The man's face changes instantly to a mild mixture of surprise and embarrassment. There is a moment of silence as he processes the information and developes an appropriate response.

He nods at Shaelthin and his voice is proper, his expression betraying nothing of either his previous disdain or his subsequent surprise. "Pardon, sir. If you are making a routine delivery, I can take the parcel. If the delivery is of a sensative nature, then I invite you to enter the waiting room and I send a servant to my mistress with a message announcing your arrival."

He pulls the door widely open and steps aside, ushering the caprataur into a comfortable room that is carpeted in a crimson that matches the couches and cushions that line all of the walls. There are oak tables beside the couches. One is topped with a bowl of fruit, another with a vase of crimson roses, and a third has a very small bowl of small, dark chocolates. The walls are hung with tapestries and the room is lit with crystal lamps that sit on raised sconces on the walls.

"Have a seat, or, um...," he looks over the goat-man's physique and quails a bit, "make yourself comfortable in what way you see fit," he recovers himself with a bow and leaves Shaelthin alone in the room.

When he leaves the strange man, the attendant, Janus, calls one of the serving ladies and gives her the message that a goat-man by the name of Shaelthin is here with a delivery.

Taria is luxuriating in a long, silken housecoat, still enjoying the high of her magic, when the serving girl delivers the message. She immediately calls for attendants to dress her properly to receive guests. She dons a royal blue gown and makes her way down to the parlor.

The noblewoman saunters into the room with a smile to Shaelthin. As she passes Shaelthin, her strongly scented hair leaves a strong waft of a spicily sweet scent. She sits herself, half laying, on one of the couches. It would have annoyed Taria if she had noticed that her hair had just enough difference in shade from the surrounding room that it clashed mildly and didn't display her in her best possible light. However, it seems that she hadn't noticed that oversight.

"I am glad you could make it," she grins up at him, her eyes heavily lidded and her face gleaming.

"Thank you," Shaelthin replied, trying to mimic the man's bow as the servant departed, leaving him in the room. If the Lady Taria would be a moment, then that would give him a chance to examine the room, and so he did. The seats were not exactly shaped for him anyway; he would have been able to get comfortable, but he was not sure if his cloven hooves would be welcome on the upholstery.

Slowly, he wandered around the room, taking in as many of the details as he could without touching anything. The carpet and matching cushions. The hanging tapestries. The lights on the walls. The decorations on the tables. He had seen some human dwellings from doorways while making deliveries, but the shaman was not accustomed to being invited inside. He almost felt rude just walking on the carpet - among his people, floors were left uncovered, since hooves almost invariably ended up dirty by the end of the day, and so it was easier to sweep a blank floor.

His eyes widened and he turned towards the doorway as he heard Taria enter the room; she looked quite different tonight than she had at the market the previous morning, both in appearance and in spirit. While women of his tribe, and men as well, sometimes, would wear scented oils in their hair, the particular one the noblewoman wore tonight was not one with which Shaelthin was familiar. The shaman's brows furrowed slightly in thought as he inhaled deeply and tried to place whatever individual plants and musks that had gone into the mixture.

"Thank you for allowing me in," he replied after a moment, returning his gaze to her and smiling. "I realized I have not seen the interior of a human home before tonight."

Abruptly, the caprataur recalled his package, and unslung the leather pouch from his shoulder. He opened it as he walked slowly towards Taria, then offered her the wrapped fabric within. "Please let me know if it is not perfectly up to your expectations, and I shall redo it."

Taria nods smoothly at the caprataur. "Shaelthin, is it? I must be sure the servants didn't botch the pronunciation when they introduced me to your name. I apologize for not having the forethought to ask at the market, but I was a little overexcited." She takes the package and holds it while she continues. "Yes, we humans tend to live in excesses of luxury and material delights. I suppose it would be a bit strange to most beings. Probably over extravagant." She motions around the room and shrugs. "Do, please, make yourself comfortable. What would help? Cushions perhaps? I can't have you tiring yourself out while we have our discourse."

While she waits for him to reply, she unfurls the cloak and makes a small sound of pleasure. She runs her fingers up and down the weave with a grin of appreciation. "You do such fine work."

