"It's been a long time, old friend." Estelle, with his beautiful blond hair, was as handsome and dashing as ever. "You seem to be doing well recently?"
"Ah, Estelle, so you're a spy and a guide too? Anyway, I welcome your arrival!" Ryan gave the half-elf a warm hug.
Ryan had fought alongside Estelle a few times and their friendship had grown deep. If it hadn't been for the half-elf's mediation, it wouldn't have been so easy for Ryan to gain the trust and aid of the wood elves.
About twenty wood elves from the Eternal Guard followed behind Estelle. They were always vigilant, observing everyone that appeared nearby.
"Hello, Lord Ryan, I am Bélodis, from the Eternal Forest." Another female woodland lord stood before Ryan. She was tall, fierce-looking with brown patterns painted on her face, clearly a battle-hardened veteran. Her hands, covered in calluses and thick eye shadow, did not fit the human standard of beauty. "Hello, Lady Bélodis, I'm Ryan, Ryan Macado."
"This is my husband, Ogros." A robust male wood elf stepped forward. He was dressed in a simple breastplate and leather armor, with the rest of his body covered in green leaves. He carried a composite bow on his back and a short sword in a sheath at his waist. He didn't look very cheerful but still greeted Ryan reluctantly.
Wood elves live in a matriarchal society. In the woodland council, most of the power is held by females. Even Orion, the King in the Woods, tends to follow the orders of his wife and queen, Ariel. Both the King and Queen of the wood elves are demi-gods with powerful magic; Ariel symbolizes tranquility, rebirth, growth - the harmonious aspects of the forest, while Orion represents wildness, frenzy, and the struggle for survival - the brutal, combative aspects of nature.
If not for the diplomatic relations between Bretonnia and the wood elves, Ryan wouldn't have known so much about them. Every year, the elves' messengers emphasize that knights should stay away from their forests. Despite this, many young questing knights still venture into wood elf territory for glory…
"Welcome to my domain," Ryan calmly greeted the group of wood elves. "I think we need to talk."
"I think so too, Lord Ryan. You've proven yourself to be an excellent Grail Knight, and we share a common enemy, which is why you've earned our friendship. You should understand how distrustful the Asrai are towards humans, so please don't waste the trust we've placed in you. Otherwise, you'll face the wrath of the forest," Lady Bélodis warned arrogantly, chin held high.
Ryan, however, was unfazed. "Trust is mutual and requires effort from both sides. Our trust was built through fighting side by side and mutual reliance, not through charity from the Asrai. I hope we can put aside our biases and have an equal conversation, otherwise, this fragile agreement won't last."
The wood elves fell silent. Since Ryan spoke in Eltharin, the human guards and subjects couldn't understand what their lord was discussing.
Only Ryan looked serious. If the wood elves maintained this haughty attitude, there was little to discuss.
"I may need to trade with you, but I won't beg like a subordinate. Even if I concede now, our future cooperation won't last," Ryan thought. Long-term cooperation is always based on relative equality and mutual benefit.
The wood elves sensed something different in Ryan. Many humans naturally fear and revere elves, giving elves an upper hand in negotiations. But Ryan was different; he saw no difference between these pointy-eared beings and regular humans. In fact, he believed all elves were inherently untrustworthy.
"Only humans are destined to rule the galaxy and all its beings," Ryan thought, echoing his father's beliefs.
Lady Bélodis's face briefly showed anger, but considering Ryan's reputation and power, she coughed and softened her tone. "We didn't mean that, Lord Ryan. You misunderstand. We hope to establish an observation post and trading point in your territory. We don't want to start a dispute."
"That's better. However, I must remind you that while I can respect some of your customs, others cannot be changed for your sake. If we can agree on this, then I believe we can continue our discussions. What do you think, Lady Bélodis and Ogros?"
"Of course, humans have their laws, and elves have ours," the wood elves agreed, understanding that rules beyond their forests are different.
Finally, reaching some common ground, the wood elves stated their demands. They wanted to designate a small area as their outpost outside the forest, station a group there to establish their observation post, which humans couldn't enter without an invitation. In return, they would help repel invasions and pay rent for the outpost.
In addition, the wood elves wanted to trade with humans, needing minerals, amber, wood, and food – resources scarce in their lands. In exchange, they would offer fine wines, exquisite gems, and handicrafts.
