Someone had the brilliant idea of flying the Queen's Con on a trip to visit the other tribes. This, of course, meant that someone had to be on it when it got there to negotiate for help. Finley was just racking up experience with his bartering and negotiation skills. The Yellow Tail tribe had sent a full company-sized element to help. All were volunteers, but also all were loyal to their tribe.

There were a few mercenaries that had signed on with the legion from the tribe because of what they wanted to do with their personal careers. Most of the lizard folk that had joined up at that point were volunteers fighting under the tribal banner. There were always more lizards to recruit. The promise of cards for a job well done was too much to pass up.

Finley was beginning negotiations with the Peace Turtles. This being the second group of lizard folk that the Caravan had approached, he’d learned lessons from the dwarven legion. Each had a bony protrusion on their back from which they got the moniker turtle, but other than that, they resembled lizards in every other way. This meant that they gave him a bit of a side eye because of his detailed bodyguards.

Someone detailed Tumble and Fen, the Yellow Tail tribe lizards, to him because of their proclivity for ridiculous behavior. It also turned out that he alone could keep them calm and on track.

Was probably due to him having been around children so long as Tinker children who notoriously free roaming. They had to be kept in check despite their pre-rolling nature because if you missed when the Caravan left; you got left miles behind with no chance to catch up. Up. Caravans didn't turn around for people that decide to leave of their own will. And after a certain age, it was understood that you had to be an adult. Sure, they might call for you or search for you for a little. But when the Caravan Master said it was time to go? The Caravan left.

Finley found himself in the unenviable position of being their Caravan Master.

Finley grunted as he picked up another barrel of beer for his special contact. The turtles had a diplomatic outreach element. This had evolved over time to become a group of warriors that could traverse lands between their tribe and other tribes to pass messages on. The extent of their diplomacy was in arriving, passing on the word to the right person and then moving onwards. They could negotiate on behalf of the tribe, but only in limited capacity.

Because of his luck and timing, several of these groups were at the government holdings of the Peace Turtles and had asked him if he might bring some beer to lubricate their discussion. Finley knew about soft skills. He knew about hard drinks. He knew about when soft skills and hard drinks needed to mix in order to make a sale. This was the biggest sale that he might ever make.

He would put his lizard folk companions through some hard work in order to appease potential allies.

"Your dwarves seems being a bit of a rush now," Tumble said between the two barrels of beer that he was holding up.

"They've been waiting a long time. And now we really need to help for the other tribes, so we need to rush too," Finley said. "If we get enough support here, then we can make an assault on the other two death knights. The orc and the elvish one, supposedly."

"What do you mean? Supposedly? Don't you guys know?"

"All that I know about is that there is a death knight with the ability to combine bodies into a construct. He used that ability to create several dragons and then attack us with them. In fact, seeing that dragon was part of the reason we rushed so hard to get that airship going."

Tumble stopped ahead of Finley. The cobblestone path was about to come up and meet him if he didn't keep moving.

"Hurry there," Fen said from behind them. "I don't want to have an accident like last time."

"Hey brother, no one wants to have an accident last time like last time. Don't talk about that. There's some Murphy god that the humans worship that likes to hear things like that and then make them happen," Tumble said, continuing to walk.

"Murphy isn't a God. He's more like a law. Like a law of nature," Finley said. "Oh, I wish the dwarves hadn't taken like everything. That dolly would have been good about now and I don't have my Tinker wagon either."

They had picked up everything that could be picked up. The legion only had a skeleton crew remaining in the area. The first thing to go were the carts, wagons and things that moved things. As Finley was low on the priority for resupply, being the person who resupplied things, he often handed out wagons, carts, and hand trucks. The dwarves that he handed those out to, didn't same need to return them promptly and them being located over 800 span away meant he couldn't just up and take them back. He would need someone to open a portal, find the thing, and move it back to where he was. That was not happening.

"But at least the peace turtles seem receptive, right?" Tumble said.

“The representative asked us to bring all this to start negotiations.”

Tumble continued down the cobblestone pathway until they reach the exterior of the Peace Turtles government holdings. Several two-story buildings surrounded a large interior courtyard, with a three-story building directly across from the gate in the center. Sea rocks, connected with mortar, formed the entire structure. They had spread out the mortar to make a pleasant image of a seaside inside of the alternatively white gray and black stones that dotted it. The mortar provided line work around the images.

It was exquisite and very distracting, and once again, Finley almost tripped. Once again, Finley cursed. And for a second or third time in recent memory, he clung on to his barrel of beer like it was going to be the most important thing that he ever touched. If the beer could save the war, then it will be great. Spilling some beer would create problems if the war couldn’t be saved.

"Tumble, can you talk to the guards over there after you set down your beer? I feel like they want to help us. But we can't spare any," he said, panting. "I wish we could."

"We all wish that we could spare some," Fen said. "But the dwarves were very specific about this."

Several lizard folk in official looking robes appeared to talk to them. Their Peace Turtles did not carry weight on the whole clothing thing. Theirs was very form fitting and functional, giving rise to many pockets to put things in or fashionable fanny packs.

A warrior who walked up to speak to them carried one.

"Gentlemen, I see that you have all brought some refreshment. We thank you for that. I am warrior Nemo of the Peace Turtles. I would love to speak with you on behalf of my government about the issue that you have been dealing with," he said.

