Within the obsidian-walled keep –whose dark stones glistened ominously under the flickering torchlight– the champion and strategist Arlet conferred with the Council of Greenwood. From Lady Nyota Green, Daughter of Lightning, to Soren Flameshadow, chief of the royal magi, to Commander Eldred, of the armed reconnaissance forces. Even the wind mage Niana, eclipsiarch of the hive and watch cat-pian of Mont St Michel was in attendance, still bearing the golden Fang of Quetzalcoatl. Its divine edge safely sealed in an obsidian sheath of Pandora’s bones. All generals were present save for one. Watch Captain Jenkins, who remained in Sintra to keep an eye on Royal Watch Captain Gaius Borgia, as well as the hibernating gorgons.

The chamber, adorned with opulent tapestries depicting Taloc’s victories over the twisted humans of Pandora’s ancient ministry; and furnished with intricately carved mahogany, exuded an air of ‘permanently borrowed’ wealth. Heavy drapes of deep burgundy framed tall, narrow windows through which the faint light of the winter sun barely penetrated, casting elongated shadows that danced upon the monolithic obsidian floor, warming the volcanic glass beyond what seemed possible, as if the glass had its own heartbeat and passions.

Something kicked Lady Nyota Green hard in the ribs, jerking them upwards and outwards with strength no baby should possess.

*mmeeooooowwww*! Groaned Nyota, interrupting the council of generals.

Ears flattened against her skull, soreness and pain filling her chest, hands went to her side, trying to keep her ribs from poking out of her dress. To reinforce them tactily or sooth the extraordinary pain of an overdue pregnancy. Gradually the pain faded, and her free hand stroked the belly bulge, almost trying to hold her infant’s hand.

“Ooof.” Sighed Nyota, “I wish you would hurry up and come out so I can meet you. It’s better outside, there’s so much more space out here for you to run and play, and your sisters want to meet you!”

Nyota’s calming words soothed the generals as well as her child, granting them permission to continue their report. Over the past three years they’d become used to such interruptions though they still paused to make sure she was alright. All men present owed their lives and the lives of their families to Lady Green, some owed her a dozen times over. Besides, she was their liegelord, the properly installed heiress of Lord Liam. With her consent they resumed the meeting, describing the state of Greenwood Barony, now acting as the eclipsiarch’s new homeland.

Arlet, a figure of chivalric championhood, with a visage weathered by countless duels of honor addressed the assembly.

"As Lord Liam would say, thank you for coming to my ted talk," he began, his gaze sweeping across the gathered lords and ladies, "the people of Greenwood have endured the winter snows with remarkable resilience, owing largely to the ingenuity of our lighthouses." Said Arlet, referring to the abandoned homes that were converted into snow-proof farmlands via quartz roofing tiles.

An invention given to them by the late Lord Liam, who had once tried to name the secret to winter farming ‘green-houses’. But met resistance since the name failed to muster support in the barony of Greenwood. As it felt too churlish, or hubristic to name the lighthouses after one's self.

Pausing, Arlet gestured towards a large map spread out across the central table, a long table of aged blackwood, looted from Blackwood Castle before its collapse and obsidian re-erection.

"These new lighthouses," he continued, "have ensured a steady supply of sustenance despite the frigid conditions. This innovation has been paramount in sustaining the felinid influx and staving off famine. On top of this, Soren’s magi have improved the roofing’s efficiency, fine tuning them to provide peak growth, and have provided farmers with almanacs from across the continent, refining our farming techniques. One such technique has solved another problem, since we can now utilize nightsoil within the more distant lighthouses. Improving sanitation despite the extended sieges. All told, we’ve managed to equal our food production from prior to the portal plague and –if all goes well– one month from now we will have more food in our storehouses than we did the year prior.” Arlet paused, allowing that to sink in.

“Bloody heaven, we’ve finally turned it around…” muttered Eldred, slumping back into the chair as every muscle in his body relaxed, releasing four years of accumulated tension.

“Arlet, are you certain?” Asked Nyota.

