“Be careful with the boxes!”
“That’s it, pull it up!”
“Ensign! Where in name of the Allfather do you think you’re going with a hole in your jacket?”
Frantic voices and accompanying sounds filled the fresh morning air as deers ran back and forward with haste around the ship’s deck: from within the hold a line of sailors carried boxes to the top under sight of an officer. At the back Captain Fyr was inspecting a row of sailors standing in attention and dressed in the bright blue uniforms of the Royal Olenian Navy. His harsh voice echoed far and wide. A level of stress was clearly present. After a near two month voyage, the HOMS Diplomati had arrived to Calafort, the first stop of the Grandeur Embassy. Everydeer knew they had to put forward their utmost best in the name of Olenia.
Korpi, as silent as ever, observed the ongoing events from the side. His task had not yet began and for now he had resigned to waiting. A yawn came forth from his mouth; this morning he had awoken early for a good wash, a thorough brushing and oiling his antlers. Not to mention warming his vocal chords for the work ahead. Uraeilge was definitely not his forte but it was a relatively simple language with its growls and yelps.
‘Even if it will ruin my throat for a week’ he worried.
A wave struck the clipper, causing it to shake slightly. Yet it had Korpi stumbling for a footing and, just barely, he managed to maintain balance. Once secure he groaned in frustration and looked down to his fully armored, cloak covered body.
“Blasted suit,” Korpi muttered under his breath. He hated how he was forced to wear the antiquated chainmail suit. It offered no real protection and just got in his way, constricting his movements while laying heavy against his frame. The axe and shield weighted heavy on his sides whenever he moved and the wooly cloak choked his neck. At the very least he didn't need to wear the blasted kettle. That had been a great relief. Overall the whole getup weighted down heavily on him both physically and mentally.
Yet there was no escape from wearing it. A royal decree was still a royal decree even if centuries old. Not to mention the chastisement he had received from Mother when he had voiced a complaint.
Korpi’s eyes roved off from the armour to his talisman resting on his chest. ‘Please give me strength to get through today,’ he prayed silently within his head. Once finished he lifted his head back up, right in front of the widely smiling face of Imela. Korpi yelped in surprise and took a step back, smacking his rear against the wooden brink.
“Seems like I caught you at a bad moment, dear,” Imela joyfully quipped as she straightened her neck up. Her antler jewelry jingled gently as her head tilted to right in conjunction with her inspecting gaze. She wore the Equestrian dress from last day but had added a blue dress cape over it, held up by a jeweled chain.
“You do certainly look ready—” Imela tapped Korpi’s antlers, “— even if these could use some shine. It’s a shame you don’t take full advantage of these beauties, dear. I know many deer who wished they had antlers as large as yours.”
Korpi could feel his cheeks redden in response and quickly shoved her hooves off. “Thank you but I… I don’t think anything would really fit me.”
“Are you sure? I have a pair of golden rings at my room that would just look dashing on you.” Imela locked eyes with Korpi but as the stag stood unflinching she simply huffed at him. “Then again, I guess there’s some beauty in simplicity.”
With that Imela turned to right and as she did so her hoof landed right over Korpi’s shoulders. “Now come along, it’s time to go.” — Imela stepped away and headed off — “Let us not keep our dear Captain and brave soldiers waiting.”
He simply sighed, made sure his shield and axe were secured, and followed.
As the pair cantered towards the ship’s stern, Korpi gave a glance over the port side towards the mainland. Forests stretched as far as his eyes could see, far across the hills and mountains looming over the quant village down by the shoreline. From this distance Korpi could barely see much of Calafort bar a simple palisade and what he believed to be large log buildings. Morning mist had blocked their vision for most part. In fact Captain Fyr had feared they’d need to wait for it to disperse but Vellamo had thankfully blown it away just an hour ago. Many thankful prayers had been uttered in response.
“Ah, Captain Fyr,” Imela’s voice rang out as she stopped few steps away from the Captain and the line of soldiers still being inspected. With him stood an officer, the same Luutnantti Korpi had seen lead yesterday’s toast. Though this time he remembered her name, Ulappa and knew she was Fyr’s adjutant.
There was, in total, eight soldiers with the two officers: each stag and doe stood at an attention stony-faced in their immaculate royal blue uniforms. The golden buttons and musket barrels gleamed in the morning sun with no stains in sight. Admirable presentation and worthy of praise.
“Lady ambassador, my lord,” greeted Captain Fyr courteously, bowing his head to both of them. Luutnantti Ulappa followed suit. Behind them Korpi spied a rowing boat, held up to the side with a pair of pulleys, being carefully loaded with the cargo.
As if in response Fyr gave a look over his shoulder. “As you can see the vessel has been prepared. All the gifts are accounted for and my crew—”
“My embassy, dear Fyr.”
Fyr stood in his place with unchanged expression bar for slight narrowing of eyes at smiling Imela. His Luutnantti failed to hide her emotions, frustration clearly visible on her face. Korpi admired her loyalty though knew it could backfire horribly if she didn’t pay attention.
“My apologies. Your embassy, lady ambassador, stands ready for the departure.”
Ime nodded back at Fyr though Korpi doubted she was being genuine. “Thank you, Captain Fyr. Your service, as always, is greatly appreciated.” Imela looked over solem Fyr and at the soldiers. “Let us not waste time then. Board the barge, my gentle deer.”
“Yes, lady ambassador!” shouted the crew in unison and, in orderly line, marched out. Imela slowly walked after the lot with Korpi trailing behind with heavy steps. As he passed Fyr and Ulappa he didn’t look at either. To him Imela had the matters under control. He’d gain nothing by sticking his nose into this matter after last day.
