Lord Glasco was arriving late, which pained him. He was under strict orders to have the audience with Jend this very evening, and to find the location of the prisoners. There had been some delays at the border, when three buggebear had appeared shortly after his carriage crossed into Pelsa. Only after an hour's discussion, presentation of his diplomatic credentials and a long explanation of his mission, was Glasco allowed to proceed, although even then only with a buggebear riding along.

The biggest delay though had come due to the accommodation. Counselor Dravon had told him to stay at the inn with the beastly name of “The Bleeding Edge,” saying it was a calm place with ‘traders and such,’ but upon entering, Glasco had found it full of goblins and dwarves in what must have been the loudest common room he’d ever seen – one that looked more like a factory workshop than a room for dining. Much of what he saw looked dangerous and disturbing, especially the part where a large metal hand had grabbed his luggage

Glasco transferred to the inn down the street, with the equally odd name “The Inappropriate Unicorn.” This inn was at least run by humans, and it was much quieter. Indeed, he had met a most interesting human cook there, with whom he had had the most insightful conversation. The conversation had cost another twenty minutes, but Glasco felt it was well worth it.

Now, with evening already setting, Lord Glasco was disembarking from his carriage in the inner courtyard of the castle, in front of the doors leading to the great dining hall.

As he climbed down the steps, a human approached him. The human was in late middle-age, blond, and dressed in dark robes, and flanked by two impressive looking orcs in full armor.

Glasco started to walk past the guards toward the door to the hall.

“I am Lord Glasco. I am here on official diplomatic business on behalf of King Neydon of Vathary. I demand to see Jend immediately.”

“I am Major Adane, and I am in charge of the security of the castle this evening. There is a special event, you know.”

“So they style their tribal forces as if it were a proper military. So you have ‘majors’ and such? Do you also have lieutenants? Are there monster ‘corporals’ too?”

“Indeed. That giant wolf in the shadows behind you is Corporal Luna. Why don't you turn around and make a proper introduction?”

Glasco turned around, only to see a giant wolf head about two feet behind him, staring at him. The giant wolf head was attached to the rest of the giant wolf, crouching low and ready to spring.

Glasco spun and tried to jump back, only to trip and end up seated on the cobbles, his hose now muddy.

“Hmm… how unfortunate,” said Adane as he reached down to help Glasco up. “I guess you'll just have to go back to your inn and get cleaned up. You can come see the king tomorrow afternoon.”

“No. But I need to see him now. It is very important, and time is of the essence.”

“Lord Glasco, I must inform you that this is not the most opportune time. The king and his court are at the celebration of the Equinox. I would really suggest your meeting could wait until tomorrow.”

“What, are they busy sacrificing our soldiers to their witch gods? I think that my mission, from the large and powerful Kingdom of Vathary, certainly warrants me interrupting their tribal ceremony.”

This elicited a low growl from Corporal Luna, still just a tail's length behind Glasco.

Glasco reworded his request. “I mean, I am sure that your king would like to receive the message I have from my king, without delay.”

“Fine Glasco. Fine. And coupled with the respect I once had for your family, I feel inclined to let you in. Walk with me.”

Glasco followed Adane toward the entrance of the great hall. As they approached, he could hear loud music with pounding drums coming from inside the hall. There were occasional shouts and screams from what sounded like a large crowd of creatures just inside. Glasco wondered to himself if he would live to ever see the like of day again. He silently cursed Dravon and all of his choices in life that had brought him to this point.

Adane raised his hand, and the doors to the great orcish hall opened. Glasco paused for a moment to muster his courage, and stepped inside.

On entry to the hall, his first thought was, “Why do they have trees inside the hall?”

His second thought was, that while the men were dressed in the similar, somewhat toned-down silken stockings and coats with lace that the male nobles dressed in back in Vathary, many of the women were being rather risqué – most of the women’s dresses revealed ankles, and some even showed a hint of knee!

