Outside of winding down at The Pious Palace, you do have weekend plans to take your nephew up to the greater city to watch some comedies at the playhouse. He’s a big fan of Quyverspike.

Not because you think it’s a good way to spend your Furnesti6th day of the week— it’s just that the little sir is currently taking to the arts whilst your idiot sister is against the idea of allowing him to understand the poetry of heretics. Dear Sepherella, poetry is the work of a turbulent mind, of course it will taste Shintaric! God, you feel poetic just thinking about her unusually small face under that “innocently” carved Kog. Praise Shama that her husband still makes her wear it.

Regardless, you will take any opportunity to show how much of a foul biddy she is. So peradventure if you snatch away the young man, entertain his interests, he’ll turn out cool like his uncle!

You could also take the little sir out to the circus to watch you bet on the crank races too. It would be a great time to show him the ropes, especially with Goncha’s wonderful donation towards his future. You pat your purse again.

The jingling of gold urchins and silver stars in your purse? Indeed you do! And so does that balding-ass fool in front of you. You’ll do some lunges to remind him what happens when he plays against the loot man!

Hey you’re only slightly tipsy. Or else you wouldn’t be so bored. Have a look.

Inside you have:

• Your Nerkogos Guild Token, minted during the siege of Cohv in ‘62. Many of such were carried by your great father, God rest his soul…
• Your Brush for lookin’ good for the maidens heheh.
• Your Key Ring. One to your tenement, and the other to the “delicate matter” on the pinnace. You’ve been instructed watch over the key and hand it to the next man that relieves you.
• Your favorite Deck of Cards. For Spitzko. And your secondary source of income when you play against Goncha.
• A Portrait Miniature of your Repugnant Sister. You like to carry this around so you can glare and sneer at her stupid Kog. Sometimes you spit on it, hahah. Ah, and your nephew, who is a fine young man. Not sure how a boring hag like her can produce someone so cultured…
• The good Verm…
• A tasty Dae Fruit
• Your trusty Wheelock Tinderbox.
• Your favorite Eating Knife.

And on your belt, hangs:

• A Hunting Knife that you pilfered off the last sawtooth that crossed the Nerkogos.
• A Bollock Dagger because it’s funny. Sometimes you wear it at your crotch to remind others of peak masculinity.

Oh, right and the money Goncha was going to use to buy hair elixirs! You are utterly sweating metal tonight!

Hey…

You can’t tell from this angle, but you’re being winked at. Dashingly.

Reflect on your life? Great, It’s that time of the night.

You take a swig of wine.

 Your life is quite alright. Splendid if you so put it. You have good wine and useful comrades and excellent looks and the little sir is happy— oh and Sepherella is seething. See? Everything is great.

…

The stagnant air in your lungs and the taste of iron on your tongue is just positively invigorating. Yeah, you know what you are in this world: A lowly puddle stepper in this merry band. With the sheddies watching your boys closely, and tolerating that orange demon in that gaudy tower of sin, it all seems so futile doesn’t it? But things are going to change. The Nerkogos will prevail. And when they do, you’ll see your share of the glory.

This is what you continue to tell yourself. After all, the boss’s caginess doesn’t really make you feel all that important. I mean, what really is your job tonight? Watch over some keys and stare at the back of Goncha’s fat head?

Bah, you don’t get paid to think. Just wait for the longshoremen to arrive come dawn and you’ll be off to warm yourself at The Pious Palace. 

Ha, Pious Palace. What a silly name. The other guy, Ehraz thought he was really gonna have you slumping off to confess every time the women drag you in there and do “awful” things to you. It’s not your fault Shama made you this gorgeous.

“Oh Lutemes, why haven’t you had any of the Bovani?” To think you’d actually need to spend money to pillow a fine Herdish lady… I mean, look at this face. You practically need to beat them off of you!

“Oh it’s Lutemes! The fangchaser!” With horn rash going around, you’ll be laughing in his face when he’s pissing nettles for the rest of his days.

“Oh Lutemes! That is not the will of Shama! Thou shall not bed with a hunter!” Yeah—it’s not a sin if you stand up, fool!

You hate Ehraz!

Not as much as your sister though. Awful woman.

Goncha calls you over.

He speaks in blessed Herdish.

“A light beckons. Must it be Ehraz?”

You can make out his horns, “Must be. He has found himself off post then. Expected, as he is abhorred for his dull spirit. Should it be true, I shall take him and cast him into the tarnished lake for the folly of waxing his lamp.”

“Shama willing.” Goncha concurs.

You step forward towards the stranger, you speak in Continental, “Who goes there?”

“Shama lees, friends.” You hear a clear Hwombazi accent from this grazer. It’s not Ehraz.

Honestly, thank God.