Page 20 of Storms & Sacrifice
Khazak is dressed similarly, though his pants are less tight. His harness is also bigger. Where mine stops above my nipples, his is angled down farther, the straps crossing under his pecs entirely. Over that is a tight dark brown leather vest, which wouldn’t be a color you’d think would work, but it fits in with his skin tone perfectly. Calling it a vest is also a stretch; it’s basically two strips of leather down both of his sides. His shoulders are completely exposed, and it seems like it serves only to emphasize...all the good stuff. His arms are just as beefy as ever, accentuated more by the dark tattoos around his bicep, while the muscles of his chest are framed perfectly, coarse black hair covering his torso like a small forest.
“Like what you see?” He smirks when he catches me staring.
“Maybe.” Itisa nice package.
We throw on our boots, which go really well with the rest of our clothes, and Khazak grabs his trusty satchel. We stop at the front door on the way out, Khazak running back to the bedroom for what is apparently the final thing we need to complete our look, and something I’m still not crazy about: a leash. This one is more intricate than the others he’s used on me. It matches my collar, all metal and made of up thousands of tiny rings like chainmail. On one end is a leather strap to act as a handle, and the other has a clasp that attaches to my collar. Given the entire outfit, I’m less annoyed about it than usual.
“Remember our training on protocol?” Khazak asks as he clips onthe leash.
“Is tonight going to be one of those times?” I ask, adjustingmy collar.
“In some ways, but less formal and more fun. Does that make sense?” He looks me over as he asks.
“I think so, Sir.”And if not, I’ll figure it out.
It’s still light out when we step outside, the sun still has a couple of hours before it goes down for the night. We walk south, which is where most of the city’s bars are located. There are more people out than normal at this hour, and that number only grows as we get closer. Coming up on a cross street, I see two guards posted on either side of the road ahead of us, watching the crowd as they pass through.
“Are they looking for the brimstone thief?” I ask Khazak.
“Yes, but they are primarily there to ensure no one underage wanders in.” Khazak sounds amused. “As the nights progress during the festival, things tend to get more than just clothingoptional.”
My face heats up as I consider the implications of thatstatement.
Now that we’re walking around it, the entire red-light district seems more like a well-lit district. There are even more people here, men and women dressed like Khazak and me, including some in collars and leashes. I can hear the sounds of music being played coming from multiple directions and smell all kinds of food. My stomach growls, and Khazak’s orc hearing must be good enough to pick it up over the crowd because he gives me a look before leading us to one of the food carts.
He holds up two fingers to the orc working the cart and reaches for his pouch. The guy reaches back, grabbing two kabobs of something that smells very much like chicken, before pausing to look at us. His eyes are drawn to the leash connecting us, then to Khazak’s face. He waves off Khazak’s attempt to pay with a smile, saying something cheerful as he hands over the food. I manage to catch the word “kritar,”which I have learned means “captain,” so this guy knows who Khazak is, and me byextension.
“Expect a lot of that this weekend,” he tells me, his voice a little excited as wewalk away.
“Being the captain’s avakesh has its perks,” I declare happily before digging in.
“That helped, but that is not why he gave it to us.” Khazak smiles, taking a small bite of his and swallowing before continuing. “Have you noticed all the couples around us?”
“Yeah, I didn’t realize there were so many avakesh-kavan pairings in the city.” So far, I’ve seen a few out in public and only met one personally.
“There are not.” Another bite. “These people probably all enjoy our...style of doing things, but do not, or cannot, take things further. The festival is an opportunity for them to play a little more publicly, while those of us in a realuzu’gorpairing tend to reap a few extra benefits from theiradmirers.”
“So, how’d he know we were really together like that?” We certainly look the part, but so do most of the other people here.
“Thatis where my public persona came in handy.”He winks.
We walk around the district, taking in the sights together. A few outdoor bars have been set up, complete with impromptu dance floors. There are alotof people here, the most I’ve seen in one place since fighting in the arena. It’s not just orcs either; I see elves, humans, dwarves, gnomes,halflings…
“You weren’t kidding about the tourism thing.” The crowd is still like 80% orc, but this is the most non-orcs I’ve seen since my arrival.
“Yes, and the number grows every year. It seems we are starting to become more and more of an open secret,” Khazak adds wryly.
“Isn’t that kinda dangerous with the whole ‘hidden city’ thing?” Seems like something you’d try to minimizeat least.
“Honestly, I am not sure how much longer keeping the city hidden will be sustainable. Given our size and population, it is rather impressive we have been able to do it for this long,” he says bluntly. “It will only be a few more years before the city will be forced to expand.”
“Really?”Expandhow, exactly?
“There is only so much room left inside the walls,” he states, “and our population continues to grow. That is one of the reasons we started keeping livestock—there is not enough room for everyoneto hunt.”
We pass (and stop at) even more food and drink carts. Some are sellingdar-buk, which are these fluffy little pastries stuffed with a sweet red jam. Khazak showed me some of the berries used to make it when we were on patrol. They were unripe, squishy-looking green orbs, almost like a raspberry but with the outside covered in tiny seeds. He said they turn red as they grow, which also indicates how sweetthey are.
I see some of the fire dancers Nikka mentioned, and I’m mesmerized by what they are able to do. Rings and batons, lit on fire and thrown into the air, juggled back and forth between dancers without ever flinching or stumbling through theirincrediblycomplicated dance routine.How are they not covered in burns?The whole thing is pretty amazing.
