A few months have passed since Pebble’s chance encounter with Tik’Tak. The winter was colder than the Dreamdust elves were used to, but milder than the freezing winters of the central continent. It seems that the cold weather suited the cold relationship between the two tribes. For those winter months, there was little contact between the Machakw and the Dreamdust elves. Scouts and pathfinders report seeing Machakw scouts watching them from a distance, but neither group ever approached the other. No violence, but also no communication.

It is on one of the earliest days of spring that Tik’Tak approaches Riverhaven. He comes with a group of three other Machakw. They are armed, but their weapons sheathed. They walk clearly visible and slowly in the open, with Tik’Tak carrying a tall thin pole covered in white ash.

“We come with peace,” He tells the Dreamdust elves, “Chief Hashkeh and Lee’shaa have agreed to sit with your chief and shaman to speak. They want you to come to Tk’eek to speak with us. Lee’shaa knows you like dark, so night good. Can bring warrior and weapon for being safe, but only three other than chief and shaman and weapons stay out of hands.”

He pauses uncomfortably and holds up a woven bag, “Hashkeh not want you to know where is Tk’eek. Asks to wear these, so you not see how to get there. I know, sound bad. You not hurt me, so I not let you hurt. I promise.”

Tik’Tak offers the bag.

The Dreamdust elves exchange an uneasy glance, but Pebble (makes a sense motive check and then) nods. Pebble, Dust, Steve, and two guards brace themselves for an unpleasant walk. Pebble, as the youngest, gets the responsibility of carrying the pack with the samples of trade goods. She firmly instructs Arroyo to stay behind. The goat bleats angrily at her, but concedes.

It’s something of an awkward journey. Dreamdust elves are surefooted in the desert, but walking while blindfolded is hard and it appears to be some distance. At least the bag keeps daylight out. They are obviously led in circles at some points, but the journey takes an entire day and they arrive at dusk as the sun sets. As they enter the camp, Tik’Tak removes the blindfolds.

Tk’eek is a place that looks like home. It’s located in some kind of shallow gulley. The tents are made of wood frames and animal hides, quite obviously set up to be taken down and travelled with quickly. The camp is quite well concealed. You’d have to be right on top of it to see it. You can smell cooking food and hear light hide drums in the camp.

There are dozens of Machakw around, most watching you carefully. They seem busy with regular desert nomad camp craft. Some are tending tents and preparing food, and some are passing time by painting on stone and animal hides. They all back away as you enter, watching you carefully.

The Dreamdust elves take everything in, trying to gauge how many Machakw there are in this camp, and looking for young and elderly. Their presence would be a sign of trust, their absence either a sign that things with the Coyote and the lack of food are especially bad, or merely a sign that they’re being hidden away from the potentially dangerous visitors. (d)

As Tik’Tak leads you deeper into camp, you hear the faint bleating of goats. In the center of camp you find a large tent with several animal pens. In the pens are the goatnap victims, including poor little Namib, all apparently unharmed. At the large tent stand two figures, to whom Tik’Tak bows and presents you.

One of the figures is a Machakw male, towering over the other Machakw at nearly 4’3”. He is broad chested, wearing heavy bone armor with his head spikes decorated with bird skulls. Across his back is an axe nearly as tall as he is made with some kind of jet black stone. Across his chest, oddly, is one of the stolen signs that says ‘STOP’ in black letters.

The other Machakw is an older looking female. She leans heavily on a driftwood stick decorated with small precious stones, and wears what appears to be a mountain lion skin as if it were a cloak. Her eyes watch you carefully from under the lion’s teeth.

The male steps forward, folding his arms across his chest. His eyes dart across the faces of your party with a frown.

“I am Chief Hashkeh,” he says with a heavy accent, “You call for truce. You bring tribute to ask Machakw to stop taking from you?”

Dust steps forward, Steve and Pebble on either side of him. His mind races for a moment, contemplating whether to introduce himself as chief, but that was a precedent no one would ever let him live down. “I am Dust, leader of the Dreamdust elves. This is Steve, our mystic-- our shaman,” he clarified. “And this is Pebble, our Scoutmaster.” He glanced at the Machakw, gauging their reactions. “We do call for truce. We have brought samples of things that we can trade.”

