Private Tales At Your Leisure [Toruuk - Candenord]

[Fieravene]

A few days after Dragon Dreams


Candenord was decidedly not the direction Fieravene had been tasked to go, but she wasn't known for following orders without question. No, the dark elf was better known for doing things at her leisure, all in good time. So after a short portal stone hop to the north of the Spine, Fieravene turned her sights not north or west, where she might find her way to the distant and rumored blood lake in the tundra of Eretejva, but southeast.

Where she might instead find her way to the distant and rumored city of Candenord to visit a friend.

While she had no certainty that Toruuk would be there, her runestones rarely let her down. He was, at the very least (according to them) in the facing direction. Keenly clued in and unrepentant for her mode of curiosity, Fieravene followed the stones upon her dreary black mount. Across the northern realm of the spine, forging blistering winds and frigid nights along a frozen pass of snow before descending upon the foothills where they spilled into the bowl of a river, dotted by roving clans of minotaurs.

With luck, she found herself welcomed by a group of the friendly sort and they directed her toward their capital for the asking and the name drop of a certain wandering champion, Toruuk Stoneheart . There, if perhaps the presence of a dark elf was as uncommon as she suspected, he might be expecting her or she might instead share words and a meal with his ruling father.

The unknown was exciting - just as she had divulged to Aivrid a few days ago during his Seeing ritual.

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

Fortune would have it that the Wandering Champion had just happened to wander home for once, namely to pay a visit to his dear old dad. It had been a great many years since last he'd walked the barrens and plains of Candenord, and even more since he'd seen the stone barricades of Yore. He had left his home on good terms all that time ago, however, and wanted to check in on his clan and family. It was good to see that the ancestral home of the Minotaurs was still under Stoneheart control. It seemed that even without his presence they were still more than capable of maintaining their status as the greatest of the clans.

No sooner than he had arrived at Yore's borders that he was met by a Clan Windhorn scout bearing a message. The Windhorns had generally had good relations with the Stonehearts; their propensity for the nomadic lifestyle meant that they had no interest in taking Yore for themselves. As Toruuk recalled, they believed that settling down ultimately made you "soft," or something like that. It was a sentiment that he actually agreed with.

Regardless, Toruuk thanked the ewe that bore the message and received what news she brought. A...dark elf was looking for him? All the way out here? Well damn, that could only be that firecracker Fieravene. She had said that she wanted to travel together, he just hadn't expected her to mean to Candenord. Well, a little extra delay wouldn't hurt anything. The bull let the scout know that he'd be waiting here, on the outskirts of the city, and to tell his dark elf friend as such.

Specifically, he had found himself pulling into a stable to park his faithful titan beetle, Dyna, when the scout had found him. Here he'd remain, for the time being.

 

[Fieravene]

Fiera was pleased to find an amiable nature toward her as she traversed the plains of Candenord. Though she had been warned off a more westerly direction where a clan resided that was not so kind, her journey to Yore was otherwise uneventful. Her black steed continued on, dead-eyed despite being surrounded by the massive creatures, and she soon found herself at the outskirts of a robust settlement.

The scout had mentioned a stable, which Fieravene found to be something of an amusing notion for a people of such massive stature. What, exactly, could a minotaur ride? To the stables she went, politely riding off the side of the main road until Toruuk's gargantuan silhouette came into view.

"Hello there Wandering Champion," she greeted him as she rode up, a broad smile sliced across her dark face, white teeth showing, "fancy finding you here. Not done wandering yet, I hope?"

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

The mighty bull had just been finishing up tending to his own mount, a positively enormous beetle which looked like it could comfortably seat a Minotaur even of his size. The creature had a dull, yellow carapace and a brutal looking horn sprouting from where one might approximate a nose to be. Toruuk was tenderly removing some sort of moss from its joints and making sure its saddle was fixated appropriately. Looking around, Fieravene would see that there were actually several such beetles in the stalls of the outdoor stable, most of which had proportionately larger horns than his.

"Eeeyyyy! Fi! I was hopin' it was you that had come after me." The hulking fellow dropped what he was doing and took a few lumbering steps towards his dark elf friend, returning her smile in gusto before casually scooping her up into a huge, fuzzy hug. "Good to see ya again, toots. This champion ain't had his fill o' wanderin' yet, hoho! Come to wander with me?"