Ahead Imela, with help of an Ensign, graciously stepped into the boat. As the same deer was about to offer a hoof to him, Korpi simply shook head and jumped over. Even if he hated the armour he was not immobile in it. He had been trained in arts of combat, both ancient and modern: bit of extra weight would not tie him down. The boat swung right and left as he landed and, due to aforementioned weight, Korpi lost his footing and slammed his head hard against the bottom.
‘Should’ve gone with the helmet’, he contemplated while rubbing his muzzle. Korpi could hear stifled laughter close by but when he glared at the crew everyone wore a straight face. As he attempted to rise back up the boat shook again. He threw his head around to see Fyr and Ulappa looming over him.
Without a word Ulappa grabbed Korpi by his cape and pulled him back up. “Thank you,” said Korpi quietly to her though she gave no word back, instead gently pushing him towards the front where Imela was sitting already. Korpi stepped forth, giving a look at Luutnantti though she played innocent next to Fyr who had said nothing. When Korpi opened his mouth to respond a crackle rang out followed by a low screech of the pulleys — slowly yet steadily the barge descended down.
Korpi let the matter with Luutnantti go for now and sat down next to Imela. As he did so she immediately leant right over to him. “She is free, you know,” whispered Imela just loud enough so that her voice reached Fyr and Ulappa too. Korpi’s eyes turned at Imela who, seeing his pleading look, smiled sadistically like the Djavulen himself. “Don’t play innocent with me. Why else would you ask what her name was?”
Korpi wished he could hide to the furthest depth of Tuonela.
There was a small splash as the barge hit the ocean. In an instant it began to rock back and forth as waves hit its sides, its back dipping slightly down due to the extra weight of the gifts. An Ensign quickly unhooked the ropes off the side holes, freeing the boat from the larger vessel. From above a pair of long roars were lowered to the waiting hooves of the soldiers who right away used them to push away from the clipper before taking their positions by the center.
With slow but steady strokes the barge began to move towards Calafort.
“Are you nervous, Korpi?” asked Imela, catching him off-guard. In truth, he felt something undefined yet nagging within. He wished to hide it. So when he firmly shook his head, Imela looked at him with widened eyes. “No? Well that is for the best, dear. Just follow my lead: diplomacy is all about good impressions and manners. Everything will be fine as long as we follow the plan and nothing idiotic happens.”
That eased his pain a bit.
“Now, although you said you were fine—” Imela reached to a side pouch tied around her waist and from within pulled a small silvered flask, placing it onto his hooves, “— give this a try. It helps me when I need bit of encouragement.”
Korpi, bit suspicious, unscrewed the lid off the flask and sniffed the inside. It smelled bit like a strawberry drenched in ethanol. He turned towards Imela who just motioned him to taste it. When Korpi did just so, though taking just a sip, he was greatly surprised just how delicious it was. Even if bit too strong as he couldn’t resist coughing.
He tried to pass the drink back to Imela but she just smiled and shook her head. “I think you’ll need it more than I today. Just promise keep your head clear, okay? That strawberry liquor is meant to inebriate a griffon so watch your drinking.”
Korpi nodded to her and stowed the flask inside a secret pocket sewn to his cloak.
Next ten minutes passed in an odd silence with the steady rows and rhythmic puffs from the working Ensigns filling the morning atmosphere. A calm breeze was ever present, blowing through the rank of deers with its chilly bite, but it began to calm down as they approached the distant pier. Calafort was no true port: it had the bearings of a village more so than a proper township. At least when compared to Olenia or rest of the civilized world.
‘I’ll have to remember to note these’, Korpi mentally noted, observing the village as whole before turning back towards the pier. Just then he noticed them standing there: three large bears, clad in strangely colourful green-blue dresses, towered at the end of the wooden platform, glancing straight towards them. As the barge approached closer Korpi could see that two of them stood back whilst the largest with ashen fur and some sort of necklace with strange beads tied—
Korpi felt a lump in his throat as he gagged in horror.
From the necklace hung a neat row of changeling horns, laying heavy against the giant neck.
“Well, that’s one grisly trophy,” muttered Imela. When Korpi looked at her in horror she gave him a reassuring smile and a pat on his shoulder. “Remember, follow my lead and we’ll be fine. Trust me, dear Lehto.”
The boat struck against one of the supporting beams with a loud thud. Immediately, two of the soldiers jumped over while biting the thick ropes and began to tie the boat to the pier. Other Ensigns jumped off to help their comrades to keep the vessel steady. One quite young doe offered a hoof to Imela who graciously accepted the help. Korpi, begrudgingly and wishing to avoid further mistakes, grabbed the helping hoof too. The planks beneath groaned in agony as he took cautious steps. Yet it was nothing compared to the destructive crackling that sounded out as the three bears approached them.
Now that they were up close, Korpi, with a keen eye, examined them: in truth he had only seen pictures of bears and never actually met a real living one. These three towered over all the deer, even Imela who was by deer standards large. Each of the bears, at least when they stood on their two legs, were twice as tall and wide as any of them and appeared quite bestial in their manners. Long fangs peaked out of their mouth whilst their huge pawns swayed side to side, seemingly ready to crush any foe on their path. Korpi doubted if even a volley could stop one of these beings if they got angry.
The one wearing the necklace stopped but a step away from them all, just before Imela and Korpi, glaring down upon the duo with an indecipherable look. His, or her, black beady eyes stared right at them whilst not uttering a word. Sudden clarity dawned upon Korpi as he finally realized in what situation he truly was: an actual crucial diplomatic situation where he was entrusted with communicating between the two races. There was no room for error. That frightened him dearly.
Imela, with a demure smile, tipped her head to the leading bear. “May the winds blow eternally in your favour,” she began with a traditional greeting. Initially the bears had stared at her but when Korpi began to translate they shifted their gazes at him, much to his chagrin.
