“Of course I have seen trees like this,” thundered Ambassador Reesir Toppe, who was as usual using a voice that carried to all the other wagons in the caravan. The ambassador was nominally addressing the shifter sitting atop the wagon with him, a female named Gleaning who was a highly-placed officer in the Wardens of the Wood, but he always made sure everyone could hear him. “I have looked down at them from the towers in Sharn. People on the lower levels grow them in gardens.”
“Everything seems to be in Sharn,” Gleaning said sarcastically.
Ambassador Toppe either ignored her sarcasm or he didn’t catch it. “Yes indeed, everything except this beastly cold weather than you have here! This gatekeeper that I need to speak to would do well to live in Varna, which at least has paved roads!”
“This is cold?” an Orien driver asked on the seat below them.
“Only because its not paved, apparently,” said his partner.
“I was under the impression that Orien trade roads were uniform in every country,” said the goblin footman that accompanied the ambassador. No one remembered his name, for he almost never spoke.
“Now we in Breland are glad that you Reachers have seen the advantage of working with us against the things that have taken over the Droaam province,” the ambassador was saying, oblivious to the implied criticism around him. “We work jointly against the monsters, and also against the Aundairians!” He began to gesticulate as he discussed the war, his bright blue sleeves flapping in the wind. Gleaning had never seen anyone other than a Brelander wear that annoying shade of blue. “The war that these monarchies love to stir up must end, and it is fitting that we in Breland, the greatest country that ever was in history, ally ourselves with those who understand something of democracy, as you Reachers seem to do!”
Gleaning gritted her pointed teeth and fought off an urge to shift her claws out to their full length. The stupid human in blue had said the same thing to her countless times in the long, long ride from Redleaf. Hers was not a race known for its patience, and if not for the fact that it would definitely turn the border with Breland hot again, she would have challenged the loudmouth sitting next to her to a duel long ago. Why do we need to come all the way to Merylsward? Gleaning grumbled in her mind, and not for the first time. The gatekeeper sect was free to operate in the Eldeen Reaches, but they were not part of Oalian’s governing body as the other groups were. Even the deranged Children of Winter acknowledged the greatpine as the leader of the Reaches, but the snooty gatekeepers, with their main attention in the Shadow Marches, somehow managed to get audience with Oalian whenever they wanted it. Both Oalian and the King of Breland wanted to coordinate something with the gatekeepers, so Gleaning got to babysit this loudmouth. And for some reason, the gatekeeper was at the other end of the Reaches.
“Have I ever told you what Beggar Dane says about trees?” the ambassador asked her.
“Yes!” Gleaning snarled between clenched teeth. Her nails twitched.
He proceeded to tell her anyway. At length. When they finally saw the first marker for Merylsward she felt like cheering.
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