"I apologize for not properly introducing myself," Shaelthin added, bowing his head and touching his forehead with his fingertips as a gesture of humility. Then, looking up at her again, he went on, saying, "Yes, my name rings true upon your lips." Maybe it was because he was not surrounded by people, but somehow his traditional greetings sounded less strange when he spoke them to the Lady Taria. Not that the shaman ever felt ashamed of where he had come from, but he had been stared at often enough for what were apparently odd turns of phrase among humans.

Realizing he must have been staring at her or into space past her while he was thinking, the shaman turned his head quickly to look at the cushions Taria was indicating with her hand. "They look comfortable. Thank you," he said perhaps a bit hurriedly as he first knelt forward on his front knees, then tucked his hind legs back up underneath himself, and leaned a little against one of the scarlet pillows. His stomach fluttered a little with nervousness and excitement at being asked to stay for conversation, too. The room, let alone the whole house, amazed him.

"Thank you," Shaelthin replied with a nod at the Lady's compliment. "You are too kind to me. I merely work the craft of my people with the same care my father taught me to show." He chuckled a little and added, "My people have not traded with humans very much at all until recently, but it seems your liking for luxury proves beneficial for us. We believe every piece should be made with utmost care so that it can be enjoyed to the greatest extent, and you are willing to show great generosity in offers for quality work."

The caprataur sighed a little, but smiled. "It would seem that more exchange in the future, between my tribe and yours, would benefit both of us." He suddenly felt a bit awkward, recalling that he had come to Lady Taria's residence to find who to talk to in order to keep humans from his tribe lands. After a few months among humans, though, Shaelthin found himself at least a little more willing to exchange and bargain rather than simply fence the humans out.

"... Do you mind if I smoke a bit?" he inquired as he realized he was fidgeting with his hands.

Taria nods at Shaelthin's greetings and smiles to herself when he is distracted to staring. After the goat-man makes himself comfortable, the pale woman sits deeply on the couch and while she listens to him speak, she pulls out her braids, one by one, until she is surrounded by a curtain of waving red ringlets, the oil keeping each separated from the other. The spicy smell once again fills the room. She tips her head back, smiling, and says, "I can see how it would benefit everyone for your people and mine to work together, the problem is that many people don't see your tribes as people. I know that is not fair and there is no reason for it, except that many men are afraid of anything that is different from themselves."

She nods when he asks to smoke and stands up, pulls open a hidden drawer in the wall, and pulls out a womanly, delicate pipe and an herbal mix. She loads the pipe and pulls out a long sliver of wood to light on the candle. With a smooth motion, she lights the stick and brings it to the pipe, drawing deeply and savoring the heady fumes. She watches curiously to see what the caprataur smokes and reminds herself to ask to try some if it doesn't smell too noxious. As it was, the herbs she was smoking had a very pleasant aroma, almost like an incense.

She settles back in and turns to Shaelthin again. "Now, you must tell me everything. I can get you into the castle and have you meet important people, easily, but unless I understand your purpose completely, I cannot judge in what circumstances you would be most likely to win your way." Her face is thoughtful and calculating as she sips her pipe. She was a home in this kind of intrigue. She loved a challenge.

Shaelthin focused his attention on his pipe for a moment as he filled it with herbs and lit it. Much as he had been waiting for this discussion process to begin, he was also deeply anxious. However, he knew that he had been chosen for the job of initiating the dialogue by his people because he was the shaman, and the spirits had not taken the decision to select him lightly. If this turned out well, Shaelthin would be forever remembered in the songs of his people, yet if he failed, he knew that he would be hated by every one of his tribesmen until the day no more of them would ever sing of the past.

He took a long drag on the pipe and peered contemplatively at the ceiling for a moment, holding his breath before exhaling the cloud of distinctly blue smoke. Almost immediately, he saw the shapes of the spirits beginning to become visible around the edges of the cloud, and Shaelthin took some comfort in the reminder of their presence. They would not allow him to fail, for they guided his hooves.

A more relaxed smile settled across his features, and he spoke, saying, "Many of my fellows from Those of Deft Hands and Hooves have never spoken with a human before. A few of us trade, but only rarely at that. There are some who think you all beastly as well. The spirits have told me, however, that if there is trust built early, then there should be no reason for either of our tribes to fear."