“My name is Imela Vuorimaa and I am the leader of this fair embassy.” she said to the supposed leader. The bear responded with a silence but that did not seem to bother her. “We have come to speak with your leader on matters between your great clan and my sovereign. You did receive our messengers earlier this year, correct?”
“Yes, many months ago,” the bear finally said with a heavily guttural tone Korpi found near impossible to understand. It sounded like it was painful for him or her to speak, though he doubted if that was truly the case. Regardless, the bear looked away from him and pointed at the boxes being dutifully unloaded by the Ensigns.
“What are those?”
“These—” Imela threw her hoof at the cargo piling on the pier,”—are gifts from His Majesty to Clan Wellington to showcase the wonderful craftworks we deer can do and our desire for a friendship between our communities. But may I ask to your name, noble bear?”
“I am Khari of Clan Wellington,” responded Khari, Korpi finally deciphering this bear had to be male due to the structuring of his speech, ”and I guard this place. You deer will come with me to meet Chieftain. We will take the gifts.”
As he finished Khari gave a look to the two other bear and pointed to the gift hoard. Without a word, the bears prowled past the deer towards the unloaded boxes whilst Khari motioned for Imela and Korpi to follow. The two of them looked at each other briefly before Imela stepped forward to follow Khari. Korpi along with rest of the embassy followed after their ambassador towards the looming village.
Imela leant over to Korpi on her side. “See now, dear? Nothing to worry about,” she whispered with an overbearing confidence.
“Sorry if I won’t share your self-confidence but you haven’t actually talked to their leader yet,” replied Korpi, his eyes locked at Khari who was looking back at them likely because they were talking. “Who knows what could—”
“Oh hush now, dear Lehto. Are you doubting my oral skills so overtly?”
“...no. I apologize, that was out of line.”
“Duly accepted.”
A gruff growl above the pair made them look up to Khari. The bear was pointing at Korpi with what he thought to be a suspicious look. “Why do you wear that?”
Korpi blinked in surprise before yelping back, “I am sorry but what do you mean?”
“That armour, why do you wear it? You are not a warrior.”
That statement made Korpi blink even more and fluster slightly. “Well, I am required by… by an order? Yes, by an order to wear this at official ceremonies. Since I am son of a Jarl and therefore will be Jarl too.”
“But why? You are not a warrior,” replied Khari before moving the pointed paw off him and towards the Ensign marching behind under observation of Fyr and Ulappa. “They are warriors. Why don’t they wear armour and you their good clothes?”
“They…” he began but found it hard to convey what he meant. One bad aspect about Uraeilge was the limited vocabulary in regards to terms: Korpi doubted Khari and the other bears had understood even half of what Imela had said, even when he had attempted to apply them to fit Uraeilge terms.
“Those warriors,” he rebegan, “are wearing those clothes because they are ordered so. Like I am ordered to wear this armour. I cannot explain it any other way.”
Khari stared back at Korpi good few second before breathing out loud, his breath crystalizing in the morning air. “You deer are strange. Not warriors are dressed like warriors while warriors are dressed like not warriors.” With that Khari turned away, ending the conversation.
An impatient hoof poked Korpi’s side and he glanced at Imela looking at him with a questioning face. “What did you two talk about? Something important?”
“No, nothing important.” Korpi shook his head. “He just had a question. It’s doubtful if my answer was of any use to him.”
The wooden path finally ended, and Korpi let out a sigh of relief as his hooves hit solid ground. Despite his enjoyment of the waves and the ship, he was glad for something to stand on that didn’t rock every which way constantly. The rest of the deer crew sounded glad prayers once their legs touched the pure dirt, but Luutnantti Ulappa was quick to holler the soldiers back to parade formation. Her shouts had the gift bearing bears laughing and, from what Korpi could hear, joking about her being a bear in disguise.
As Korpi looked around the shoreline he took note there really weren’t many boats around. That is if one could call simple tied-up rafts a seafaring vessel. Instead, littered throughout the village’s shore, there stood racks from which hung row after row of sharpened spears. Most had their tips dyed in dried blood. Despite his earlier horror at the trophy, this discovery did not elicit gagging from him as he knew the bears to be omnivores. Many others, however, did not know this and when he turned around many of the Ensigns, even while stone-faced, had colour drained from their coats.
The packed dirt pathway Khari walked on went straight towards a square by the backend of Calafort. Most of the meagre buildings were a mixture of wood and stone, with boulders used as basis for the thick logs laid over each to form walls. Oddly enough, Korpi noted how the buildings stood strangely short. The tallest barely stood as tall as Khari on two legs, which made him ponder if the bears simply walked on fours indoors.
“Korpi, dear,” spoke Imela suddenly to his side, “don’t you think it’s oddly quiet?”
It took a moment to register what she had said, but when it dawned upon him, he realized that they had not seen any other bears within the village. The shock of this revelation was perhaps bit too revealing since Imela swiftly patted him on the shoulder and, with a smile, said, “Calm down and keep your eyes open. Be ready for anything.”
Korpi nodded back and fixed his appearance. He breathed in and out, composing himself. In the village proper, its musky, earthen smell mixed with the scents of the salty sea. The salt Korpi could understand but the soily odor piqued his interest. He smelt the air and located the source beyond the buildings. As an opening came to view, Korpi glanced through it at a toiled patch filled with tall thorny bushes bearing but few crimson berries.
“You like raspberries?”
Korpi blinked his eyes and turned towards Khari. “You grow berries here?” he asked from the bear while pointing at the garden.
“Yes. Potatoes too. Why is it surprising?”
