The Dead seek the Unite Tribes of Refuge


Stepping off of the train the Herald of Wintermute makes an odd sight. Standing not so tall at 5 feet 6 inches tall, he wears a long hooded robe colored dark purple with silver trim. The Herald’s face is covered by a silver mask portraying an Earther face with a somber expression. The Herald wears gloves and high boots, his clothing reveals nothing about what lay behind it. The Herald asks one of the workers at the station where the nearest base of the United Tribes of Refuge and approaches it. Once the Herald is at the base the Herald shall say with a hollow echoing voice.

“The United Tribes of Refuge shall heed the words of the Herald of Wintermute! You declare yourselves to be a nation, we wish to see your nation with our own eyes and see your quality! Is there anyone to speak on your behalf and show the Herald that you are an a nation worthy of respect?”


Shirley was fuming. Rumors of another tribe being swallowed up by Malak’tor had her fuming. Then she saw a strange Earther approach her. He was small, and puny, and spoke really loudly. Then he made all sorts of demands. Plus, she had no idea what he was talking about.

The overly large, muscle-bound, Olgog was wearing Armorfiend Plate armor, her hands wrapped in a strange cloth, with a cloth sack at her side and a hob’tor axe at her side. She approached the Earther with determination and purpose. Normally, she would have laughed at the stranger’s words, but today she was not in the mood.

“I’m Shirley, council member for the United Tribes of Der’al, representin’ the Great Northern Army and the Gang of the Uf Mag’og. Who the hell is Wintermute and why should we give a kolgul’s ass about you?”


Turning to face the armored Olgog who towered over the Herald, the Herald responded in the hollow echoing voice of before. The voice is void of emotion. The Herald’s cloak fluttered in the breeze slightly, the mask still as the sunlight glittered off of it.

“I suppose your lack of geographical knowledge is understandable considering things. Wintermute is a nation to the north of the Earther colonies. It is one of the Northern Kingdoms and a member of the Itashi Alliance of Northern Kingdoms. Though we are not representing the Alliance today, simply our own nation. As to why you should give a…kolgul’s(?) ass about me, I am here to see if your nation is truly that. If you are a true nation, and not simply some loud interlopers, we wish to establish an embassy and perhaps trade. We have heard interesting rumors about you, and we wish to see how the native tribes are forming their nation.”


Shirley almost laughed. This Earther knew nothing of Olgog ways, much less Brezan ways. Shirley was tempted to reach into her bag and call Hikiti to handle this, but she had no patience to deal with a “translator.” Besides, Hikiti might drag this out all day.

“I admit, gee-oh-graffy ain’t much my thing. Don’ care much either. You’re north of the EEF an’ therrforr ya’re therr problem. But I don’ understan’ wat yer expe’tin ta see. Nations are tha thangs of Earthers, so ya ain’ gonna find that ‘ere. We ain’t got no embsasis either. If ya wan’ ta trade, come wit a caravan and den we can talk. Otherwise, yer jus wastin’ time.”

Shirley hoped this would make the foreigner go away. She didn’t like the sound of him. Plus he was goading her, which would only end badly for everyone. She stood perfectly still, waiting for his response.


The Herald continued to stare at Shirley “So the United Tribes of Refuge isn’t a nation? If you would be so kind, please explain what it is then? You say that you are a council member of the UTR, what is it, if not a nation?” The Herald turns and gazes north for a few moments before turning back to Shirley
"As for the EEF, we have an agreement with them, they leave us alone, we leave them alone. Earther military groups tend to be twitchy we have found, perhaps it is because they are such a shorted lived species.


Shirley shrugged. This fellow isn’t Earther. Good to know.

“Do the K’iorn call themselves a nation? Do the K’iou call themselves a nation? What about the other races of Der’al?”


The Herald’s head titled to the side slightly "S’vana I believe is a nation of the K’iorn, I believe you are simply playing with words. You have territory, you have a government which makes rules for this territory. You have a people whom you look after, you are a nation, even if you do not use that particular word for it. Wintermute is a Kingdom but our leader prefers to use the title Lord rather then King, Personal preference. Each government chooses how they would be referred to, the Earther Colonies are each independent technically, but they generally follow the lead of the Colonial General for major decisions, a loose Federation with a common army.

