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Quiet filled the space of the room as a single candle flickered, casting dim orange lights against the shadows. Placing a paw on his head, the tan furred male rubbed his forehead as if to brush off dust from the bleached white bones that formed the plates on his face. His tail moved slowly, only swaying left to right a small bit, a soft brushing sound emenating from it rubbing against the legs of the canine as he gazed up out of his window to the clouded skies that shielded his eyes from the twin moons above. Letting out a gentle sigh, he smiled and leaned against the sill, arms outstretched. As the clouds above gave way, the light from the moons cast down and shrouded the ground with shadows from the trees outlining the city, reflecting off of the dual slit pupils of his eyes in a pale and ghostly aura. He turned from the window after a long moment and sat upon his bed, looking to the other figure in the room. Another male with fur of a darker shade, facial plates catching the moonlight and giving a near glow in the darkened room. He cast a hidden smile to the other across from him and spoke in a reminiscent, semi-northern tone.

"Do you imagine nights were this peaceful back when our ancestors were alive, friend?"

"Perhaps, at one point." the tanned wolf replied, his tone more uncertain but of the same acsent. "Who can really say how many nights like these our clans saw back in the day, what with the persistant conflicts they fought."

"Haha, yeah I guess you'd be right on that one. Hard to imagine it ever happened now, just looking at the landscape makes me think our lands have stayed relatively quiet all around."

"Oh I wish that were so, old friend. By my plates, I wish these forests had never tasted the warmth of fresh blood. But, from what my clan's history tells me, things weren't always so good for the people of our province."

"That so? What perchance do your kin say about Retsana's history? I'm always up for a good tale of from the ancestors."

"Hehe, I'm glad to hear it. Though, if I'm going to tell you the whole story, it's going to take a little while. Best sit down and get cozy." The tan furred wolf tossed his friend a small flask, which upon opening carried a mellow aroma to it. As the dark furred wolf sat down in a desk chair and adjusted so he wasn't sitting on his own tail, he reclined back and took a quick swig from the flask, nodding to his host with ears perked up so he didn't miss a detail.

The one on the bed smiled and looked up at the ceiling as the candlelight danced about, closing his eyes to recall the words of his elders from when he was but a pup.

"Back when my grandfather's grandfather's father was coming of age, the populace of our homeland was tense. The province had been declared independant from the rest of the mainland, as trading was so good they could afford to pay for its autonomy. As of yet, however, it had no true leadership to guide it. Retsana had been placed under the supervision of an aging plated man from the clan Trovis, by the name of Selvas. He was of average stature, with his fur starting to white from passing years. His claws had become dulled but his mind was sharp enough that he was not fooled very easily, his armor, heavy iron adorned with a thick, blue and white trimmed cape marked with his own clan's insignia, never far from his own chambers. While not geared for battle, he wore robes of identical color pattern, a simple copper circlet around his head, signifying his own authority. Along with a legion gifted to him by his father who was once a prominent commander, Selvas watched the province from his manor atop the hills overlooking the Vra' Lin basin from which the Etrin River ran southwest into the Stait of Renn. Atop the stone walls and towers, the banner of the Trovis Clan hung proudly. From his keep, Selvas managed the people who came to him with all manner of concerns, both mundane and concerning, his legion remaining based near the manor. One evening, during the late of Second Setting, a man came before Trovis' court, a cool air about him. His fur was ash-blonde, clad in a chain maille vest and steel armor decorated with his own clan's markings, tinted deep green with bronze in-lay. He knelt before Selvas and bowed his head deeply, speaking in a tone both serious and imploring.

"Overseer Selvas of Clan Trovis, I thank you for granting me an audience on this evening. I come before you to discuss a matter most serious." Selvas looked down from his seat atop several steps, overlooking the great hall, twin feasting tables on either side of the room lit by candlesticks lining their lengths. Selvas leaned forward in his great wooden chair and nodded to his visitor.

"You are welcome here, my friend. Tell me, what clan do you

hail from?"

