They used Shadow as cover as they left the dance-off, walking down what looked like the main street. The festival was in full swing, and the street was full of creatures. A line of tents were set up all along the street.

Rassler’s attention was drawn to three tents they were passing on the left. Rassler recognized the purpose of the tents. They were military recruiting booths.

The first had two orcs in what Rassler had to admit were impressive uniforms, in front of a painted banner showing a mounted orc, goblin and wolf charge on a formation of human soldiers. Half the humans in the picture were depicted as running away, and the ones that stood up to the charge looked pretty scrawny and were clearly about to be overwhelmed. The two orc recruiters were in discussion with a younger orc and two goblins.

The sign read:

Join the Army!

Fight your enemies in hand-to-hand combat!

Your strength against their strength

Bite them on the neck!

Pummel those bastards into the dirt!

Be the beast you know you can be!

Grrr!

The creatures at the second booth were in the process of hanging an even larger banner with a picture of the dragon he'd seen in the battle. It showed her breathing fire as she swooped down on a squad of human soldiers, her brightly-painted claws about to rake a crossbowman.

At this booth was a beast that looked like a half-bird half-horse wearing a vest adorned with military medals. She was talking to a young copper-colored dragon, on which was sitting two of the bat-creatures similar to the ones that had knocked Rassler off his horse two days earlier on his approach to the village.

The sign read,

Join the Air Force!

Drop things on your enemies!

The spokes-dragon was calling out “Much less dangerous than the army! You can drop our new exploding weapons, and fly away and have a nice dinner!”

Rassler, as a count, had been forced by his father to go through military training, and got the point quickly. "You are building an aerial army! That is brilliant. None of the human lands have anything like it."

"Yes, we call it the Air Force. It was my uncle's idea. You met Scarlett yesterday. She is one of the officers. It is just a few dragons right now, plus a couple of hippogriffs, and this young wyvern, Frotiss. Myla though went on about how we need to add dragon-riding goblins to it, so that they can drop things on our enemies. Things that explode. She talked about it for like, an hour. My father says he will allow it, so we need some goblins now. Some of the older army officers don't really like the whole thing though."

"Dropping exploding things on people isn't the most honorable way to fight, but, yes, it would add a lot to your attacks. The Vatharian would have a really hard time to counter it. I supposed you'd have to watch the range of the crossbows and ballistas." Rassler stroked what beard he had, wondering if he might yet return to rule the March of Flai Drary.

"Oh, get real. Of course we tested the ballistas against moving aerial targets, and I assure you that ballistas have no chance. They'd never be able to hit a dragon at anything beyond two hundred yards, and even if they did, at any normal flying height they'd have lost most of their force and wouldn't hit strongly enough to penetrate even a young dragon's scales. The humans can try though."

Rassler saw a booth further along that had an orc and a goblin in blue uniforms in front of a table with a map of the area and a few blue and green banners. Rassler read the largest banner.

Join the Navy!

Live in cramped conditions on a ship with creatures who aren't allowed to wash!

See what the ocean is like in a storm!

Occasionally shoot a ballista at something!

Rassler read the sign and advised Wyndy: “I have done some work recruiting for our military, and I don’t think their slogans will be very effective. They may need to think about it more, and repaint their sign.”

“Oh, it works though. Many of the goblins and orcs still don't approve of bathing, and miss the feeling of the cave and the old smells.”

“Oh, right. Of course,” said Rassler.

“Two members of The Circle joined the Navy reserve after they heard about what the storms were like at sea. I hear they are getting really good at channeling the winds. Overall, the Navy is growing nicely. It isn't big, but we have a kraken."

"What? You have a what?"

"You know, a kraken. Massive giant creature with tentacles, can destroy ships in seven to ten seconds. My father made a deal on 'joint cooperation and mutual defense' with her.”

“You could destroy half the navies of the world with a mon.., a creature like that.”

Wyndy looked at him with what can only be described as worry. “But we do not want to go around destroying navies. We just need to keep sea serpents and pirates away from our harbors. And anyway, I've met her. She's really very nice. Imelda’s her name. Mostly worried about her children, and she was getting a bit tired of hunting, so we are helping her out in exchange for coastal defense. I helped design the mosaic we did for her cave.”

“Mosaic for her cave? Right, of course that is what krakens like.”

“It was all very sparkly!”

“Krakens like sparkly things. So many things I never had to deal with in Vathary.”

“But you did. You paint your ships bright colors and polish every bit of metal you can. It provokes the attacks. The kraken can't resist. You all really should be more careful, and not tempt the poor things like that.”

