One would expect that if they had their enemies backed against a wall in desperate need of relief, they would be a bit more poignant about attending negotiations between themselves and the enemy forces on time, but alas, here General Denali was in his tent tapping his feet on the ground and rolling an arrow between his fingers, careful not to break the shaft wooden. Six of his best and brightest men, all dressed in their finest armor, stood in the tent with him, some pacing back and forth while others sharpened and polished their weapons, ready to finish the conquest of Empire City.
Remaining patient despite the enemy negotiators absence was already difficult for Denali and it was even harder to convince his men to sit still and wait. Each of them was hungry, not for their thinly stretched rations but rather for a taste of Emperor McKinnley's blood for what he did to their home territory of Highland. The imperial conquerors that had oppressed them for generations were like injured seals struggling to swim as they bleed into the water, attracting dangerous predators ready to pounce on the opportunity. Every moment wasted waiting was seen as a moment that gave Empire City more time to prepare against the siege of their city.
Denali, however, insisted on waiting a bit longer. He may have been one of the toughest mountaineers in all of Highland but he was meticulous and patient, hence how he managed to get so far. Empire City was cut off from the rest of the territories; Highland, Midland, Frontierland, Coastland, and each of the colonies worked together to take them down and win their independence. The city was not expected to hold out much longer. The time they were taking was likely to formulate some desperate plan but time was not actually on their side; they too were running out of supplies and risked a mass mutiny if they held out for much longer without doing anything. Denali would soon come to realize that I was right about the desperation.
"General, the scouts have spotted a procession carrying white flags headed for our camp," said a messenger at the entrance to my tent.
"Coming from Empire City, Foraker?" I asked, looking forward to the end of my wait.
"Yes, General," replied Foraker excitedly; he too was excited.
"Finally," I grumbled. "Send them straight here.
The messenger left and I awaited the arrival of the negotiator. The rest of my men inside the tent seemed to be reinvigorated, telling jokes about the way they would take their revenge on Empire City if they were to sue for peace. I myself, as the commander of the siege, did not join in and remained focused on getting there in the first place.
"I can't wait to burn down the city just as they did my hometown when we resisted their occupation!" seethed Elbert as he sharpened his sword.
"I'll race the rest of you to the Empire's gold reserves!" guffawed Ranier as he examined his bow for wear and tear.
"You better save some for the people they took it all from," chastized Williamson, pointing an arrow at Ranier's head,
"I, for one, can't wait for the war to be over so we can return to the mountains and celebrate!" chimed Teton happily as he looked between the flaps of my tent.
"Perhaps the rest of you could learn from Teton's example," said Denali. "Let go of your fury and lust for revenge after the war is over so that we can return home and live in peace."
The rest of the soldiers nodded in agreement; Denali was as wise and focused as ever.
About an hour after they were spotted, the procession arrived. Although Emperor McKinnely did not send a sagely, educated negotiator like Denali had expected nor did he send talents of gold to buy me off. Instead, he sent his daughter, Princess Dahlia and about a dozen bodyguards riding the finest-bred horses in the world (by the Midlanders of course before being taken). Dahlia was supposedly the most beautiful woman in the entire empire; not in Denali's opinion of course, he thought that Highlander women were far superior, unlike this useless twig before him. Her skinny body was dressed in a long, white, frilly, and conservative dress that covered every inch of her except for her face and fancy slippers. Her sharp cheekbones, jawline, toplofty demeanor, and silvery hair tied in a bun gave her the look of a young and beautiful, but strict and disciplinary scion of a nobleman, Upon seeing her, Denali did not greet her and bask in her renowned beauty like most men do. Instead, he just laughed and laughed.
"He sent you?" he chuckled dismissively at Dahlia. "What kind of game is he trying to play? Have I failed to make it clear that I hate games?"
"I came of my own accord to speak with you myself," she replied calmly. "My father has been foolish in handling this war and I am going to end it."
"I see, just committing a little bit of treason," he mocked as his men tried to stifle their laughter; Dahlia's guardsmen tried to stare them down but failed to scare even one.
"I believe that we can reach a deal and end this war without him," she reassured Denali without reacting to his assertion.