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The tall, lean lizard folk were only slightly taller than Finley, a common annoyance amongst races that weren't dwarves. It meant a lot to Finley to be looked up to, and in that moment, he was no longer being looked up to. He couldn't blame Nemo for being tall. Well, he could, but he wasn't going to.

"I am Finley, Tinker, and representative of the Dwarven legion. These are my assistants, Tumble and Fen of the Yellow Tail tribe. We are pleased to meet your acquaintance and would dearly love to set down our beer barrels wherever you can find a safe spot."

He must have sensed how Finley was not comfortable. Nodding, he motioned for two other guards to come and take the beer barrels from Finley and Tumble. Then they piled them up on one side of the courtyard.

"We understand that this is a gift freely given and that this will not affect our negotiations. Though it is a sign of good faith, and we appreciate that," Nemo said. "Please follow me to our receiving room."

The receiving room was right inside of the building. It was a small room with enough light to blind someone at midday. Finley was thrilled that it was not the middle of the day. Long shadows from the palm trees outside cast onto the floor.

Nemo gestured at a group of seats on the floor. Several Peace Turtle representatives had been dutifully waiting, and upon their arrival, stood. They all bowed and then returned to sitting up in the lotus position.

Nemo sat down cross-legged and gestured for Finley to do the same. Tumble and fen sat behind him.

Finley had an itch to check on his skill at that moment, but he knew it wasn't the time. He shelved that thought for later.

"As is custom, I have brought members of the government to record our talks and speak on matters that I am not knowledgeable about when it is appropriate," Nemo said. "But please consider me as your primary negotiator in this matter. After all, if we take up your appeal, then the tribe will send my team.”

"Thank you for your hospitality," Finley said. "I would like to lay out the problem and then we can move on to the solution that we are requesting from your tribe."

Nemo tested for him to continue. Finley went on about what was going on with the war in Noveria. He convinced a lot of what was going on and explained how they were getting to where the amount of land they had to cover was unwieldy. It wasn't enough just to pacify the zombies; they had to make sure that none rose in the legion's absence and reclaimed the land. When he explained what death knights were, the assembled group gasped.

"These people can control the undead around them and make them intelligent? And then those intelligent ones can turn others?" Nemo said.

"That is our assumption. We don't want to test that, obviously."

"Obviously."

The room was silent save for the sound of the scribes writing their notes.

"We understand you might help us with military aid. We understand what we're asking for. The situation is uncertain, and we literally have to raze a continent to the ground."

Nemo nodded.

"We should ask what the other tribes have given you. Perhaps what we can give you is an opportunity to connect with the rest of the tribes first. We are called the Peace Turtles after all."

It was at that moment that several beers appeared. One of the Peace Turtle servants had a tray with what looked like a mug made of stone. He carefully handed one to each participant and then returned for more, giving each one scribe their own mug. Finley accepted him graciously, tasting the Dwarven Brew that he had smuggled all the way down there. Somebody had chilled it. And he didn't It was delicious how it tasted cold. He was going to have to tell the dwarves about that.

It was a well-established and known fact that dwarves loved beer. It was also well known that dwarves struggled to keep their beer cold.

This would not do.

Finley was not the elf to take things at face value unless he could sell them at twice that. Perhaps he could sell cold beer from airships to dwarves? That seemed far-fetched to him even now. Eventually, this war would end, and he could go about his way. He would need to set things up for that in time, and it made sense for him to not wait that long.

He had expected Nemo to continue talking, but the warrior was already motioning for seconds. He waved the heavy mug back towards the entrance, was rewarded shortly after a refreshed mug.

He took a large sip and then returned his gaze to Finley.

"We rarely send our warriors abroad. And by abroad, I mean farther than Sunderland. Sunderland is a long... long continent. Some say that it spans the entire world, but we know that's not true. But if what you are saying is true, and we have no reason to believe it's not. I believe that you have presented a strong case-" He turned to look behind him. "- to the government that we need to prepare and send teams to combat this threat."

Nemo and Finley turn to look at the scribes.

There was a general shuffling of papers behind them as the three scribes compared notes. Finley couldn't really make heads of tails of the lizard folk when they were muttering.

He had a brew that was calling his name, and it would be rude to not answer. He finished his beer, regardless of its temperature.

Perceiving his lack of Brew, Nemo facilitated another for him. Finley accepted graciously. It was what one does when one is handed the thing that one gave away as an ethical bribe in order to secure a good favor.

They waited a bit for the scribes to finish transcribing their notes. Then one scribe went to talk to Nemo in a hushed tone, while another went out a back door.

"I believe we may facilitate part of this," emo said. "If nothing else, my group of warriors is interested in this task. You may have a group of five Peace Turtles joining you sooner rather than later. We need to see what the council of chiefs says once they get back from a closed session."

"Of course," Finley said. "Perhaps we might return to the topic that you presented earlier."

Nemo nodded, beckoning him to continue.

"You talked about how you have good relationships with many other tribes. It's important to me that we set up as many relationships as we can like this. I would strongly request that you impress upon your council how dire the circumstances are. When I came here, the legion had eleven companies actively working on a monster quelling mission for your tribe. Now one remains."

He let that hang in the air for a little.

"We want to satisfy our commitment to you as much as we want you to satisfy this potential commitment to us."

For the first time that day, Nemo smiled.