The bird fixes Ohanzee with a fierce eye, pecks him hard enough to draw blood, jumps down to the ground and runs out the open door.

Through an open window, Temush's riding Ostrich pokes his head in, makes a loud Ostrich noise, sounding very laughter like and then vanishes too.

All that is left of the war bird is a very black feather, which flows down to land on the tip of Ohanzee's nose.

Angelika laughs at the sight of the bird and when she's finished her drink announces

"The feast will be at Dusk, lets make sure we are well groomed and ready to impress our hosts. I have known these people for many years and trust them as I trust you. When we are in Pavis we will be under their protection."

It's an hour before dusk and time for the Rangers to get ready. Temush, rested somewhat, finds his Ostrich in the company of a completely black juvenile Ostrich, one that looks several months old.

Ohanzee has a new black feather braided into his hair alongside the Raven and Harpy ones as he attends the feast. On seeing the young black ostrich he sidles over to Temush eying the beast "I don't think that your gift likes me that much."

Temush scratches his head-dress (which has been re-wrapped since he rolled in with tufts of black and white hair poking out here and there). "Well,.. " he says "Stomp has a lot of charm for a bird, but He-Amara has turned your hue, and I thought She-Amara said you got him to eat from your hand?"

Amara spent a lot of time getting ready, making sure she was cleaned and combed. She even went as far as using kohl on her eyes. She wanted to make a good impression. She cleaned, washed and repaired her leathers. She hoped she might make a good impression, though equally, she made sure her weapons were cleaned and honed and ready to use as well.

Melock brushes his hair and dusts down his best leathers and wears his rock lizard skin vest to show off his arms and let people see the spiders that crawl around his body. "I plan on telling the kids a story before the feast and as they seem to like my puppets, I will tell the tale of final battle with Tripanandar and sing the praises of Hacha Lor the fallen." He glances at Hoskar, "and if you have no objections Hoskar, I'll tell the tale of Ongar the Unstung after the feast to everyone." Melock turns to Ohanzee, "Are you well enough to help out? maybe do the shadow puppets?"

Leather thongs are drawn, tightening vambraces.

Knives are oiled.

Breathing calmed.

And prayers to dark gods uttered....

Henal readies himself for the feast, washing himself over and brushing his hair before putting on his cleanest leathers. His helmet gleams after being polished with dust to remove dirt and marks.

He even brushes his reluctant cats tying coloured strings around their necks to contrast with their fur.

Ohanzee snorts in response "Not exactly eat from my hand, more like eat my hand!" and he shows the diamond shaped cut on the palm.


He shakes his head "No, that's your story, before I joined."

Then turning to Angelika he asks "The feast is for you, not us, though we are invited is that as your guards, in which case we should come in our battle gear? Or is it customary to leave such away, even with so many Lunars about?"

"Tonight the feast is for all of us to be guests and it is customary not to be dressed for war. Amara and Melock will be my personal guards so may come with weapons, the rest should carry no more than a dagger in their belt. We will be well protected as it is in the home of our host and his weapon thanes will be all around. These will include Humakti and none are better than they at detecting assassins.

Kobal, this is a good time to make friends for your clan. Put enmity aside if you can, for this is the most powerful clan in all Pavis County. This is not a command but a suggestion, for at the end of the day I have no say in your affairs."

Well groomed and presentable the Rangers are sat on benches around tables laden with food. It's in the main hall of the Garhound mansion, a large space lit by hissing fat lamps and oiled rush torches.

It's hard to hear anything but the people next to or opposite, with everyone shouting, laughing and boasting to their heart's content.

There's a top table, where the ruling family sit, with Angelika in their midst, Amara and Melock standing behind her as guards. There's other warriors on duty too. A handful of dour looking men, each marked by death and patrolling with keen senses.

Sat on their own table is a contingent of Lunar officers, officials and priests, their leader sat on the top table, two spaces from Angelika, tonight's guest of honour. For the most part the Lunars are ignored, something they do in return, concentrating instead on their food and own conversations, though one, evidently a warrior by his own death rune and posture, seems to be watching the top table intently.


On the other hand the Rangers have been sat with the household warriors, who are interested in their exploits and for the most part hide their distaste for Praxians.

Amongst them all servants mingle, poring out large quantities of Ale and ensuring the food does not run out. The main course arrives with much fanfare...Roasted joints of Sable meat, a pointed barb at the Lunars present.