I believe your government would recognize the benefit of a steady trading partner in the long run. After all, trading one convoy at a time, you do not get a sense of permanency, the people you trade with will always worry if your UTR will last. With steady treaties, and trade agreements individuals gain confidence in the longevity of your government. Plus with trade comes citizens of each kingdom/tribe visiting the other location, tourism can also benefit both sides. Isolationism always harms a nation in the long run, the spreading of ideas and culture brings benefits to all. After all, what harm comes from the spread of understanding? Ignorance causes people to hate what they do not understand, and that is something I believe you comprehend perfectly."

(Sorry for not mentioning this earlier, but the Herald would always be using Translate while talking so there would be no language barrier)


Shirley pretended to pay attention, but lost track of what the diplomat had said after the first sentence. She sucked at this and hated that she was stuck doing this instead of killing Maklal’tor gangers. She sighed when he was done. She didn’t believe a word he said, at least the words she bothered paying attention to. If you want to trade, you bring things, say you want to trade, and find a way to make it permanent. For Brezans, you trade your weakest gangers to seal the deal. This conversation was nothing like that. Who starts off trade negotiations by trying to compare you to an interloper and questioning your validity?

“Thanks fer da lessen. Informative. Still don’ apply to us. Wat you call folk matters ta us. How ya talk to us matters. Wat ya bring to da game, matters. Since da moment ya start to talk ya been doin’ it all wrong. I have los’ my pay-shence. I don’ know how diplomats from yer part of Der’al start neg-oooh- shay-shons, but thas not how we do it ‘ere. Herald of Wintermute, yer attempts have failed. Go home, tell yer Lord ya failed. Nex time, come with goods for trade an’ a differn’ at-ta-tude. As of now, I don’ trus’ ya, yer words, yer speech, an yer ‘ntenshons. We arr’ not isolated, an’ we’re not pups wet behind da ears. Come back wit respec’, actin’ like yer a ‘umble gues’, cuz ya are.”

Shirley motions to her fellow gangers to surround the Herald of Wintermute. 10 Gangers surround the Herald on three sides. The only open route is toward the train station.

“They’ll take ya back ta da train. Won’ hurt ya either, unless ya try to ‘scape. Bett’r luck nex’ time.”


The Herald looked at the surrounding Olgogs “Are you threatening me Shirley?” the hollow voice grew several shades colder.


Shirley had already turned away and was distracted when the Herald of Wintermute responded. Skoolz, a grizzled elder that had seen his fair share of gang warfare, with a sliced voice box that gave him an extra nasal sound to his voice, chuckled at the situation. He knew Shirley well enough to know that she wasn’t going to respond.

“Nah, she ain’t threaten’ ya. She had no patience for it. Either she do it, or she don’ do it. And right now, she’s ain’t.”


The Herald turns toward the elder “I suppose one of your rival tribes might receive me with more interest, I just arrived here I wish to see more.” Falling into his shadow and popping up beyond the surrounding Olgogs “I see that your United tribes do not want further friends, it would be sad to make enemies. Perhaps in the future you will be more careful around foreign envoys, wars have started over less. You are fortunate that I no longer posses such emotions.” With that the Herald will walk off in search of tribes that are against the United tribes of Refuge to gauge their strength and desires. If any Olgogs attempted to stop them they would find a wall of shadows between them and the Herald, and if any got too close he would shadow walk away. He would preform no attacks unless attacked first.


(OOC - if you asked to be brought to me, you’d be dead smack in the middle of my territory. Brez is effectively split into 3. You’d have to go a long way to find a rival gang.)

Skoolz chuckled again. He nodded to Gooberz, a standard tribal who got stuck in patrol and was none too happy about it. And now he has to deal with a messenger who doesn’t know when he’s no longer wanted. At Skoolz’s prompt, he immediately activates Shed Light, destroying all nearby shadows. At first, nobody beyond the 10 guards notice. Until other nearby ur rhug notice they have no shadows. They all look up, and see the cause of the action, and are on alert.

Skoolz amusingly states, “Yer going the wrong way. Ain’t no rival gangs in that direction. Keep goin’ that way an’ my brothers will think you wanna attack us. It would be you threat’nen us, not the other way around.” He points to the train station. “You gotta pass the station,” he waves his pointed finger, as if to indicate going over, “an’ keep goin’ to find our rivals.” He puts his arm down. “Careful, tho. There be war in the street o’er there! Brez ain’t too safe beyond our terr’tory. We’ll escort ya to the border of our terr’tory if you don’ wanna leave on a train. But you can’t walk alone. Standard practice among our folk.”