“Should I ever make it back to Flai Drary as a free man, I will be sure to let them know. If not, we can maybe just keep this secret between us.”

“You should meet her son too. A bit of a dandy among the young kraken, but a proper gentleman. You'd like him. He came by the harbor a few weeks ago for a tenti-cure. It took the entire salon staff all day, but he seemed happy with the results. He left a nice tip."

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Rassler spent the next minute just staring at her.

He figured King Jend could probably get him his county fiefdom back in a week, if Jend wanted to. And Rassler had derived that the way to get Jend to want to do something was if Aida or Wyndy wanted him to do that thing.

Rassler had trained with the Royal Vatharian Army, and knew it to be big and to be generally competent. Plus, Vathary was a much larger nation. But Vathary’s army consisted of either men on horseback or men on foot or men on ships. Not the variety of that Pelsa could field.

After passing the booths, Wyndy turned down a side street. Rassler and Shadow followed as she walked two further blocks and around a sharp corner. As he rounded the corner he almost ran into a sign as tall as he was. It had words in at least five different languages. The ones he could read in High Goblin and Common Vatharian both said:

Scarves For All Creatures

Our Necks Unite Us!

Different Lengths for Different Shapes!

Next to the words was a painting, clearly quickly done, of the dragon he’d seen at the battle, with Princess Myla riding on her back, wrapped in a great scarf and wearing a shirt emblazoned with “SFAC,” which Rassler had not remember her wearing at the battle. In the foreground of the painting it showed panicked Vatharian soldiers running for their lives, while in the background a number of orcs and buggebears struck poses in their SFAC shirts and scarves while they pointed at the Vatharians with amusement.

Behind the sign there was a tent with four tables stacked with shirts and scarves. The tent was full of mostly youngish female creatures queueing in front of the tables to buy shirts and scarves. At the entrance to the tent the company’s spokes-orc called out to the passing creatures on the street.

Rassler saw Princess Myla working the stands, doing her best to deal with the press of young creatures urgently seeking to buy scarves. Behind her, the dragon Scarlet kept watch over the lockbox and counted the money as it came in with her surprisingly dexterous claws.

“Yeah! You came!” Myla screamed as she ran to hug her sister, the two girls bouncing up and down for a moment as they embraced. Scarlet joined in, throwing her wings around both girls.

Myla then stood back and contemplated Rassler.

She said to him in High Goblin, “So, how did it go with Bedo? Are you one of us now?”

“Yes, my lady. I, um, thank you for arranging that most interesting experience.”

“So it was okay? You seem to understand what I say, yes? You understand everything spoken around you?” asked Myla, pointed to random labels in the booth.

“Bedo’s methods were, let’s say, effective. I understand the words, but I can’t say I understand everything that is said. Bobby told me that I need to practice a lot this month.”

“Bobby warned us about that, so we got you a present!” said Myla, as Scarlett picked up a large book with a black leather cover that they’d had in a box behind the stall. “It’s called The Guardian of the Ring.”

“I am honored, princess and madam dragon.” Count Rassler paused and opened the cover. He was proud to see that he could indeed read the words. “What is the book about?” he asked, as he flipped through the pages.

“It is the story of the brave and selfless goblin who guards a terrible magic ring that could, if it fell into the wrong hands, destroy the world. The ring is stolen by a short naive human, who then bands together with larger and not-much-more-intelligent humans in order to take the ring directly in the direction of the evil wizard who could use it for his dark purposes.” said the dragon, moving her claws in a circular motion next to her ears – the universal sign of craziness.

“Wait, I know that legend. We have a version of it in Vathary. But the human Ring Fellows had to destroy the ring!”

“I think you know the story from the human perspective. Humans don’t take goblins seriously,” said the younger half-orc half-elf princess.

Scarlette continued. “Luckily, the guardian goblin works very hard and tirelessly to track the ring, and gets it just in the nick of time, before the small humans let the evil wizard seize it. The guardian goblin puts the world before his very life, and selflessly jumps into a pit of molten lava to make sure the ring is destroyed, saving the world through his sacrifice.” She covered her eyes with her wings in sadness and in respect of the sacrifice of the noble guardian of the ring.

“It is a good book. We all have to read it in middle-school,” said Myla.

“It will help you understand our culture,” explained Wyndy. “Goblin and orc children are raised to emulate the values of the guardian of the ring. We are taught to live up to his example!”

“I will then read it eagerly,” said Rassler. “I am learning so much of your culture today.”

“That’s important, yeah,” said Myla. “And now you should learn about our latest fashion!”