‘Guess even somedeer like Professor Bengda can be wrong, Korpi pondered as he looked at Khari; as far as Korpi had been briefed the bears were but a tribal folk that lived off from foraging and hunting ‘like any other beast’. Yet here they were, growing fruit and vegetables, even if at a small scale. It still was a discovery that warranted great attention — and as the writer for this expedition Korpi was to document this all.
Information that would be greatly appreciated back home.
Korpi grinned at the bear. “No, not surprising. I just wasn’t aware you could grow berries this far north without the aid of the spirits.” It was no lie; back home his family’s fields needed annual rejuvenation to operate in their northern domain.
Khari stared back at the smiling deer before shrugging, seemingly losing interest. The end of their conversation had them arriving at the square. Korpi thought that the term plaza would be more accurate, as it was the size of an ice rink, though rounder in shape. Although, as far he knew, no arena or town square for that matter had a large hole dug into its center. This did not go unnoticed from the rest who too looked at it in curiosity.
Imela leant over to Korpi. “Do you know what that is for, dear?”
As they passed by it he reached to glance at the bottom, over the crude fence around. It was not really deep, about eight syli give or take, with no real markings anywhere though the pit floor was covered in sand unlike the earthen walls. The ground on the sides looked heavily stampeded. Something was nagging him though he couldn’t pin down what it was. For now he pulled back his head and looked at Imela’s waiting expression before saying, “No clue, I think it’s an arena of sorts. Maybe for plays or such events?”
A growl from ahead had the duo turn their attention back forward. Khari stood ahead, waiting for them at the footsteps of an enormously wide log hall, its timber walls painted with sky blue paint. A basic chimney was centered on the roof and from it rose a steady pillar of smoke. Carved wood totems depicting unknown things stood around the building at fixed intervals, each with intricate and unique designs that were crafted well enough that their age could only be seen from up close.
“Do not keep Chieftain waiting. Come,” ordered Khari as he held the door open. Without hesitation Imela stepped forth, patting the dirt off of her gown’s hem before entering. Korpi followed her, though as soon as his hoof was about land inside, a paw fell in front of his face.
“Weapons stay outside.”
This order from Khari, even without translation, was immediately clear and was met with scorn from Captain Fyr. He trotted to the bear and gave him a glare. “Surely this is not needed. Our soldiers are perfectly trained—”
“Weapons stay outside, deer.” grumbled Khari to him. Korpi could see Fyr narrow his eyes at the bear, but only Ukko knew just why he was trying to pick an argument with a being thrice his size. Especially since Khari didn’t even understand what he was saying. In response Ulappa stepped to side of her Captain, resting hoof on her sword pommel. Seemingly in counter the two other bears with them put down the gifts and flanked the deer. The Ensigns uneasily rubbed their gun stocks, unsure just how to act in this situation as the bears eyed them up and down with indifferent expressions.
Korpi turned to the Captain and his adjutant to give them a chilly look. He knew Captain Fyr was absolutely sick of taking orders, and it seemed to affect his judgement greatly, causing him to put his pride before common sense.
Therefore, Korpi felt he had to step in. “Captain,” he began, earning a glare from Ulappa in the process. “I think it would be best to follow their request. We should not cause trouble.”
The Captain huffed in response. “My lord, please translate this to them.” Fyr did not break his eye contact with Khari. The bear seemed just about done with this whole affair but this fact did not seem to reach the stag in question. “I am under orders to ensure the safety of this embassy. I understand your desire to protect your village and Chieftain. But as a fellow soldier I hope you could, at the very least, allow me and my adjutant to keep our weapons.”
Korpi simply stood by in silence, wondering what was wrong with this stag... yet at the same time his request was not outrageous. It was Fyr’s task to guard this embassy, therefore he was well in his right to request that. Guards everywhere in the known world were expected to be armed and this was understood in diplomatic situations as an unfortunate necessity. Accidents, after all, used to be a prone event.
Luckily for Korpi, Imela stuck her head back outside before he needed to make a decision. “Captain Fyr, please relinquish our weapons to mister Khari and his subordinates. Let us not keep the Chieftain waiting.”
Fyr cantered his head towards Imela and opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing as their eyes met. Even Korpi shivered a bit as he looked the unfiltered, cold hatred which Imela directed at the poor Captain. Fyr looked at Khari, gave one last huff and, with a slight hesitation, placed his sword still in scabbard to the waiting paw. Ulappa and rest of Ensigns did the same at an equal reluctance. Korpi simply didn’t care and happily gave the extra weight away before trotting past Khari inside, now axe-less.
As he entered Korpi made two discoveries.
First, the insides of bear lodges weren’t small. At all. Before his eyes opened up a vast hall, set up into multiple layers that descended down in an angle towards an open floor at the bottom some thirteen syli below. Oaken beams kept the roof at its place, arching at the top to fit the domed shape.
‘They dug their dwellings below ground!’ he thought in bliss.
Second, he now knew where every bear was as a mass of beady eyes now stared right at him. Bears of all shapes and sizes, colours and shades, filled the place to brim. Yet it was utterly silent bar his own scant gasp. Korpi’s mind locked down as he could do nothing but stare back at the crowds.
A touch from his behind brought him back, thankfully. “My lord,” whispered Fyr right into his ear. “you better head down after ambassador.”
‘After her?’ Korpi moved his gaze away from the masses, scanning the place for his large leader. It was not a hard task. He found Imela making her way down the earthen ramp and towards the grand firepit bellowing at the center. With a haste Korpi made his way to her, trying best to ignore the onlookers.
Now he craved for a drink.