“Truce?” Hashkeh turns his head sideways, “Tik’Tak right. Not coyotes. Never talk like that. Show me what you bring.”

Dust nods, and Steve spreads out a tightly woven blanket, dyed in bright stripes of color. Pebble sits on the edge of it and starts digging through her pack. “The blanket is part of it,” she said. “We weave and color blankets and clothing.” She dug out more of the goat jerky that had been such a hit with Tik’Tak, a skin full of liquor made from goat milk, some finely embroidered fabrics (originally intended as headwraps, but possibly useful for other things), some tanned leather belt pouches, a bone flute, a carefully wrapped package of sleepy tea, and assorted odds and ends. Once everything was set out, Pebble was unable to resist glancing longingly at Namib.

Dust waved a hand at the items. “This is many of the things we can trade. We are looking for information about local plants for food, medicine, and coloring fabric. And information about other people in the area.”

Hashkeh and the older Machakw, presumably Lee’Shaa as Tik’Tak mentioned, carefully examine the goods you have brought. They show a great interest in the food items (though they appear to not know how to make tea), and a greater interest in the textiles. The two chatter at each other in their language before Hashkeh turns to Dust.

“You craft well. All things, well made. Food is good, some strange, but good still. You say you want only information from us, but this is what I ask. Why would we not just keep taking what we want from you?”

Tik’Tak makes a pained expression in the background.

Dust grins, showing his teeth. “That would be bad for both of us. If you attack for food and fabric, we’ll stop making more. We don’t like starting wars, but we just finished fighting an army much bigger and scarier than you. You might kill some of us, but we would kill many of you. We don’t want that. We would rather be friends. We make much better friends than enemies.”

Lee’Shaa chatters something at Hashkeh. Hashkeh’s eyes narrow. Tik’Tak makes a snorting noise.

“I ask you,” Hashkeh gives Dust as level a gaze as he can from like two and a half feet down, “What you really want? Just want us stop attack? No one offer so much, only ask for information in return.”

“Information is valuable,” Steve said solemnly. “Just ask the goats.”

Dust stared at him for a moment, rubbed his eyes, and pretended he hadn’t spoken. “We want trading partners. Allies. Friends. Information isn’t the only thing we want, but right now it’s the most important to us.”

Hashkeh considers this for a moment, also giving Steve an odd look.

“Haven’t hurt your four leg animals. They not good for us. We will give them back, but we want something from you.”

“We appreciate that you’ve taken care of them. What do you want from us?” Dust asked.

Pebble was unable to keep her face neutral, shooting another longing look at the goats.

The goats bleat sadly at you and seem a little skinnier than when you first saw them, but are otherwise unharmed.

SInce no one expected there was much chance of seeing them alive, skinny was fantastic!

Hashkeh taps a finger on the sign strapped to his chest. "Teach us the magic."

“Writing?”

“Yes,” Hashkeh smiles, “The word magic!”

Dust nods slowly. “We can teach you how to write in this language. I don’t know your language.”

“I can teach you,” The older Machakw steps forward, “I am Lee’Shaa, shaman of the Machakw. Or, what is left. I know the thinskins’ speech very well. Do you speak the truth? That all you want in return for peace is to know about our desert, and for your four leg animals to be returned?”

Hashkeh turns as if he is about to say something, but Lee’Shaa silences him with a sharp glare.

“Yes. I promise.” Dust smiles tiredly. “We’ve had too much fighting, and we don’t want more.”

Lee’Shaa watches Dust very carefully as he speaks, “We have had too much fighting as well. We fought the orangeskins, fought the coyotes, fought the wolves… Every time we fight, there are less of us. Hashkeh speaks like we take what we want, but the truth is that we couldn’t fight you even if we wanted to. What you see? This is all of us.”

All the dreamdust elves stiffen a little at the mention of wolves.

Hashkeh’s eyes bulge. He hops towards Lee’Shaa and starts practically screaming at her in his language. Lee’Shaa whispers a few words in her language and then slaps him with a blue glowing palm. Anyone reasonably knowledgeable about magic notices it’s a calm emotions spell. Hashkeh rubs his cheek and grumbles at her.

