by one another and tapped along the wooden floor, all but one seemed rather excited. In the following week, the council members would arrive and claim leadership of the city. It was an optimistic week, if anything, though, there was one elf among the menagerie of attentive scholars that welcomed the change more calmly, even slightly warily.

Drussilla'an was never quite a normal elf. It took only one moment for any man to see that, for none of her kin shared the light violet hue of her skin, and only the eldest of her kind had locks of steel and silver as she did. She was not old, however, nor was she too tired to join in the excitement. Since the days of the wars, this once exuberant and gentle creature had grown distant and cold, looking through a black lens at most of what transpired on Nevendaar. After so much death everywhere, truly, who would have expected it all to just end one day? As the first cousin to the queen Illumielle and a vocal advocate of peace during the times of war, when the elves would march to the west, she was chosen to deal with the administrative duties of the town, until the council was selected in full. And this week, she would step down to the position of advisor. She only had to wonder if any would heed her advice as her words fell on deaf ears only a handful of years before.

Drussilla'an stood from the chair she was sitting on and beheld the smooth, polished surface of the council's table. It was a humble piece, functional and lined with six chairs to fit its role. She had received letters with the names and history of the future council members, but she'd just barely forced herself to read them. No letter would have told her who these people are and she knew more than most that her queen had not always displayed the best judgment. Words she'd never speak in public, perhaps, if only to save herself the backlash and the crumbling of the already fragile relations with her cousin on the throne. She turned then, and took small, leisurely steps toward a rather ornate wooden door, its surface etched with floral patterns. She stepped through it and found herself on a small balcony overlooking the cobbled square below. She was glad to see it was busier than the day she first arrived, several months ago. Then she raised her eyes to the horizon. Her lips quirked upward somewhat as elven eyes could just barely make out a column of large dots in the distance. As they approached, they grew in detail, taking humanoid shapes.

"At last, they're here." the elf murmured to herself, raising her hands to her hips, if but for a moment, she too allowed herself a moment of optimism.

The Crossroads City was an unfamiliar and not entirely pleasant experience for Idril. The most startling aspect of the city-in-construction was the demographics of its inhabitants; in few, if any, other settlements of the world could one find elves, humans and dwarves living side by side. The harmony of the scene seemed to Idril as if it only added to the unsettling situation she found herself in. Idril, somewhat pessimistically, likened the city to a foul stew. Every wrong ingredient all mixed together to forge the worst broth any of the three races had ever seen. It took an astounding feat of metacognition for Idril to hope as dearly as she did that she was wrong.

Fixing her robe and raising an eyebrow at the Town Hall, Idril did not find herself comforted. Where she was from, the centre of government in a city was an exuberant palace. Luxury required an abundance of resources, something with Idril had hoped, or perhaps unduly assumed, she and her compatriots would find themselves in possession of when they took care of the matters of running the city. The Town Hall's exterior seemed to show no hint of the finesse of construction required in building a city's mantle-piece. Perhaps that was just the thing that Idril could find herself preoccupied with in the immediate future, though. Making things seem a little... nicer. If a dish was noxious, the least a server could do would be to create the illusion that it is not.

Striding proudly forward with all of the dignity and majesty befitting an heiress, Idril stood at the entrance to the Town Hall and gazed over it with a discerning eye—as if comparing it to all of the castles and cabins she'd seen in her time. It seemed to hold little defensive value on top of it being made more to befit purpose, not style. Enclosing her soft, delicate hand around the hard wood door, Idril took her first ever few steps inside of the Hall she'd now be commanding a city from. An aesthetically unappealing, difficult to defend Town Hall which was overcrowded with over-eager workers diligently striding this way and that for some assumed purpose. It would seem to Idril that for all of the orderliness the building had apparently been made to accommodate, the interior showed chaos.

Maybe if the job wasn't refined, it could at least be challenging?

A wizard slowly made his way towards the new city, he rode upon a sturdy old horse that stood tall and surefooted with a steady gate. Trailing a few feet behind him was a smaller, very quirky, horse. The youthful animal was over laden with various forms of luggage. Despite the obvious weight that encumbered the beast it had a light trot and kept wandering to different sides of the trail as if exploring each new development. The wizard himself looked to be much less enthusiastic than the young horse and his hunched position betrayed the noble horse he rode upon. He wore a simple brown cloak over well worn riding cloths, and kept the hood covering his tired face protecting it from the sun and dust that raged along the long trail. However this all changed dramatically when he approached the last hill on the trail, because he knew his new home was just on the other side.