Toruuk set the dainty woman back down as easily as he'd picked her up, all smiles and sunshine.

 

[Fieravene]

"Oh I can't imagine you know tooOOOO-" Fiera found herself swept out of her saddle and into the minotaur's beefy, hairy hug. Unexpected, certainly, but all in all not unwelcome. She wheezed as he set her back down, buckling slightly while she caught her breath, grinning through a grimace.

"-too many dark elves. Good to see you, too, Master Toruuk," with a chuckle the elf straightened herself and her armor before offering him a nod, "precisely what I wanted to hear. I've got a mission and I could use some company. Might be a challenger in there for your trouble. What say you?"

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

The champion chuckled heartily and clapped his dark elf friend on the back, though lightly, careful not to barrel her over. He oft had to remind himself that the smaller folk were far more fragile than his own kind.
"Can't say that I do! Don't gimme that 'master' business, you don't gotta use formal titles with me."

I've got a mission and I could use some company.

Ah, so she had come for business rather than just a visit. Toruuk couldn't blame her; there wasn't much reason to travel to Candenord these days. Inhospitable land and folk who had a reputation for doing little more than fighting among themselves didn't exactly make for a tourism friendly territory. Regardless, Toruuk was always interested in a bit of adventuring, and if she needed some muscle or a guide he could hardly refuse.

"Sure, Pops can wait. What's the job?" He asked enthusiastically.

 

[Fieravene]

"If you insist," Fiera smiled lightly as she gathered her mount's reins despite the fact that it had stood there, barely batting an eye at the entire exchange.

"I have a man I need to see about a half-giant and he likes to seclude himself in unwelcoming territory. But don't make your father wait on my behalf - I'd rather like to meet him, myself."

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

Toruuk cocked his brow at the she-elf. That was quite a pair of sentences she'd just spouted.
"Uhh, alright. There should be an open stable or two if ya wanna park your mount, though it might be a little...spacious. That emperor o' yours gotcha runnin' errands for him, huh?"

The second statement was the more surprising of the two. Apparently whatever mission Fieravene was on wasn't on any kind of time constraints.
"Sure, you can tag along, 'sonly fair. Got business with the ol' chief o' the Stonehearts?"

The bull promptly finished stabling his own mount and scratched the underside of her mandibles, earning him a soft trilling noise from the creature. He produced some roots from a satchel on his hip and offered it up to the beetle, who quickly snatched the treats up and devoured them. Toruuk chuckled and stepped away, satisfied with his work.

 

[Fieravene]

At once the dark elf's smile bore a point as sharp as the horns on the minotaur's head, "Please, I'm a Mercenary, not some eager loyalist." Ashuanar came to mind, but she hated thinking ill of the elf. He did try so very hard to please.

So long as the benefits of carrying out missions for Gerra continued to appease, she would do so. Yet greater offers had been given and she wasn't one to look a gift dragon in the mouth. Fiera quickly surveyed the ... stables and blinked at the size of the stalls. A glance to her beast, who for the first time offered some visual form of interaction by looking back at her, and she shrugged and lead it into one.

Gloved hands deftly worked the buckles of the bridle before she pulled it over the horse's ears and off its head, "Business, no. I like to endear myself to those whose opinions matter," Fiera smirked at Toruuk by peeking out at him from under the horse's neck while she unbuckled the breastplate, "and I do love meeting big personalities. If yours is anything to speak on of his."

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

A hearty chuckle bellowed out from the Minotaur's prodigious chest.
"Yeeaah, nobody ties Fiera down, that's what I'm talkin' about." The bull hollered back. It felt good to be travelling with a fellow free spirit. That was, at the very least, the thing he most had in common with the dark elf. He hadn't had much time to associate with her previously beyond the events that took place in the royal bathhouse in Amol-Kalit, but what he did see of her impressed him greatly. Small and fragile looking as she was, she had spirit that rivaled that of many of his own clan.

The bull sauntered over to the stall Fi had picked out and began casually and gently lifting clear any of her horse's more weighty equipment as she loosed it from the steed's body.
"Heh, I'll take that as a compliment." "My old man is a bit more serious than me, but a lot o' folks tell me I'm a chip off the ol' block. Last I heard, he had big plans for Candenord, so I expect things'll be busy up in Yore."

Later, some distance from the stables...

