Private Mothplomacy

[Vince]

Mothplomacy
Welcoming the Myka delagtion, including Gristle ​

Two decorated walls with a number of guard towers ran in parallel from the mountainside in the north to the Hielburn lake in the south. Massive anti-air emplacements could be found by each of the corners. The palace which laid between it all dwarfed the walls: This was the summer palace of the Onderonian Royal Family and often served to host galas, political summits and certain foreign dignitaries. A clover of landing pads had been built out onto the lake with a common pathway leading up to the palace courtyard. Well trimmed hedges, pagodas and beautiful rows of flowers decorated the area which was centered around the pathway leading from the landing pads to the grand entrance of the palace.

A large statue of Vince's great grandfather could be found by the center of the pathway. For he was the one who had conquered the lands from the Beast Riders and emptied the Rider village across the lake. The walls were manned by guards, some of whom patrolled them and others who stood watch. Both the anti-air emplacements and the walls had seen their fair share of action. Tensions had been coming down for a few decades: something which could be seen in how old the damages appeared to be.

This day, the guards were present in full force and the turrets were all powered on. A few escort fighters could be found in the hangar and a few well selected position across the palace whilst three identical shuttles could be found on three of the landing pads. All precautions taken ahead of the meeting with the mysterious Myka. In truth, very little was known about them which was the reason for the security. Other preparations that had been made included the preparation of certain foods and moving the fires that usually lined the pathway in the courtyard a few meters away.

The two landing pads to the right stood empty with red carpets leading to the pathway which connected them to land. Aa line of Royal Guards along with the Onderonian Crown Prince were there to greet their guests. Right behind him stood two servants holding relatively large boxes. Seeing as landing clearances had already been granted, it was just a matter of waiting. It was clear to see that they were all interested in seeing the Myka. Vince himself had made sure that they all wore their white parade uniform. Resting his hand on the pommel of the sabre which hung by his belt, he took a deep breath before letting it out with a sense of excitement.

 

[Gristle]

Gristle despised diplomacy.

It was not that he did not recognize its strategic appeal. He could understand that it was important to ascertain all that could be gathered about the greater galaxy before the wars of conquest could begin in earnest. There was only so much that could be gained from raiding fringe settlements; flesh, materials, loot, yes - but nothing about what the people who produced them thought. They were too alien and unknown to the Myka for anything other than the most basic utensil to be ascertained or understood.

It was not the value of diplomacy that Gristle despised, but rather that he needed to be present for it. It was not that he explicitly needed the one even to do it, only that he would be the most capable to determine what knowledge was required for their military. Perhaps that was why he hated diplomacy so much... because he was beginning to become necessary for its fruition.

The black-purple vessel plummeted rapidly through the air, on a direct course toward its destination. Their pilot was talented and skilled, a Crafter named Wings who possessed not only the memories of dozens of talented flyers of ages past, but also her own experiences. There were no windows or viewing ports in the small ship, but the occupants gazed through the eyes of Wings, scouring the landscape for details to fixate on. Gristle thought that the walls were intriguing, and he imagined that they would be quite successful against an enemy that possessed no ability to fly or climb, though clearly they were antiquated by modern advancement - though he did not doubt the large anti-air cannons would be sufficiently dangerous even now.

Landing went smoothly enough. Perhaps those surrounding the landing pad would become aware of some of the ship's characteristics. It was bulky and wide, though no door seemed to exist where one might normally be placed. Instead, a trapdoor of some kind was built into the roof of the ship, and soon its occupants would disgorge themselves from the vessel. The ship glinted wet in the sunlight, and an odor of something like rotting or digested fish began to seep from it, putrescent and offensive.

A minuscule figure rapidly escaped from the ship, crawling down its side and gazing at all who had come to meet it. It was quite small, with fluffy white fur, and large curious black eyes. It chirped happily for a moment and then sat still. Out from the ship disembarked larger versions of the small creature - about the size of a man and the length of a horse - these displayed a greater degree of caution, each checking around various angles of the landing site as they took in every piece of it that they could.

Two of them possessed large ceramic chests which they clutched closely to their abdomen.

Finally, after all had disembarked, a large construct of sorts came from the ship. It seemed to be something akin to a moving tent or wagon's body, a manufactured covering of cloth and wood that moved itself with concealed legs to sit somewhat behind the group. Whatever was inside of the box was kept hidden, though there was little doubt that it was alive.

