[b][u][center] Adjutor Insula[/center][/u][/b]

[b]The Helper and the Warrior[/b]

“The Scorched King will not accept a treaty from us, I fear,” muttered Lord Defender Marcus Aticus sullenly. He slumped in his chair, partly because the meeting had reached its seventh hour, and partly because he was certain that Guide Charity IX was an ignorant fool. “They have love of Blood Sin, matched by few in these parts.” 

Guide Charity was an elderly man, ravaged by nine decades of life on the frozen island. His eyes had dulled with senile blindness, and an attendant had to keep swabbing at the spittle dribbling from the left side of his mouth with a cloth. 

“Beloved brother,” Charity croaked, more than said, “are you asking me to… shut off Adjutor Insula from the world?” 

Marcus flinched. He knew the old man, though physically diminished, still held a mind sharper than any sword. The Guide was openly accusing him of heresy, though in the nicest and vaguest way possible.

“No My Guide,” Marcus replied, sitting himself up. “I just do not see why we should send any of our peoples to a waiting executioner. The Scorched King respects strength, not diplomacy.” 

“And,” Charity mumbled weakly. His head shaking with the strain as his aged neck fought the weight. “When was helping a neighbour a sign of weakness?” 

The Lord Defender suddenly felt a pulse of anger, and quickly knocked it from his mind with a divine slap of reason. [i]Calm, brother.[/i] he thought to himself. “My Guide, you are a good man, the greatest of the Order – there is no doubt. But I feel that you are perhaps trying to feed sharks with sleeping babes by your insistence on this matter.” 

“I do not care,” the Guide replied weakly. “We have dallied on this enough. Lord Defender, you have my love, and my thanks, for your council. However, my mind is set on strengthening relations with the one you call ‘The Scorched King’.” He paused briefly, to dig into his white robes, and produced a rolled scroll. “Have this taken to KarKarth. Choose a man who is eager to join The Great Faran in the Heavens, and have him deliver it to the King directly.” 

Marcus bit his lip, but relented when he realised he could not sway the Guide’s mind. “As you wish, My Guide.” He paused, and considered his actions briefly. “I am… sorry for doubting your judgement.”

The Guide waved his hand, and smiled warmly – well, as much as his worn face muscles would allow, anyway. “There is nothing to be sorry for, Lord Defender. I have always valued our friendship, and your wisdom.” 

[hider=Letter to The Scorched King]

Scorched King, Lord of Blades, King of Flames, Vanquisher Dracon,

Your mighty kingdom humbles we of Adjutor Insula, with its strength, its resolve and its beauty. Yours is a rich history, riddled with the tapestries of honour and heroism that will forever be remembered by those of my people dedicated to singing the songs of the world. 

It is for this reason, that I feel it nessecary to bring our peoples close together. We have had a cold past, and for that, Adjutor Insula must carry some of the guilt. Previous men and women, who held my position in years past, feared you for your warlike ways. 

I do not fear you. 

I do not fear you because you are a great hero, and a true warrior, devoted to the ways of honour. Whilst I cannot condone acts of conquest, I can respect the beliefs behind them. You had your reasons for doing what you have done, for adding to Death’s gluttonous realm, and were our positions reversed, I may have done the same – if I had a margin of your stomach, that is. 

I write to you to offer you an unconditional Disaster Relief Treaty. Under such a treaty, my nation will be at your beck and call in dealing with the greatest of natural disasters this sore world can throw at us. Furthermore, the treaty covers starvation relief; especially when a civilian populace becomes the victim of a food shortage in times of war. 

In return for this treaty, all I ask for is an annual donation of 250 guilders (gold coins), which we will use to maintain and expand our existing disaster relief capabilities. 

If you reject my offer, then there is no bad blood between us, and never shall there be. I am merely offering our services because the Great Faran, rest his soul, would be turning in his grave to see my peoples shut out another.

I await your correspondence, but until then, I pray you keep well,

Guide Charity IX of Adjutor Insula.[/hider]