“We’ll start your fashion education with a tour of our magnificent shop,” the dragon said as she indicated the small, crowded booth the humanoids were standing in, “and then our friendly partner temple! The girls can take you inside.” She nodded to an old stone building just behind the booth, across a small square.

“We design and sell scarves and shirts,” Myla said as she held up a particularly colorful scarf and showed it to Rassler. “Scarves are very important, you know, this far north. Totally essential. But we are just getting started, so we don’t weave the cloth ourselves. Our partner is the High Priestess of the temple behind us, the second oldest temple in Lagar’s Haven. I present The Temple of Fashion!”

Rassler stared at her for a second, again unsure if he was understanding the words correctly. “It’s a temple, like, to the gods?”

“That is generally what temples are to, yes. Although we did almost build a Temple of Food.”

Shadow whined something sad in response to that, and Myla replied to him “Yes, I agree, they should have built the Temple of Food.” She scritched him behind the ears to console him.

She then turned back to Rassler. “Anyway, yes. Its official name is the Temple of Elemental Fashion of the Great Goddess Hista and Her Creative Power.”

Rassler shook his head. “But she’s not the goddess of fashion. Hista, whom I think is clearly the goddess we call ‘Hestia,’ is the goddess of the hearth and of weavers, granting warmth to the home and skill of hands to the women.”

Wyndy corrected him as the princesses escorted him across the square to the temple. “Maybe that is all you give her in the south. But here we properly appreciate her. She is first of all the Goddess of the Dawn, weaving the colors of the first light of morning as she dances her celestial dance across the sky, in the chariot pulled by the Twins. Through her display every morning, she inspires an appreciation of beauty, and gives us mortals fashion sense.”

“Okay, yes, Hestia is associated with the first light of morning, but that doesn’t mean she guides fashion. At least that is most certainly not what I was taught by the priests. They say that she helps with the crafts of the home. She is the obedient daughter of Jipater, the Lord of the Skies and Giver of Laws.”

“Well, She is the daughter of the Sky Father, although we say His name as...”

But Rassler kept going, reciting the creed of the Vatharian Church: “Jipater, the Sky Lord took as his consort the Goddess of the Harvest, Dimeter, whom he impregnated with his holy seed and She gave birth to the twin chariot warriors who carry the victorious sun across the sky, and Thorsmi, the mighty thunderer whose hammer smites the enemies of the Church, and Admi, who guides our generals and army in its wars, and ..”

“Oh, please just stop.” Myla held out both hands. “First off, ‘Dimeter’ is really said as ‘Deymater,’ and She is the Great Mother, who provides for us all. I don’t know why you demoted her in Vathary to some sort of accessory to the men.”

“Well, She is important too! If Jipater is angry with us, if we have not obeyed his rules, She will strike our farms with blight. But our priests make sure that doesn’t happen, and help the king stamp out heresy in the kingdom!”

Wyndy, who’d been speaking calmly up to now, lost it and went at Rassler. “The gods were created as the first creatures first became conscious and started to know the world. The gods were the universe itself trying to help, personified in a way mortals we could understand. They fashioned themselves in the way of a family, to help and protect the creatures of the world. In Vathary, you have perverted this, you have tried to make our protectors and comforters into controllers, the henchmen and enforcers of the human leaders in authority. You use their image to keep men under control, to make people obey the king and priests. It is an abomination."

Rassler paused and walked quietly for a moment, then murmured “I can see why your mother and her followers were kicked out of Ushos.”

“Why? I mean, they were mostly working as healers. I never understood why they wanted them kicked out.” said Myla as she started up the temple steps.

“Well, if I were to say even half of what you’d just said in any of the other kingdoms or the empire, I would be declared an apostate and stripped of my titles and condemned.”

“Well, they condemned you anyway. Even having just gone along with their system. And here is the entrance to the temple! It is the headquarters of the Cult of the Fashion-Histas, so beware,” said Wyndy.

“Beware?” Rassler hesitated, and stopped moving toward the temple door.

“Oh yes,” Wyndy continued, now speaking in a hushed voice. “Sionia showed up four years ago after she got exiled from Dhu'Nemos, and became a priestess and restarted Hista’s temple three years ago. We discovered that before that she had been a famous bard in the elven lands, and her musical skills had developed to the point that they’d become a form of sorcery. When she starts singing, it is hard not to dance. You may see. In Dhu'Nemos she had a rabid following and would have concerts in which half the city would go and dance all night. It shook the earth. Some buildings fell. She claims it wasn’t her fault. The elf king decided she had to go. So, yes, be wary of Sionia.”

The doors swung open, and Rassler heard music.