Imela had stopped at the bottom. As he made it to her side she gave him a brief look and usual cocky smile before bowing her head towards the fire. At least that was what he thought initially before he looked up. Beyond the flames, on the opposite side of the firepit, stood a platform on which sat a bear unlike he had seen so far. As imposing as Khari had initially been, it was nothing compared to the being before him now. The Chieftain was intimidating. Old scars trailed through their frame, only partially covered by a green-blue dress similar to what the others wore. However her clothes were kept up by an ornate golden belt in contrast to the simple cloth straps others had. In the eyes Korpi saw a glitter of wisdom brought only by age. Like with Khari, Korpi, in the name of Allfather, could not decide on their gender: Chieftain was a gender-neutral title.
Imela, with her head still down, said, “I greet you, mighty Chieftain, on the behalf of our illustrious and magnanimous majesty King Voltar, Third of His Name, Ruler of Olenia. May the winds blow eternally in your favour.“ Imela lifted her head back up, giving time for Korpi to grovel out the words.
The Chieftain addressed kept staring at Imela and Korpi noted she met the gaze unflinching. “My name is Imela Vuorimaa, Duchess of Vuorimaa, Member of Riksdag and Ambassador of the Grandeur Embassy representing His Majesty and Kingdom of Olenia.”
She briefly paused, letting Korpi speak out the words as they had practised.
Ah, but I nearly forgot! On my right,” —Imela pointed at Korpi who lowered his head— “and the one who speaks your language, is Lord Korpi Lehto, son of Jarl Berttaria Lehto of Elksburg, an educated translator from Kuninkaallinen Akatemia and esteemed servant of Ukko.”
She then looked over her shoulder as rest of the embassy joined the duo. Fyr, with Ulappa but a step behind, took place next to Imela. “This fine stag on my left is Captain Fyr from the Royal Olenian Navy and in command of my fair vessel.”
The Chieftain finally broke eye contact with Imela as Khari and his bears pushed their way through the Ensigns, their pawns full of the gifts. As soon as the boxes were laid before the platform Korpi realised that the Chieftain was not alone on it: shadows moved and whispers in Uraeilge resonated from their behind. It did not seem to bother the Chieftain as they nodded to Khari who, along with the two others, backed away out of Korpi’s sight.
“I am Chieftain Tuathla, ruler of Calafort and chieftain of Clan Wellington.” The voice that rang out was surprisingly soft. It too was bit raspy but Korpi wondered if that was just universal for their species. Regardless she, now that he knew her sex, looked back at Imela with a relaxed expression. “You are all welcome to sit by my fire and share my fish.”
The hall burst out to life with those words. Deafening roars and stamping of paws had the ground trembling enough to make the building itself shake. Korpi was instantly caught off-guard by this sudden swing in mood and atmosphere but he was not alone as Imela, Fyr and rest of the deer too looked around in a surprise at the celebrating bears. Yet it took only for Tuathla to lift her paw to cast silence back to the room.
With the same paw she motioned for Imela to come closer whilst addressing hall with, “Share your seats with the guests. Don’t let anybody say Clan Wellington doesn’t treat its visitors. Bring the food! Bring the mead!”
The rejoicing began with even more vigour though the deer, except for Korpi, did not understand why and the cheers drowned his attempts to translate. Suddenly most of the ensigns were pulled away by eager bears and planted down across the multiple layers, food and drink served at their gaping mouths. Ulappa yelled for the soldiers to reform ranks but she, along with Fyr, were both lifted up by Khari who somehow had snuck upon them.
In this ongoing chaos Korpi took his chance and took a gulp from the flask. This time he did not cough, instead enjoying the burning yet sweet taste. He needed this. The relaxing moment was cut short by a well planted smack on back from Imela. “Come now. Seems like we will be sharing seats with the Chieftain,” she spoke before dragging the stag along with her. He could see there was a familiar glitter in her eyes. “Good that you keep your mouth fresh. There’s much to discuss and showcase, dear.”
“Ukko, grant me strength,” Korpi muttered under his breath and took a final deep gulp.
Thankfully it wasn’t as bad as he had feared. As both climbed up onto the stage Tuathla sat upon and took their positions time began to fly as food and drinks were placed before them. Thankfully, despite talk of fish, they were served completely green servings: assortment of berries mixed with roots and dressed in honey. Mead was delightfully sweet. Not as good as the liquor but it was passable. Most of Korpi’s time was taken by the small talk Imela and Tuathla indulged in. It soon came apparent this day was meant just for celebration. Political discussions could wait until tomorrow. Imela had taken this gracefully fitting for her character though Korpi noted she still didn’t lower her guard even if she masked it with jokes and laughter.
During the talks Tuathla introduced the other bears on the stage to them, as the trio stepped closer Korpi noted they shared same ashen fur Tuathla wore. His assumptions were correct as the three turned out to be her children. Oldest, and closest to an adult, was Niall who had gained the right to wear the clan colours this summer. His sister Cara, two summers younger and about as tall as Imela, spoke with a bit of a lisp, but seemed otherwise bright. Last one was but a cub though a peculiarly curious one with a mighty bite as Korpi discovered personally. All showed interest in him, badgering him on with questions about deer, Olenia and especially about his antlers though Niall and Cara refused to believe he couldn’t change shapes since ‘the bugs could do so with theirs’.
The rest of the crew took to the party in earnest, and despite the language barrier, seemed to mingle well with their hosts. Earlier anxiety had given way for copious amounts of drinking, though Korpi saw a few hold back. Amongst those were Ulappa and Fyr who kept a close eye on the Ensigns scattered around. Korpi wondered just how seriously those two took their lives but smiled once he saw Khari smack the duo on their backs, pushing new drinks onto their hooves. Fyr took it begrudgingly but did indulge in the mead. Much to his surprise, just for a brief moment, he even saw Ulappa sigh and smile at her mug.