Illenial stopped on the crest of the small hill, spread before him was a small city. The countryside was dotted with cottages and huts in no particular order, and very few were similar. Without taking his eyes of the fledgling city he dismounted his horse and slipped the rough hood off his head.
With a deep breath the wizard breathed his hope across the city, "The first city of all the people in Nevendaar, A city that brings peace..."
The wizard carried on down the hill, leading his horses and remembering how he used those very words to keep the king vigilant in pursuing the new city. And it wasn't long before he was passing the meager wall into town center.

A smile broadened the face of the old warrior and he felt a youthfulness that he hadn't in many years. He turned to his riding horse and removed his long staff from a custom leather sheath on the beasts side.
"We survived another long trip Emry, lets go get a drink." Illenial ran his hand down the old horse's mane has he spoke and proceeded on to a covered wagon that was being used has a makeshift market stall. Much to the Wizard's delight he found a dwarf sitting atop a keg in the wooden wagon, who prompty jumped up when he saw the wizard approaching.
"Hail traveler! How bout' some fine dwarven ale fresh from the mountains?! Nothin' better to loosen you up after a long day of travel." The dwarf had already turned around and was filling a mug when Illenial spoke, "Make that two mugs and news of the town if you know any." The wizard set two silver coins on the counter before he took the drinks. He knew dwarves were proud of their ale, much like their wares, and so didnt bother asking the cost he figured the extra coin would get the dwarf on his good side. Illenial dumped on mug into a bucket next to the stall before taking a long drag of his own, Emry's ears perked up at the frothy drink a soon buried his snout in the bucket. The merchant smiled at the coins and grabbed them quickly before speaking, "Ah not much that I can tell you honestly, I just arrived a few days ago. Ive been working and living in the wagon until I decide if this town will pan out." The dwarf smacked the side of his cart has he talked "My names Rute by the way! Fresh from the mountains I packed all my wares and made my way south has soon as I heard about this town. I knew it was the perfect place to open my new shop!" The small man eyes gleemed when he spoke and it warmed Illenial's soul to see someone else putting their hopes into this town, the ale helped also. "The town has slowly been getting new people each day. Why just a little while ago a elf rode in and went strait to the castle. She was your typical elf, all neat and arrogant like a day on the trail dont hurt their arse just like the rest of us!" Jute had his own mug now and was quick to laugh, it looks like he wasnt the first delegate to arrive, no suprise there. In fact, he thought there would be more here by now. Illenial laughed politely before finishing his mug. "Well Jute your ale is excellent, but im more interested in something else." The wizard paused has he gauged the dwarfs reaction, Jute was a talented merchant, he kept laughing like he was still enjoying his joke but put his drink down and looking intently at the man before him. "Aye, what would that be?" Illenial knew dwarves were very particular about their ore, they were very careful about who used it in their crafting, "Dwarven Steel." A wave of understanding washed over the dwarf he relaxed into a comfortable haggling stance.
"That wont be cheap Im afraid, weaponsmiths travels for weeks on end to get our precious steel. There is no other metal quite like it..."
"Ill have gold Jute..."
"Yes yes, but you dont look like a blacksmith. What need of you of our ore? I dont let humans sell my ore traveler, you never know whose hands it will end up in."
Illenial rotated the staff in his hands so that the Mage's College emblem was clearly visible,
"It will be in honorable hands friend, three gold pieces."
Jute eyed the staff and then the wizard for a long breath before he spoke again,
"Four."

Illenial secured the grayish ore in a chest on Lily's side before leaving the dwarf and setting out for the castle. He hoped to get washed up before everyone arrived, but the dwarvish ale seemed to have washed the trail from his mouth and he was happy for it.

Around midmorning the Nameless City was treated to the finest display its short history had ever witnessed. No less than a hundred paladins rode through with all the pomp the Empire could muster. Banners flew in the wind and a trumpeter sounded off as the column halted near the Town Hall. Amidst the shinning armor and movement, Prince Conrad himself could almost go unnoticed. Almost.

