Standing in the shadows before morning, in the still very damp morning dew, Turgal muttered to himself while waiting for his men to arrive. Why couldn’t I have been born into one of the other families? The warrior’s life was not something that the son of Kulton had ever wanted, yet it had been forced upon him solely because of his families “gifts”. The Defel would have much preferred to be reading a scroll, or maybe exploring math or science. This made him appear “apathetic” to his father, who had never understood what could be gained from such pursuits. No, his father was the warrior everyone had expected out of Turgal. Instead he was considered a failure in many respects. Everyone knew he wasn’t the strongest gifted in his family anyway, which only compounded the issue. If only he could have been second born, or maybe a female who were allowed their “frivolous” pursuits.

The men started trickling in, their wooden spears and shields ready for action. This was a situation where their stealth would not be the greatest asset, but never let it be said that his people did not know how to fight. Even one as apathetic as himself.

One of the Defel approached him, this one’s coloring a vibrant yellow to those who could see in the appropriate wavelengths, “Sir, all accounted for and we’re ready to move out.” He stood stiffly, at attention simply waiting for the order to go.

Looking the soldiers over he sighed again. Still, his desire to not be there was no reason to take anything out on the troops. And he did have something that needed to be said, supposedly. “You all know where we’re going and why. The Praex need our protection, and our own people are risking their lives for that even as we speak. Without reinforcements they will all be dead. So we march. By midday we will be at Pratora, which is also one of our main farming communities. You all know you’re duties, and I expect you to perform them to the utmost of your abilities.” With that he nodded to the Moldan (sergeant rank). “Move out.”

Normally he would have been the first one into the forest shadows, but something held him back today. For some reason he wanted to burn things into his memory, the smell of the town, the way the sun was glinting off of the three Families palaces, the great hall where the thrones were located. The throne that he knew would never be occupied by himself. Also the people, the golden furred Praex and the vibrantly colored Shodaire.

Shaking his head, he followed the last of his men into the shadows. It was time to hunt.

Normally none of the God Kings would have been seen in the market but today was different. As had been specified generations ago, before the sun reached it's zenith was the God Kings personal time unless there was an emergency. From that time til the evening meal was spent on the needs of the state, and then whatever else needed to be attended to.

Deimos considered the arrangement for a moment, and decided it was pretty satisfactory. It meant one could sleep as late as was desired, and it only cut into the time spent on one's own amusement. Or betterment as was normally the case for Deimos. It was betterment that had brought him to the marketplace today, for he had received a message that a merchant from the Magnifica had arrived and setup their wears in the square. Odds were that they would be swamped later on in the day, but it was still early enough that most of the Praex Shodaire would still be breaking their fast.

Nearing the square he saw that most of the merchants of his own clan had yet to arrive, which only confirmed that this was the time to show up. Absently Deimos wondered what the beings from the other clan would think of the city of Traex. Surely it wasw nowhere near as spectacular as the other clan's home, but the paths were paved with stone quarried from the nearby mountains and many of the buildings were built either of wood from the forest or from the quarried stone. Of course that was the Shodaire parts of the city, as the Praex preferred to build their houses out of mud and rushes for the ceilings. Some had taken to the Defel's way's of building but they were few and far between. Callu was one of the latter.

There were also trees and grass defining where the paths were and where was a good place to take a break and relax for the midday meal.

Approaching the stall that the Magnifica had set up Deimos looked over the pink and nearly fur-less being that stood there. Robed (as were the Praex) in some cloth covering, he also wore something that covered his feet. Deimos knew that he, and the large bodyguards that were utterly fur-less, would see him as nothing but a shadow where there was nothing to cast it.

The merchant apparently did not really notice him as Deimos had approached in the shadows of the trees rather than walking along one of the paths. "Good day." Deimos sort of "appeared" before the merchant and bowed slightly. "I wish you good deals this day." He smiled what he hoped was pleasantly, but no matter what any of his species did would appear as nothing but a white gash in the shadow.

All three of the beings jumped slightly, the burly tailed beings (Twi-lek or some such name) nearly resting a hand on their weapons. The merchant recovered quickly and smiled obsequiously. "Hail good sir, my name is Damian. What deal might I be able to do for you today?" His hands spread in a gesture of sincerity and openness.

Looking over the displayed wares Deimos considered, there was little there to interest him. He had been hoping for a weapon (something that his people could replicate) or maybe something that would help his kingdom. Alas there appeared to be nothing. "I'm sorry good sir, but there is nothing here to interest one such as me." Sighing softly the God King started to turn away, ready go begin his morning training.