(OOC - if you wish to do anything other than be escorted to either to the train station or to the border of my territory, please ask for narrator intervention before you do so).


(Asked to see the UTR, could have been any of the leadership, as both you and Lalder have lands here now)

The Herald turns “No walking alone huh? Fine then” The Herald’s hands go inside the robes and pulls out a duffel bag. Unzipping it a dozen forms leap out of it, each one dressed in the same robes and silver masks. However the masks show varied races with only one common trait, each have a pair of elongated fangs. Around each of the eyes are painted black and the fangs are painted red. They take up positions around the Herald. The Herald continues “These are members of the Twilight Guard of Wintermute, junior members it is true, but all most gain experience somehow. Do not hinder me Olgog. If I wish to move around the city I shall. If I wish to view other parts of these lands then I shall.” Turning toward Skools the Herald takes off his mask, a Skeletal face greets him, his eyes glowing with a purple radiance. "I won’t be in any danger, If raiders or bandits block my way they shall die and serve in a more useful function in death. You had a chance to be diplomatic, if you could not understand that concept then you could have gotten another member of the UTR who could be diplomatic. Instead your friend decided to throw his weight around in his ignorance.

I will give you a final chance to show me to someone else to speak to. Perhaps this lalder fellow I have heard of, maybe he will understand better then you."


Rubbah was minding his own business as he walked through Brez. These were good times for him. The new boss was easy. He got to beat up on Ur Rhug when he needed, but there was none of that hatred that used to exist under his old boss. He was happy he left his old boss and joined the Great Northern Army. He and Skoolz came over together, and life was good for the both of them. He got laid this morning, so he felt extra good as he walked down the street. Then, out of nowhere, his shadow disappeared.

At first, he was confused. When he snapped out of his daydreams, he looked up and saw that he was not alone in his confusion. Then they all at once saw a scene unfold before them. A strange robed figure pulled 12 other stange robed figures out. They looked ugly. He’s seen uglier, but they were ugly. One of them was talking to his buddy, Skoolz. Skoolz did not look happy.

“Yo! Skoolz, Wat the &*^%$ is goin’ on here?!”

Skoolz kept calm. “Rubbah, ya got the worse timin’!”

Rubbah was confused. Timing? Was that why he didn’t have a shadow?? He looked up to the sky, knowing it was daytime and that he should have a shadow. “What’s goin’ on?!”

Skoolz responsed, “Behol’ the Herald of Wintermute and his Twilight Guard. They ask’d to speak to da council.” Rubbah nodded, as if it all made sense. Shirley happened. He looked around, Shirley was nowhere to be seen.

Rubbah asked, “Where’s Shirley?”

Somebody in the street answered, “She wen’ off with Grubb.” Most of the men in the crowd shuddered silently. Gooberz, grinned and looked sad at the same time. The women smirked. Shirley’s appetites were notorious. Even Urog seemed worse for the wear after spending time with her. He didn’t seem to mind. She always looked worse than he did, but with a bigger smile. Gooberz would rather be anywhere but here at the moment.

Rubbah continued, “So wat they want?”

Skoolz, impassively responded while trying to keep his cool. Rubbah was his best mate, but dumb as door nails. There was a reason he was called Rubbah. “They want to see another council member or a rival gang.”

Rubbah looked even more confused, “But Shirley’s tha only one here. Tha other council members don’ live in Brez.”

Skoolz sighed, “I know, Rubbah, I know. I wuz 'bout to tell 'em that when ya interrup’ed.”

Rubbah, not understanding the gravity of the situation, continued, “But why they look ready for a fight?”

Skoolz continued, “Because they don’ understan’ how Brez work. Oh, an’ cuz we ignoran’.” Rubbah didn’t like the sound of that. Nobody called him stupid. Except Skoolz… and Vektor… and the boss. And Rapiogna… once. But nobody else.