“Yes my lady. I’ve seen the stores myself, counted every ledger and bag of grain. After the corruption in Sintra I couldn’t dare make my report without evidence! For the first time since the portals began, we must look to exporting our food before it rots in our storehouses. My Lady, we’ve survived the worst of the plague.” Said Arlet, the corners of his smile hiding beneath a well trimmed beard.

Broad smiles became contagious, spreading from catpian, to general, to Lightning Daughter, and beyond. Cheers erupted from the generals, causing more than a couple of maids and guards to poke their head into the meeting. Tears flowed freely down their faces, at the thought of finally having enough food to eat, and it felt as though a fifty pound backpack had finally been lifted from their shoulders.

They would live.

Their families would live!

Commander Eldred, a hulking figure clad in a dented chestplate and a brown stained tunic, rose to speak next. Waiting for the tears and laughter to quiet before speaking. His voice, a deep rumble akin to distant thunder, resonated through the chamber.

"While our lighthouses have secured our food supply," he intoned, "our defenses against the myriad beasts and monsters that roam the wilderness have been equally decisive."

He glanced at Arlet, a silent acknowledgment of their shared burden.

“Soren knows the details better than I, but I can attest that safezones now exist around our cities. My raiders unanimously report that there are no portals opening within ten miles of Sintra, or twenty miles of Greenhaven. Though Mont St Michel seems to have become a stronger attractor, with larger swarms of monsters approaching her walls.” Said Eldred.

Soren chimed in then, eager to share his discovery. “Mont St Michel will never have a safe zone, Pandora’s walls are attuned so strongly it is impossible for us to counteract them, but! Ha ha! Grandmaster Renosipe has shown us a way to create permanent portals between our cities, and we can extend our exclusionary zones to accommodate farmers. Including Petra, and if I may be so bold, we may be able to retake Kesky in a year or two. There are practical concerns of course, we’ll need more earth magi, and an exclusionary zone only repels unintelligent creatures. But it’ll get the hellhounds off our cocks!” Exclaimed Soren.

“Let the monsters come, our friends are always hungry.” Said Niana, smiling toothily, one clawed hand on her divine scimitar.

‘Our friends’ referred to the half domesticated insectoid hulks that Niana seemed able to control. How the cat-pian wind mage performed the feat could not be replicated, though no other eclipsiarch possessed the wind affinity, or knew of its usage. Each –aptly named– hulk was the size of an elephant, but twice as hungry, carnivorous, and less than half as smart. Arlet shivered as he remembered one tearing a horse in half, then eating the poor mount in a single sitting!

“Is their population stable Lady Niana?” He asked.

“Matimeo says he snipped their bits, so we’re down to them laying ten eggs at a time instead of ten thousand, but they’re still laying them three or four times a year. But that’s okay, they’re pretty tasty.”

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The men paled at her words, they’d all seen Niana’s powers and knew the Fang of Quetzalcoatl was a god-slaying blade, but still! Murdering then eating an insect-elephant’s eggs in front of it was madness for any mortal beings.

“Ahem, excellent work Niana. Let us hope Archbishop Matimeo will be able to continue his progress indefinitely, mayhaps, in enough time, the brutes can replace our horses. Especially given how well they hibernate during the winter.” Said Arlet, looking to Eldred once more.

Not so subtly trying to change the topic.

“Ah, yes sir. We have conducted numerous raiding missions, each of our cities now enjoys relative peace, thus Arlet has seen fit to send me abroad and retask my commanders. We’ve completed the training of a second felinid battle group. They’ve taken up the name of Greenhaven’s Pride, and will be assuming the duties of my raiders here. Furthermore, drawing upon the ancient knowledge of the college, we’ve identified a dozen new creatures. Of which the most pressing are the wendigo, a sort of cursed cannibal who hunts alone for it is too loathesome for even its own kindred. One was drawn to Rhendal’s tower and slain by Soren himself, though it took six royal magicians and a dozen knights to bring it down–”

“--that was a young one, if we find another it should be hunted down immediately, with a score of my magi and Lady Nyota herself. Don’t hold anything back.” Interrupted Soren.

