The Conclave meeting hadn't been a bust by any means, certainly the Empire had come across as strong, negotiators and clever. For the clans to the North, it was a winning situation. Gold, food that had slowly been coming in which was much needed for Winter and four ships promised. They had no idea which ships, no barbarian had ever sailed. At least among their clans. Understandably, those that had gone were probably silently laughing as it would force the Clans to come back to the Empire itself for advice and need of sailing large ships or at least, a crew. Which could force them back into another trade of goods, say a lovely 20%? They had manipulated a clan of many and come out, unscathed. Or, perhaps that is what some thought.
During negotiations however, there was one lone clan that was not, happy. Nor did they even pretend to be. Quietly, they had contacted a Norther pack of Wolven, thinking to start trade with them and perhaps get somewhere further then they had been, line their own pockets with further riches then any of the others and get ahead. The Empire had trumped this situation and set them back, not only were they humiliated in a room full of their own, but in front of the southern strangers that had always nipped at their heels. This was an unforgivable insult. An old chief had been killed by a single firebolt and having to chose a new chief had gone down very quickly. Soon they'd devised their own plans and separated into groups. They would have their revenge and gain back that which was lost. For because of a bad decision within conclave, they didn't even have the ship promised, instead, because of the death of their Chief, they were down gold and ship and food.
Not to soon after, reports of wolven shake downs in Valencia were being reported, though upon being asked, they weren't quite certain of features, what they were wearing, exactly what they wanted. Gossip was a powerful tool, but a thousand eyes can still get wrong what was actually seen in the moment, from panic to vague glimpses. Soon reports from farmers to paltry merchants were reaching the ears of Lord Sorgram and Lord Morgan Drakewing. What were they going to do about this? The theft of hard work over summer days and months now gone, slaves afraid to travel alone. Soon, before the night had waned, it was reported that a few women had gone missing.
In the Capitol, reports of a group or groups of, Barbarians had been spotted, some poking about Nanthalion proper, some by the Towers of Unigo and Umbara, a few roaming by Thallis. It had begun to unsettle a few while a few more thought it a welcome change to see such large handsome males wandering around. But it was an oddity, not to see barbarians themselves, but so many in one group. Their mood was jovial enough, especially with the women, but that too.. was beginning to change.
In the early morning a troop of Imperial guards ran across a lone camp sight, ransacked, nearly destroyed and not more then ten feet from the encampment was found a slaughtered elf. It wasn't of course the norm around here, but nor was it cause for alarm, not until another troop reported in that they too, had come across a small cabin with three that had lost their lives. Two elves, and one draksen.
Wings beating shattered day break over the Imperial Guard headquarters and soon the beat of their boots were heard over wood floorboards, door left to crash against the wall. "Commander! Commander! We might have a situation!" He was young of course, brash, only a few days into his training really so of course, everything was a situation.... It was of course, snickered at, at first.. it wasn't so amusing when they visited each sight.