Quizzically the merchant cocked his head. "If I may be so bold, what kind of being am I dealing with? I'm sure I can find something that would intrigue you." Here he gestured back to his wagon as though there were treasures in there that were not for the common being.

Always something held back. Merchants grow predictable after a while. Turning back, a smile that only touched his lips rather than parting them on his face, "What would you have to offer to one of the rulers of the Praex Shodaire? For you speak to Deimos Odai, God King of the Odai family." His voice was syrupy and his words were overly eloquent, which was another thing about dealing with people from other clans that bothered him. He always had to appear more sophisticated than those he was interacting with.

Eyes widening the Merchant bowed vastly deeper than Deimos had to him. "Sir, I would be most happy to show you the wares brought specifically for you and your fellows. We come bearing weapons, wooden blades, which I would be most pleased to show you, as well as a picture that shows the locations of the area including locations of all of the clans that are considered civilized. Would either of these interest you?" Motioning to wone of the guards, the Twi-lek brought the aforementioned items out and laid them on the table,

Deimos first looked at the sword, picking it up he considered how it would be wielded. Noting the considering look one of the guards was instructed to show the God King how to use it. After several moments of instruction Deimos decided it was well worth purchasing. "How many of these did you bring with you Damien? Sufficient to outfit a group of soldiers?" Deimos laid the weapon back down on the table, as he could already tell it was a significant upgrade over their spears and could be carried alongside them with little difficulty.

Smiling, "Sufficient for an honor guard for each of your rulers, sire." Here Damien motioned towards the map. "I can explain it for you if need be." The merchant unrolled the scroll and laid it out on the table.

Looking it over Deimos knew the basics of cartography, but not knowing what marks represented what he couldn't precisely decipher it. "Please." And so went the explanation, Damien instructing Deimos in reading the map and where each of the civilized clans were located.

Rubbing his chin, Deimos considered. Now that he had the knowledge he could very well make a rough version of this himself, but that would not be honorable. "Yes, I believe we will purchase one of these as well. Now let's discuss price..." Here the merchant smiled and Deimos knew he would have to fight for a fair deal.

***
Some Time Later

Deimos took one of the swords back with him, along with the map. Both would be shown to his fellow rulers as he had spent not his personal wealth but the stores of the kingdom on these items. So it was only fitting that they should all share in their use. Smiling Deimos hummed on his way back home. This was going to be a good day.

As usual, when Maghr awoke the sun was well up and well on it's way to the zenith of it's path across the sky. Grumbling about the light coming in the window he covered his eyes and tried to sort his thoughts. What needed to be done today? Was there anything he had forgotten or just given up on the previous night? Oh... Feth. I have to do THAT today. That was make a speech to the a gathering about the qualities of Logair. Why couldn't I have shoved that off on someone else? The answer was obvious, because he was the ruler blessed by said God. It was only fitting that he should speak about Logair and encourage others in his worship. Needless to say, the ruse he had lived with for more than a century was getting tiresome. Very tiresome, but it simply was not yet time to move beyond it. Veldeer was still quite reviled, and it would not do to lose his influence with the populace.

Throwing his covers off Maghr decided he had lazed about plenty long enough, regardless of how late a night it had been. It always was for him, ever since his wife had died. Ever since Veldeer demanded... Well that was a thought better left for another day. Helleer had made him very happy, but that was the past. In the past it should stay.

Rolling off of the bed, still wincing at the light, he walked over to the chamberpot and did his business. I also have to sit in ruling with the others today, there was a merchant who came in last night that needs to be visited, and Hurldan alone knows what else. While his family didn't specifically worship the other gods it was well known that they existed. The powers of the other two families was proof of that. Just as the lack of any of the Praex having powers was proof of the weakness of Logair. In Maghr's personal opinion, one shared by many of his family, the golden furred weaklings were of little more use than slaves. If you weren't willing to fight for your freedom or life then why should you be allowed to have either? At our expense too. Worthless freeloaders.

Heading over to his desk, and the scrolls that littered it, he called for his son, who was also his assistant and heir designate. Roldar Nedjam entered, obviously having been working just outside. Unlike his father Roldar still was able to get up early after a long night, and in some instance's never bothered to sleep. He was an odd color for any of the Shodaire, a deep, bruise colored purple and it always caused Maghr to shudder slightly upon seeing him. There was something off about the younger Defel, but no one had ever found what. No matter, it would reveal itself in time if it was supposed to.