“Yes, that’s my advice as well. Wendigo are intelligent cunts, they can enter the exclusionary zones at will. Greenhaven is relatively safe, but I fear for Niana and Avignon. Isolated as you are, a wendigo could prey on the people as it pleased. Aside from cannibal shamans, I’ve confirmed reports from Jenkins and Sintra. A griffon appeared there, and began combatting the local wyverns. To be true-hearted, I'm not sure which is worse, the aquatic wyverns whom strike from the water or from the air as they please, or the winged lion who tears them apart two at a time!” Said Eldred, shaking his head. “We are less than rabbits to the later, and Jenkins has begun constructing additional ballistae to combat both threats. Though I had hoped Niana could grace Sintra with a raid, if the griffon is intelligent, then our Lady cat-pian is the best candidate to open negotiations.” Said Eldred, staring at Niana.

“Sorry uncle Eldred, Sintra is too far to fly. My friends start getting ant-sy when I come to Greenhaven, I’ll try and make it when Soren’s permanent portals are finished, or if another wind magi finds out how I guide the friends.” Said Niana.

“We shall make do. A griffon ally could be the impetus we need to start a flying force. But, I would not trade Mont St Michel for a chance at a griffon. Besides, Dorian left us his spare pistols. If that winged lion decides to test Sintra he’ll find them ready. Ha! Oh, before I forget, there is one last victory I must announce. I returned to Petra, and with the help of our Lady’s youngest daughters, Lyra and Nora, a watchtower has been constructed, complete with a landing pad and exclusionary zone. T’wil take time, but even now her daughters fortify the town with Saul’s guidance. When spring comes, I beg your leave to sow in the fields of my forefathers once more. Though we lack the manpower. For every ten families who once called Petra home, only one remains."

There were a few frowns at Eldred’s final admission, but no one was truly surprised. Human casualties in Greenwood had been more than seven out of every ten citizens. The lighthouses feeding everyone was the product of towns being mostly empty. Had the towns of Avignon and Petra not been wholly abandoned then no other cities would possess the population necessary to endure.

Petra was an unfortified farming town, built upon centuries of earth magi rejects and thousands of farmer’s sweat. They had turned a rocky wasteland into a land of loose-rock-retaining-walls and fields by pulling the rocks out of the plowed dirt and piling the unmortared stones around their fields. Which the founding and subsequent earth magi periodically fused.

As he spoke, the council chamber seemed to reverberate with the echoes of past battles, Nyota recalling the giant scorpions that tunneled below Petra, or the divine serpent who had first Talocened (christened) her as the Lightning Daughter. After he hit her with a bolt of lightning that forever bleached her fur a platinum white and harrowed her soul with specters of everything she’d ever lost. She scowled, barring her fangs at the serpent’s heavy hand. Then and there she swore to give him just as grand a tempest as he’d given her, if the serpent ever returned from Taloc’s missions. The lords, though seated in comfort, were reminded of her power by the crackling energy rising from her hackles.

Arlet coughed once and nodded, “Your population concerns are noted Eldred, though they are a solution rather than a problem! Ha, Lord Bishop Sebastian has finally recovered and seems to be extremely empathetic to Lady Nyota’s cause. He’s activated every paladin alive and will be delivering roughly one hundred felinids every month, save for the four winter months. Twill be easy to divert a portion to Petra. Though I would recommend growing the population slowly and integrating the former slaves into your way of life to prevent unnecessary… ahem, conflicts.” Said Arlet, referring to the slaves’ violent tendencies.

Such habits were byproducts of their treatment, for if you saw a slavemaster whip every problem, then the only way you knew how to solve a problem, was to whippet. A policy Nyota prohibited.

Though it all left Arlet wondering if freeing every slave was a mistake. His strategic mind screamed “YES DEAR GOD WHAT THE FUCK! WHY ARE YOU CREATING SO MANY PROBLEMS?!?! DO THIS OVER TWO CENTURIES!!! NOT A SINGLE LIFETIME!!!”

