A pair of Sandfury ladies brought out plates of food, they set them in front of the leader, Papa, and Mooshki. With a bow they retreated again and the conversation continued with Papa recounting the deeds of Mooshki at all three of the Primal loa’s altars with occasional commentary from her.
They both ate and drank fully, Papa fully trusted the Sandfury to take care of his request, after all they have been most generous so far. As they had promised him her food and drink had been laced with the herbs and juices thereof and it wasn’t long before a sudden splitting headache was followed by light headedness and finally her passing out against him.
“Der now Papa Don, ya task is met, but ah question w’at ya told us.”
Papa’s attention had been on the Drakkari shifting her so she laid with her head on his thigh rather than against his arm. Hearing the words of the Sandfury’s leader he turned his head to face him. “W’at ya be meanin dat ya question dah Papa?”
The Sandfury raised his chin and continued what he was saying. “Dem herbs not kill dah Drakkari. We too ‘ave skilled medicine men, dey say den dat ya gave us ta feed ‘er would not do dat.”
Papa scowled at the larger troll. “Ah course dey not kill ‘er! Dat not fa us ta do. Dah poison lock ‘er on dah edge ah deh spirit world, nah to return. Ta offa ah cold body ta deh loa be ah lowly t’ing. Besides der be revelry goin’ on ‘ere. Dis ta be enjoyed! Dah offerin take place before dah dawn. Deh body still warm be offered ta Mueh’zala, Night’s Friend, in him own time. Ah slice,” he pulled his thumb across the top of his chest just under his collarbone, “ta add blood ta deh offerin’ and Mueh’zala come claim dah spirit servant himself. Him break deh bonds from spirit ta body and make ‘er truly ‘is own.”
The leader listened as Papa explained the will of the loa and the way the ritual would work. He nodded satisfied with the explanation and smiled. “If only all ah use undastood dah will ah deh loa so easily. Why dis trollie t’ough, one wid markin’s like dem on ‘er?”
“Dese?” he asked brushing his fingers over the curls of purple left by the tiki’s curse. “Dese be dah markin’s of ah death curse dat be ah Papa’s own makin’s. Ah trial in it own right,” he commented his eyes not leaving the Drakkari’s marred skin. “Dis be ah curse dat hard ta escape, only by killin’ dah docta dat cast it can ya escape dah horrible death dat follow,” he looked up from her to the leader. “Obviously Papa was not dah mon dat cast deh spell dis time…still she be dah first, an dah only one dat escape dah grips ah death at dis spells ‘ands.” A smile spread across his face. “Her escape him once, and now her delivered to ‘im.” He shrugged again. “E’ery one serve dey own place in life, but dey all deh better w’en dey serve mine.”
The leader grew a wicked grin along his features as well nodding in agreement with the Darkspear before him. “Ya gonna need ta be cleaned up ya self witch docta. Why not let deh two dah drink ya ya food ‘elp ya der, an bring ya back dressed in finer t’ing dan ya wear now,” He spread his arms wide and the two Sandfury women appeared again.
Papa looked from one to the other his hand idly brushed through the Drakkari’s ivory mane. He nodded and shifted to stand. “Ya keep dah body safe an untouched. Her need ta be perfect fa ‘er presentation ta deh loa mon.”
“Of course Zul, it be done.” The leader half bowed over the table as the pair of women lead him away.
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