“You know, dear,” whispered Imela suddenly into his ear. “it is not nice to stare at a doe like that. Quite scandalous, in fact.”
He simply rolled his eyes before looking at her in frustration. Imela just grinned back and stood up, in process lowering her head to observing Tuathla. “I thank you for your hospitality so far, lady Tuathla. Truly a dinner worth its praise!”
“Tuathla is just fine.”
Imela giggled in response. “Truly? Then my good Tuathla—” She looked at rest of the hall. “—and you other good folk of Calafort! Please, lend me your eyes and ears! For I will now showcase what makes our fair Olenia grand and us deer great!”
Whilst Korpi shouted out the translation, she approached the first box and pushed the top open with ease, revealing what was inside: countless items created with love and care by the best deer of Olenia.
“These are the gifts from King Voltar and his subjects to you, Tuathla, and all of Clan Wellington.”
It was a tremendous hoard: a full set of silverware encrusted in gems fit for a banquet, a grand chalice made from tough northern spruce, dried spices from the distant Zebrica, racks of Kruunun Koskenkorva -spirit, swords and axes smothered in gold, toys from the famed Billund Workshop, a pristine Hassel camera along with its iconic stand, a complete sauna construction kit, gold and silver commemorative riskdalers for His Majesty’s 50th reigning year, traditional skis made to fit bear paws and universally loved salmiakki candy. All this just from the first crate.
The list went on and on as minutes slipped by. It all was just very pretty tat in Korpi’s opinion but it did the trick by aweing the room, as far as he witnessed. Or, rather, remembered. The whole ordeal was especially tedious for him, even if his whole reason to be there was to talk. Not to mention his straining vocal chords. Plus he already knew the gift ledger from front to back: nothing that came out was surprising to him, even if he had to act so. At least he had his liquor, even if it was starting to drying up.
“And now—” Imela shouted, her voice echoing around the room and over the lesser conversations. Hours had already passed yet she still kept talking, not pausing for any breaks. By now only few paid attention and most barely noted the ongoings at this point. It was just trinkets, after all. Korpi translated just for Tuathla and her kin who still seemed interested. Youngest still chewed on the rubber ball Imela had thrown at him earlier, practically laying over it. “—I wish to showcase the masterful work, done by the master craftsdeer from Lahti factory. Behold!”
She lifted up a rifle.
The reaction was instant: as soon as the gun was revealed multiple bears rose up across the room. Some approached Imela but froze under Tuathla’s glare. Tension had by now shifted in the room and the earlier voices had fallen quiet as eyes locked onto the weapon at display: bears with either curiosity or suspicion, deer universally with worry.
Korpi, knowing his part, waited.
“Imela,” addressed Tuathla the deer in question, doing her best to pronounce the name correctly. Her face bore no particular expression besides for curiosity. “no one is allowed to bring weapons of war inside this hut. Why do you break this trust?
With a grace Imela bowed to the Chieftain. “My greatest apologies. I assure you my intentions are pure and earnest.” Whilst Korpi translated out loud for the entire room her face rose back up whilst she lowered the gun just slightly, enough for the weapon to glitter against the raging fire. “It is a weapon, true, but it is also a gift from His Majesty. Surely no one can deny our right to showcase beauty such as this?”
No one in the room could argue back: the held-up musket looked anything but normal. Its pristine barrel was greatly detailed with symmetrical carvings. The stock came from a blessed birch the royal grove, a holy site located inside the royal castle Harald’s Hold. The wood was inlaid with gold and silver from forend to butt where the lines formed the Antlered Head, the crest of Jelzek dynasty. Truly, a work of art. Yet it wasn’t the cosmetics that interest Korpi the most as the base design had been further modified. The trigger had been enlarged and lacked a guard whilst the fire mechanism, it too larger than usual, was an older flintlock type instead the standard caplock. He had known there was a gun amongst the gifts but had assumed it to be just a showcase gun. Not a—
“Yes, my good folk. Let your eyes lay upon this wonderful firearm, created by the famed Lahti gunsmiths.” She turned around, giving everyone a full view of the object. “And your eyes do not deceive you for this is the first rifle in the whole world created just for bears!”
This generated a great buzz in the room, whispers and mutters echoing around the masses. Warriors such as Khari were most vocal though whenever it was positive or negative was debatable. It was not, Korpi noted thankfully, hostile. Or at least not overtly so.
“I see and hear murmurs in the room. Is there someone, a bear or a deer, who doubts the quality presented?” shouted Imela at the crowds, appearing greatly offended at the murmurs. This did the trick for as Korpi told the words the last whispers were uttered. After savouring the peace for a moment, Imela’s eyes scanned throughout the hall, the rifle still looming over her head.
“Now, I am no liar but I do think a demonstration is in order,” she spoke as her eyes finally froze, with her gaze focusing on one specific deer. “Captain Fyr, would you be so kind as to aid me in this?”
Korpi could see him freeze on the spot, more so as ever bear and deer in the room now looked upon him. Yet it did not utterly confuse the Captain as he passed his mug to the nearby Khari and rose up. Korpi could see Ulappa open her mouth in protest but Fyr beat her to it, giving the doe a look that shut her down instantly. Once Fyr weaved his way down to the bottom Imela already stood by waiting, rifle and ammunition box at hoof. Without a word she passed them to Fyr and, just for a moment, Korpi swore sparks flew between their eyes.
‘Just fire playing tricks’, he hoped, for all their sake.
As Fyr inspected the weapon, Imela flung herself around like it was all theatre. “Now then,” she began and looked over to Tuathla. “I know I am in no right but could I request some sort of armor or target for this event? Preferably the toughest you have around.”
Tuathla simply looked at the crowds. “Do as she says.” she ordered and right away many bears flew into action. Meanwhile Imela made her way back to the stage and over to her seat.
