A female Caldorian strolled into the room. As was common for the females of her race, she was short and slight of build. That was the only thing about her that wasn’t strikingly abnormal. While most of her race had scales ranging from obsidian in color to tree green, she had scales that were barely off-white, touched by hint of sea-foam blue. Her eyes were similar to human eyes but were a shade of emerald green that almost glowed. Adding to the stunning effect was a single pauldron enameled with a bright white, and the hilt of a large curving scimitar concealed within a scabbard made of black-spotted snow leopard hide. She carried a white enamel helm under one arm. Hers was obviously a dangerous beauty. Like most of her race, in addition to the visible weapons and armor, she’d also be wearing several concealed blades, and Caldorian saliva functioned as a mild paralytic to humans. If she spit on you, your reaction time would be decreased significantly. If she bit you, your consciousness would be forfeit for at least a quarter of a bell. Her Caldorian scales would function as yet another layer of protection under the clothes and armor.

Looking around the room, she made eye contact with Brandus, and immediately walked towards him. “You! Where is the owner of this establishment?! The one named Kae’lo.”

Brandus hesitated. Dwarves and Caldorians weren’t known for getting along. In fact, they were known more for their instinctive dislike of each other. Dwarves were stocky, and built like the rocks in the mountains where they made their home, and were traditionally masters of brute force tactics on the battlefield. Trying to stop charging dwarves on a battle field was like getting hit by a massive avalanche of armored stones bouncing down a hillside. It could be done, but it always would have an impact. The Caldorians on the other hand, were traditionally masters of speed and cunning. They were known for battle lines that faded in front of a charge, and then folded around the opponents. Fighting them was like fighting in water. By the time you realized the troops falling back in front of you were intentionally retreating, odds were good you would be feeling an enemy’s blade in your ribs or back.

That was one of the only things that rightly surprised many about the inn’s proprietor, a dwarf speaking respectfully of a Caldorian in the naming of his business was unheard of at best. When Kae’lo had first founded the inn and chose to name it The Caldorian General, Brandus had questioned the dwarf on the choice of the name. Kae’lo had half smiled and said, “That’s its name, and I won’t be choosing another.”

The Caldorian was obviously growing impatient at his silence. Brandus slowly slid his chair back from the table a bit to give himself some room, just in case it was needed. “I can let him know you stopped by, what’s your business with him?”

Obviously, that wasn’t the response she wanted. At first her eyes lit on fire, the ridge of scales on the top of her head flattened, and Brandus was certain he was going to have a fight on his hands. He was quite taken aback when she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and bowed her head in a slightly submissive gesture.

“As you would have it, I am the daughter of the Xes’kre Boska, Poltramus of the Krittoli, and First Sub-Matria to my people. I have business with the dwarf who is rumored to own this inn. You would honor me by conveying my apologies for missing this chance to satisfy the demands of honor, and pass along my desire to meet with him at his earliest convenience. My camp is located outside of the city to the west. We will be at that location until two days after the princes’ celebration.” She stepped back a pace, snapped her heals together, and threw her right arm across her chest in a smart salute.

Brandus couldn’t help but smile at her formal behavior and nod his head at her request. “As you wish, I’ll let him know you stopped by.”

“You have my thanks.” She relaxed her stance and turned to leave, buckling on her helm as she strode through the door and into the street. The other patrons of the inn visibly relaxed.

Another strange thing about the Caldorians were some of the rumors that surrounded their race as of late, rumors that spoke of mad Caldorians going into a blood rage over the scent of certain humans. The rumors said they went mad and killed anyone they spoke to while on their hunt for the single individual they had scented. They were likely just rumors, but rumors had a way of starting with a grain of truth. Odds were good that there had been a killing somewhere, and that was enough to scare many people with less training in self-defense than Brandus.

Brandus didn’t have to wait long before his friend immerged from the kitchen laden with plates and bowls. Kae’lo carried one large platter with some sort of roasted bird on his head, at least three plates of various vegetables and loaves, and two large bowls of soup. Brandus waited to break the news until Kae’lo had set the small feast down on the table and hopped up onto the bench across from him.

“While you were, once again, overdoing yourself with your promise of a meal,” Brandus eyed the food hungrily, “you had a rather strange visitor.”

Kae’lo looked up from the leg he had just torn off the bird, “A visitor, you say?”

Brandus nodded and took a bite of his own. The fowl was quite excellent. He couldn’t quite place the seasoning, “Yes… What type of bird is this?”

“It’s not a bird, at least not like one I’ve heard of, a merchant passed here the other day with a couple of these. They had feathers, sure enough. They couldn’t even fly as well as an egg hen though. I wouldn’t have chanced trying one, but the gentleman was kind enough to provide me a recipe for them, as well.”

“I see! They taste good!” Brandus tore off another bite and talked around it while he chewed. “As I was saying… Yes, you had a visitor. A Caldorean. A female, though not like one I’ve seen before. Have you had any trouble with them recently?” Brandus was thinking of the sign outside the inn again, though he knew better than to bring that up specifically.

Kae’lo had moved onto his soup and loudly slurped at it, “No. Not that I know of anyway. We don’t see many of them this far west. You said she was different? How so?”

Brandus nodded and shoveled some of the vegetables, some sort of root from the looks of it, onto his plate. Kae’lo probably knew more than he was saying, but that was to be expected.

“Well, she had near white scales. That isn’t something I’ve ever heard of before. She was armed well, with high quality weapons even for her race.” Brandus took a bite of the root. It was quite good. It had a buttery flavor with a bit of a crunch, and just the edge of spice to it. Rather like the local radish, but far more mild. The local radishes made most people’s eyes water if they were eaten raw. In fact, the local healers were known to prescribe inhaling the fumes from the juices to clear the noses of those struck by the common cold. It wasn’t a pleasant prospect, and Brandus often wonder if the cure was worse than the sickness. Thankfully, he’d never had a cold bad enough to find out.

Kae’lo now had a thoughtful look on his face while he took a drought from his ale. “White scales, you say? Did she happen to give a name or mention what she wants?”

Brandus finished clearing his plate and sat back in his chair with his spiced wine. “No name, said she wanted to meet though. She gave some sort of title though. Let me think on it a moment…” He closed his eyes and tried to remember what she had said, “… ah! I’ve got it. She said she was the First Sub-Matria? That mean anything to you?”

Kae’lo sighed, “Yes, it does. I don’t know what she wants, but I’d like to keep my inn intact. In the Caldorian culture, the will of the First Sub-Matria is not often ignored. It seems I’d best go out and find them tomorrow… though I don’t like the prospects of going alone. I don’t suppose if I told Marten and Treg to go set up your tent in the square tonight, you’d be willing to come with?”

Brandus smiled, “Of course! We’re friends. I’d go even if you didn’t have them set up my tent for me, though I do appreciate the gesture.”

“It’s a deal then. Tomorrow, we’ll go and see what she wants. For now, finish your wine. I’ll go see to Marten and Treg.” Kae’lo slid off the bench and strode out the door.

Brandus chuckled. It was never boring in Gandon during a celebration, and it seemed this year was going to be extra lively. He’d have it no other way.