For a moment, Shaelthin chewed thoughtfully on the end of his pipe while he decided how to explain it all. Then he continued: "There is a human town near where my people reside. I believe they call it Hillcross, since it lies near the foothills. We live in the mountains above, and none of the stories I was told as a child ever mentioned humans venturing up into the mountains for any reason." He sipped at the pipe again. "Last spring, we saw men starting to climb the bottoms of the mountains. Those of the women who went to town to trade asked the villagers what interest they held in the area, meaning no offense beyond simple curiosity. Several of them received harsh words, but the news reached the tribe through them that the men were interested in iron. Our mountains' hearts hold veins of the metal, and we have known this, but we do not often work the metal ourselves. There is another tribe a distance away from us, the Ones of Fiery Horns and Hammers, trade us for weapons, but I do not know if they have met men yet."

At this point, Shaelthin stopped in his tale to allow the Lady Taria to take it in, and ask any questions she might have. The shaman had a thousand himself, but for now, he had to make sure his meaning was as clear as the fresh-melted spring snow. Any misunderstandings along the way could be deadly.

Taria sipped on her pipe as she listened to the story. She nodded and remained silent as he continued his story.

"In previous times, the humans never seemed to care to venture up our mountains, as nothing they cultivated would grow there. So you must understand we lack a way to properly conduct negotiations," he continued, gesturing a little with the long pipe in one hand. "The leaders of the human town refused to meet with me or any of our other elders, and so I was sent here to get the attention of the governor's superior. I was sent as a representative of my tribe, but I also hope to get some sort of precedents set for situations such as these if they arise again in the future."

Shaelthin finished, and realized his heart was pounding; he half-wondered if the Lady Taria could hear it like he could hear it in his own ears. As he focused his full attention on maintaining his composure, his hand shook ever so slightly from the effort. The shaman sucked in more of the blue smoke from his pipe and reminded himself again that, if he was not fit for this task, he would not have been chosen by the spirits. They reminded him of this as well, as they became gradually clearer in the smoke before his eyes.

[color=darkblue] Taria's sharp eyes didn't miss the nervousness or the passion of the questing man. She took note and filed it away in her mind for future reference.
[i]"So, I am guessing that you wish to be introduced in a way that will garner respect and not simply amusement... perhaps I can manage that. I will attempt to excite the court with the idea of a foreign and exotic envoy. I do wish that you had some more people and some finery to put on a show, but I may be able to manage some bit of an honor guard and I can have some show of exotic wealth produced by my servants, under your care and direction. It should be resonant with your culture, but it will have to be enhanced in order to impress the flashy people with something they have never yet seen. Once I have the excitement built up and the people absolutely titillating with anticipation, we can use a group of my servants to produce you and your "wealth" to the court. The palace will have no choice but to hear you because the people will be on your side. Not because they accept your cause as just, but because you excite their need for intrigue and exoticism. You will have to deal with the royalty with your own charm, but I will at least get them to hear you. Now, this won't be ready for some time, but it will be worth the patience. It will be customary for you to gift the palace with the wealth you bring, and this will be mostly from my coffers, so I will ask a further favor of you. I ask that my household be considered of first priority in the opening of trade between our peoples, so that we can both profit from this investment." She spoke this all clearly and confidently, as if she had worked it all out beforehand. She sits back and relaxes, relights her pipe, and puffs on it slowly as she waits for Shaelthin to process the idea and respond.

Shaelthin listened to her speak, considering her words but worrying at them at the same time. After all the stares he had received since coming to this city, he was sure he would pass for exotic, but as for wealthy... his tribe was made up of simple gatherers, hunters, and weavers. And a single shaman. He knew wealth was important to the humans, but was it the only way to make them listen to him? Did he have to buy their ears?

His head lolled to the side a little and he coughed once on the smoke before taking another long drag on his pipe. The spirits whispered their welcome advice into Shaelthin's waiting ears, reassuring him somewhat. They were always there for him. They possessed great power; it was not wealth the humans desired to see, but power. Wealth was just usually the easiest way of displaying that power. Those of Deft Hands and Hooves counted their wealth in the quality of their weaving - as long as Shaelthin could provide some of the material in cloth, the spirits would give him the rest of the power necessary to impress the humans. The Lady said she would aid him in providing gifts, as well.