The Synaptic "Mender" stepped to the front of the group, extended a forearm to its own throat, and began to forcibly articulate the words as best it could manage, fighting with the high-pitched chirps and whistles that accompanied Myka physiology. It was a linguistic corruption of speech, perhaps only barely discernible if one was a native speaker, and full of indecipherable squealing pauses as Tender both caught their breath and attempted to adjust their vocal chords enough to strike a particular note of pronunciation.

And yet, Mender was the best at this of their kin. Gristle had always suspected that the gentle blue bioluminescence that he projected was sufficient to put many beings in a more forgiving frame of mind.

"We are thankful for your welcome. We are of the Ykaradan colony of the Myka. You are the first of your kind to meet us. We are pleased. What is the procedure for this meeting?"

Vince

 

[Vince]

Mothplomacy
Welcoming the Myka delagtion, including Gristle ​

A smile lingered on the Crown Prince's lips, just as it always did. Still, he made no efforts to hide his fascination upon seeing the visitors disembark - or perhaps disgorge, rather. His brows rose with interest and a bit of surprise and he leaned forward to get just an inch closer. His eyes followed the smaller creatures with a sense of harmony. Naturally, he did his utmost to maintain the fascination at a respectable level: One of respect between equals, rather than one of being amused by the culturally and technologically exotic.

Not only the Prince reacted to the curious aliens. The soldiers standing guard on the row farther away who faced the newly arrived vessel had a series of expressions. A few seemed just as interested as the Prince while many of the others appeared to be somewhat disturbed. Still, they made a valiant effort to remain as neutral as they possibly could. They did, after all, have an expectation on them to be neutral and non-offensive whilst representing Onderon.

Aside from the troops on guard, Vince was joined by a protocol droid in a matte metallic grey colour wearing the same ceremonial hat, sabre and rifle as the troops. Naturally, the droid remained expressionless throughout. Its first movement came when the Mender spoke. First, its head jerked towards the Royal before quickly turning back to the speaker to observe its mouth movements whist taking in and analysing the sounds, words and sentence structuring.

Once the Mender had spoken, the Droid and the Prince looked to each other. A brief sense of uncertainty passed but would quickly be swept away as Vince nodded with a pleasant "Go ahead"

The droid's gaze lingered on its master for a few moments "Statement: I have not yet been able to tr-"

The Prince raised a finger to cut the droid off "It is alright. We will use basic. Do what you can to ease the process"

"Confirmation: Of course, Master"" the droid spoke with a sense of suppressed joy. It then turned to the guests "Proclamation: Crown Prince Vince Ivro Kalmorak of Hervet wishes to welcome you to the Hielburn Estate on behalf of the Royal house of Onderon. Presentation: The Procedure as planned is as follows: After having made formal introductions, you will be guided to the Estate where refreshments will be offered. You will then proceed to the Tulip Garden where gifts can be exchanged and private discussions can be held. Finally, you will be invited to the Grand Hall where dinner will be served."

Taking a measured and careful step forth, the Prince offered the droid a nod "That will be all for now." As if by command, the droid took a similar step back. Placing a hand over his heart, Vince produced a formal semi-bow with his head. "Should you desire anything along the way, please, let us know and we shall see if it can be provided. We do not know much of your species and wish you make your stay as pleasant as possible." A strong breeze from the lake came towards them with force. Feeling his hair flutter back, Vince's smile grew.

"Come, let us be off" he spoke loudly for the voice to carry over the wind before waving for them to follow along down the path, first lined by soldiers standing at guard and then well trimmed and flowery hedges with torches moved a few meters away.

 

[Gristle]

There were as many questions as there were places to look. With every passing second, the seven Myka and their four Nanitic companions would find some new fixation upon which to attach their attention. Why did the soldiers all wear the same kind of clothing? It did not seem to be armored, so what was the purpose of it? Why were the walls suffering from small amounts of damage instead of being repaired as quickly as it appeared? The speaking machine was strange and what purpose did it serve that another humanoid could not?

Gristle's own mind roiled around more carnal questions. Did the humanoids here taste the same as the others upon which he had gorged? Was their flesh as hardy or resilient or would it be softer or thicker? What power did their firearms have when compared to his exoskeleton, and did they have the destructive capacity to slay the entourage in a fell swoop?

He kept himself in check, moving alongside the rest of the group despite the lack of viewing ports - the Thrum provided enough guidance on its own to follow the path laid by the others.

