Journey to Kaelmoor
The sun had barely risen above the treetops when Voltaro called his council together.
The news from Dargel—the herbalist leader—echoed through his thoughts.
Kaelmoor scouts observing the borders… that meant something was shifting.
And in this world, kingdoms didn’t watch quietly unless they were preparing to act.
Inside Ashenveli’s central hall, Raven leaned against the wooden table, arms crossed.
Selena stood beside Voltaro, her staff lightly glowing with frost-blue light.
Krogar stood like a towering wall, his newly appointed mining-chief badge hanging proudly from his chest. Heldric and Eran were nearby, both waiting for orders.
Voltaro spread a map across the table. Dense forests, mountain paths, and rivers filled the parchment, stretching from Ashenveli to the vast territory of Kaelmoor.
“We travel to Kaelmoor kingdom,” Voltaro announced calmly.
Raven raised an eyebrow. “Peacefully?”
“Peacefully,” Voltaro repeated, “but with purpose.”
Selena nodded slowly. “To make agreements?”
“Exactly,” Voltaro said. “If Kaelmoor is watching us, it’s better to control the narrative than let rumors shape our image. We’ll make a trade contract with them—tools, food, herbs, supplies. If they see Ashenveli as a rising trading hub rather than a threat, it may buy us time.”
Krogar grunted. “And if they see us as weak?”
Voltaro smiled faintly. “Then we show them the truth.”
Raven chuckled. “Sounds like our usual plan. Try peace first, fight if they force us.”
Voltaro nodded. “We leave the day after tomorrow. Prepare supplies. Choose your best gear. Eran, you’ll scout ahead. Krogar—”
“Yes, my lord,” Krogar said with a respectful bow.
“You stay here,” Voltaro continued. “Ashenveli needs its mining chief. And your presence among the orcs keeps them unified.”
Krogar accepted the order without hesitation. “I will protect the mine with my life.”
Heldric placed a hand on the orc’s arm. “And I’ll keep the forge burning until you return, Voltaro.”
The meeting ended with determined nods. Outside, Ashenveli buzzed with activity as preparations began. The villagers packed rations of dried meat, preserved herbs, and freshly baked bread. Orc workers helped carry crates of tools and sample metal works to present to the Kaelmoor kingdom.
The next two days passed in a blur.
On the morning of their departure, the village gathered near the gate.
Voltaro stood tall in a reinforced dark leather coat Heldric crafted, with light metal plates hidden beneath the fabric.
Raven wore his black cloak, knives hidden at his belt.
Selena wore a frost-blue robe woven with enchanted threads to support her magic.
Eran arrived with a rolled map and a scouting bag slung across his shoulder.
Krogar stepped forward and bowed deeply. “Lord Voltaro, grant me your command for this village while you’re gone.”
Voltaro clapped a hand on Krogar’s shoulder. “Lead well. And keep the mine safe.”
“I will,” Krogar vowed, straightening with pride.
Selena approached the orc children who had grown attached to her training lessons. She patted their heads gently. “Practice while I’m gone. And don’t break anything.”
The children nodded aggressively, promising nothing.
Raven snorted. “They’re gonna break everything.”
“Probably,” Selena admitted.
Voltaro raised his hand, and the village grew silent.
“We leave now. Ashenveli will stand strong until we return.”
The gate opened, and the group stepped into the morning sunlight. The villagers watched until the forest swallowed their silhouettes.
The journey toward Kaelmoor was long, winding through hills, dense forests, and the rocky plains that bordered the kingdom’s territory. Eran scouted ahead, returning every few hours with updates.
“Tracks on the northern ridge,” he reported once. “Light movement. Likely hunters.”
“River beasts blocking the southern pass,” he said another time. “We’ll go around.”
After two days, the path widened, and a towering stone road came into view. It stretched across the land like a vein of civilization, guiding travelers toward one of the ten great kingdoms: Kaelmoor.
Kaelmoor was known for two things: unity among demi-humans and beasts, and their strict tradition of strength-based rule. The kingdom’s banner—a horned wolf—fluttered atop stone watchtowers stationed along the border.
As Voltaro’s group approached, armored sentries noticed them. Their armor was unlike the cold steel of human kingdoms; instead, Kaelmoor soldiers wore a blend of leather, scales, and enchanted beastbone. Their eyes were sharp, calculating.
“Halt,” one guard barked. “State your names and purpose.”
Voltaro stepped forward, calm and confident. “I am Voltaro Ashenveil, leader of the Ashenveli territory. We seek trade negotiations with King Toran Kaelmoor.”
The guards exchanged glances. One muttered, “Ashenveli…? Isn’t that the new settlement near the southern ridge?”
Another whispered, “The one with humans and orcs living together… strange.”
Voltaro heard everything, but ignored it with the ease of a seasoned leader.