“Do you think this is wise?” whispered Korpi to her as she sat down.
“Oh I think he will do just fine. Even he understands what is at stake.”
He looked at her in confusion before sighing. “No, not that. I mean the gun. I thought for a moment they’d jump on you and then on us all. What would’ve we done then?”
“But they did not, dear. All is going according to our plans.” She giggled a bit to herself. “It is all but a fine play.”
“Imela,” he began, in clear agitation, and actually got her to look at him. “this is no game. You cannot—”
Korpi was cut short as Imela leant closer and sniffed his face. Just the action got him to freeze in surprise. She then looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Korpi, you reek of alcohol. How much have you been drinking?”
In truth Korpi felt ditzy but had not noted it until now. When he gave no answer she rolled her eyes in clear frustration.“We will talk about this later. You can still do your task?” As he nodded her expression softened just a bit. “Good. Now then, let us watch the demonstration, hmm?”
Korpi, thoroughly ashamed, did so. By now some bears had carried into the hall sometype of a scrappy stand from which hung a set of armour. its design was unknown to Korpi but it reminded him of his own with the chainmail shirt. Of course, his wasn’t tent sized. Perhaps as a precaution a wide wooden panel had also been brought and placed right behind the armour. Korpi wondered whenever this was because the bears knew about black powder or because they wanted to be cautious. Fyr stood by waiting at an attention, gun at hoof whilst the ammunition box was laid on the floor besides him.
Imela straightened herself before shouting, “Now then, please begin your demonstration, Captain.”
“Yes, lady ambassador,” uttered Fyr, neither maliciously or benignly, and began the drill.
First, he opened the pan and only then pulled back the hammer that’d strike down to create a spark. In truth Korpi had never operated a flintlock — at home he had shot but few times with a caplock rifle and at Akatemia he had failed to enter the pistol club — so he only knew what he had heard. Flintlock was already considered antiquated, only used by the general populace and bailiffs.
Korpi shook his head and focused back at the event. Fyr had now taken out from the ammunition box… a powder flask and a case of bullets. Korpi stared at this in astonishment: why wasn’t the ammunition contained in simple cartridges? They were easy to use and operate more so than carefully pouring the black powder from a flask. When he looked at the scene carefully he came to a realisation.
It was all just for the looks. Much like the gun itself the powder horn too was a carefully crafted art piece, gold and silver etched into the copper container strengthened with steel. Even the bullet box was finely finished with axe symbols carved to its top. Clearly meant to pray for valour in battle. Korpi doubted whenever the bears would even care for such detail.
While he contemplated, he still did care to watch as Fyr maintained his procedure. He had carefully poured the gunpowder to the pan and flipped it shut before lowering the gun down so the muzzle was at his eye level. Everything was done with clear punctuality and precision. Fyr took the flask and filled in, what Korpi assumed to be, an adequate amount of gunpowder before pushing in a bullet. Even though there was no cartridge to push in, Fyr still jammed the ramrod down into the barrel, likely to make sure the powder and shot had hit the bottom.
Under the ever watchful eyes the Captain lifted up the rifle and assumed the firing position: sitting down and holding the stock against right shoulder while using left hoof to steady the barrel. Fyr shifted a bit on spot, likely looking for a good position, before pulling back the hammer to the firing spot. He then checked his aim and let his hoof slide slide up along the grip.
Korpi covered his ears as Fyr pulled the trigger.
A flash of light shone and thunderous sound rang out through the room as the black powder exploded, the gun spewing out flames and smoke. Thick smell of gunpowder filled the air, even beating the smog caused by the fire. Nearly everyone in the room blinked and groaned instinctually at the explosion, bar for the deer and those others who had witnessed a musket before. As seconds passed and everything calmed down the only sound heard was the armour, spinning around as there was now a clear whole in its center. Bullet had stopped at the back panel but even then had dug deep.
Silence lasted for a brief moment before, out of the blue, a gleeful laughter filled the room. Korpi was briefly confused but then noticed it was Tuathla’s youngest child. The cub was sitting on top of his ball laughing out loud and clapping his paws together. It was followed by Niall and Cara who too began clapping, with the eldest roaring out happily. Tuathla too joined. That broke the ice and every bear and deer in the room was either clapping or roaring in praise of Fyr who, during all this, stood by somberly with a fixed expression.
“Bravo, bravo, well done, Captain Fyr!” shouted Imela over the roars and thumps. As the clapping began to die down she stood up and pointed at Fyr below. “Anyone who wishes to try out this magnificent weapon then please don’t hesitate at all. Captain Fyr has graciously offered to demonstrate and showcase the firing to anyone willing. So please, do try out the weapon. It is a gift, after all.”
Fyr stood by, his mouth agape as he heard her words as throughout the room bears stood up and headed his way. Amongst the crowd Korpi noticed that both Niall and Cara had also went ahead to test out the weapon. Youngest had tried to walk off too but had been quickly grabbed back by Tuathla, laying the little rascal to her lap. Before Fyr got to say a word back to Imela the first bear had already arrived, eagerly looking at the stag who clearly had not known about the supposed arrangement.
“I suppose that was for yesterday?” asked Korpi from Imela once she sat down.
She simply gave him a wink and a sly grin.
“I have to say, Imela,” spoke out Tuathla, grabbing both Korpi’s and Imela’s attention. The bear kept looking at Fyr who was now guiding the bears through the reloading process. “this weapon is good. No, it is great.”
“But of course! Nothing less could do and His Majesty, as do his subjects such as me, wish to put forward our best,” Imela cheerfully responded.