Conrad’s travel cloak and clothing was much simpler than what might be expected of a prince and he wore no armor. However Conrad’s voice carried easily and he stood upon the steps of the Hall at the center of attention. Upon dismounting, Conrad turned to the two men who had ridden beside him the whole journey. One was clearly a scribe or servant rather than a warrior. The other seemed to be a paladin’s whose gaze could crack steel.

“Carlyle, Reginald, I trust you’ll take care of all the boring details. Security, quartering the men, and all that nonsense.”

The scribe bowed and replied, “At once my prince.”

“Excellent,” he said with a wide grin. “Then let’s get on with this. We have people to meet, wine to drink, and I simply must find that old codger Illenial. Riding on ahead and leaving me with all the bores. Simply unacceptable.”

As he walked through the doors Conrad didn’t really no what to think. Many things were still unknown and so he had decided to arrange a show. Everything from his splashy entrance to his clothing was intentional. Hopefully he would be able to read the reaction of the other councilors and get a handle on the situation. This work could easily be the most important of his life and right now there were only three men he could trust.

It was high noon and shafts of bright sunshine cut through any shelter lacking proper shade. Kartonk himself was making his way through a bustling and busy outdoor bazaar, and the market places many stalls and shops along with the new and upcoming residential upraises gave him respite from the sun. Every so often the light would peek through a gap in a sagging tethered canopy, or the wind would pick up and cause a clothesline overhead to shatter a bright ray downward toward the Dwarven Ambassador. Mr. Rustrock had taken the liberty of arriving to the Nameless City ahead of his fellow and yet-to-be-named ambassador, and for three days had shuffled about this curious place seeking out all its oddities and familiarities to better know the city he would soon be tasked with overseeing. So far he had made plenty of friends of all races and walks of life, such as an well to do elf that ran an alchemist shop near the main gate. Then there was the dwarven foreman who was being contracted to build a forge on the south side of town. Kartonk had even made acquaintances with a man, who took post as guard over the financial districts bank. Now he was diving into the fray that was the market, trying to ascertain if the city was prospering, or faltering. By all looks of it the token curiosity of the place was paying off, with such a diverse set of items coming in from immigrants and the port itself, made the locale a lucrative place.

Kartonk and his runemasters robe shuffled on through the crowd never the less, keeping his one good eye ever searching for something that might take his fancy. High King Bledwater had mentioned his beloved sweets that were a fruit of man, and so far he'd been unable to locate them. The glare of the midday heat was starting to get to him, and he could hear very regal sounding trumpets in the distance. He supposed the other council members were arriving by now, and with a short huff he picked up his pace. The stout dwarf could be seen meandering through the throngs of consumers and producers, warstaff bobbing up and down as he used it as both a walking stick and a plow. The cape of his cloak nipped off his back and one good catch the occasional shine of armor underneath, though only enough to be practical. His black beard hung to his chest in three knots, hiding most of his wardrobe, but one could tell by the way he strode that he was a veteran of war. Kartonk rummaged through his pockets, before pulling out a curious disc of bronze. On its back was the official emblem of the High King Bledwater, and on its other face was the numerical representation of time as held by the Dwarfs. This little keepsake was a gift from the king, a trinket that could keep time and serve as a proper seal of his office if need be. By all accounts though it meant Kartonk was due elsewhere.

He almost thought himself lost before he suddenly rounded a street and saw the Town Hall before him. He strode up to the main entrance, catching a large procession of paladins of manfolk. Apparently he was not the first to arrive. The humble war hero was very pert with his stature now, trying to offer the best presentation of his race for the good of his people. Deep in his heart as he took the steps strong and surely, he hoped that this venture would not end in blood shed for his people. It was a fear he always had, but his friend the High King, had assured him that he felt that this was a noble cause. Only time would tell.

As the councillors arrived one by one, some with large fanfare others not, they would be only curtly greeted by the numerous scribes and secretaries within Town Hall. The people, however, offered mixed reactions. The human occupants of the city had cheered and praised the arrival of the numerous paladins and their prince, many young and older maidens shouting his name through the crowds of merchants and commoners that had gathered in the Town Square's plaza to witness his flashy entrance. Though elves and dwarves still looked upon the prince's arrival with some optimism, most of their reactions were muted, even more so for Idril, Illenial and Kartonk's appearance. Notable though they were, Conrad was definitely the most popular councilman to arrive thus far. Life went on as usual after their arrival, though certainly tongues were wagging with anticipation, trade was bustling and the city was obviously prospering, with so many settlers and investors arriving that one would have to wonder how they could all fit into town.