It was useful to have the protocol for their visit and its schedule to be laid out so thoroughly. Mender voicelessly voiced such thoughts as he trundled along behind the humans. Several of the others seemed to agree that this would be useful to guarantee that the entirety of their visit was productive and it allowed them to discuss among themselves how they would react when they reached each new milestone. They had not mentioned explicitly when questions could be asked, but it seemed reasonable that perhaps this would be allowable throughout the extent of their journey so long as the matters were not private.

"We are not familiar with your title. We know you are a leader, but what does it mean?" Mender questioned as they walked, placing his hand over his heart and offering a crude imitation of the nod he had witnessed earlier.

One of the Nanitics spread its wings, catching the breeze from the nearby lake waters. It leaped upward, soaring a dozen feet upward and scanning the horizon for the briefest instance from its vantage before falling back toward the group and landing atop one of the Worker Myka's backs. It chirped with joy at the exhilarating movement and silently transmitted what it had seen to the remainder of the group so that they might be aware of the area surrounding them.

The foliage which was grown on the flanks of the pathway seemed inviting and bright. "Are these food or medicine?" Mender questioned, extending a hand toward the plantlife in question. They did not seem particularly nutritious on a cursory glance, and so it seemed probable that they were being cultivated for their medicinal properties - but perhaps they were a spice or an herb that enhanced the taste of food?

Regardless of the answer, the Myka would continue along their path to the estate, eager to see what "refreshments" had been laid out for them. Gristle's mind raced with thoughts of feasting and food - and the slaughter that might bring him such pleasures.

Vince

 

[Vince]

Mothplomacy
Welcoming the Myka delagtion, including Gristle ​

An appreciative smile and nod was offered as the alien mirrored the gesture that the Crown Prince has used to greet them. "Onderon is ruled by the house of Hervet. Power passes from one family member to the other. Normally, it passes from the Monarch to their child. In this case, the Monarch is my mother, The Queen. Thus, I am the Crown Prince." Whilst speaking, his features grew more serious and solemn until his eyes wandered over to the Nanitics who played in the wind. The beginnings of a smile started to form as he offered an idle "History tends to have a will of its own, however. Several of our greatest kings and queens have been brothers, sisters or uncles of the former monarch."

Soon, they would all begin to move towards the estate. A few soldiers would stay behind as guards of the landing bay whilst the others would trail behind the visiting entourage. The droid's position seemed to shift, for at times, it upped its tempo subtly to move up ahead and at other times, it slowed down ever so slightly to fall behind. All whilst analyzing both the guests and their surroundings.

Gentle curiosity marked the Royal's features when the question about the local decor was asked. He offered a soft "Neither" whilst letting his gaze shift past the visitor and onto the garden behind him. "We are convinced that a skilled chef could turn these leaves into a part of something delicious but here, they serve a very different purpose. They decorate the estate garden. The current shape of the garden was organized after the passing of King Semnet. We had a few tumultuous years after which people broadly yearned for more order and structure. This garden symbolises just that. Our Master Gardener ensures that the hedges are well trimmed, that the weeds are kept at bay and that the flowerbeds maintains the right colour schemes."

A few meters later, they had reached the middle point. The path was split in two as the grand statue of Vince's ancestor towered over them "And here he is. King Semnet. He offered us decades of prosperity and was known as 'The Builder'."

With a few conservative steps, the Prince got them back on the move once more. "So, how do these things work for you? How does your people decide on what to do?"

 

[Gristle]

The Myka were not completely utilitarian in their nature. At the individual level, they each possessed a sense of aestheticism and rejoiced whenever they found something that tickled their particular fancies. Nevertheless, the idea that so much foliage would be grown and cared for at such great expense solely to provide decoration seemed unfathomable. Was this a constructive use of resources and manpower? Did it confer some unforeseen social or political effect, perhaps serving as a symbol for those who were "in the know?"

Gristle fixated further on the portions of the discussion about the previous rulers and leaders of Onderon. The system had been devised so that the typical transfer of power was from parent to offspring, but the thought that it passed so regularly to siblings instead seemed to indicate... something. Was there a greater level of mortality than expected in this species of mammalians when compared to their more primitive peers, or was there a kind of malicious activity at work that prevented the typical transference? Maybe they had adopted their politics from the actions of reptilians which consumed their broodmates until only the most genetically capable were left standing.