Great stone arches held aloft a mass of land betwixt a canyon, a great scar upon the plains north of the Spine. The land seemed to hang weightlessly in the air, held aloft by an unseen force. Rivers meandered beneath, herds of grazing beasts content to bask in the shade cast by the craggy mass above them, while waterfalls cascaded from the floating land and down into the bodies of water below.

Before Toruuk and Fieravene lay the ancient fortress city of Yore, stronghold of the Minotaur clans for countless generations. Great spires and rune-covered domes had been carved into its landscape, each a testament to the sheer resilience and stubbornness of Minotaur society. Numerous buildings and towers marked both the outskirts and innards of the city. Though it was perhaps not the bustling centers of civilization and commerce that the great cities of the south and east were, to many bulls and ewes it was home.

Toruuk stood before one of the enormous, bridge-like structures which seemed to tether Yore to the surrounding landmass and soaked in the view. Some would call it humble, but it was certainly majestic in its own way. In all his years of travelling, he'd never found a sight that compared. The bull whirled about to check if his travelling companion was keeping up and hollered back at her.
"Ahhh, home sweet home, hoho! Doin' alright, Fi? Yore proper is just a hop, skip, and a jump over one of the Grand Arches."

 

[Fieravene]

"Yeeaah, nobody ties Fiera down, that's what I'm talkin' about."

The elf smirked. Oh if only he knew. The last time someone had tried to tie the dark elf down she'd brought about the full societal collapse of her own people. Whoopsie.

"Heh, I'll take that as a compliment." "My old man is a bit more serious than me, but a lot o' folks tell me I'm a chip off the ol' block. Last I heard, he had big plans for Candenord, so I expect things'll be busy up in Yore."

"Fabulous," Fiera remarked, not to be put-off by a bit of traffic.


Steed undressed and fed with a pile of local grasses, she followed her companion out along the road for the trek that would take them into Candenord's capital. By the time Toruuk came to a stop before the threshold of the great stone archway Fiera was feeling mildly put-off by the traffic.

She couldn't be said to be out of shape - Fieravene had traversed lands far and wide upon her own two feet - but keeping up with the massive stride of the minotaur and keeping out of the way of every other massive minotaur had proven to be an unforeseen challenge. The elf pulled to a stop at Toruuk's side, one hand leaned against him as she gave a puff of breath.

"Well," she gestured vaguely to the scenery before her, "it's certainly something." Magnificent, really, but she'd been bumped and jostled a few times along the way and was feeling sore of it.

"Breathtaking, scenic. I could do with a set of fairy wings right about now."

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

Sometimes it was difficult to remember that the smaller folk had a bit of trouble keeping up with the pace of those half again larger than themselves. While the trek from Yore's outskirts across the Grand Arches felt like a short jaunt for him, he noted that his travelling companion was looking a bit winded. Thankfully, Toruuk had left much of his adventuring gear behind at the stables, freeing up most of his back and shoulders.
"Certainly is a view, ain't it? Can't give ya wings, but I can give ya the best seat in the house."

Without asking, the bull simply scooped Fieravene up by her torso, lifted her into the air, and placed her gently and securely on his broad shoulders. He latched his hands around her shins and, once certain she was secure and comfortable, began to trudge across the arch, wading through the mild traffic that came with midday.

"Don't wantcha to get too worn out yet. From the sounds of it, you've got quite the trek on your hands later. By the way, define 'unwelcoming territory.' Not headed through Clan Thunderhoof territory, are ya?" The bull asked, making his way up the ascending portion of the duo's journey. The arches were plenty big enough to have Minotaurs travelling both ways, but not nearly large enough to fit titan beetles in any kind of sizable numbers, thus the locals' habit of parking their mounts at one of the many stables located on the far sides of the canyon. Strangely, despite their precarious looking nature, the Grand Arches were all remarkably sturdy.

 

[Fieravene]

She supposed being man-handled ... Beef-handled? Bull-handled.

Bullied.

Whatever it was that was happening to her as the ground rather suddenly departed from her feet, she suspected was going to be a regular occurrence while traveling with the Wandering Champion. The elf had lived in the Overlight long enough to have quashed her sense of dignity by her burgeoning sense of adventure. There, perched atop the bull's expansive shoulders (it was rather like a couch), Fiera couldn't bring herself to disagree.