In Roldar's hand there were several scrolls, obviously new things that would need to be dealt with in due course. "Just put them on the right side of the desk. I'll get to them later." He absently waved a hand in the indicated direction. There was also a bowl of fruit in the other, which was automatically placed on the left side of the desk, the same as every other morning.

Roldar inclined his head, silently laid the scrolls down, and waited to be spoken to again. That was another thing about his son that bothered Maghr, he never spoke unless it was necessary. Ever. Everyone knew he was highly intelligent, potentially more so than any other Shodaire in the city, but he almost never shared that intelligence. Something had made him extremely reserved, and Maghr was damned if he had a clue what it was.

Picking up his flint knife, Maghr started slicing off bits of fruit and eating them. "Has my speech on Logair been finished yet? I'll need it in under two hours." At Roldar's nod the God King relaxed. Today wouldn't be too awful, especially after that was done. While Maghr whished he could delegate more of the administrative duties his family had undertaken for generations, there were somethings that simply could not be dealt with by an underling. For some reason they seemed to grow with every passing day, almost like weeds in a garden that couldn't be pulled for damaging the flowers.

After finishing his breakfast, "Go and fetch my speech. I want to go over it one last time before I leave." Roldar bowed and went to go get it, leaving Magrh to shake his head in silence. Why couldn't he have taken more after his mother? She knew how to hold a conversation, and was a large part of how I learned. Things will be rough for him when he takes the throne.

Accepting the scroll from the returning Roldar, "You may go. I will speak with you upon my return." His head was already bowed as he poured over the text that had to pass as a God King's words on his respective deity. Why they were supposed to know more about said deities than anyone else Maghr didn't know, but he wished he could go back in time and spit him over a fire for making it so.

Morning was not really Callu's favorite time of the day, but it was the most productive. There was always varied amounts of paperwork to deal with, as well as other things that she had to go and oversee depending upon what day it was, and then every afternoon she was required in court by the God Kings for advice on her people and other things in general. Oddly she had even managed to garner some little amount of influence and power for herself, which was the last thing a musician could have ever expected. She had her relationship with Deimos to think for that, which had actually changed from that of musician and monarch to something a bit more. Something that had to remain hidden, as much as it pained her.

Silently she glanced over at something that he had given her, a new harp that he had personally had a hand in making. The sound wasn't quite what it could have been, but the sentiment of it was something she cherished in the extreme. That he had taken the time out of his busy schedule to make something for someone who was a member of what was generally considered second class citizens was practically unheard of. If only her people weren't so pacifistic, but she understood the stand that they had taken long ago. And it was true, she absolutely abhorred violence, but Callu still understood the need for it in some instances. When her people had nearly been wiped out was a perfect example of this.

While the Praex weren't slaves, they weren't viewed as equals by the greater Shodaire population. That was something that Callu had spent the last eight years trying to understand, and change. The understanding had come slowly, but the change was non-existent. When someone knew they could hurt you and yet you would do nothing about it, well the person causing the pain generally did not care about why you allowed it, just that it made you prey. And in a world full of sentient hunters being prey was not a very healthy stance to take. Her people had been kidnapped as slaves, enough of them left to survive so they could be enslaved again after they had recovered. That was what the lizard monsters had been doing when the Shodaire had arrived and saved her people. While she knew they were honorable, she did not like being looked down upon.

Sighing softly, Callu shook her head. Change seemed like it would never come. It seemed as though the status quo had been ingrained into both clan's culture's and that it simply would not be dislodged no matter what. All it would take was one person really, one regular person who was willing to change they way they saw things, to do something different, and show others that it was better. But that person had not appeared and even though Callu had prayed to Logaire and Hurldan for this change or some idea of what to do there had been no response. Maybe the Shodaire are right, and only their Kings can speak to the Gods? It's certainly true that none of my people have been blessed in the same way. I can't understand it, why would the God of Peace bless a warlike clan? It makes no sense. That was something her predecessors had pondered, and it was likely something her replacement would wonder about as well. There were writings on the subject, mainly private journals of the previous Praetor's that were passed on from one the next, and were full of knowledge. She was certainly thankful for them and the knowledge and wisdom that was contained within those scrolls. Hopefully she would be able to have such an effect on those to follow in her footsteps.