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| - "I beg of you, King Tralin," the Brilhado reiterated. "Grant me asylum." Darin looked at the injured Brilhado severely; he was uncertain what to make of the plea for refuge. Tralin was uncertain as well; as a Drakel ruling over a human city he was in an extraordinarily unusual situation as it was, all the more so since he allowed the Drakel to occupy Derenian lands in their frantic search for something to stop the Devourer. Still he maintained an illusion of passivity. "We find your request to be difficult. Our people call for your blood. The Brilhado are responsible for the death of our king, and had they not attacked Deren, the Drakel would not be in the position they now hold. We are mystified. Clearly, you have suffered some great injury, and far be it from me to assume that all members of your race are of one mind and accord. Clearly, your singular presence here indicates that they are not. You have not, however, given me any recourse to explain why I should offer you, ostensibly our greatest enemy, sanctuary within these walls." The Brilhado looked crestfallen. "I feared you would feel that way. I knew it. It is justified, but I had no idea where else to turn or go with this. I assure you I come in peace." "Yes," Darin expressed, shifting his weight nervously. "But we have no reason to expect that your peaceful overtures have anything more than your current state of injury as motive. Worse, they could be an attempt at infiltration into our courts as we are famously forgiving and considerate." "I am as good as dead should I return to my people, Lord Darin. King Tralin, I am anathema to them. I have turned my back upon our tenets, I have defied service to the Devourer. By doing so, I have marked myself. I fled the rite of initiation and it was there that I ran into the dragon as he was rampaging through the hills." "We have heard rumors of Akriloth's rage," Tralin responded. "Certainly, if you interfered in his search, whatever the cause, you would have been the target of his fury, Your injuries are consistent with such a bloody quarrel, but angel though your people appear, they are the Fallen, masters of lies. It will take considerably more then your assurance that you were injured by the dragon while fleeing your people. His rampage takes place a full two continents away, a journey that takes considerable time. Your flight must have been swift indeed to have reached our shores as you did. Subsequent to your encounter, our agents report that the great wyrm has done massive damage throughout the countryside and completely decimated at least one village in his furious search for something. Given the constant fight of the Brilhado to advance their position, we would be likely to believe that you are responsible for the dragon's fury." "I cannot pretend that it is impossible that we were somehow involved, but I was just to be initiated. I do not know anything of whom the Brilhado targeted nor whom their allies are. Yet surely you do not believe that we are the singular source of despair in Lore." "No," Tralin responded. "Indeed, we are well aware that Lore is rampant with those who by direct action, selfishness, or manipulation serve the purpose of the Uncreator. Irrespective of this fact, you are still a Brilhado and the people of Deren scream even now for vindication." "Vindication or revenge?" "In war there can be little differentiation between the two extremes. They share the same root emotion." "Desperation drives people to do many things which are later regretted," the Brilhado responded sadly. "For your people it may be the calling for my head, but for me, alas, it is my flight for Deren; I thought that here of all places I might find rest, I might find acceptance. The Drakel oppress them yet they laud a Drakel king. In no other land are the races so harmonious." "Lore by and large has little problems with racial discord." "Not openly, but in all places there are segregations and separations. There remain suspicions and distrust. Deren has been equated with a utopian ideal." "Draynor did wonders for his people and had he lived you may have found it that simple," Darin responded "I directly sought the destruction of this kingdom before the coming of the undead and yet I now command its armies. Draynor was a great man, but he is dead, dead by Brilhado hands. Where does that leave us but desperation?" "I am sorry. I cannot grant you the respite you ask," Tralin responded. "I must not further alienate the people. Yet I will not dishonor the king's memory by handing you over to them as a sacrifice, either. I know that would disgust him. We will make a way for you to flee the city without our losing the people's faith, but we can do little more." "I will die regardless regretfully. Surely, even now my people seek my blood. Alas, I cannot blame you for your reticence, but I am... Very well... Then we have little time. I will tell you what I know of the dragon's rampage and then we can begin my funeral procession." "A moment, your majesty," Darin asked, touching Tralin’s sleeve. "I beg your forgiveness, Brilhado, but this cannot wait."
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