Chaos and uncertainty remain in the aftermath of the Balisekt War. With the Lands of Order in such a fragile state, the tribal races turn to Tranquility, their holy land, for guidance and stability. However, war has left the Temple more shaken than...
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For as much as Oakleaf found Kortath infuriating, he was also intriguing. In her lifetime, she'd had very few dealings with centaurs who weren't agents of the Temple, and those lived a very different life from the rest of their tribe. Most of what she knew of their culture came from rumors and stories. On the rare occasions she did interact with a centaur from Ironhoof, the wretchedness of the experience only served to validate those tales.
In many ways, Kortath was no different. The soldier was a thug, just like she would expect. He was brutish, insulting, and overall a bully. None of this came as a surprise. However, there was something about him she'd never considered before. Oakleaf always assumed, rather unfairly, that their brashness was coupled with a low level of intelligence. In her mind, physical strength was the last resort of those too dumb to think their way out of a problem.
Kortath was different. For all his flexing, for all his insults, he was actually very smart. He clearly understood Tri-leaf Law better than she would have anticipated and was astute to more in a conversation than just the spoken words. She'd hoped the day would never come where she'd find herself in battle with a centaur, but she never thought in a million years she'd be engaging in a battle of wits with one.
It was a long walk down the Tri-leaf Safe Road to Ironhoof, giving the elven priestess plenty of time to think about her current situation. All of her journeys gave her many hours to ponder on this or that, but analyzing Kortath gave her mind a break from the constant cycle of anger and revenge plotting she'd been unable to break free of. It was clear how he'd acquired his seat of power; all centaurs gained influence through fighting, but Kortath had a level of cunning to him that matched his brawn.
Dawn was upon them when they finally reached Ironhoof. The city was massive, with huts of straw and sticks stretching on through the trees in all directions. Flat, smooth stones were pressed into the ground, creating a web of small roads. Even in the early morning hours, these streets were alive with activity. Hooves clopped loudly against the hard surfaces as Ironhoof's citizenry went about its daily routine. Many had heavy bundles draped over their horse-like backs. Centaurs were a species of amazing strength. Though very few of their kind revered the Lady, history told that those who did were invaluable in the building of the Temple.
Business as usual seemed to stop when Kortath entered the city. All around him, many centaurs lowered their front legs and bowed their heads. Upon closer inspection, Oakleaf could see it was only the women making such a gesture. The men carried on as if nothing had changed. Only when he had passed did they rise again and continue with their normal routine.
"Why have you returned, Kortath?" a man asked him as he stepped onto the road. Oakleaf quickly observed how broad he looked. "Your patrol wasn't to change until..." His sentence trailed off when he noticed Oakleaf and those in her company. "What are all these creatures doing here?"