The head guard cleared his throat. “Wait here. I will send a messenger.”
The group was asked to stand aside near the border wall. Raven scanned every movement, ready for a fight. Selena remained calm, though her fingertips held faint frost. Eran looked around with curiosity—Kaelmoor was unlike anything he had seen.
Within minutes, a mounted soldier approached at high speed. He stopped before Voltaro, eyes sharp.
“You seek an audience?” the soldier asked.
“Yes,” Voltaro said. “I come peacefully and with trade offers.”
The soldier studied Voltaro’s group for a moment longer before nodding. “Follow me. You are granted entry.”
The gates of Kaelmoor opened slowly with a deep rumbling.
Inside, the kingdom stunned them.
Massive stone buildings mixed with wooden structures adorned with beast carvings. Colorful banners fluttered on high towers. Markets bustled with demi-humans—foxfolk, wolfkin, beastmen, minotaur traders, and even feathered birdfolk walking gracefully above the crowd.
Beast riders patrolled the streets—large wolves, horned bears, and feline mounts gliding through pathways with discipline.
Selena whispered, “It’s… beautiful.”
Raven admitted, “This is impressive. I expected more claws and chaos.”
Voltaro smiled faintly. “Kaelmoor is strong because they embrace their diversity.”
The soldier escorted them toward the grand palace at the center of the kingdom. Its architecture resembled a fortress, built with reinforced obsidian stones and silver wolf statues guarding the entrance.
Inside the palace courtyard, they were asked to wait once more.
Minutes later, a door opened, and a figure stepped out.
He was tall—taller even than most soldiers—muscular, with golden fur partially covering his arms. His eyes glowed amber, and two wolf-like ears stood atop his head. A thick cape made from white wolf pelt hung over his shoulders.
King Toran Kaelmoor.
As he approached, Voltaro felt the weight of a leader who commanded respect through sheer presence.
“So,” King Toran said, his deep voice resonating through the hall, “you are the man who created a village of humans and orcs without bloodshed.”
Voltaro bowed slightly. “Yes. I am Voltaro ashburm of Ashenveli.”
“And you come to trade?” Toran asked, arms crossed.
“Yes,” Voltaro said. “Ashenveli has tools, ore, and crafted steel. We wish to offer contracts in exchange for food supplies, herbs, and long-term cooperation.”
Toran studied Voltaro with eyes sharp as blades. “Most small territories beg for protection when facing difficulties. You bring me trade instead. Why?”
Voltaro held Toran’s gaze without faltering. “Because Ashenveli does not intend to be anyone’s burden. We intend to stand as equals. Strong, united, and trustworthy.”
A silence followed.
The court attendants whispered among themselves.
Raven shifted slightly, ready if needed.
Selena waited, breath held.
Then Toran chuckled—a low, rumbling sound.
“Confidence,” the king said. “I like that.”
Voltaro remained silent, waiting for the verdict.
Toran stepped closer. “Show me what Ashenveli offers.”
Raven pulled open one of the crates they brought. Inside were finely crafted tools—chisels, hammers, blades, nails—and even a sample of Heldric’s reinforced metalwork.
Selena opened another crate with herbs the Lyrmont traders gave them as part of their barter.
Voltaro presented a small bar of purified metal from the mine—though not magical ore, as they still kept that secret.
Toran examined each item carefully. His golden eyes gleamed with approval.
“These are excellent,” he said finally. “Better than what most northern villages can produce.”
Raven smirked silently.
Voltaro bowed his head lightly. “We can provide steady shipments. Ashenveli is young, but growing fast.”
Toran crossed his arms again. “And what do you want in return?”
Voltaro met his gaze. “Food supplies for winter. Agricultural seeds. And safe passage for our trade caravans.”
Toran’s tail—barely noticeable before—swished behind him.
“Ashenveli,” the king said slowly, “you are not afraid to make strong requests.”
Voltaro smiled. “Only requests that benefit both sides.”
A long pause followed.
Then King Toran lifted his hand.
“Very well,” he announced. “I accept your offer. Kaelmoor will trade with Ashenveli.”
Voltaro felt the weight lift from his chest.
“You will sign the contract tomorrow,” Toran continued. “Rest tonight within the palace grounds. We will speak more of the future when the sun rises.”
Voltaro bowed deeply. “Thank you, King Toran.”
As the attendants led them to their temporary quarters, Raven whispered, “Well… that went better than expected.”
Selena sighed in relief. “Voltaro… you handled that perfectly.”
Voltaro simply gazed up at the towering palace ceiling.
“This is only the beginning,” he murmured. “Ashenveli just stepped into the eyes of a kingdom.”
And in the shadows behind a stone pillar, two Kaelmoor scouts watched the group quietly… whispering among themselves about the rising lord of Ashenveli.
Too be continue...