_{Chapter 3 – return to list}

Ador is on top of the owe list, so we have him and Warner, probably on the run.

We start with Ador, who adds a significance to his particular strength:

A warrior who settled down with a foul tempered werewolf of a wife. Ridden with second thoughts.

Lethal Swordsmanship: Directly. Consequential for myself. Far reaching.

Bo picks the oracle of Blood and Sex, and a single card.

• Husband: Ador
• Woman:

Bad tempered ex werewolf chieftain, now proud businesswoman and mother to the twins Pasha and Fenris.

Unleash the beast: Covertly. Far־reaching. Consequential to Violence.

• Housekeeper
• A hunchback servant:

A broken werewolf that became an ass kissing servant with tragicomic aspirations.

Go unnoticed: Self protection. Potent.

• Giant gopher־rabbit (codename CHAFARNAV) laying waste to the strawberries – temporary owner of a lucky gopher־rabbit's foot
• A visiting relative:

Warner's werewolf cousin, to whom she was once engaged. Bandit. Cultist.

• The local lord: Lordus Abu־Beth

• Local lord:

Worships the bull and his only daughter.

Demagoguery: Maneuvering. Potent.

• The daughter: Beth (got the hots for Ador, among others)
• her chaperon
• The demon possessing her: Ataratheh (taking her shape)
• The crazy ass strawberry grower: Ador

• The warrior priestess:

A skin walker garbed with scraps of skin taken from many victims, able to assume the form of any of them.

The Garb: Covertly. Unique. Consequential to love.

• The cult leader: Ataratheh
• Her jealous brother: Alby
• A victim waiting to be sacrificed, or still at large: Beth
• Just some guy seeking revenge:

A werewolf hunter seeking vengeance.

Durability: Self protection. Potent. Broad for action.

• The insulted: Ador
• The insulter:

Ronin secretary to the Crane.

Favoured by a god: For myself. Far Reaching. Potent.
When he is in great need, the most unlikely (yet completely possible) things will conspire to help him

• The original composer of the (simple!) insult, to be in trouble if found out
• The person who actually did the thing described by the insult, which is probably why it hurt so much
• Someone caught between them, needing to bring them together despite the insult: Warner
• A guest overhearing the insult at a party

The free city of Romrama, on the sea, west of the citadel of the winds, built high upon the hills with a sheer cliff dropping into the ocean. Has a long tradition of winemaking, and a budding strawberry industry.

In a wicked age, amidst the produce laden carts in the colorful market place of Romrama, a baby־faced foreigner approaches a woman surrounded by baskets of strawberries. He introduces himself as Tzao־Lin, part of the Danite invasion that took the neighbouring realm by storm, in search of something deeper. More profound. He is new in town, dazzled by this wonderfully lusty primitive culture almost as much as he is by the strawberry־lady's good looks, eager to experience everything. Warner – being an awesome werewolf, a serious business woman, a mother and a wife – barely notices him; even after he demonstrates his lingual acrobatics on some of her goods (for which he pays in gold out of a large wallet); but when he touches her hand, something in the butterfly quality of his hand touches her heart, or something lower, and she takes him by the hand and starts leading him to her home. Much to the amazement of Ador, her husband, who shares that home with her and is jawdroppedly watching the entire thing from across the street.

In a wicked age, in a quiet farm, Beth, the lord's daughter, is tramping after strawberries. Her short skirt flutters and her feet go hippety־hop. After her, like a shadow, the chaperon. The call of a crane is heard from the distance. The chaperon patiently awaits until Beth swoons, and then she leads her to the hut of Gugel, the hunchback servant. Gugel grovels before them, eager to please, and when the chaperon explains that the lord's daughter is tired (without mentioning the milk of poppies she put in her drink) he takes her to the finest approximation of a bed he can find. “Keep her secret”, the chaperon orders. “Keep her safe”. She hurries outside. Her clothes start reshaping on her skin. She becomes leaner, younger. Her skirt shortens, and flutters. And her feet go hippety־hop on the path to the castle.

In a wicked age, in the marketplace, Ador is grimly surprised to see his wife walking away from their cart, holding hands with a rich foreigner, but just as he is about to launch a protest two city guards walk into his personal space, demanding attention. He attempts to bribe them with strawberries, which it turns out they already consider theirs. They ask to see his licence, which he has just renewed, and then demand a quarter of his stock. Not wishing to kill anyone, he gives them the quarter, accepting the losses as payment for their lives, but they are not satisfied. They start to stomp on strawberries and break the cart and vandalize the shit out of everything they can lay their hands on. Ador understands that they are determined to cause trouble, and were probably sent by Lordus, the local lord, who would like nothing better than Ador in prison). But Ador is pretty determined himself, and he wishes to stay out of trouble, so he repeats, half to himself, “I'm a farmer. I'm a farmer. I'm a farmer”. Warner, however, who hears the racket behind her, turns and comes back to assist her husband, dragging Tzao־Lin behind her. When she gets to the guards, she uses her divine gift (“unleashing the beast”, the werewolves call it), turns her charm on to 11, raises her skirt, and gives the guards – and the awe inspired Tzao־Lin – a peek and a whiff. The guards lose it, their minds melt and they begin to slobber, waiving their swords to and fro; but Tzao־Lin, ever refined, manages to maintain the semblance of a civilized human being, no matter how deeply impressed he is. “What a lovely bouquet”, he gently exclaims, and something within Ador snaps.