A monument had been erected in the likeness of one of these ancestral kings. The Myka came to a halt as they analyzed the fixture for any semblance of life or sapience, but no, it seemed to have been carved from unliving stone. The entourage briefly considered whether the statue was accurate to the features of the late ruler, or whether liberties had been taken to emphasize their most notable capabilities and accomplishments. For all they knew, the entire thing was a fraud meant to justify the rulership of the current Queen - but then, why would she care what they thought of him if that were the case?

Questions. Ceaseless.

The group moved once more, and this time it was the Prince's turn to express his curiosity. Thoughts were transmitted, shared, adapted, concluded and finally expressed by Mender who once again replicated the same gesticulations from earlier, apparently having adopted them fully into their repertoire for each and every statement or interrogative that was to be made for the duration of their meeting.

"Weeee..." A clasping of the throat, a violent shaking of the vocal chords until they strummed at the lower pitch necessary to speak Basic. "We too have lineages of importance, but none more valued than others within the colony." A polite pause in the event that the machine needed to translate was offered. "The Ykaradan colony does not accept other birthlines outside of ours normally, so those within are chosen and important to us. They are... as your people are your people, so ours are ours, yes?"

"But none lead forever. Leadership, yes, but not rule. Those with capability go forth, and drive those without. All contribute to solving issues, but none command this. The Nexus consolidates all knowing of problems and skills and capacity and directs, but it neither leads nor rules." Another pause, this one less polite than grasping for terminology in a sea of uncertain phrases. "Not... movable? Uncrippled, but unwalking. Like King Semnet, but alive - in one place, unless with great effort it is moved."

The entourage continued onward for several paces.

"This is understandable? We may elaborate if you cannot understand. We are one, but many, and so we are different than your many who are only ones." There was no superiority in the tone of Mender - it couldn't quite express tone like that yet, though Gristle felt the underlying vestiges of supremacy that bled through the emotions sent off by the Synaptic. It was hard to think of the mammalians and the others in this galaxy as anything but highly disorganized, but that did not make them completely worthless. Perhaps this meeting would prove of great value, nevertheless.

Vince

 

[Vince]

Mothplomacy
Welcoming the Myka delagtion, including Gristle ​

A neutral but interested expression clad the young Royal's face as the Mender spoke with a few patient nods as it paused to find a way to produce the right words. The protocol droid remained silent throughout, for with the Mender's valiant efforts to use Basic, no translations appeared to be necessary.

"We might be in the early stages of staring to comprehend the concepts." he spoke softly, offering the aliens a gentle nod and a friendly smile. "Many of the topics you touched upon are vaguely familiar to us, yet still rather foreign. This 'We are one, but many' contrasted to how we are 'many but ones' phrasing; it is reminiscent of a hivemind, perhaps with a central hub?."

The Crown Prince paused and looked away for a brief moment, seemingly contemplating whilst moving up the three to four steps leading up to the estate. "But the division into birthlines, choosing leaders - even having lineages of importance - to my understanding, it is atypical of hiveminds. Am I, roughly, onto the right path?"

 

[Gristle]

Mender seemed pleased with himself when the royal did not initially request clarification, but it became quickly apparent that some further discussion on the topic would be necessary to guarantee that the information passed between the two groups was accurate. Within any other diplomatic entourage, it may have been essential for the group to convene with one another, to secretly whisper their thoughts, to bring their minds together using hidden conversation to facilitate the ideal response - but all of this was done nigh instantaneously between the insectoids and Mender served as both mouthpiece and chief diplomat.

Mender listened, and having allowed the royal to seemingly conclude their thoughts, once again performed the gesticulation of prior minutes before gripping his throat and beginning the horrible process of pronouncing words in the Basic tongue. "Hivemind is curious to us. We see the term in fictions of insects and arthropods. In these, there is only one mind in many bodies, yes? This is a... falsehood to demonstrate an idea, a literary conception, we understand."

"If such things are real, we are not quite one. We have intelligence distributed in each body, in each member, many minds in many bodies. We are one, though, in purpose. We have unity of... experience that your kind are lacking." Mender shifted, their throat raw from the work of so many brutal vocal corrections.

Gristle gripped his own throat, hidden away within his self-made concealment, his voice carrying through the trapping of the false wagon even as his form remained concealed.

"You are capable of empathy and imagination, but these things are ultimately false. You see a broken leg and you think of the pain that it would cause you and this allows you sympathy, but you do not know what the pain is." Gristle shifted, a glint of his exoskeletal chitin briefly visible deep within the confines of his vehicle. "You are reliant on your own experience. When you die, you are gone - all that is left are the lies held in the minds of others. We are many as you are, but we become one another in a way that you cannot."