Swiping a few strands of wily hair from her face, she blinked about and peered down at the other minotaurs from her wandering chaise. She smirked, an expression of profound mirth.

"Better than any throne I wager," Fi leaned so he could see her smile before righting herself and carefully bracing a hand against one of his horns.

"Ever heard of the Tangled Canyon?" Of most people she knew he'd be one of the few who might have.

"It's north of here, just before the Blightlands. It's guarded by golems. The route I have plotted has only one ... that I'm aware of, but it's not one I'd fancy running into alone."

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

Toruuk plodded ever forward, satisfied that Fieravene was comfortable and sound atop his back. Occasionally one of his kin would glance up at the dark elf and perhaps snicker, smile, or cock a brow at the sight, but the realization of who carried the woman always wrought understanding and respect. These were the usual antics of the Stoneheart Champion, and none of the locals questioned it anymore. Instead, the only vocalizations from Toruuk's clan-mates were excited greetings and other signs that they were glad to see the prodigal son paying a visit home.

"Ever heard of the Tangled Canyon?"

"Heard of it, never been. Depending on how 'north' we go, the Thunderhoof geyser fields might be in the way, though." The bull grumbled, thinking out loud more than anything else. "Thunderhooves are friendly folk--weird, but welcoming, yeah. The geyser fields? Not so much."

Golems. Always golems. Mages sure loved to leave those things everywhere, and they always seemed to cause problems for folk who were just passing through. Damn mages.
"If a few hunks o' rock are the only problem, should be a cake walk. I got yer back."

 

[Fieravene]

"Geyser fields..." the elf parroted ruminously, dark gloved fingers tapping at her lips. She wasn't aware of geyser fields but she also wasn't going north straight from the Portal Stone. That changed things a bit but left Fieravene unswayed from her plotted route.

She smiled down at the minotaur, not that he could see, pleased for his assured company all the same.

"Knew I could count on you. Now, about your illustrious Papa - what's the appropriate form of etiquette with the King of Candenord?" Far be it from she to act the fool in front of a King.

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

The bull snorted loudly, mixed amusement and annoyance at the thought of using formality with his father.
"He likes respect and manners and all that, but don't let him push you around. He's dealt with lil' folk before and I've watched him brush 'em off when he gets intimidatin' and they bend the knee."
Toruuk smirked at the thought of a particular elf dignitary that had visited the Stoneheart hall once, long ago, only to be literally laughed out of Torvull's court when he cowered in the face of a little threat display.

Still, it wasn't as though many 'Taurs spent time outside of Candenord, and outsiders rarely visited. Most folk didn't really know what they were all about; matter of fact, many people assumed that they were just simple brutes. That was, of course, far from the case.
"We Minotaurs value strength, but strength don't just come from how big and mighty you are, oh no. Ya gotta show yer mettle. Make my old man respect ya and you'll be golden. Flinch at your own peril."

By now Toruuk had carried the duo across the spire in its entirety, landing them in the streets of Yore proper. It wouldn't be long before they had arrived at the Grand Hall, where Torvull Stoneheart likely waited now.

 

[Fieravene]

"I see..."

Red eyes narrowed while she digested the advice. Fiera had suspected that the King of Minotaurs would respect strength and bravado, proving himself to be the epitome of minotaur culture with a crown. It was hard for smallfolk to make their mark among giants, but it had been done before and she would do it again. If the dark elf could stare down Aivrid the Unforgiving without so much as a flinch, then King Torvull should not be a problem.

"And what is the general opinion on magic in his Court?"

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

"Depends." The champion grunted, navigating his way through the streets of Yore. "Magic ain't looked down upon all the time. Pretty sure it's what keeps this place up in the air, after all...if it's useful, it's useful."

He snorted and cracked his neck, taking a bit of a pause to get his bearings. The layout of the city hadn't changed much, but it had been some time since last he'd been home.
"Stonehearts ain't too big on usin' it in combat, though. No honor in beatin' someone with magic that ya couldn't beat yourself. Unless you're both usin' magic, I guess."
He considered his fight with Maho. The vizier had ultimately used magic in their fight despite being told not to (the superheated punches had left some tender spots on Toruuk's abdomen), but the difference in strength was enough to warrant its use, he figured. It was more of an unspoken rule between warriors who were near equals. Toruuk's own distaste for mages had come from a slew of bad experiences with shifty wizards.

