"We're almost there so start to restrain yourselves," Sylka heeded her siblings as well as the two guards escorting them while they passed a mound of light-brown dirt chock-full of termites.
The insects barely noticed Sylka's entourage as they passed by their home, busy as they were with whatever it is termites commonly concern themselves with. And also the fact that termites have no reason to care about them.
She was thankful that the insects only feasted on wood.
Given their size- around half the length of her forearm, - the termites wouldn't have a hard time killing them, the acid weaponized by such creatures on its own is enough to kill them all.
Sylka knows that the corrosive can eat through armor with ease, let alone Kobold flesh. She carries multiple bottles of them on her person after all.
"Are they even going to agree to this? Isn't this too much?" Her brother, Tessik, asked in a justifiably skeptical tone.
Sylka gave Tessik a side glance and caught him looking back and forth between his spear and herself, a frown tugging on his lips. He wasn't comfortable with talking about the greenskins, as always.
Sylka had another concern beyond the goblins, mainly that the other tribes wouldn't agree to their terms in taking the fight to the Satyr. Fortunately, negotiations don't happen because both parties agree to one thing-
"Yes." Sylka confidently replied. She turned away from her brother.
- Negotiations form when one party wants one thing from the other, and more often than not, the losing side has to set a fine or offer up some kind of profit at the end of the transaction. Besides the reward, there should also he reassurance that the goal can be met.
Sylka knew that her tribe had nothing but reassurances to offer but with the dawning possibility of the goblins coming to kill all of them in the near future, the other tribes had no choice but to agree to a temporary union.
"We can negotiate our own strength in the upcoming fight now that we have access to a potion," ludicrous as it may sound, the potion Thariel gave them is a game changer. Especially when paired with one of Zyla's spells.
And it may not be the anteaters or the sheer strength/skill of the other tribes in this forest but with the potion in her father's hands, their tribe at least had firepower to back themselves in the upcoming negotiations.
They cannot be ignored now that they too have the capacity for strength. However temporary.
Well, more strength than before Sylka supposed.
She looked at her sister.
Zyla had been one of the reasons why their tribe posed a threat to the others as not only did she have spells which can take down Treefeller Anteaters, but she also had one which can boost the strength of their people.
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With her sister and a strength boost potion at hand, Sylka was confident that she would be able to convince the other tribes to work together and defeat the greenskins.
Sylka broke out of her thoughts once she noticed the change in the environment. It was better for her to focus now and not let her thoughts go idle.
The denser growth of tree trunks indicated that they are now close to the Mound Tribe, a few more steps and they soon spotted the termite mounds that the Kobolds named their tribe after.
Large, bumpy, and ridden with giant insects armed with mandibles capable of tearing through wood. The mounds were all over the forest floor, growing between trees with trunks full of holes and their bark crawling with termites.
In the past, Sylka occasionally visited this place to refill her bottles of acid so she's used to such a sight. The termites were mainly harmless and didn't attack anyone right as long as they kept their distance.
She looked back at her guards. They seemed to be comfortable all things considered. Still, it was better to warn them of other things lest the negotiations fail.
Sylka turned away from them, "you two, don't antagonize the local guards." She warned, "arrogant they may be due to their bond with their anteaters, we're not here for a fight so just let them walk over you."
She heard Grinnek and Baskal let out a rough huff in response and deemed her warning effective.
The houses the people of the Mound Tribe lived in weren't made of animal hide or wood, nor they did have the shape of protruding tents like the ones in her home.
Their houses are instead similar to that of humans'; large boxes of mud and dirt built with termite mounds as inspiration.
It wasn't quite as imposing and pleasing as a human's home, but Sylka would be lying if she said the houses weren't effective in their purpose; protection from the elements as well as keeping the inhabitants warm.
A shame her people have never bothered to build their own homes like this. Winters would be so much easier if they did.
On their way to the chieftain's house they passed by a new couple constructing their own home along the edges of the settlement and noticed that beneath the bricks, a foundation of sticks and branches acted as support to keep the walls standing.
The home of the chief, much like theirs, was the largest house in the tribe. It looked more like multiple interconnected houses rather than one massive home however, with each section connected by a winding rectangular hallway.
Guards accompanied by anteaters four times their size patrolled the perimeter of the building. None of them paid her entourage any mind as they passed through the entrance and walked beyond the doors.
The largest room, the one at the front, is where they are supposed to negotiate and talk.
It was a living room, with furniture and chairs of all kinds present within, a large window was drilled onto the left most wall, illuminating the place with moonlight.
The chief wasn't here yet, allowing Sylka to take a seat and make herself comfortable.
She turned to her siblings to inspect them one last time; Zyla, as usual, didn't seem to be bothered. She sat still with a placid expression while gazing at the silver moon light coming from outside the window.
Tessik was more tense but he hid it well. He had his fang-dagger on his lap and is glaring at it in a baleful manner, the chainmail he wore beneath his leather vest was slightly visible. He must have rushed wearing it in his panic.
His chainmail was human made and something he got after several escort missions from merchants. Though Sylka doubted it would matter much now that the goblins knew how to forge stuff.
She's seen their lower caste carry weapons of iron before so it was safe to say the ones who are higher in the hierarchy would have better gear.
To combat this, Treefeller Anteaters need to be present in the fight.
Before long, the chief of the Mound Tribe as well as his family arrived inside the living room.
The Kobold leading the group from the front is Brask, a Kobold that although shorter and less of a combatant compared to her and her siblings, is still quite muscular. He wouldn't win against Tessik but he'd leave her brother wounded by the end of the fight.
Right next to him is Krynn, a short, non-muscular Kobold who's demeanour is softer than that of the wood pulp the termites outside are so fond of consuming. Unlike her husband who wore a simple pair of pants and leather armor, she had a robe draped over her back.
Her daughter was much the same- Tessira was a Kobold who, although tall, barely knew how to fight and instead focused on learning how to heal. She wasn't an alchemist or a shaman, and Sylka thought that she should have been.
Behind the pacifist was their servant, Nyrix, a female Kobold who does everything around the house that Krynn couldn't. From chores, to cooking, and according to rumors, even pleasing the patriarch.
Sylka smiled and stood up when the four Kobolds neared, she bowed in respect despite her intrusive thoughts before then straightening her back.
"Thank you for receiving us," she starts, "I am here to negotiate an alliance against the new and rapidly growing force within the forest."
Brask narrowed his eyes and his snout thinned to part his lips, his show of fangs didn't deter Sylka however and she just stared at the chief with a dismissive gaze. Posturing is good, but being this aggressive right off the bat is simply pointless.
"We're not getting ourselves killed alongside you." Brask snarled.
"Then don't," smiled Sylka, "there won't be any deaths should things go the way I expect them to be,"
Well, then, time to do her job as Emissary.