“Ah… that’s not going to pass is it?” Maalira

“What angers the spirits?” – Xenofos
“I don’t know. What did you do this time?” – Minstar

“I’m as high as a vulture.” – Minstar

“The worst dragons are in your mind, man. I understand it and the universe and everything.” – Xenofos
“I think Xenofos has been huffing the shaman’s smoke.” – GM

“What’s a Storm Khan’s life worth in Prax?” – Varanis
“Not having ever killed one…” – Maalira

“I don’t trust them.” Kolyey
“Yeah, that’s normal.” Varanis

“Can’t have nightmares if you don’t sleep.” Xenofos
“She is a nightmare if she doesn’t sleep.” Maalira

“I can hold my breath, but I don’t know how to get the zebra to hold its breath.” – Kolyey

“Excuse me, I just need the fumble table again.” GM

“Hold your horses… sorry… zebras.” – Berra

“Varanis, you might remember this in character, if you actually remember it.” GM

“Of course,” one of the impala riders’ wives’ sisters tells Maalira, “The foreign warriors will have to defeat the horror of face-snakes on foot, to prove how they are real men, just in the shape of women.”

Off in the distance, Berra and Varanis are dismounted. They rode in far closer than Maalira remembers the plan being.

“Of course,” Maalira says cautiously.

“See, they are fighting it! Silkbeard is famous with his thrown spear. He has missed to give them a chance to show their glory, I think.”

“That is most noble of him, and honourable.”

“Ah, the terrible poison gas! Let us hope they remember not to breathe it or they will die and a tentacle will take them!”

The view of the walktapus is indeed misty now, and slightly green.

Maalira grips her bag nervously, squinting across the distance towards the fight. “I am sure they will remember. They are all great warriors.”

“Oh, that’s good. Everyone is still standing save for the death-bringer. The one with tentacles, not the small one with very little chest.” The wife’s sister picks up one of her children who is trying to get onto her impala, and puts him onto Lofty. “They are. Those creatures can bring down Storm Bulls in their rage. We should let the air clear a little before we get closer. Before it gets up again.”

It looks like Varanis has cut its head off, or just cut its head badly enough that it is not moving any more.

Maalira does not comment on Berra’s chest. She smiles at the woman, tilting her head slightly towards the child. “Lofty has missed having children around.”

“We should paint him like an Impala if you are going to be joining us for a long time. Then they will know they can climb on him.” The woman nods wisely.

Maalira grins. “I don’t think she would like being painted. And I don’t know how long we will stay.” She gestures at the winding-down battle. “Varanis or Berra leads, and I follow.”

“Oh, well, yes. Wives and sisters and cousins and aunts and friends and mounts are very important.”

Some of the younger men are looking like they want to bounce into the fray, especially now that the fray has stopped. They are looking to their respective warrior-leaders, however, who are still circling the fight without getting close, a second line of defense.

“I hope I will see some of my own cousins while I am in Prax,” Maalira says. “My companions are family of a different sort, but yes, very important.”

“Do you know nobody has asked us to find out where the Straw Weavers are yet? Some of the gossips are offended. I am not, of course, because I have better things to do than to flap my tongue.”

Maalira’s lips do something which might be what one would do if one were suppressing a giggle. “Well, of course you do. But should anyone happen to know, I would be most grateful to hear of it.”

“I will see if anyone wants to tell you, but you should be aware that many of the riders of bison gather at the Block, and we are not going there. Gorak lets them be there as long as they do not bother us at Tourney Altar, but most of the South part of Prax is his to command.” She looks very sure of that.

There is a cheer from the impalas as the warriors begin to close in on the dead walktapus – if walktapi can ever be dead, that is.

Maalira nods. “Of course. You must do what is right.”

“I’m sure some gossips will come to talk to you later. Should you go forward now and see what’s needed? Nobody looks like they are wounded.” The little woman seems happy about the proceedings.

“Thank you, yes.” Maalira gives the woman a smile, hefts her bag and sets out towards the group.

By the time she reaches them, lots of Impala riders are bounding off in all directions. Berra is just finishing drawing a shape in the dirt around the walktapus, which does indeed seem dead. “Hello,” she says. In her knife hand, the right, blood is dripping between her fingers.

“Hello you,” Maalira replies. “What’s bleeding?”

“Oh, my hand.” Berra sheaths her knife and holds up her hand. The palm has a long cut on it, and does do the fingers.⁴Pass Scan: Berra’s knife seems to have flints embedded in the handle. That would explain the cut marks.