"Most o' the other clans disagree, but they ain't controlled Yore in a good, long while, so there's somethin' to be said for good ol' fashioned grit." He concluded. All the clans had magic of some sort, Stonehearts included, but his clan generally avoided using it in warfare. Except against Clan Earthhide, those sleazy bastards.

In time, Toruuk had located the building he had been searching for: a dome beneath a particularly large tower, one which bore many ancestral decorations and ancient, retired weapons hung upon its walls. The Grand Hall of Yore, the place where chieftans had reigned from for generations.
"Looks like we're here. Buckle up, buttercup." He said, kneeling momentarily to allow Fieravene to climb down with relative ease.

Toruuk pushed forward into the hall, beyond which a foyer containing many Stoneheart artifacts on display lied. A pair of guards nodded greetings to Toruuk and tapped the handles of their polearms against the stone floor, indicating that he and Fiera could pass. Beyond the foyer was a large, open room with a very long table at its center. The table was lined with seats large enough to fit the average Minotaur, and at the very far end was an enormous throne carved from rock, undecorated but imposing. In the throne sat an old, stern, grizzled looking bull, equally undecorated and speaking to a pair of compatriots on either side of the table. Chief Torvull awaited.

"Hey ya, old timer. Long time no see!" Toruuk shouted from the end of the room, casual as could be. Torvull stopped his conversation short and shifted in his seat, taking notice of his son and Fiera.

"Well, if it isn't our noble champion. Don't just stand at the door, get up here, boy." The old bull spoke in a gravelly voice and an irritable tone, squinting to see the duo from the distance they stood at. "And you've brought an outsider, I see. What's this about?"

 

[Fieravene]

Fiera slid down from his shoulder with relative grace, turning a bright look of wonder about her as she followed after him. Yore's architecture was quite different from anything she'd seen before - nevermind the fact that the entire ... island? floated above a massive ravine. She'd wondered about that and a host of magic keeping it aloft, thinking it curiously similar to the fabled dwarven city in the sky. Did their magic keep the island aloft or did it keep it from floating away?

Upon the entry of the tower and the approach of the King, the elf's attention honed in on the elder with a keen eye and a keener ear. Gruff and to the point, something she could appreciate. Fiera quietly followed after Toruuk, standing back respectfully as the pair greeted one another in their own way, and waited for an indication of her turn to speak.

"Toruuk and I met in Amol-Kalit some months ago and bonded over a shared sense of adventure. He's agreed to travel with me for a time and in return I agreed not to disrupt his visit to the Capital. Far be it from me to pass up the opportunity to meet the King of Minotaurs," the elf offered him a bow, "I am called Fieravene and it is an honor."

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

Toruuk beamed at his father as Fi introduced herself, hands on his hips and ever pleased to be travelling alongside her. Despite Clan Stoneheart's rough and combative nature and his father's general lack of a sense of humor, he was certain that Torvull come to appreciate Fi as he did. That said, the bull wouldn't be stepping in to speak for her; he knew that Fi didn't need a herald, and his old man would never respect her if he had to get between them.

Torvull, for his part, lowered his brow, narrowed his gaze on the dark elf, and chuffed loudly. He stood from his throne and looked down the bridge of his snout at the woman.
"I don't recall addressing you, smallfolk, and I am no king." Torvull stepped over to Fiera and directly into her personal space, puffing his chest out and asserting his size and dominance. It was practically a rite of passage to do so with any newcomers, be they 'taur or otherwise. "I wasn't born into my throne like so many 'noble' milksops. I took it for myself through blood and sweat, and I've held it for decades."

Toruuk subtly flashed Fiera a thumbs up from behind his father as the elder began his intimidation tactics. This was all par for the course.

"I am Chieftain Torvull Stoneheart of Clan Stoneheart," The elder continued, returning Fi's greeting. He leaned over slightly to ensure that she could see his stern gaze. "and yes, it is an honor."

 

[Fieravene]

Fiera had a momentary lapse of deja vu, except where the great Chieftan Torvull Stoneheart of Clan Stoneheart stood, there had been a dragon's skull large enough to swallow the bull whole. She remained where she stood, lean shoulders squared and red eyes flashing with mirth. The bluster had been expected, thanks in part to Toruuk's kind advice, and she waited for it to pass before speaking again.