Even though they were not in full retinue, Drussilla'an, the violet-skinned and silver haired elf that served as the sole councilor before their arrival, would greet them all as they arrived and seat them in a room with a round table, surrounded by six chairs, clearly meant to be symbolic in many ways.

Drussilla'an's appearance would be strikingly out of the ordinary even to an elf and even more so for the other races, though as with most elven nobility, she was also enchantingly pleasant to behold, despite her seemingly alien pigmentation. She'd greet each councilman with a warmth and enthusiasm that are usually absent in the manner of a politician. As one by one, the chairs 'round the council's table would become occupied with Ilenial and Conrad on one side, with Idril next to Illenial and Kartonk on Conrad's side, awaiting their respective co-councilmen. Their fair-skinned regent would stand aside from the table, leaning back against a door that led to the Hall's balcony.

"I hope you're all ready to have your very first Council Meeting." started Drusilla'an, folding her arms over her chest, her voice was up-beat and she seemed in a fair mood. "Once the others arrive, you'll have your first order of business and a few other matters. For now, though, enjoy yourselves, lady Arda should grace us with some of her legendary tea soon."

Soon enough, a venerable old human woman would step into the room, carrying a platter with a set of steaming cups. She was thin, almost like a twig and seemed just as frail, though she was surprisingly spry. After leaving the platter and exchanging some small-talk with Drussilla'an, she'd excuse herself, letting the councilmen get acquainted between themselves and with their own advisor.

Illenial embraced his young friend and prince, Conrad. They left for the city at different times, the Wizard had a few duties to take care of for The University before he arrived at his destination. Sitting at the table he studied the other ambassadors with an eye that only a old wizard could. The lady elf that ushered them in was quite the beautiful oddity, a rare gem among elves it seemed. Here elven sister was the image of what many in the Holy Empire considered Elves to be, arrogant and impassive. She was every bit has beautiful has elves could be, and Illenial knew she knew this as well. But, the black symbol sewn into her cloak told Illenial all he needed to know of the Elf, she was a heir to House Saralonde. The wizard respected the house for maintaining good judgment during the wars and for holding true to their values, it was an impossible situation and House Saralonde did the best they could, which happened to be better then most. The most interesting diplomat to him was the surely dwarf sitting next to Conrad. The wizard studied the runes etched into the dwarf's skin, raising his eyes slowly reading the story hidden in the Dwarf's appearance, Illenial was surprised to see the Dwarf looking at him with eyes equally has precise. With a knowing nod in his direction Illenial addressed the Elven diplomat next to him.

"It seems I am lucky to be seated among the caliber of people at this table, I am afraid I am not nearly has wise or powerful has some of you, but perhaps still luckier than the rest to be seated next to such a fine example of elven nobility." Illenial had a humble smile sitting atop his chin but his perceptive eyes studied the elf for her reaction. It would be important to learn the way with witch to negotiate with the other ambassadors, and he knew well how shrewd House Saralonde could be...

Though she had been taught in her lessons otherwise, Aelitae was of the firm opinion that a true leader was the very first to step foot on the field of battle and very last to leave it. That was what made her so uneasy about sending twenty of her knights, more than half of the Queen's Own, ahead to the as of yet nameless city a full week before she and the others departed. She'd wanted to arrive as a group, armor shining, a symbol of the might of the alliance. But, unfortunately, that put other, more important objectives at odds. After surveying a map of the new city, she'd decided to claim the small barracks adjacent to the Town Hall for her men. It was, after all, important that she have access to them at all times. She took her job too seriously to delegate any responsibilities to her subordinates. She planned everything from squads to to training, and kept very close tabs on every soldier under her command. Although she knew her duties to her men would now have to come second to her duties as a councilor, she still wanted to remain as close to them as possible. So those knights, along with the fifteen servants who looked after them and the several wagons carrying their necessary equipment, left early. Aelitae and ten others stayed, preparing the queen's new guards for their duties. On that last day before they left, she went to visit her mother and sister at the family estate. And then she left.