Another explosions rang out though this time it was followed by gleeful shouts and stamping. As Fyr took the weapon back Korpi spied him grimace, even if the stag tried his best to hide it. Somehow, though likely due to who he was, Niall had made it to the front and eagerly took the gun from Fyr.
Tuathla turned to meet Imela’s gaze and her overbearing smile. “How many weapons can your smiths make?”
“Oh, that depends on multiple things, I suppose. Manufacturing, amount, payment.” Imela shifted a bit closer to Tuathla, making the planks beneath creak slightly. “But I think we can come to an agreement. After all—” She patted the cub on Tuathla’s lap who giggled in response. “—with these guns it will be easier to defend your clan.”
The bear said nothing back, instead petting her child and seemingly lost in her thoughts. Meanwhile another shot was fired, ruining the chainmail even further — a piece of the armour fell down to the ground, causing the riveted metals to scatter all around. The bears were ecstatic. After Niall came his sister Cara though she seemed to need encouragement from those around.
“Tomorrow.” Tuathla finally glanced back at smiling Imela. “We shall talk tomorrow about a trade for these weapons.”
Imela bowed deep before her. “So we shall. But do tell—”
The world was engulfed in blinding white light for a brief moment as an explosion tears through the peaceful moment. A brutal roar of destruction sent the room into growls and cries of panic.
Korpi rubbed his eyes, fighting against the blindness. His vision returned to the sight of bears stumbling around the fire pit. Some laid on the ground, many others were being helped up. A massive white cloud laid thick in the air. It smelt awful. He saw Fyr coughing rapidly, standing back up and rubbing his ears. Elsewhere in the room he heard Ulappa shout out to the Captain before running past the stunned crowd to his aid. Khari and other sturdy ones began shouting orders to help.
As the cloud began to dissipate and the center of explosion was seen Tuathla rose up.
“Dear Gods…” whispered Imela, mouth agape.
Next to the destroyed gun laid motionless Cara, fur now black like coal, with Niall pushing her weakly. As if trying to wake her up. The young bear looked in utter confusion at his sister. Close by Fyr, now with regained senses, gingerly stepped towards the smoking weapon. Then, with a grand roar Niall threw himself at Fyr and clawed at the unsuspecting stag’s face. The blow lifted stag off his legs for a second though it was not enough to knock him down. Fyr screamed out loud, grabbing his now bloodied cheeks. Ulappa screamed too and tried to move past the blocking onlookers.
In other parts of the room the Ensigns rose up in response but as they did so too did the bears next to them. In clear anger most grabbed any deer they could. Few even choked the Ensigns in their grabs. Some deer managed to evade capture though even then it was out of fear and desperation: without their weapons they could do nothing against the hulking beasts.
Niall, still roaring in hatred, rushed over to Fyr and slammed against his side, finally downing the deer and pinning him against the dirt. Fyr covered his face but to no avail as Niall began to slash up and down at the stag, mutilating one leg from knee and crushing the other. Korpi had never seen so much blood. Ground beneath slowly turned from brown to red. Ulappa leaped from the side and threw herself at Niall but that did nothing to stop the large bear, too focused on sobbing Fyr.
Korpi sat by stunned.
Imela tried to shout out something but no one listened. Tuathla had jumped down and was pushing towards her children. The young cub left behind was crying in confusion. Ulappa was forcibly dragged away by Khari though she trashed against her bounds.
Fyr’s voice had fallen silent by now.
Whole world had gone mad before Korpi’s eyes. Yet he knew he had to do something. His brain scrambled into action: he tried remember anything, that could solve this issue. Something that would make this all stop. He thought about the lectures from Professor Bengda on northern bear culture. He tried to remember all the lessons on diplomacy from Imela. He wondered what Mother would do.
His mind drew blank.
So he tried out something different — he thought about the language Uraeilge, going through its phrases, idioms, hidden meanings and social rules. As he did so something began to nag him, especially from the very first initial lessons. Something about what say and not to say, if he remember Professor Bengda’s words correctly.
Then it hit him. He knew what to do.
Korpi took a deep breath and, with all of his strength, let out a mighty roar. He stretched his neck out for maximum effect and in middle of his shout pointed at Niall’s back. He glared at him too. Somehow, perhaps by intervention from Ukko, his voice rang powerful and easily washed over the others in the hall.
Every movement and action in the room ceased in an instant. As Korpi’s roar finally ended when he ran out of breath the silence continued through mixed emotions and expressions. Deer looked around confused, especially as the bears let go of them. Most rose from their hiding spots though notably Ulappa rushed over to unconscious Fyr. Bears, on the other hoof, stood by staring at either Niall or Tuathla. Former had seemingly regained his senses and pushed away Fyr’s body.
Latter, however, had spun around to look at Korpi. Tuathla had stared at him throughout the roar and once it was done she nodded in acknowledgement. “A challenge has been issued. As the Chieftain and mother of Niall I accept your right for it.” She looked over her shoulder to her eldest child, who had now stood back up.
Niall turned to Korpi and stared right into his eyes. Korpi could still see anger in the beady eyes. The bear growled at him and, after a moment, nodded.
“Very well,” said Tuathla before turning to her clan. “Prepare the arena! The moon and stars shall cast their judgement tonight.”
As the bears moved away at their Chieftain’s command, Korpi breathed out loud after what felt like an eternity. He rubbed his muzzle as his whole body shook from stress and anxiety. Might be the alcohol hitting him finally. Yet he had still defused the situation and saved Fyr.
‘I did it’, he thought in amazement. ‘Somehow I did it.’
A slap to his face brought him back to the painful reality. It was not enough to send him staggering but it did sting. He turned to his left and saw Imela, with her hoof still raised, glare at him with a shocked face.
“Korpi Lehto,” she spoke whilst jabbing at the stag’s chest. “What did you do?”