“Dealing with the Phalanx formation of the Elite Ogres isn’t easy. Elven arrows can’t penetrate the thick shields, even with strong abilities, so almost all of the defensive fire gets rejected. The defenders at Sunnybrook do use defensive siege weapons, but the most effective way we’ve found of countering the Elite Force is the Ogres is distracting them.”

“Distracting a Phalanx of Elite Ogres? If that was so easy, we wouldn’t have so many problems with them.” The Fae Alliance emissary laughs scornfully.

“As you may, or may not already know, the Puppet Master Class is a summoning class. One of the creatures I can Summon are Rock Trolls. The very sight of them enrages the Ogre forces, so if we attack from the side of the Phalanx, large sections will turn to face us and break ranks. Once the shield wall is broken the Elven defenders have a much easier time with them.” Cain explains.

“Real Rock Trolls? Or just something that looks like them?” The Dark Dwarven King asks, intrigued.

Cain dismisses the Wrath Bringers and summons Rock Trolls in their place, with a darker gray skin than the Stone Trolls of the Fae Alliance, and both larger and heavier set in stature, they’re unmistakable as a different breed of Troll.

“Now that’s a thing of beauty. Just look at them, bloody enormous they are.” The King laughs, but the Fae Alliance don’t seem to share in the humor.

“Why did you start with Demons if you had perfectly good Fae options to Summon?” Nimuet the fairy asks.

Cain adds him to the Summon list, finding that Fairy Wind Mage is a Lesser Golem Summon and not a Companion, so they are not a race transfers can get, while Pixie is.

“If things turned ugly right at the start, I wanted it to be clear who was attacking who. No rumor mongers giving ambiguous descriptions. With giants Demons and Trolls present, the stories descriptions should have been very clear if things could not be decided with words.”

“That’s a good idea. Can you do any others?” Nimuet asks.

“I can do a fair number of other forms, as well as some small creatures with a separate spell.” Cain shrugs.

“Are you mighty enough to Summon a Fairie to fight alongside you?” Another choice asks Cain, and a Fairy Girl with cute pink and white wings comes into sight.

[Summon Lesser Golem Form Added: Fairy Arcane Princess]

“Would you like to see a few of my smaller summons? They’re really quite adorable.” Cain smiles at the Fairie Princess.

“Yes, let’s see how your summoning skills are. A few Trolls would hardly swing a battle.”

Not entirely true with the amount of added toughness and damage Cain has stacked into them, making each a party of Trolls in their own right, but Cain feels like having a bit of fun, not arguing. So he sets his Lesser Golem to Fairy Arcane Princess and brings a dozen pink and white winged tiny flying creatures to his side. Each is an almost exact replica of the one in front of him, even the facial features are nearly exact, close enough they could be twins.

“What do you think, Princess? Aren’t my summons absolutely adorable? I’m very proud of these ones, the pink and white is just the cutest thing ever. Almost as lovely as your own.” Cain manages to say with a straight face while the girls send him ‘WTF are you doing?’ type text messages in friends chat and try to hide their horror.

“You’ve made your point, you can stop picking on the Princess now. A dozen Fairy warriors would be pretty impressive though.” Nimuet laughs and Cain dismisses the Fairies.

“If we’re done bickering, we can get to the trading, yes? I’d like to get done before dinner time.” The Dwarven King says, trying to hide his amusement.

With the tension broken between the groups for the moment, the rest of the afternoon goes smoothly. All three groups check their valuation books for every item and then a price is agreed, and a final quantity for the trade is decided once all the values are set, trading directly items for items, with a heavy bias towards weapons and armor coming from the Dwarves, but a wide variety of goods from the Fae Alliance.

“I’m glad we could work that out. I’ll be happy to mediate again if I’m still in town, but for tonight we should get these young ladies home to eat and sleep.” Cain tells both leaders with a bow and the Dwarven king nods in agreement.

“Settle in well then, I take it you didn’t have too many problems finding a hotel?”

“We actually never made it that far. A friendly Matron of a Rooming House took us in just after we arrived in town and we’ve been staying there.” Dimnys giggles.

“Ah, old Bertha then. That’s what the messenger was on about. Don’t let her friendly face fool you, she’s a tough customer that one. My very own Aunt.” The advisor with the King laughs.

“Oh, should we tell her you’ll be along for dinner then? I’m sure she’ll be happy to see family and there’s always enough to eat.” Kone says innocently and the Advisor panicks.

“Dug your own grave boy, now go say hello to your Aunt with these fine adventurers.” The King declares, clapping him on the back.

The Fae Alliance members say their goodbyes and take their leave, hauling away a wagon train full of goods, while the Dwarven side has already hauled their gains into the mountain.

“I’ll call on you again if we need, but I think maybe, just maybe you made them see a bit of sense.” The King nods before heading back into the city.

“You know, he’s pretty relaxed for Royalty. But I’m more interested in why you’re afraid of Bertha.” Dimnys says, looking pointedly at the dejected advisor.

“First off, that old woman is the world’s biggest bully. Secondly, she’s been pushing me to get married for almost eighty years now so that she can pass on the Rooming House to my children. I’m the only child of her sister, and she lost all her sons in battle, so there’s nobody else left to keep it in the direct family line.” The Advisor sighs.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. A few suggestions about wanting grandchildren is the right of the older generation.” Dimnys says with an air of wisdom beyond her years.

They’ve underestimated the Matron though. There’s no fewer than 6 potential suitors waiting for her nephew when they arrive, all amply endowed in the typically stout way of the Dark Dwarven women, all with careers of their own and amused looks in their eyes at the newly arrived bachelor.

“Sit him at the center table ladies. He’s not running away without saying a proper hello to his last living family.” Bertha laughs, bringing out mugs of whiskey for the Dwarves.. He’s in for a long night, but he seems to have hit it off with a particularly buxom leather worker’s daughter, so maybe old Bertha will get those grandchildren he insists she’s after.