As she approached the city, Aelitae hoped that she and her men would produce at least some of her desired effect on arrival. Each fully armored knight rode atop of an equally armored horse. She'd told them to look their best, and they certainly did, even after days of traveling. But she felt a certain twinge of annoyance as she rode up and saw, in the distance, a group of more than one hundred soldiers. Humans, of course. She knew instantly that there was no following such a display. And, indeed, as she rode and hers rode up a few minutes later, there was very little fanfare. Non-elves cast them the occasional interested glance before returning to their work, some casting slightly wary looks their way. Even one with very little knowledge of military matters would have at least a passing knowledge of the group, for their former leader's slaying of the last dwarven queen, or their other achievements in the war. But elves regarded them with respectful looks, and even a few smiles, particularly those who recognized from her and knew of her exploits in war. Though she ignored dwarves and humans for the most part, she was sure to make eye contact with every elf that she saw, and give them at least a nod of acknowledgement. These were her people, after all. They were the ones she was there to protect.

As she and her men approached the Town Hall, appropriately located at the center of the small town, she couldn't help but notice how crowded the area was. The civilians kept their distance from the groups of riders, if only out of fear for being trampled, but covered the rest of the small area in numbers she simple wasn't used to. "Bring the beasts to our barracks," She ordered, as she dismounted from her horse. "Take the rest of the day to familiarize yourselves with the city. Normal training resumes at dawn. Inform the others upon seeing them, as I do not know how long this little meeting will last."

After speaking, she strode with long steps towards the large building's doors. Confident that her orders were being followed, she did not so much as look back. A secretary directed her towards where the councilors were meeting. She practically threw the doors open upon entry, forgetting herself out of an impatience that had arisen despite her being one of the last to arrive. Her eyes darted about the room as the would on a battlefield, quickly appraising the other councilors present.

Her eyes fell first on younger of the two humans present. Royalty, she decided, almost immediately. His clothing and lack of scars, calluses, or any other proof of physical labor could easily point to him being nobility or even the child of a merchant house. It was the age that got her. Were he an elf, it would be possible that he was no more than fifty or so years younger than herself, so for a moment she paid it no mind. But when she consciously translated the physical appearance to human age, she was somewhat surprised. He was little more than a child, even by the standards of the short-lived humans. His being royalty could, for Aelitae, be the only explanation for why he was allowed there. She labeled him as a non-threat.

She next appraised the older of the two. Though still young to her -This was inevitable, as she saw all humans as young- he seemed old enough in mentality, at least, to warrant a bit more consideration. He had an air of power that even Aelitae had to acknowledge. A magic user, no doubt. And a smart one, or so it seemed. She would have to be cautious with him.

Then she looked towards her fellow elf, an elegant young woman who an arrogant look that Aelitae found to be rather irksome. Perhaps because it reminded her too much of herself. This young woman wore the sigil of a member of the house of Saralonde. The very same house who publicly spoke against the queen's choices to go to war, an act that Aelitae regarded as being on par with treason. If she was correct, though, this young woman was a mage who went against her family and fought with the army against the other two races. This alone would give her enough points in Aelitae's eyes to counteract the acts of her family, but there was something about her that she simply did not like. Rather, that she felt would put them at odds.

Finally, the dwarf, a familiar face she had not expected to see here, of all places. Kartonk Rustrock. She'd inquired after his name after their second encounter in battle. A fellow warrior; formidable, honorable, and one of the very few non-elves to earn her respect. The last time she'd seen him was at the battle of the dwarven capital, in which the queen Yataa'Halli was killed. Of all of councilors, she regarded him with the least suspicion.

It took only the seconds between her entering and her making her way to her seat to reach these conclusions. She was a woman who generally stood by her first impressions, and she was comfortable enough in them that she allowed herself to glance towards the oddly colored woman standing a bit away from the table. She spoke naught to the others, forgoing her usual strategy of charging straight ahead into conflict and instead waiting to see what the others did. This was, after all, a different kind of battlefield entirely, and it was one on which she had to use the utmost caution.

