[h2]The Republic of Rumanaya[/h2]
[h3]High Priest of Strength Addresses Queen Leinani of the Qalyxh Isles[/h3]
‘[i]Dear[/i] High Priest,’ the Queen intoned imperiously, ‘perhaps I have not explained the urgency of my people’s situation thoroughly enough?’

‘Your majesty, I assure you, we are all thoroughly aware of the need to manage your people’s plight in swift order,’ Pema Faham assured her, again, for the fourth day in a row. ‘That cannot happen without-’

‘It can [i]readily[/i] happen, High Priest, if you would but persuade your people of the necessity of helping those in need by taking back what has been wrongfully stolen! Do you not value such things?’ she interrupted, leading Pema to stroke his trunk with one hand. Family, but she was trying, and apparently she had it in mind that his position as a “mere” High Priest put him beneath her in status. Technically, this might be true, if one considered the Ruling Council the highest authority. That, however, would be like claiming one individual could know all - they were leaders politically, he and his fellow High Priests were religiously-inclined experts, and they had plenty of other roles to fill in besides. A modicum of respect would be appreciated, regardless.

‘Once again, I must be clear that war is not my decision to pursue,’ he stated, firmly enough to ascertain his position without offending her - and yet, offended she was, by the curl of her lip. ‘I [i]could[/i] certainly rile indaj and kobold alike, bring them to match your mindset of war against those occupying your kingdom and so persuade the Council. However, your majesty, doing so would be effortful and over-costly on too many avenues, not least discussions with other nearby human colonies; it would be an overreach of my authority as High Priest of Strength; and moreover, it would be a gross violation of the Family’s principles.’

‘A gross violation!’ she cried dramatically, practically false-fainting in her chair. ‘It isn’t considered gross that those, those, [i]invasive humans[/i] would dare slaughter our people like chattel!’ He was quite glad she at least took the courtesy of meeting him privately rather than publicly - his sanctum was not too decorated, certainly more ascetic than the temple proper, of red and grey cloth representing blood and people as it had long before even the arrival of the little dragons. Moreover, it was well away from prying eyes and over-sensitive ears.

‘We... do not approve of their attacks, if they are indeed unprovoked,’ he stated, raising a hand to keep her from continuing her rant, ‘but it has never been our way to fight when other options are available. If a misunderstanding was reached, then a diplomatic solution would be far more helpful, for your people and for mine. I ask you again to consider: if we sent an invasion force, limited as our naval capacity is, their magics, or weapons, or whatever forces they bring to bear, could easily destroy your capital outright, long before we could help. How many more elves would perish, consequently?’

‘Too-! Ahem. Too many.’

‘Indeed, your majesty. But a smaller team, a few indajah Priests and a number of kobolds and the finest elven diplomats you can offer, could approach them peaceably, and set out suitable... what’s the word, payback? Repayment? Forgive me, my mind is not the trap it used to be, but you know well that is the course we have been pursuing.’ Age was a terrible thing. Physically, Pema Faham was as fit and strong as he’d ever been in his youth, if rather more wrinkled, courtesy of Brother Strength. Mentally, though, he knew he was degrading somewhat. It was natural, but it was not welcome per se.

‘Ah, I see what you mean,’ the Queen stated sagely, nodding as if she’d known all along even as she gesticulated her apparent understanding. ‘You’ve sent these diplomats in, they’ll engage in these peace talks... and when the leaders have their guard down, the assassinations will happen, and we’ll strike whilst the humans are in chaos.’

Now Pema Faham lost his composure, even if it was as simple as burying his face in his hands and allowing a faint, trumpeting sigh to escape him. ‘No, your majesty,’ he corrected, looking down at her sternly, once more struck by how incredibly extravagant her outfit was. A dress of blue silks and bright gemstones clung to a lightly-tanned frame, far more restrictive than might be considered reasonable for ruling purposes, let alone sailing purposes. But then, her people were accomplished sailors... ‘They’ll engage in peace talks to come to an [i]agreement,[/i] one that can be approved by all sides. The humans who have invaded you may choose to accept or decline the terms, and if the talks break down and they refuse all terms, then perhaps you may sway the Ruling Council or myself on the matter of counter-invasion. Until then,’ he concluded, ‘it is out of my hands.’

‘Hmph. Strength, indeed,’ Leinani scoffed, her arms folded. Ever so gently, Pema rested one hand on her shoulder in compassion, dainty as it was; she immediately shrugged him off and stood to leave, but he hoped the point to come would be clear.

‘Strength comes in many forms,’ he offered, his tone a balm of sorts. ‘The strength to fight is but one aspect; strength of heart is another, as is the strength to forgive one’s enemies for their failings.’

‘Psh. I cannot forgive my kin’s murder.’ And that was the crux, ultimately, the High Priest reckoned as Queen Leinani strode out in her strange and semi-ethereal fashion. Her child had passed, undeniably at the hands of La Flotille Atlantique; she, her husband the King, and in a way her whole nation grieved for him still. It was the impenetrable scale, as kobolds often said, the single issue they wouldn’t strike around - and it had to be factored into any and all such talks. He could only hope the envoys sent would find a way to render all parties suitably appeased on their side, and that the offended parties would eventually accept on his.