His third thought was that it was all just as he had feared. It seemed the monsters were indeed engaged in some sort of dark ceremony in honor of their primitive gods. Along the tiers of the hall, the eyes of three hundred of every fell creature Glasco had heard of were focused upon two orcs with swords in the center of the main room, as unarmed couples approached, holding hands.

Glasco took a few steps down the stairs, heading to where the ceremony was taking place. His path was blocked by observers and he struggled to get through.

He called out, “By Jipater, I say! What is going on here?”

Near him stood a petite goblin woman in what Glasco considered a rather fetching black and silver evening dress, with mistletoe woven through her hair and shapely ankles revealed. She answered him in pleasantly-accented Common Vatharian. “It is the Eleven Dance of Chaos. It is called 'The Limbo.' Look it up.”

Glasco had no idea where one would look up such a thing, and he had no reference library at his immediate disposal. “Well, I have never heard of it. It looks beastly! They are torturing my countryman!”

“Tsss, You’ve never heard of it? Oh, my. I guess somebody doesn’t spend as much time with the high-class elves as we do. All the cool humanoids know the dance.”

To his horror, Glasco spotted some of his Vatharian men, evidently forced into the dark ceremony. There was Sir Hargest, surrounded by the creatures, without a formal coat but wearing just a white shirt, partially unbuttoned, and dark trousers. He was standing in front of the two orcs, who stood about five feet from each other, holding out swords pointed at each other, parallel to the earth, at just under waist height.

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Hargest held hands with a rather lovely elven woman and they began moving toward the swords, as the crowd cheered and the tempo of the orcish drumming increased. They leaned back, tilting their heads all the way back, exposing their necks.

Bowen, holding hands with a tall orcish woman, was next in line behind Hargest and his partner.

“Are they going to sacrifice them? Are they going to torture my men? This must be stopped!” Glasco yelled out. Only the goblin woman next to him heard him.

“Don’t you have ballroom dancing where you’re from? Ballroom dancing is not a form of torture! I don’t know why the men are always acting like it is!”

Then she paused and looked at him, checking out his outfit from head to toe. She frowned slightly at the mud on his stockings, but otherwise seemed satisfied with him and said “You know, humans are very much in fashion this season, but they’ve all been taken. Would you like to have a try at the dance with me? We can go as a pair.”

Glasco declined the offer to dance and instead ran screaming down the steps toward the raised table where the orcish king and his elven witch were sitting. “Stop! Don’t kill him! Stop the sacrifice!” Creatures began to make way in front of him as he ran.

Hargest and his elven companion had just passed under the swords, which they cleared by a good half foot. Bowen and his own female companion were preparing for their attempt.

As Glasco ran toward the king and queen, about fifty creatures, including two of the dragons, sprang up and moved to block him. Glasco was quickly put into a hold by a couple of the orcs and buggebears, with the spike of a dragon’s tail poised a foot from his chest. Glasco stopped any attempt to move.

The band stopped, and everyone in the great hall turned to look at Glasco and then at Jend and Aida. Jend turned to the new human entrant, a flash of anger on his face.

“Sorry, but who are you exactly, and why are you disrupting our gala?”

“I am Lord Glasco! I am here as an emissary of His Highness, King Neydom of Vathary!” he said as soon as the buggebear holding him removed his hand from Glasco’s mouth.

“Okay, but why were you screaming just now? And couldn’t you have waited until tomorrow?” Aida asked.

“Tomorrow, after you’ve tortured and sacrificed our Vatharian men in your … ceremony.” Glasco had meant to say something rather harsher, but before he spoke had also decided he wanted to try to make it out of the hall alive.

There was a murmur of laughter through the hall. Even Jend started to show signs of a smile. The creatures holding Glasco freed him and started returning to their tables. One of the buggebears patted Glasco on his head as he left.

