[Mualtir POV]
Mualtir had been stationed as the High Colonel of the Thnufir River's Fort Thnufir for nearly a decade now, though before that she'd spent most of her whole life here as a soldier's daughter, then a trainee, then a soldier under her grandmother's command before a brief stint in the Alniyh family's training camps. Then, once she'd risen through the ranks, that same position was assigned to her after her grandmother's retirement. Mualtir could still remember the pride on her parents' and grandmother's faces as she'd stepped up before the Gran Verat and knelt to have the office of a High Colonel be bestowed upon her.
Even before her assignment as High Colonel of the fort, Mualtir was respected by her soldiers, and had proven herself through the many battles spent alongside them. The permanent limp in her left leg testified of that. As Mualtir slowly stumped the length of her office's balcony overlooking the Thnufir, the dull, forgettable ache in her thigh intensified and she idly massaged at it. The old scars always pained her when a windword was nearing. Something to do with the air pressure, she was told, but she was a soldier, not a scholar, so the reason for it didn't matter, just that she could use the windwords successfully. As she looked out over the river and the surrounding forests and waited for the disembodied voice to approach her, the memory of the old wound struck.
A Sunkindred scout had snuck over the river and was attempting to make his way into the Veratocracy's lush jungles from the frostbitten southern lands when she'd found him. She'd been a mere footsoldier then, still untested in the flames of battle, and the only Sunkindred she had seen until then had been corpses. This one's countenance still stuck with her. Its large, bovine head with two horns, thick furry arms and a barrel chest with little in the way of armor, but so brazenly confident.
He'd been quick to use their traditional weapon, quicker than her, and he threw the stone-headed hatchet with such alacrity that it had buried itself deeply in her thigh before she'd been able to react. The only reason she still lived was because even then she'd been an accomplished Windspeaker, and had sent a blast of lightning into his chest, knocking him flat before she'd limped forward to try to press the attack.
With the agony from her wound, Mualtir had lost concentration on her Stormcalling too soon to cripple or slay her foe, and the Sunkindred spy had been quick to recover. Though small for a Sunkindred, only a bit taller than she was, he retained the bulk and hardiness of his kind which allowed him to rise to his feet and appraise the situation. Looking down at the weapon lodged in Mualtir's thigh, the scout realized he wasn't about to get his weapon back, sighed, and bolted away as the Fort's watchmen began to sound their horns. That was the last she could recall, as she'd passed out shortly thereafter.
Mentally returning to her office, Mualtir looked at the hatchet set on her desk. She used it as a paperweight these days, but it was an impressive display of craftsmanship, beautiful and functional. Sharpening it was a work so tedious even the Gran Verat's Synod would have to engage in another one of their foolish debates on how best to set up a committee of how to sharpen each section of the blade. After all, they had a meeting to do anything, let alone something complex and beautiful. Mualtir didn't miss Viertaal and the politicking necessary to survive in the capital. Instead, she controlled this 58.3 mile stretch of river and protected those found on her side from the incursions of the Sunkindred barbarians.
"Maybe I'm getting old for this." She mused aloud. "Getting lost in thought like this… Gramma would be all over my ass about this." Mualtir chuckled as the discomfort in her knee grew, and finally the windword began to sound in her ear.
"Um… High Colonel, my name is Yoharr, an' I'm reporting on an attempted hunt of keelish but… it didn't go so good. The hunters were all wiped out, and there's a girl that's coming your way to tell you about it. I don't think there's enough Speakers here to deal with these…"
The man's voice detailed the experience that the militia gathered by a certain Marata had experienced, and the more she heard, the more Mualtir stood straight. After listening for just a moment, Mualtir realized she recognized the name–Marata had been a sergeant in the constabulary in Viertaal, so she should never have faced any real risk of losing her life at the keelish's claws, but she wasn't the first, nor would she be the last to fall to their treacherous ways.
Stories told to her by Gramma echoed through her mind. Her grandmother's master had lost her son to the keelish just before the establishment of the Veratocracy, and Aliteli had told Gramma the stories enough that Gramma had then told them to Mualtir. Hatred of the keelish was easy enough to cultivate, and Mualtir wanted to see them dead since they were killing her citizens. Though she ached to personally lead the assault on the scaled menace, Mualtir continued to listen to the windword as Yoharr's message came to a close, knowing her own role wouldn't be to lead the extermination force.
"... so, we don't think we're ready for this kinda fight. We just wanted to pass this message to you and then, hopefully, have someone from the fort come and take care of these… beasts."
The whispering of the windword died down, and Mualtir immediately began composing her own.
"Thank you, Yoharr. This is High Colonel di'Thnufir speaking. Hold your position, I will pass your message on to Viertaal before responding."
Without further discussion or worries, Mualtir sent a brief explanation of the need to send a team of HIgh Speakers to exterminate this threat before they could grow to be dangerous to the country at large. Surprisingly, an answer was quick to return in just a couple of minutes, and a grin and grimace fought for dominance over her face. Before she let her emotions take hold over her, though, Mualtir responded to Yoharr.
"Thank you for your report. Viertaal has been notified of your plight, and have designated an elite team to engage and eliminate the keelish presence nearby. Several of my High Speakers will be joining you soon under the direction of High Lord Leialt Alniyh and several of his Bound beasts. Do not worry, because before long, High Speakers and a High Lord will be on the trail of these keelish and will forthwith annihilate them all."