Nodding in response to the words only he could hear, the shaman grew more confident again. He focused again on the Lady Taira. "Do others like my carved bracelets as you do? Is that exotic? As long as I had time to work, I could produce the exotic wealth you desire with my own hands." He smiled lazily and added, "After I complete your order."

He might have taken a bit of pause at her request for priority in trade, had he been thinking a bit more clearly on the real world. The spirits just told him that humans wanted goods just as his own people wanted space and safety, and that it was a fair trade. And, even as he was, Shaelthin had no reason to trust any other humans any more than he trusted this Lady who had invited him within her walls.

"There are far fewer of us than there are of you, even just in this single city," he told her. "We would only have so many bolts of cloth to spare, however, we can allow your household first priority. You are, after all, the first to show real interest."

Smiling patiently as he takes it all in, Talia watched him smoke his pipe in silence.

When Shaelthin mentioned the bracelets, her eyes narrowed slightly. "I would suggest that you hold that which is secret and that which is magic close to your chest. There aren't always those who will respect it as I do. The design, the craftsmanship, these are perfect ideas. Also, the fabric. Fabric is wealth, especially these of such fine artistry." She pets her own new bolt of cloth. "Do you do other kinds of carvings? Something that can be produced in large scale, animals or some such?"

She nods, going very serious for a moment, "I do not intend on tearing apart your economy. I hope to stimulate it in ways that it has not been stimulated before. If I open trade and your people are only able to keep up with my orders, then we shall just have to raise the price on this fine cloth even higher because access will be limited. Nonetheless, I will be sure your people profit on this account as much as I do, and more." She relaxes at this point, notices her pipe has gone out, taps it out gently, fills it with a different fragrant herb, and lights it, producing a faintly greenish smoke.

Settled back a bit more comfortably against the cushions now, Shaelthin scarcely noticed that his own pipe had gone out as well. He tapped the ashes lightly into his palm, then set the pipe aside before rubbing his hands together to dust both of them lightly with the pale grey ashes. Then he took the carved pipe again, and turned it over idly as he spoke:

"Most of the carving we do stays in families. Toys for newborns. Bracelets for the new shaman from his teacher." He glanced down at the wooden bangles around his own wrists, thinking for a brief moment. "Girls make beads sometimes. Do humans buy wooden beads?" He reached up to point at some of the strands of them in his horns, threaded on colored skeins along with colored glass ones; Shaelthin did not bother trying to take them out as they seemed wrapped there to stay. "Small ones, and simple ones, usually. For patience."

He liked this thought of stimulating economy. Having one in the first place seemed... civilized, and not all in a bad way. It would unleash numerous new things upon his people that the shaman himself was only beginning to understand after a few months among the humans. But the humans did not seem to be going anywhere, nor was his own tribe at all willing to pick up and leave their ancestral homeland, so in the end, it would be best to learn to blend and harmonize. The spirits showed him visions of his people prospering in spite of the inevitable difficulties, and assured him that it was a good course of action to take.

"Perhaps our brother tribes elsewhere in the mountains will join us in open contact with you humans as well," he mused, though part of him wanted to be sure that his own people would prosper first. Shaelthin's mind was racing with excitement in spite of his relaxed and almost lazy outwards appearance. The spirits asked for his patience in matters, not to rush things, but it was difficult to think of waiting any longer with so much to do now.

"How soon might I be able to have an audience with the king?" the shaman inquired.

Taria's eyes were dark and thoughtful beneath her coppery lashes. She closed them for a moment then nodded her head.

"I think I can have things ready within a couple of months. Come back tomorrow, and we can go over things with a few craftsmen and aristans. The beads are a good idea. If they are as finely made as your fabrics, there are many who would appreciate the quality. We can talk more with the artisans. I am sure they will know how to take your ideas and make them bigger for the court."

She lapsed into silence again, put down her pipe and stretched her arms above her head.

"I am glad you came, I look forward to moving forward with this."

She stood and rang the bell for a servant to see Shaelthin out.