A limb extended from the cloth, coated in vicious thorny protrusions, and it jut like a spear out in salute or accusation at the statue of a long-dead King.

"We are not merely the product of our ancestors. We are our ancestors."

Mender retook the conversation, and once again Gristle concealed his horrifying features from the mammals.

"The lineages we value are ours. Every colony has their own. These are nations in variable like your own, but admission is not permitted exclusively by species or by talent - one is born into the colony, grows with its knowledge, dies with it when it dies. Would your kin also remain permanently with their colony - their nation?"

The entourage would follow wherever they were led.

"The unity we feel is why there are no rulers. We are one another, and yet, some are better suited for taking the lead of certain tasks, and so these ones are leaders when those issues arise. Does this explanation suffice?"


Vince

 

[Vince]

Mothplomacy
Welcoming the Myka delagtion, including Gristle ​

Once more, Vince remained silent as the other party talked. He was close to offering a response when the alien expressed uncertainty on whether hiveminds were real or not but offered a simple nod instead. The new voice had also been a bit of an experience but he had simply looked and remained attentive. He had been close to flinching when seeing the limb shoot out towards the statue but managed to stand firm.

The grand doors to the estate soon opened, taking them into the broad side of a large chamber with a massive and broad flight of stairs reaching from side to side and producing a bit of a stage before narrowing as it lead up. It had served as a chamber for press conferences on multiple occasions with the representative of the Crown and their guest descending from the stairs together to take questions from the press core waiting below whilst remaining on the stage. This time, however, the podiums were missing and so where the foldable chairs offered to the press. Instead, a few tall tables stood in a semi-ordered structures with refreshments on top.

"We believe we understand. At least to a degree. It sounds like you are able to connect to the mind of another of your kind to share both sensations and knowledge. We suppose the connection not being constant offers a chance for a sort of individuality which would not be possible within the frames of a hivemind. It does sound, however, like your people are connected enough to be able to act in relative unison. It is as if you often share experience and knowledge and each other, thus moving away from the individuality mentioned earlier. But then, that begs the question: Are you really that different from a hivemind?"

The Prince fell silent for a few moments as he gestured for them to join him by the tall tables. "We have a friend who wrote a brilliant paper on Killik hives. We shall se if we can procure a copy of the paper for you. But now!" The talk was forced into something of a break. "Let us know if you need any introductions, our protocol droid is ready to describe whichever item piques your curiosity."

HK looked out over the tables. Fruits, Yoghurt sorbets, drinks - some alcoholic, some non-alcoholic and some nectar based ones procured from a large floral plantation near Iziz. Then, there were some pastries. "Statement: My master is indeed correct. I would be happy to describe any of these items and their nutritional values to you. Warning: I am not familiar with your species and can thus not make informed medical commentary on whether the foods might be dangerous for you or not. Query: Is there anything in particular you wish to inform me of in that regard."

If any questions about the foods were asked, the droid would answer them with high accuracy and professionalism.

 

[Gristle]

The Myka obediently followed along after their host, entering into the grand chamber and immediately finding themselves awestruck by the construction. It was not until they had laid their eyes upon the tables filled with foodstuffs that the concept that this was all meant to be something of an "eating space" became fully apparent. Of course, the Myka themselves had locations where food could be devoured in relative peace and comfort, but nothing quite so ostentatious as this construct.

If surprise could be carried across their insectoid faces, then it would have found itself upon each of them.

"We would be very interested in understanding this paper that you have offered." The others continued to gently spread out through the chamber, never straying far from Mender and Gristle, but obviously taking in the scene from varying angles and transmitting these back to their peers. "We are fascinated by your systems of information storage. Writing has never been widespread among our kind." Gristle mused that perhaps this was why they had lost so much knowledge of their creators and their nature, but it was an irrelevant thing to reveal to the mammals.

Questions rang out over each and every kind of food present. The Myka who thus far had been quiet took the lead on these, bombarding the protocol droid with every conceivable query that could be mustered upon the makeup of the meals, their cultural significance, how they were traditionally eaten, and so on.

"We do not believe any of these things will poison us in these amounts." Mender eventually inserted into the conversation. "In large portions, alcohol may cause negative effects on our bodies and impaired function, but we will restrain ourselves from any overindulgence."

Once they had been allowed to do so, the Myka would gather around the table wherever they were permitted or directed. Digitigrade, they would not find significant difficulty in clutching at the utensils and eating tools of their hosts, though it was evident that they were unfamiliar with such items. The "wagon" construction found its way to an open space a short distance from the nearest food table.