Skoolz turned over to the Herald. “Ignorance goes both ways.” Urog said that once to him, now sounded like a good time to repeat it. “If ya knew ‘bout us, ya wudn’t be yappin’ like ya are, ya wudn’t ‘ave pulled out a small patrol like ya did, and ya wudda listen’ to me. Ya ain’t allowed to walk through our terr’tory without us. That be the rulez. If ya do, it’s considered an attack. If ya wanna talk to otha rival gangs, then we walk ya to tha border of our lands. We won’t go beyon’ 'em. Roam thru the rest of Brez for all we care. And as Rubbah said, Lalder is in Tla’loc’al. You can take the train to see ‘im if ya like. By tha time ya get there, he’d be expectin’ ya.”

Skoolz stood straight, with conviction, “But since it don’ seem like to us ya be lookin’ to talk much longer. And if it’s a fight ya lookin’ for, well…” He finally smirked, “ya’ve come to the right place. So it be your choice. Either we gets to walkin’,” he points to their intended destination, “or we have ourselves a good ol’ Brezan time.”

Many in the crowd smiled. The rest remained serious and wary. Most crowd members, a variety of ur rhug, vandals, some Gang of Uf Mag’og tribals and citizens all began looking for the nearest object that they could use as a weapon if they didn’t already have one. Many ran out, spreading rumors of an impending fight with undead foreigners who had called Brezans stupid. Being Brezan, they were used to it. Most of the crowd would rather not fight, but everyone in Brez was always ready for a fight. They all looked at the Herald and his guard, waiting for an answer.


Ka’ab, one of the Ur Rhug from Herd of Auf Lal’ al oversaw the matter here in Brez. He was worried that this self important Diplomat was causing a disaster. This Herald did not understand that Brez was a hotbed right now. He knew he needed to get Lalder.

He took his comm crystal out of his vest and said “This is Ka’ab, there is a Fight Brewing in Brez with an outsider. We need an Auf here quickly. I would say that we take this diplomat to Tla’loc’al, but I don’t think we have the time.”

Auf Lalder received Ka’ab’s message. He did not know much of this nation or this diplomat. If the Brezian thought things were bad, he would have to teleport. Lalder took a second of concentration, and shifted himself to the Square where this argument was happening, besides Ka’ab. "

Lalder seemed never to get out of his gear these days. He was wearing his Armorfiend vest and cloak, Carrying his staff with his sword on his back.

Lalder takes out his Staff of Formal Light and Projects his image to the sky above the groups ready to fight.
Lalder says “Enough, Everyone step back. We do not need more fighting this day. There is enough of that going on lately and I have things to do.”

Lalder stops the image projection now that he has everyones attention. lalder continues "

I hear someone is here to talk to the leaders of the UtR. I am Auf Lalder of the Herd of Auf Lal’al, the Lur Union, and Councilgog of the United Tribes of Refuge. Gogs of Gang of the Uf Mag’og, I would like to help here."

Lalder will make his way through the crowd of gogs surrounding the Herald.

(OOC Lalder will expect the olgogs to part for him.)

Lalder says to the Herald "If you were looking for me specifically, I do not tend to stay in Brez, but near Tla’loc’al. And that is also where the council meets. I do not know what has happened here prior to my arrival, but I do ask that all weapons be put away.

The Gogs of Gang of the Ur Mag’og are the calmer of the gogs of Brez, so I do feel it was good you met them than others here. Otherwise I would have been too late. It seems you do not understand us Olgogs very well. We can work on that later, but I do wish to move this conversation to a more private spot, or even out of Brez if the Olgogs here do not want you here."

Lalder recognizing one of the Olgogs, he says “Skoolz, is there a place here we can talk, without the crowd? I can take our guest elsewhere, but I prefer to stay here.”

(OOC not the best post, but I was getting trouble for not cleaning. So I had to do this quickly.)


As Lalder began making his way to the crowd the Herald replaces his mask and gestures to his guard to stand aside. As they never pulled out any weapons they will just stand there and watch the crowds. Then the hollow voice of the Herald is directed toward Lalder
“In the beginning I asked to speak to a representative of your government. I met this councilor (indicating Shirley) who figured that she spoke for your entire government. Normally when an envoy is spoken to so rudely diplomacy tends to end quickly, I however am patient. I was considering looking for your nearest competition and attempt to aid them, however I decided to try to speak to other members of your government before doing so. I had expected that this councilor would contact the other members so that you all would hear me, she did not to my disappointment.”

