A Most Unexpected Ambassador

“Word cannot leave this room; I'll have your Oath or I'll have your head when we're done.” Helix nodded solemnly and the Ringmaster went on, troubled. “You'll find no end of surprise to know that word comes from the Dunters, of all people. Their augurs, such as they may be, warn of something that hungers more than they...”

“My Lord?” The Elf's brows rose the slightest bit, conveying great surprise.

“Yes, I know, I know,” the Satyr responded with a quick, humorless smile. “Traditionally, the Dunters are foes of all class and civilization. They're mad as a riot and thrice as destructive.”

“However, they DO claim to have a class, an order to their ways, and while they may be crude to our eyes, their laws are taken very seriously. Their seers practice haruspicy, did you know that?”

Helix shook his head, his face pale.

“It's true. They read the entrails of their victims. A Dunter Haruspex is horrifyingly violent at the best of times, and at the worst... well... lets just say I doubt it's the Dunters' Mob Bosses who inspire the worst nightmares. Haruspices are feared by even the strongest Dunter Lords, as it's the Haruspices who decide when and where the mob hunts, fights and revels. They kill seemingly at random, and it's forbidden to punish them. For their art, a Mob Boss is as good as any Elven princess.”

His guest, white as a sheet, rose hurriedly. “My Lord, I appreciate the lecture and have naught but the deepest respect for those of the Red Caps...”

The Ringmaster waved at him to sit down. “I'm telling you this to make a point. You can imagine my surprise to find a Dunter of fearsome renown down on one knee before my throne three mornings past, e'en as I returned from my morning bread.”

Helix could only stare at his lord as the Satyr continued. “Before I could summon the guard, my visitor rose and turned to face me. The look on his face surprised me to silence, for it is most unusual to see a Dunter of any stature look grim. They revel in their carnage and the fear they inspire.”

“He introduced himself, in a surprisingly courtly fashion, as one Du'Ergath Soneater, a name I recognize from many documents of war with the Dunters; Du'Ergeth's appetite is for the sons of mortals, especially the firstborn and lastborn... which made his presence and demeanor all the more shocking. He bade me sit and stated ornately that he had grave news to share.”

“'Lord Du'Ergeth Soneater, your atrocities are known far and wide in these realms', I stated. He smiled only slightly, which was horrific enough in itself. 'I have made great efforts to educate myself in the manners of Court for the sake of your precious realms', he replied. 'You can call your guards and I will have no choice but to render more atrocities before my death, but I bid you tend my words before you do so.”

“I had no choice. His bearing was a marvel. He was in the mismatched mortalskin leathers Dunters are so fond of, but his were clean, and ornately tattooed. He wore a great deal of human bone jewelry, including spine bracers, but they were cleaned to smooth ivory. He threatened violence, but had taken the time to try and learn the manners of Court. What else could I do? I listened. We conversed at great length, and he continued to astound me with his bearing. In the end, I could do no less than take heed of his concerns, and even I had one of our realm's greatest villains at hand, I let him leave freely.”

“Their Haruspices see something coming, something hungry. More and more of them across the realms are getting the same premonition, and it's getting stronger every day.” His Lord turned to him, his ruddy Satyr face drained of blood. “The Red Caps embody the hungers of the world, you see. They ARE all the hungers of all the rest of us, dream and dreamer alike. Not the lusts, the desires, the pleasures, but the elemental hungers themselves. What they see doesn't hunger because of the world, it hungers for the world.”