The doors to the council chamber burst open to reveal the striking visage of an elven knight. Kartonk already had is warstaff at hand, and eased the snaphand reaction of white knuckled alarm when it was apparent this was not an attack. He let his tense muscles relax and with a short huff eased into a more comfortable position in his chair, snacking his limps and furrowing his brow in agitation over letting himself be rustled in a honored sanctum such as this. It was an unfortunate reflex brought up him and his fellow dwarfs after the last few years of war across the land, and one that would have to subside if any workings at peace were to be made. He sat his staff back across his lap, the iron-wrought spikes hovering over the mithril chainmail under his cloak as he did so. He let his gaze fall back to the new found elf as she took her seat, his one good eye catching all the regal dissimilarity between her and her noble associate. Where sword fell to pen, and fashion to functionality, Kartonk found himself suddenly recalling that grim elven face. The corners of his mouth gave the slightest of twists as a warm grin appeared under his trice knotted raven beard, and he gave a stern and brisk nod of the head toward the fellow warrior. They had cross paths many a time before this fated meeting, and Kartonk would not be lying if this meeting was one of tooth and nail, axe and shield, rather than subterfuge and silver tongue. In his mind, he imagined Aelitae thought the same, even if the last time he had done battle against her, his queen befell the most terrible of fates. That somber memory caused him to let out a deep but subtle sigh, turning his gaze from the elven contingent and toward the inquiring eyes of a wizard none the less.

Kartonk was knowledgeable with humans, perhaps more than the average dwarf, but the sight of magical stock was always a rarity. Being the champion of what appeared to be a pup of royal pedigree did little to sway Kartonk's curiosity. The children of men were always full of surprises and even one as young(if he recalled right, he'd fought wars longer than the young ambassador may have very well lived.) as this would need to be taken seriously if anything tangible were to come of this meeting. Still, a wizards scrutiny seemed to burn into his skin as he could feel those eyes soaking him in. It seemed well enough that he returned Kartonk's wordless appraisal with a polite nod, so perhaps the humans weren't all blood and thunder. He tugged the knots in his beard absentmindedly, taking obvious note of the fact he was the sole dwarven representative here, and in fact sole dwarf in the room, with nothing but an empty chair to his side to accompany him. Mr. Rustrock therefore assumed that the High King's court was still in deliberation over the election of the second representative to the Nameless City. If the odd skinned chairman of this assembly did not know this yet, it would befall him to inform her. He made a mental note to just that, should the question arrive. Until then the dwarf of war idly sat, passing a curious glance ever so often at his fellows, and more than one knowing glance at the elven war hero.

Drussilla'an, the oddly colored advisor, had spent a few moments keeping a keen eye on the members of the council. Immediately, she began to suspect that the members of her race would be more difficult to get along with, for the other councilmen. Nevertheless, she appeared to be very pleased with those that had gathered, noting the one, missing dwarvish council member. As they sat 'round the table, she stepped forward, away from the nearby window and placed her hands on the polished surface of the table. She leaned forward, letting her weight fall on her arms and she looked between each of the council in turn as she turned, slowly.

"I, for one, am very pleased to have you all here. This is an ambitious endeavor for us all, and our peoples, I'm sure, have high hopes for this city's prosperity. As your advisor, it shall be my task to relay to you, the most important matters of state, keep you up to date on the state of our armed forces and pass on any propositions or correspondence." she then reached back into a small pouch she'd slung over her shoulder, retrieving a rolled up scroll from it and placing it at the center of the table, then unfurling it for all to see.

"This document, will declare our city's unique position as politically independent, open to members of any race, capable of living by its laws. The constitution itself is added in this document as well, as it was agreed upon by the monarchs of our peoples, it would be best if you familiarized yourself with it, 'tis not very complex. All that remains is the result of your first official council meeting - the official name of the city and your signatures. In place of our one missing dwarvish councilman, I've been allowed to place my own signature in his, or her, stead."

The document is written in a neat, flowing script that is both easily legible and pleasant to behold, likely the work of the advisor herself. The constitution of the thus far unnamed city, was rather straightforward. The city itself was politically independent, with the right to muster its own armed forces, create its own businesses and expand upon the constitution as the Council sees fit. It's laws concerning relations between nobility and the common folk are thus far unwritten, as are the specifics of a number of others. Freedom of religion has been agreed upon by all three races, equality between the sexes was heavily advocated by both the Empress and the High King of the Mountain Clans, and as per the elvish mode, freedom of sexuality also found its way into the document. Still, it is expressly written that the council has the right to change , add and remove laws at will.

"And so...let the first official meeting of the Council begin. The topic at hand, is the official name which will be added into the chronicles of history, cartography and all other works of literature, denoting our fledgling city. I leave that, councilmen, to you." and with that, Drussilla'an retreated back to lean against the wall near her window, arms folded loosely and her posture relaxed. With the bustle flowing in through the opened window, the councilmen were left to make their decision. What would their new home be named?