In a wicked age, behind thick wooden doors, a young lady is sitting at a table when her father, lord Lordus Abu־Beth, enters the room. A big strawberry hued scar crosses his face diagonally. “Where is your chaperon?”, he demands. “In my room”, she stammers. “My dress. Torn. She fixes”. Lordus grunts. “No mind. I have contacted an important priest visiting our town, a holy man. He will come cleanse your soul of the foul deeds you've done”. She cries, and pleas her innocence, and bangs her little fists on his chest, and for a moment he is entranced by the flow of her chestnut hair, but then his face harden and he takes her to her room. She pulls his hair, childishly, and manages to grab a handful before he locks her in her room and goes to fetch the priest. Having lost to the Garb he loses two dice from self protection.

In a wicked age, in a small hut in a prosperous farm manor on the lands of lord Lordus Abu־Beth, the lord's real daughter is sleeping soundly, drugged, under the watchful eyes of a hunchbacked servant, when the door creakily opens, and in comes – uninvited – Alby, the bandit werewolf formerly engaged to the lady of the manor.

In a wicked age, at the marketplace, Ador stands insulted. But nor for long. Rage consumes his mind as he decides to kill everyone around. Except for Warner. Maybe. And certainly starting with the offensive Dannite. Quick as lightning he draws a sword. Not his – for he is but a humble farmer – but that of one of the guards. The blade sings through the air, and countless layers of silk. But Tzao־Lin stands. Perhaps it is that killing unarmed men does not do it for Ador, or maybe he is out of practice. Either way, Tzao־Lin is wounded, but unimpressed, merely lamenting the ruined silk. More guards show up. In all the mayhem, Warner sneaks away, and the lovestruck (and swordstruck) Tzao follows her, leaving Ador to face the guards on his own. Fortunately (for the guards), John, who is a tinkerer and friend of the Ador's, shows up with a magical doohickey that pulls the guard's swords from their hands, at which point they all run away.

In a wicked age, the night before, in a tavern, Tzao־Lin is savouring a sumptuous meal. The tables are made of repurposed carts, the shafts and axles still showing. Before him sits another traveler, lean, ascetic and wearing little more than a diaper, who seems to never blink. A conversation is sparked, about truth and higher causes, and the two retire quickly to a private room. The diapered man is a wandering priest (who probably came here on the tracks of the demon Ugurnaszir, whom he failed to destroy in the previous chapter) in the service of the Divine Bull, and having more than a bit of the missionary in him seems to consider Tzao an easy and even lucrative mark for conversion. He shows Tzao some of his scriptures (from which Tzao mostly makes out the lovely illustrations full of bulls and phalluses), and Tzao – who just lost his god in the most literal way – finds the whole thing terribly exciting. He tries to show the priest some of his own scriptures, which are admittedly more subtle, but the priest politely and sternly refuses to even glance at them (“yes that's very interesting”, he says, while shoveling the book aside with his arm. Tzao, ever the anthropologist, suspects he has committed some cultural faux pas, but eventually, after much reading, deliberation and sexual innuendoes, Tzao opens himself up to the worship of specific parts of the bull. Bull cult porn FTW.

In a wicked age, a heavy wooden door is opened on Ataratheh, currently wearing the shape of the Lord's daughter, as the lord himself walks in with the priest. A half made weave, depicting a man quartered by bulls, is hanging from a loom by the window. The priest insists the lord leave, which he does after much protest. Once alone, Ataratheh starts spitting and throwing stuff at the priest, but he does not budge. Finally, he begins the ritual, disperses some powder in the air, chants a little chant and then suddenly grabs her, attempting to see into her. She fights like a wild animal and pushes him away and into the loom, which injures him and hurts his self protection. But as he lies there, wounded, he sees her morph into a grey haired, wild haired, wild eyed shape, more in line with the ferociousness with which she fought. And her Garb is visible, like a tallit katan from scraps of skin, sewn roughly together.

In a wicked alley, not far from the market, Tzao and Ador converge, on the track of Warner's scent. Ador – perhaps feeling bad about his previous outburst – decides to extend his hospitality and let his wife choose “between the dagger and the broadsword” (Dannites having such a bad reputation in this regard, that Ador doesn't even suspect how favoured by the gods Tzao really is). John joins them, takes Ador aside and offers him a most marvelous sword, designed especially for the slaying of werewolves, in return for him using it on a quest – to which he must go without his wife.

Wolf's Bane Blade: For others. Far reaching.

Still in the same alley, framed by laundry lines and nets and ropes hanging from windows, Warner and Tzao notice each other, and Tzao makes his move. After unwrapping a gallon of silk he manages to show her his wound, and when she help him dress it he starts babbling about fine bathing salts and apricot oils. Warner, in an attempt to keep things fresh in the bedroom, blindfolds him, and then grabs the cheapest, filthiest, rowdiest and loosest syphilitic whore she can find and pays her to do the Dannite. Tzao does not notice, but is greatly disappointed, and his passion wanes a bit.

In a wicked age, Warner, Ador, John, John's cart, and on it the disillusioned Tzao, arrive at Ador manor and are welcomed by Gugel, the hunchback servant. Five minutes later, the lord shows up, outraged. “Where is my daughter?”, he demands. “A wolf came”, stutters Gugel. Ador falls back into his just־a־humble־farmer routine, but Lordus is unimpressed. As far as he is concerned, his daughter was kidnapped on Ador's property and he is responsible. Ador apologizes and stresses that this has never happened to them before, and agrees to join the search party, but the wandering cleric stops them and demands to search Ador's house. Ador explains that his wife is breastfeeding, but the cleric is strangely undeterred and starts stepping towards the house. There is evil in the house, and he will uncover it. Lordus stops him, physically, demanding that they first find his daughter, and they have a bit of a stare down, until the cleric cedes, demanding that they come back later. Inside, babies at her breast, Warner hears him muttering in the lord's ear, suggesting that they burn the entire house down. She has the distinct feeling someone just sniffed her hole.