Faucheur

“The Veilspun have broken the treaty. They have increased their numbers from my people without their consent. They have no regard for our claim to this land and insist on a ridiculous tale that they were in this territory first, that somehow our magics did not detect them before they were ready to reveal themselves. Impossible. For the good of our kind, they must be exterminated,” the queen of the Fae intoned. “Will you help us?”

Faucheur shook his large head in negation. “No.”

“No?” the queen replied, seeming shocked despite her even tone and attempt to keep her frills motionless. “Will nothing persuade you to join our cause? This is for the good of us all.”

“This is not our fight. It is up to the Fae and the Veilspun to reach a permanent resolution to this conflict. My cadre is of the most ancient of dragon blood. Our parents were formed by the hand of the Lightweaver herself at the dawn of the creation of dragonkind. We came to these lands because they have a reputation for seclusion and privacy. We, along with the Coatls, Obelisks, and a small number of those who do not wish to participate will protect this territory from outside interference. Two factions devoted to war will not have the resources to fend off intruders who wish to end you both and take this land for themselves. This is my offer. Take it or leave it,” the massive Imperial said with finality.

“Very well,” the queen replied, nodding slightly with acquiescence that did not quite seem to reach her eyes.

Faucheur noted that the queen’s reply seemed insincere. He subtly changed his stance to one bordering on aggression, keeping eye contact with the queen. When she looked down, he turned and walked away. Subjugation of the members of his coalition was simply not an option, and he departed certain that he made his stance known.