After his reviving beverage at the Partner, Temush just sips at his wine for politeness sake, not drinking it. He concentrates on eating and keeping his truth telling mouth too full to talk. He looks around, studying the Garhounds' decorations, and to see if there are any Sun County folk at the feast.

There's a Yelmalian at the far end of Temush's table, a middle aged man with a jowly face and a happy countenance. He's ramming  food down and guzzling wine in a most un-Sun County manner.

Ohanzee tucks into the meat listening to the conversations of the locals and trying out his tradetalk whenever he gets a chance.

He eyes the Lunars between talking to the Sartarite warriors but with more of an inquisitive eye than the contempt and hate that he spots in many an eye cast that way now and then.

After a while he wanders over and speaks in the trade language "Any of you lot know any games of chance?"

Henal eats well, but drinks sparingly in the feast. He boasts about the Ranger's exploits and his party in them in the Thunderbird's manner, trying hard to use his tradetalk to converse. He watches the Lunars while he eats and talks.

Amara showed a relaxed attitude in front of the Lunars. She nodded as a mark of respect to the one with the death rune, believing him to be the only serious threat in the band of Lunars present at the feast, but her eyes were wandering the hall looking for anyone with signs of intent on harm to Angelika, the chieftain or his son.

Ohanzee's approach is met with blank stares, filled with a full spectrum of emotions. No one deigns to answer him and all wait for him to depart. A young serving girl sweeps past, stopping only to whisper quickly in the brave's ear....It's more like a shout thanks to the general background noise, but no one else hears.

And with a wink she's gone to the top table.

For the moment nothing stands out as dangerous or odd...

Seeming well at ease, Hoskar is again dressed oddly for a nomad. Well, a half-nomad anyway. Clothed for the city, he has come leaning on his trader's staff, laughing off an early query with a jovial just thought it could do with a walk, mate - it's a comfort in company and reminds me of the god. Handy for passing jugs too.

He eats sparingly, almost delicately; eschewing fingers for the use of of a knife where he can so the locals think I'm purely a nomad do they? Show them I'm more than one thing, and drinking still more delicately.

It seems he's having problems with the lacing on a boot: once or twice, he ducks below the table to fiddle with a fastening.

Mostly, though, he's asking the local warriors what supplies might come in handy you know...trader coming back this way one day...hospitable friends...would be nice to help you one day...low margins...and so on. Babble, of course, but amiable babble interspersed with his usual warnings about restless Basmoli.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:20, Tue 18 Apr 2017.

Hoskar's Garhound neighbours say that he should speak with the steward of the mansion, but they'd be happy for some of the lasses supplied by various establishments up in the city. This starts of a long conversation about which was the better place and who were the better girls.

Melock stands tall and proud at being selected for guard duty again. The only weapon visible on him is a wavy bronze dagger at his belt. He watches the crowd, more worried about random people than the Lunars. When he see's Asha Brighteyes, the serving girl, flirting with Ohanzee, he smiles. Good luck with that one Ohanzee. Melock spots Hoskar ducking below the table and when he manages to make eye contact with him, raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Speeches are made with Darvenos pledging eternal friendship with his longtime friend Angelika and even going to say that the Rangers are welcome to cross his lands as long as they abide by Orlanthi customs and refrain from raiding his people.

Music starts and folk begin to dance and Angelika says to Melock that if he gets a replacement guard he can set up his show.

It's whilst this goes on that Amara gets a tug on her arm and there stands a young male slave, dressed in Lunar garb. In his hands is the brave's missing javelin

"With the complements of my master" and once handed over he backs off, returning to stand behind the Lunar warrior that Amara had seen earlier. Still at his table he lifts up his cup and toasts in her direction.

Whilst the speeches are underway Ohanzee, in a moment of cheers clapping Ohanzee slips away from the table table feigning the need to go piss if asked. Instead though be heads for where the slaves, or at least he assumes they are, have been bringing food and drink from looking for the lass who spoke to him earlier.

A man walks past, stops and cocks his head as if hearing something. With an inquisitive look on his face he leaves the safety of the street and vanishes into the alley.

There's the sounds of a scuffle, rapid stabbing sounds, a thud of something hitting the ground and then silence.

Amara smiled , placing the javelin in her quiver "Please pass my thanks to your master. I was wondering where I lost this. If he's willing, then perhaps at some point in the future, we could meet and talk, I could introduce him to khumiss?" Amara asked nodding towards the Lunar