A sentiment he strongly agreed with. Slaves were incapable of being responsible for themselves, and often needed to be coerced or ordered forcefully. Actions he could perform capably, but preferred not to carry out at all. For the line between pure-intended-discipline and abuse was exceedingly fine.

“My lady, Your barony stands repaired, fortified, reinvigorated, and now repopulated. But… We’ll need to start reclaiming territory. Kesky can be recovered and that should sate our needs for a year or two, but King Aldric’s decree is sending every slave in the continent to us. I’ve also noticed a rash of recent sterilizations… We’ll drown in an excess of mouths, then suddenly suffer the inverse as the population ages.” Said Arlet.

“We’ve tried intercepting King Aldric’s orders, about half the baronies still received the sterilization orders.” Said Soren, hanging his head in shame.

Nyota grit her teeth, expecting Aldric’s betrayal, furiously unsurprised by his savagery. “Taloc damn that ape king! Raise your head Soren, I know you work tirelessly for our people. Please, continue working. I’ll heal those I can, but this will strain our healing resources.” Said Nyota, reaching over and giving Soren’s hand a squeeze.

“Indeed. A sterilization prevented will soon be a life saved.” Said Arlet.

Soren squeezed Nyota’s hand in return. “Ah, right, I believe Lord Bishop Francois will avoid future sterilizations! Matimeo reports that the church has been activated on a grand scale. They are purchasing thousands of felinids and slowly phasing out church owned slaves. If they fail to integrate into the human population, they are relocated to the pardanite lands in the southwest. Where the southern elves seem to keep them in line.”

“So there is hope.” Interjected Eldred.

“For now.” Said Arlet, his voice taking on an emotionless tone as his strategist skills activated. “We have time, months not years. If we falter then Greenland will wither and die. You must claim more territory. Lord Liam holds the strongest claim to Blackwood’s domain, since we defended it and in a way, rebuilt it. That would be the ideal place to claim and expand. Soon, within the next year, we’ll need to build or conquer a fortress. Though we have no quarry and no earth magi capable of such a feat.” He concluded.

Nyota covered her mouth, licking her teeth once to lubricate her scowl. Taloc had spoken in her dreams, but said nothing useful.

“Taloc promised he would send us a miracle. Another Lightning Lord has been sent–”

Gasps of shock interrupted her. Even Arlet groaned. One Lightning Lord was a boon, but three meant an apocalypse neared.

“Mom, are you certain?” Hissed Niana, her knuckles going white as she grasped the Fang.

“Totally certain. Another Lightning Lord has claimed a life with their powers, and Taloc intends to send him our way. So we will not strike against the humans, neither openly nor in secret. King Aldric has failed to deliver even half of my daughters, and none of my sons, though Blackwood’s ledgers –may he rot in hell a thousand times!– indicate none of my sons were slain. Blackwood Castle is already on Soren’s shortlist for building a permanent portal. We’ll open that gate when we are ready to indebt Hamilton. When his armies have bled and are faltering, then and only then will we stake our claim. Duke Kheresh has already retreated from our lands, it can’t be much longer for Duke Hamilton.” Nyota frowned at the map, reconsidering the borders. “Our walls stand strong against the current enemies, but we must prepare for the day when the king decides to stab us in the back, just as his ancestors enslaved us.” Warned Nyota, steeling the resolve of a dozen hardened captains.

In the solemn silence that followed, the weight of their shared responsibility hung palpable in the air, and not a one of them cowed. Nyota’s fangs appeared once more, this time in a murderous smile. Her champions were ready and her people were safe.

“Good. Truly Liam blessed all our lives by bringing us together. We must not disappoint him. Our spies have laid the groundwork in Talocandel. One year from now, we will strike at the king, and forever break his connection to the church. We’ve got Cody, and the only living Lightning Lord, we can earn the paladin’s loyalty. Until then, Focus our efforts on retaking Avignon, and further fortifying Petra. Once Liam’s daughter is born, I will assume the mantle of Lightning Queen. We must be ready then. Both for war, and the purging flame of the king. Should we err, and lose the fulminonimbus’ support we will all perish.” Warned Nyota.