After a brief silence, another elf approached.

"Baldur, we have great news!"

"What is it, Pan?"

"Our scouts have intercepted a group of men! We seized their metal, thanks to the Nixie's Blood Letting spell!"

Trakka jolts and whips her head towards Pan.

"Men!? What were they wearing?", she demanded urgently.

"We could only discern their masks. They wore black cloaks," he replies truthfully. Trakka's heart sank as she observed the male elves rifling through the belongings of the fallen men. Some of the elves stripped the clothes from the bodies for bandages, while others started melting down the steel from their weapons. Trakka leapt up to intervene.

"You fools! We need the metals for weapons!"

A short, stocky Copper elf approached and shook his head.

"We have all the weapons we need; right now, we're making a griddle!" he interjects, as the others began hammering away at the molten steel.

Baldur approached as Trakka was at her wit's end.

"This is bad... those men were definitely barbarians... We need to prepare for an attack, and all these fivas care about is food!" she ranted in a panic. Looking around, she noticed the elves and women preparing food instead of working on their shelters. Even the guards were occupied with tasks like chopping firewood rather than standing guard over the settlement. It was a mess...

"Trakka, may I have a word about this situation?" Baldur implores softly.

"Go ahead... it seems no one is listening to me anyway..." she mutters.

"Please forgive us, but as elves, we know the importance of being well-nourished. Without food, our magic is less effective."

"I get that, but it's a big risk to consume all our supplies before the enemy even shows up."

Baldur laughs softly as he sits beside Trakka, gently holding Menia, who is asleep in her wrap on his back.

"Trakka, trust in our ways. We elves grasp the gravity of your situation."

"If that's true, why not take up watch? We continue to provide shelter and food without seeing any effort in return. Do you harbor some ill intent!? HAS THIS ALL BEEN A RUSE!?", she rants before taking catching her breath.

He sifts through his hair, extracting a long red strand from his tresses. Baldur murmurs a brief prayer, presses a kiss to the lock, and carefully replaces it. His gaze drops to the slumbering Menia, her hair a perfect match to the peculiar strand. Taking a deep breath, he begins to recount his tale.

"Years ago, my wife was taken and sold by humans. I was too feeble to rescue her, starved as I was for years. When I finally found her... she had succumbed to a human ailment from..." Baldur clenches his jaw and closes his eyes tightly, haunted by the recollection. "From... when she was used as a sex slave...She died...two days after I got her back...". He continued, his eyes betraying the emotion he tried to conceal. Trakka watched, then glanced down at Menia, who, despite her frailty in slumber, still gripped her father's cloak tightly.

"I had despised humans for the longest time... But I made a vow that if I encountered humans who bore us no ill will... I would aid them. After all, I desire a future for her," he confessed, gazing at Menia.

"....I know that I struggle to trust you...", Trakka laments, looking at Menia, "But, why would you take the risk with us...?"

"...Honestly, I don't believe in my lifetime we will break our curse...", Baldur admits. "The least I can do, is give my daughter a future where she can eat...even if I never live to see it."

"But you need more than food and a couple of elves to make a difference...", Trakka sighs, watching as a parian woman nurses an elven infant as the mother is close by. "The barbarians will be fully equipped...ruthless...demonic. What chance do we have....?" 

"We have magic.", Baldur reassures, earning a scoff from Trakka.

"You can grow crops and resurrect pigs; I doubt that would intimidate the barbarians..."

"Trust me, Trakka, when I say this is necessary. If we elves are sufficiently nourished, some of that magic could obliterate a human civilization overnight," Baldur persisted.

Trakka was uncertain. She had witnessed the proof of the elves' magic in resurrecting life, yet she doubted if it would suffice...

"Do you promise to protect us? You're not leading us into a betrayal, are you?" Trakka asks sincerely.

"If I were to betray you, then my daughter would have no future, only a brief respite from the curse of hunger," Baldur explains, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I swear on my life, I will fight for your people to live alongside us if it means peace for both our groups.". Trakka notices the weariness in his eyes; it's evident, after all he has endured, that he is desperate for a permanent solution for his daughter. She feels pity for him, truly, and for a moment, she views the elf as a father at his wit's end. Not wanting to dwell on the doom and gloom, she reluctantly gets back on topic to the issue at hand.

"The barbarians possess muskets...and mercenaries..." she began, "What's your assessment of that?"

Baldur pondered, then stood and surveyed the assembly of elves. Observing the various elven races before him, an idea struck him.

"We have Nixies and Earth Elves, perhaps we could create a moat to fend off invaders.," he suggests.

"Is that the extent of you fivas' abilities?"

"I am a Lumen elf as well, skilled with both sword and spear—"

"But we need more than just one elf with weapons; I'm uncertain if the others are trained for combat," Trakka interjects.

"Have faith, Trakka. Just have faith in us. Tell me," he begins, then kneels, "what can we do to assure you that we are capable of protecting everyone?"

Trakka pauses, surveying the disordered scene of tents, women, and children. She sighs and nods.

"Demonstrate how you prioritize the safety of women and children. That might earn my trust.," she concedes, her head shaking with concern.

Baldur rises, affirming her request, and guides her forward.

"What are you doing?!" she exclaims.

"Prioritizing our women and children.," he replies with a chuckle, leading her to a large tent the elves had been constructing at the settlement's heart.

"Is this where all the cloth has been going?" Trakka asks, astounded., "When were you building this!?"

"I didn't build this, the Copper elves did.", he remarks, as a Copper elf passes by carrying a hammer and tongs. "They work fast with these types of things."

"And you expect this tent to be enough to protect us?"

"Yes, the women and children will stay in this tent while we fight," 

As they entered, Copper elves were constructing supports and beams inside. The Parian and elven women and children moved their belongings around, settling in. Despite the chaos, it was an improvement over the disarray outside.

"That doesn't explain how long you have been constructing this.." Trakka inquires.

"I'd hazard a guess that the Copper elves started working on it the moment you let us in your settlement."

"That quickly?!"

"It's... a habit," Baldur confessed sheepishly. "Lumen elves live in lodges, usually made of wood by the Copper elves. There's not enough time to cut and sand the trees, so with all the fabric you had, they made a fabric lodge."

"Yes, but it's a huge target," Trakka acknowledges. "One spark and it will go up in flames."

"That's what our Copper elven friends are for.," he says with a chuckle as they were approached by a small yet muscular elf.

"Grymm, how is the building going?" he asks.

"We're dealin' with old sheep cotton! How ya even managed a scrap for loincloth with this stuff is a miracle! Nothing like an old wives' reinforcen' spell and it'll be fireproof!" the Copper elf exclaims quickly before scolding a slacking elf, "Oi! Get back to grindin' the geode residue!" and then storms off.

Trakka was somewhat taken aback by the liveliness some of the elves displayed.

"A moment ago, you were all starving and mere bones," she remarks as signs of life began to emerge around the settlement.