“Forgive Hashkeh. He is the only reason we are alive. The wisdom of a war chief only does so much. So, if I teach you our speech, you will teach us writing?”

“We will.” Dust paused. “By wolves, do you mean Lycans? Shapeshifters?”

“The wolves that walk as thinskins?” Hashkeh asks, “Whose fur snaps shinyrock? Yes. We fought them. They were the worst. Killed many of us. They are gone now, orangeskins and coyote chase them off. Not seem them in a long time.”

Dust grinned, showing teeth again. “We fought them too. That’s who our war was against. They’re defeated, and scattered.”

Hashkeh scratches a chin horn, “You fight wolves and you lived? And wolves not come back? You stronger than you look, thinskin. Maybe good we not fight. Have question. Your four legs. What you use them for?”

“Lots of things. (***We use them to haul small sleds - pending your okay over on discord.) Most of these things come from different kinds of goat-- the four-legs. This,” he pats the fabric. “From fur. Jerky, from meat, and alcohol, from milk. Pipes, from bones. And some are our friends.” Dust nodded at Pebble. “She likes the little one you took.”

Hashkeh slumps a little, “You not ride them?”

“Children do, sometimes,” Pebble volunteered. “We’re too big, as adults.”

“Sometimes?” He turns his head a little, “Coyotes have four leg animals. Bigger than yours. They chase us down with them. Very fast, too fast to get away from. Thought maybe they could help.”

“The big ones are horses. Goats are sturdy. They eat anything, and all parts of them are useful. Horses are fast but fragile.” Pebble clicked her tongue, considering. “Horses are faster. We can try teaching some of the calmer ones to accept a rider, but I don’t know if it will work. Your best bet is probably to set traps.”

“They not find us,” Hashkeh grins, “Never find Machakw camp unless we do something stupid. Pebble, Dust, Steve… I think we trade. Will be more war, coyotes not gone. First friend better than second enemy.”

“Agreed. No war is best, but if there must be, better to have friends and allies by our side.”

A goat bleats in the distance.

Hashkeh nods, “I will tell my gatherers to bring things to you for trade. Lee’Shaa will come too, teach language and learn from you. Bring smart ones, trade information. I think this will be good, but there is one more thing.”

Hashkeh gives Dust a grave look, “I did something wrong. I thought you coyotes, thought you had hurt us. I killed one of yours, when not needed. Thought it was revenge, it was not. It was my mistake, and I took blood from you. So, I will give you blood in return.”

Hashkeh points to Tik’Tak, who flinches. Pebble braces to lunge. She likes Tik’Tak.

“This one. Tik’Tak is yours now. His blood will replace the blood I shed in anger. You do whatever you want with him.”

That… was unexpected.

The Dreamdust elves stare somewhat awkwardly at Tik’Tak.

“We appreciate the gesture, and hold no anger towards you for your mistake.” Dust clears his throat, looking at Tik’Tak. “Are you willing to join us? You are welcome to live with us no matter what, but no one is clan unless they want to be.”

Tik’Tak glances nervously at Hashkeh, “I think I better go with you. Hashkeh get mad if you say no. I am fine, you nice. Will be good. Promise.” He imitates a smile nervously.

Pebble cheers. “Woo! New brother! Welcome to the clan.”

Lee’Shaa speaks, “Tik’Tak can serve as a communicator between our two clans. He can also find us, when he needs to. We will still be in hiding, but we will trade with you. Tik’Tak can tell us of anything he learns, we will tell Tik’Tak of what we learn. This way we can… maybe be friends. You should leave now. We will arrive with trade soon.”

She pauses, “You are patient, wise. Perhaps there is a future with hope in it for both of us. Until we meet again, tall ones.”

“We will look forward to seeing you again soon, and learning some of your wisdom. I hope for good futures for all of us.” Dust nodded to her. “Until we meet again.”

The group of dreamdust elves leaves the Machakw camp, Tik’Tak at the lead. He is silent for a time, but then turns to point back at the Machakw camp.

You can’t see a damned thing.

“Told you we sneaky.” He grins.