She smiled, an expression of mettle that would sooner gut a dragon than melt under the bull's hot breath, "Forgive my slip of vocabulary, Chieftain, I am well traveled but unaccustomed to the dialect of the Minotaurs."

"For certain I do respect a leader who rises from his honorable throne to greet a guest," the elf quietly folded her arms at her back, head tilted back to look up at the Chieftain unflinching, "addressed or not, Toruuk knows not to speak for me. No one speaks for me. I took my voice for myself through blood, fire, and Oblivion and I've held it for centuries."

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

Torvull held his glare for a long, silent moment. Tension hung in the air, heavy and electric, before the chieftain glanced over to his son and his mug twisted into a wry grin.
"I like this one. Ballsy." The Stoneheart chief grunted shortly, then returned his attention to Fieravene.

"Alright then, Fieravene the Speaker. You're welcome in this hall for now." Torvull offered the dark elf a big, weathered mitt to shake, then moved to return to his throne. "Just try not to piss anyone off. Most of all, me."

Toruuk was beaming by this point, but as his father moved to pass him the older bull reached up and grabbed his son by the scruff of his neck, then yanked him down into a headlock and began roughly grinding his fist into the top of Toruuk's head. It might've looked a bit odd, especially given that Toruuk stood a good foot taller than Torvull did, and Toruuk did nothing to fight back beyond wriggle under his father's aggression.
"Would it kill you to send a letter ahead of you, boy?"

"Ahh, happy to see me after all, eh Pop? Lay off, will ya? Ya know you're happy to have any excuse to throw a banquet!" The younger bull retorted, grabbing at his elder's arms to keep the pressure off of his neck.

"I have half a mind not to throw a banquet at all! You spend months away without so much as a letter to your poor mother, and then you show up unannounced and expect a feast? You're lucky you have a guest with you!" Torvull snapped back, yanking Toruuk's head down towards the table.

"Yeah, yeah, yer still gonna throw one though, ya old horn-brained bastard!" Toruuk shot at his father. Despite the argument, there was no hostility in the mannerisms of either bull, and the other Minotaurs in the room didn't seem remotely fazed by the display. Their rough housing seemed like a normal part of their communication.

 

[Fieravene]

She might've only needed a single digit to shake for the size difference between them, but Fieravene was actively grateful for the massive Chieftain's control of strength. The elf smiled coolly after him as he went back about his official business: roughing up his son and making the mandatory familial remarks. It was nice, this was nice - a curious fresh breath of air when looking back on the long years of her life. Family welcoming family with the sting of warmth.

Where she came from family was tightly knit, but less like a warm and comfortable blanket and more like a cold and unyielding weave of chain-mail. Exceptionally difficult to break and damn near impossible to fix.

But that was neither here nor there.

Fiera waited politely for the two to have their private reunion, arms folded at the small of her back, Once it appeared they were done fussing with one another she lofted a brow at Toruuk, "Seems we have some time then?"

Time to meet more family, to see the grounds, to find some trouble.

 

[Toruuk Stoneheart]

The boisterous play and back-and-forth banter between the two bulls continued for a few minutes before Toruuk finally wriggled free of his father's headlock. The elder bull concluded with a punch to Toruuk's shoulder, which the prodigal son happily returned in kind. After all was said and done, Torvull made it clear that there was still some business that needed tending to with the other Minotaurs that had been patiently waiting at the table, so Toruuk led his dark elf companion from the hall.

"Seems to be," The champion agreed, wedging his pinkie into his ear and scratching about. "Anything in particular ya wanted to check out while yer' here? See tha sights or somethin'?"

His mother would likely want to see him as well before the banquet, but Candenordic taverns were something that he'd greatly missed in his time away from home. Plus, there were plenty of things about the city that Fieravene might take interest in. If there was anything in particular she wanted to get a look at, Toruuk was familiar enough with his home to lead her there.

 

[Fieravene]

"I should very much like to meet the mother that brought Toruuk Stoneheart, the Wandering Champion into this world..." Fiera fixed her friend with a smirk, "sight-seeing after."

It was good to get the lay of the land, but better to get a personal introduction to what equated to the leading figureheads of the nation. Even if his mother wasn't in a position of active leadership, behind every great King there was often a great Queen, or so they say.

"I'm curious ... how does courtship work for minotaurs?"