Looking around at the Olgogs present the Herald continues “It seems that the lack of understanding goes both ways, it took some effort on my part to make sure that this didn’t turn into a bloodbath, it would have been unfortunate for you to arrive to the sight of dozens of your kind dead. If you wish to change the place of the meeting that is fine, I never intended to negotiate on the street. I assumed that when I arrived I would be escorted to where your council met so they could speak to me. If you are the one who makes diplomatic decisions then I will speak to you, it is obvious that this Shirley isn’t the one to make important decisions. We have important matters to discuss, matters that can and will benefit both our countries greatly. I am tired of wasting words on ones who cannot understand larger matters.”

The Herald will follow Lalder to where ever he wishes to have the meeting. The Twilight Guard shall remain around him.


Auf Lalder says "Shirley is a member of the council, and is very wise in her own ways. While she is very blunt, She brings us back to the matter we need to deal with and has very straight forward solutions. And as any of the council members is welcome to be with us and I hope she does. I will ask others to join as well.

The united Tribes of Refuge is a nation of sorts, but not like you earthers. Think of the UtR much as all of the colonies and the EEF. Though we don’t have a military rule. Each area is responsible for most things that are within it. Brez run Brez. Tla’loc’al tribes run Tla’loc’al. Etc… Each does it to their traditions. The council handles matters between areas/tribes and matters outside of our lands, like dealing with outside nations. We also work together to organize our resources to where they are needed. One example is the new farms around brez.

With that, if the Shirley or Urog say you have to have an escort while in Brez, you will have to have an escort. It is their rules here. They are there for your protect as much as theirs."

Lalder will Lead Herald to a place where they can meet. He did not trust this… he wasn’t sure what it was. Lalder tells Ka’ab "Go send messengers to the other councilmen, including Shirley, and tell them where we are meeting. I do not wish to use the chambers yet. We are not that far yet. Also tell Tor’ab and his crew to be here as a guard. This Herald seems to think they are necessary. So we will follow suit. This maybe how they expect things to be.

Auf Lalder says "By the way, the fastest way to start a fight in Brez is saying you could beat or kill anyone. Or saying your going to aid their gor. You made yourself the enemy the first time you suggested that. It does not improve your position, it made it worst. Also I will not have those threats spoken here again. They do no good other than to start trouble. If you wish to aid our gor, you may leave, but never return.

With that said, I would like to discuss to see what our nations and people can do together. There maybe something, there may not be. we will never know if we don’t first talk.

I ask that your guard waits with mine. While in diplomatic discussions, you will not be harmed. If we choose to part ways with no deal, you will be allowed to leave our lands unharmed. This is how we Olgogs handle diplomats.

So while we wait for the others, tell me of you, your People, and of your nation. I am not familiar with them."

(OOC Any Council member or Representative is invite to this thread.)


It was a fine day as Derlur and his merry crew (an olgog, an Earther, a bastard, and a k’iou) walked through Brez, still unable to figure out how to fence the gem they earned. Suddenly, Derlur had heard of the rumors whirling from various olgog that ran by that ugly foreigners had picked a fight with the gang. This, of course, piqued their interest. What made them so ugly?

Deciding that he needed to find out what could make these creatures so ugly, they ran towards the center of commotion. As they approached, a massive image appeared overhead. It appeared to be a Tla’loc’al’an. Conversation was had, and immediately Derlur found the Herald’s manner of speech replusive. Derlur did not appreciate anyone speaking ill of his hosts. He had found them to be hospitable and friendly and saw no reason that they would purposely antagonize others.

As Derlur bided his time, he remarked it strange that a member of the Itashi Alliance had bothered to go through the entirety of the Earther colonies to come to Brez, of all places. He also thought that while these creatures were repulsive, he had seen uglier.

Once given the chance, Derlur, a large Brezan wearing scavanged armor and wearing a travellers cloak, came forward to speak. “Ye speak of rudeness, Herald of Wintermute. But I ask ye a question: Didja bring cake to the party?”


The Herald responds to Auf Lalder "I think there is confusion here, my mask shows an earther, but that is simply for your comfort. I am not an earther, nor have I ever been one. You speak of me not understanding your ways, but you seem to be making a lot of assumptions about me and my ways. As for the escort, I assure you, I am in no danger.