The wood elves' terms were very fair, almost too fair, but Ryan understood their stubborn nature. They didn't mind minor losses; what mattered to them was stability and trustworthy trading partners. Elves disliked deceit and scheming with humans, inherently distrusting them. Given their long lifespans compared to humans, the time taken to build trust seemed trivial.
Therefore, the long-lived and trustworthy Grail Knights were an ideal choice for them.
Ryan delegated the negotiation details to his steward, Carsonberg. The terms offered by the wood elves were ideal; only minor details remained to be discussed.
Ryan slipped out with the witcher, Abel, curious to know, "So, Mr. Abel, are you going to prepare your alchemical materials now?"
"Yes, I'm not alone in this. I have a friend, Jules, another witcher, waiting for me at the inn," Abel replied, needing to return there first. "There's some vampire activity I need to confirm."
"Alright, I have matters to attend to myself." Ryan thought of his wife, Olyka, waiting at home and decided not to linger.
After parting with Ryan, Abel returned to the inn alone.
The inn was a small two-story building, typical in the Old World with a courtyard, fence, wooden tables, and benches – a common resting place for witchers.
"Abel, you're back? How did it go?" A young witcher sat in the inn's hall, eating lunch and drinking malt beer.
This witcher, under thirty, was also scarred. Carrying two long swords on his back, he waved Abel over to join him.
Abel sat down and called to the innkeeper, "Sir, another plate of horse meat sausage and a mug of barley beer, please!"
"Right away, witcher," the innkeeper replied, not too enthusiastically but without evident disgust.
"How are things?" the witchers whispered to each other.
"Good. I found Lord Ryan. Fortunately, he remembers me," Abel replied cheerfully.
"Wow, he was just a child when you met him, right? What did he say?" Jules asked.
"He agreed to help after we complete our current task," Abel said, looking serious. "We don't have much time. Let's eat quickly and get moving."
"Okay!" They hurried to finish their meal.
But it was too late. A group of burly men entered, loudly demanding, "Innkeeper! Table for six! Best Kislev vodka and horse meat sausages!"
The newcomers were rugged, mostly bald, with thick beards and pale skin, wearing breastplates and leather clothes, carrying weapons.
"Kislevites!"
"Why are they here?"
Whispers spread through the inn. The witchers found it odd, murmuring, "Strange, what are Kislevites doing in Bretonnia?"
"Who knows? Maybe they're here for tourism. Let's mind our business," they continued.
Kislev, in the Old World's north, bordering the Great Desert of Tazil and a semi-vassal state to the Empire, was home to nomadic tribes from over the World's Edge Mountains. A thousand years ago, these nomads settled in the Old World, north-east of the Empire, just south of the Chaos Wastes. It's the most northerly civilized nation in the Old World, ruled by the Ice Queen, Katarin.
Kislev is an interesting nation. The Tazil Desert is bitterly cold, with land poisoned by alchemy and harsh winters, making farming near impossible. They rely on trade and hunting for food. The country has only three cities and is largely ignored by the Empire, except as a buffer against Chaos invasions.
During the Great War, Kislev was the first to suffer when the second Everchosen, Asavar Kul, invaded. The kingdom fell, cities were destroyed, and the self-proclaimed Tsar led his people south, warning of the Chaos invasion.
After the war, Kislev was rebuilt. Realizing their military weakness, Tsar Boris Bokha spent heavily to reform the army, introducing cannons and firearms from the Empire and Dwarfs. The renowned Winged Lancers were also formed then, nearly bankrupting the kingdom.
Ironically, the 2,000-strong Winged Lancers, made up of nobility's children, were too costly for Kislev to maintain. So, they operated as mercenaries, funding themselves and only returning to defend Kislev in dire times. Currently, they serve under Emperor Karl Franz.
"Bring the drinks, innkeeper!" The Kislevites grumbled about bad deals with the Empire and Bretonnia's refusal to buy bear skins, drowning their sorrows in drink.
The witchers decided to leave, knowing the Kislevites' tendency to get drunk and cause trouble. But as they stood up, one Kislevite slammed the table, "Brothers... hic! Two witchers here!"
"Empire bastards!"
"They're challenging us!"
"Let's kill them! Kill them!"
Abel frowned, "Gentlemen, we didn't provoke you. We don't want a conflict..."
"Go to hell! You stood up as we talked about our loss. Isn't that a challenge?" A red-faced Kislevite drew his curved knife.
The others followed suit, surrounding Abel and Jules. "Let's show these witcher scum our strength!"
"Fight!"
Abel and Jules drew their steel swords.
"No choice now."
"Let's do it!"
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