"I am born of the Pavok Clan, named Turin after my father. I come before you now to ask for your assistance in the matter of rulership of our great land."

"Indeed? Hmmm... very well, speak."

"Thank you, sir. As you know, with the province now independant, and yet lacking any effective leadership that can unify the people, there are many who would declare themselves rulers based purely on social status among their own settlements. Some have even begun to construct their own keeps. Sir, if this trend continues, the only possible result will be open war."

"I see. If what you say is true, then perhaps you are correct, young one. But what do you seek to do about these events? I suspect you have a plan in mind, as none have come forward about this issue before you."

"Sir, with your humble permission, I respectfully would take command of your legion and lead a campaign to pacify those who would declare themselves rulers before they have a chance to do any true harm. With your men, we could quash these insurrectionists and destroy them before it's too late." As Turin looked up at the Overseer, a young maiden, dressed in scholars robes ran into the hall, carrying an array of scrolls and tomes in her paws, barely keeping them from falling on the floor from the sheer number of them she carried in her arms. Her fur was grey and eyes the color of water on a clear night, plates only just visible under her hood as she frantically stumbled about. Panting lightly, she placed a hand on Selvas' shoulder and wispered softly into his triangular ear, glancing back and forth between him and Turin who watched her suspisciously. Selvas looked to her and nodded, sending her back on her way into the corridors of the manor, turning his attention back to Turin, a knowing and unappealing look about his face.

"My steward, Verris, tells me that you are the son of one who was a former commander of some repute. She's told me that in his day, your father was known to have valued strength and obedience, and expected the same from his subordinates. Does she speak the truth, young Pravok?"

"I will not deny that this is tue. My father was a commander in service to one of the foreign rulers, yes. But I do not see what difference this-"

"This makes all the difference. I know of this man, and of his deeds. I am aware that he was known for his ruthless and merciless nature on the battlefield. In my days with the courts of the inner continent, I heard of how his son was being bred to take his place once he retired. And so you come before me now, to ask for my martial strength? I will not lend my force to one who would seek to prevent bloodshed through swift oppression and violence. I will not turn a blind eye to the events beyond this manor, but I will not be privvy to an act of war such as that which you seek. Now, be gone from my home, young one. Your request is denied and your welcome is worn. Leave me, or experience my guards' hospitality." Selvas glared at Turin sternly as he looked down at him, casting a look that spoke the severity of his words on their own. Turin could only match his stare and let a faint growl pass through his lips, looking away with indignation and forcing a nod of resignation, turning on his heel and slowly walking to the door, fists clenched so tight that a small trickle of blood dripped from one of his paws. Before leaving, he turned to Selvas one last time and gave a stern look, one that could never spell good tidings for the one who the gaze fell upon.

"Know this, Overseer, you have made a great error this evening by refusing my request. Clan Pavok is strong and has never been kind to those who do not share our goals! Mark me well, your banner shall not fly over the heads of your legion for long!" He spoke with a cool rage, barely controlled and shaking his body with indignation and fury. With a firm slam, the door shut and the hall of the manor rang for a moment with the echo. Then, it was again quiet. Verris poked her head around a corner, her furry ears perked up as she nervously approached Selvas, tail twitching slightly.

"Is everything all right, sir? I overheard your guest and the loud slamming from the door, so I..."

"Everything is alright, my dear. Nothing to worry about, I assure you. Our guest sought that which I could not give him and didn't seem to accept this fact well." Selvas gave the young woman a gentle pat on the head and a warm smile, then sent her off to perform her duties, a forced smile upon his lips. He leaned back in his chair and planted his face in his paw in worry. While he had been able to deny Turin a chance for the supposed glory and strength he sought, the air felt a cool change to it, making Selvas' fur stand on edge. A storm was indeed coming, he thought as he began to contemplate his response to what his visitor had said. One thing was for sure, he'd be keeping his men on alert from now on. Evening turned into night, and the skies were moonless...