As for the threat there was none, I simply stated a fact. Your Councillor Shirley threatened me, the quickest way to create an international incident and perhaps spark a war is to threaten an official envoy. So I informed you that if she had acted on her threat then her goons would have died. It would have been unfortunate but simply what would have happened. Also, I informed her that if she would have sent people to attack me then I would then go to her rivals and offer my aid to them. The enemy of my enemy is my friend isn’t that right? Isn’t that one of the rules your people have followed? From what I hear you have brought together many tribes that have previously hated each other, you did this by using a common threat, i.e. the Church of One and the Warmonger Cult. They attacked you so you joined with their other enemies and made them your friends. This would have been no different, I do not see how you could find that unreasonable considering what you have done.

As for not harming me in the talks, while I would normally take that as an understood fact, I suppose in this situation it should be said. I also promise that your council will not be harmed by me during the talks. I do hope we accomplish something good between our peoples, if not then I will leave your lands. I will seek out other factions here in the south and see if deals can be made with them then."

As the Herald was about to speak of Wintermute he heard the question asked by Delur, turning to him the hollow voice rang out “Cake? No, I did not bring cake. I am told it spoils in my shadow cacoon, I did bring some foodstuff with me in case it became useful. I have some cookies, and some fermented drinks, neither I am told is very sweet, apparently some say the food in Wintermute can be a bit bland.” The Herald reaches into it’s robes and pulls out a couple of small cookies and a small bottle of grayish liquid. He hands it to Derlur “Would you like some?”

Then turning back to Lalder the Herald continues “I am the Herald of Wintermute, I served in the founding of the city. Our leader Lord Hassan desired a place where all people no matter their background could live together without prejudice or hate. He founded the city of Wintermute during what is currently being refereed to as the Boarder Wars. The city started out mainly settled by vampires, but refugees from the wars in the Northern Kingdoms fled there and now we have a sizable population of different races, mostly former slaves. We have Earthers, K’iorn, Baribur, K’iou, Kumphei, even a small Olgog population. We act as a haven for those who society has rejected and will not give a chance, in a “normal” society I would not have a place. I would be hunted for simply existing, however in Wintermute I have risen far, mainly because my talents are counted rather then what I am. I served with distinction in many battles before becoming the Herald, I have fought the Warmonger Cult, Kasanthian Nightmare Slavers, the Religious Zealots of Korpu, and the Sea King’s vile armies. All can earn more if they work hard enough for it, we are a nation of people who have to scratch and claw for everything we have. We not coddled, we do not expect handouts and we will never be given any. We face threats of death and destruction on a constant basis, I think your people would understand what that is like.”

The Herald’s voice remains level throughout the entire speech, no emotion ever showing.


Olav stepped off of the Hindengog, waving his hand to the pilot. The airship lifted off the ground and into the sky to await his return. He lit a cigar, looking around the area. Not much honestly, but he wouldn’t judge a people he didn’t know. He straightened his hat, walking toward the meeting place. When he got to the entrance he heard an odd voice emanated from inside. The people standing outside were odd in their own rights. He nodded to the Olgogs then stepped into the meeting, pulling the cigar from his mouth while he walked to the few already there. “If I heard correctly, you accept all people no matter who they are or what they have done. That’s view I admire and appreciate.” He put out the cigar on the brim of his hat, returning the bud to a pouch on his belt.

“I am Olav, the representative of Rhug’na’ru. That is in Unen, just to make it clear.” He made himself comfortable then spoke again. “We, the Rhug’na’ru, welcome those who are not always appreciated or sometimes just unwelcome where they live, but that is just for immutables. Even more specifically: immutable Olgogs. For any and all races, I can only see a result riddled with chaos if they were to mix too quickly.” He pulled out a flask and took a swig. “Of course that’s just my own prejudice talking, never once did I meet another tribe or race I could work as well with as I do my fellow Rhug’na’runians. You may have had your own ways, but who am I to judge.” He offered his flask around to those there. “I say the United Tribes of Refuge or Der’al, whichever you prefer, would make a great ally. Or trade partner, whatever you’re here for at any rate.”

((OOC If nobody accepts the flask he puts it away. If they do, its a strong scrumpy))