"We are aware that your species' pattern recognition can seemingly override conscious thought and force responses from your..." The word for the anatomy was lost, and a brief verbal mapping was directed to the machine so as to inform the royal that they were speaking of the amygdala. "Within the vehicle is one of our War-Form kin. They possess a highly adapted body suited for conflict. Will the sight of him cause undue terror? We do not wish to cause a negative stimuli if so."

It was not as if though a Nanitic could not simply shove food under the tarp for Gristle, but this would be an important point for future non-violent interactions.

Vince

 

[Vince]

Mothplomacy
Welcoming the Myka delagtion, including Gristle ​

Vince blinked with confusion before raising a hand halfway up to take the word back "We just want to be absolutely clear that when we say paper, we of course refer to a research paper - an essay. It is written digitally and will be available on a computer terminal." he leaned his head to the side and added "Of course, if you would prefer, we could likely print it out for a physical version."

The event continued with the HK droid occupying itself with answering questions from the visitor who seemed to pose all the food-related questions. Vince picked up a glass of water for himself and nodded along upon hearing the Mender's comments on alcohol. It would take a few moments of just standing there for the Onderonian to notice that the guests were waiting for a go-ahead to consume what had been offered. Upon this realisation, he raised his glass and looked out over the room with the attending guests "Welcome to Hielburn Estate, and welcome to Onderon. Please, share what we have to offer. Let let our relations grow in cooperation and in friendship."

As the toast had been offered, he brought his glass to his mouth and consumed a good portion of the water in it.

The question which followed had him confused once more. He looked with patient but expectant eyes and hoped for the Mender to continue explaining what he was talking about. Instead, they jumped straight to the point by speaking of the potential terror caused by the sight of the War-Form kin. A gracious smile was offered as the Royal shook his head. "We appreciate that you pose the question. The sight of the War-Form would not cause undue terror - it is only if the War-Form would show aggression that terror might arise. It is very considerate of you to have kept them hidden for our sake. Now, I hope that they too can enjoy the refreshments."

 

[Gristle]

A brief wave of disappointment flickered through a number of the gathered delegation, and Gristle was among their ranks. Of course, they had already come across information-containing computer devices, but to see writing in its more primitive formats would have been a fascinating vision into the ancient methods of their future opponents. The insatiable curiosity of the Myka found itself expressed in a brief conversation on how they might request a true paper copy of the documentation that was cut short by the offer of the monarch to simply have it made physical.

"We are unfamiliar with what it is to 'print' but we would be happy to have a physical copy of the paper. Could you have one of your slaves draft it for us?"

Permission granted for the removal of his concealment, Gristle outstretched his chitinous limbs from the "wagon", pulling the fabric apart and snapping it irreparably from its previous framework. Thorny protrusions caught onto occasional pieces of the tarp, rending it to ribbons where it caught with a terrifying proclamation as to the sharpness of those exoskeletal spikes.

Brilliant red eyes glared out at the monarch, examining and analyzing him with his own eyes even though he had already witnessed every part of him through the vision of his kin. Gristle was hungry and the sight of the fleshy mammal did nothing to quell that hunger. He imagined what it would be like to spill the monarch open and consume each of his pieces. Would the flesh of the leader taste different than the flesh of the underlings, or were they truly physiologically identical? There must be some genetic aspect to the process or else it would not be the children of previous rulers who continued that rule, would it?

But that would ruin any attempt at diplomacy, wouldn't it?

Gristle pulled himself slowly and carefully to the table, shifting into a position that had been left by his kin. Gristle did not bother to reach for one of the utensils of his kin, instead plucking his digits into a plump chunk of meat and pulling it to his mouth, the morsel being chewed and torn with abandon. To his credit, he was not a messy eater, but it was not due to etiquette; Gristle simply despised the idea of wasting even a dribble of the sustenance that was now available to him. Every bite brought the hunger more under control, and made him think less and less of devouring the monarch, but the thought never went totally absent.

"I am grateful that you have allowed me to eat," Gristle said, contorting his throat with his other hand. "I have noticed that your own warriors are very similar to you. Are you of their caste?"

Mender finished a fruity concoction.

"We have many questions for you, but you are only a single individual. We fear that we will overwhelm you with too many questions. Do you have others who you delegate these discussions to, or do you deal with all questions personally?"

Vince