“Oh my… Berra, why do you have a knife that cuts your hand?” Maalira reaches out with one hand to grab Berra’s wrist whilst fishing in her bag for a bandage with the other.

“Um. That’s actually a pretty good question. I’m not sure how … thanks… how much of it is secrets, though. But because swords are special.” Berra looks down at her belt-knife. “I’ve been trying to think more about them.”

Maalira sighs, swabs at the cuts, then wraps a bandage around the hand.

Berra says, once her hand is bandaged, “We need to go collect wood. Or people do. I’ve got to stay here to make sure the thing stays dead, but I’m pretty sure it will.” There are a few others who have not bounded off, just in case.

“Burning it gone does seem like a good idea,” Maalira says.

“Any other injuries?”

“Yeah. But Prax. And wood.” Berra looks about. “None of us got hurt, but we should look for any bits that are moving, just in case.”

In defiance of the young impala rider’s confident words about Xenofos missing, there does seem to be a hole a lot like a javelin would make, right in the middle of the thing’s chest.

Off in the distance, Kolyey’s feeding her zebra treats.

“Straw burns, too,” Maalira points out.

“It’ll get it hot, but we want to burn it for a few hours. But yeah. We might have to stay here overnight to make sure of it.” Berra shrugs. “We’ve done this before. I mean, you’re fine camping in Prax, right?”

“Yes, of course, but we should be sure not to impose upon our hosts’ water supplies.”⁵Maalira passes Survival.

Berra looks back at Followed, and winces. “Oh right yeah, it’s still summer…” As if the sun beating down was not enough reason to remember that.

Kolyey scritches her zebra behind the ears, mounts up and rides over. “Commander! Permission to go kill whatever was responsible for this?”

Berra looks up. “Kolyey, no. You’d die before you found it.” She gives Maalira an apologetic look like being reminded about the water situation was important in that decision.

Kolyey sighs. “Can we at least consider asking for help at Tourney Altar?”

“Oh, we’re gonna report it, sure. I was going to send an impala in early but they’re bouncing around a lot and I haven’t been able to slow one down yet.” Berra nods a lot.

Kolyey looks happier.

“Once we’ve started it burning, or before if we run out of… wait, you ain’t got any Praxian at all, have you?” Berra wrinkles up her nose, scars and all, to think.

Kolyey concentrates for a minute.⁶She senses no Undead. “Absolutely none.”

“Right. We’ll send a couple of impala riders with you. If we split up. I need to find how much wood we’ve got and such, first.” Berra gives Maalira a thoughtful look. “We could send you where it’s safer, and you speak Praxian.”

“You could, and I do. But, I don’t want to be far away from you if you’re going to keep using that knife. You could do yourself serious harm.”

Kolyey raises her eyebrows.

Berra says, “It’s only for ritual purposes,” defensively.

“It still cuts,” Maalira points out.

“That’s the point of a knife. I mean in this case the edge.” Berra looks surprised, and then slightly wise.

“Sounds like a mystery of Humakt to me,” says Kolyey.

Maalira rolls her eyes.

Berra looks fully in agreement with Kolyey. “Maybe… look, if there’s another walktapus overnight it’s not likely we’ll stay out.”

Kolyey nods.

“Anyhow, I’m just working through possibilities. We might find plenty of wood, build a fire, and just leave a few of the warriors and hunters to tend it.” Berra shrugs. “Dunno yet.”

“I have not seen much wood, but then I have not looked.” Kolyey looks around.

“It’s Prax. They might have to ride for a while, but if they find anything big, they’ll let us know to put it on the bisons.” Berra shrugs. “We’re a couple of hours from Tourney Altar, I think? And we could probably travel some of that in the dark if we had to.”

“We might want to get to Tourney Altar as soon as possible.” Kolyey says that as she looks around again.

“Dead thing. We have time to wait, but let’s send a warrior off…” Berra waves at one of the nearby hunters, who is close enough to warrior for her purposes.

Kolyey says, “I will go look for walktapus bits “

“Is there anything useful I can be doing?” Maalira asks.

Berra says, “See if the women are organising food? Keep me company? Find out about where we’re going? Um, decide what’s the most peaceful thing, and do it?”

“I’ll keep you company,” Maalira says.

Berra asks, “Can you go bring my bison in? I could do with some shade.”

“Of course.” Maalira sets off in that direction.

Followed is patiently cropping the grey-brown fuzz that passes for foliage.

Maalira takes the bison carefully by the halter and speaks to it in Praxian.

Followed knows where the treats come from, and goes with Maalira easily.