“Nobody is getting sacrificed today. The Vatharians are fine,” Jend said, and then turned to the table where most of the captured soldiers were eating. “Are you not enjoying yourselves? Isn’t the food good?”

The soldiers raised their beers toward the king amid a chorus of “ayes.” A few of the orc women sitting with them also cheered.

“We even let your wizard come!” said Jend, pointing to Siarl Mostyn at the table with the other Vatharians. He looked too tipsy to even remember a spell.

“It is just a dance, Glasco, stand down, you are embarrassing our species,” yelled Sir Bowen from his place near the center of the hall. “We just have to try to pass under the swords without falling. It is called ‘The Limbo.’ We were doing well too, before you interrupted.”

“Well King Neydon had been informed of disturbing things, and sent me to check on the condition of the men before we even consider paying a ransom! I demand to see them now!”

“But you literally just saw them,” said Aida, as she pointed to the table where the soldiers were. “They are right there. Oh, and your Sir Bowen you’ve heard from, and young Sir Hargest, who has made quite an impression, is there with our High Priestess Sionia.” Hargest and the stylish elven woman who was evidently some sort of priestess waved.

“Hmm…yes, they are. Yes. Right there. Indeed.” Glasco worried on how he would report this to his contact, whom he was supposed to meet and guide to the prisoners in just a few more hours.

“They seem fine to me,” said Jend. “Can we perhaps proceed with the dance now? Maybe you would like some food? We have specially arranged to have some human food here tonight. They tell me it is tasty. As human food goes.”

“Well, yes, but, before we pay the ransom, we wanted to see they were being treated well,” Glasco said as he tried to figure out what to do. “I would need to see where you are keeping them?”

“Hey, Vatharian soldiers! Are you being treated well?”

There was again a general chorus of “ayes” from the soldiers and their companions.

“There you go. You can pay the ransom, enjoy the party, and tomorrow you and all the Vatharians can be on your way back to your homes, and that will be the end of that,” said Jend.

Glasco had not been given any money to pay any ransom. He had been only supposed to determine the location of the prisoners for His Majesty’s Master Agent Boal and the Royal Assassins. He didn’t want to let that on though.

“Well, King Jend, I will not pay any ransom today. I must inform my king of our men’s health, and then we will discuss the matter with the treasury and then, perhaps in a couple of weeks, I can...”

“Wait,” said Jend. “You are not going to pay the ransom and take your humans back? We need to watch them and feed them for further weeks?”

The elven woman who had been with Hargest ran over, and pushed Glasco aside.

“King Jend, Your Highness! If Glasco isn’t paying the ransom, and if he's still for sale, can I buy Hargest?” asked the woman, whom they’d called the High Priestess Sionia.

“It's a ransom. Not a sale,” said the queen.

“That’s fine. How much is the ransom then?” asked Sionia, as Glasco looked on, at a loss for how to respond.

“I’ve set the ransom for Sir Hargest at two hundred gold Vatharian sovereigns,” said Jend.

“That is just twenty-five gold per ab! The Great Mother be praised for her gifts! I’ll take him!” The priestess looked very happy with her prospective shopping.

“But Sionia, honey. You can't buy men. We don't allow slavery or serfdom in our kingdom. You have to control the men using other means. You, of all people, should understand that,” said Aida, a look of exasperation on her face.

“Yes, ma’am. You are right. Of course you’re right,” replied the crestfallen Sionia.

“You know I'm sitting here, next to you, right?” said Jend.

“Yes dear. Who could miss your big, powerful masculine presence! You dominate the room!” replied Aida, smiling at him, as she patted his leg.

Jend sat back, satisfied.

“So, as I was saying, we can’t sell him to you, but, let me think.” Aida leaned over and whispered into Jend’s ear. He whispered back. She gave him a kiss. Jend sighed and stood up.

He called out to the room in a loud voice. “Let it be known that I, King Jend of Pelsa, in honor of our national festival, on a day holy to the Great Mother and to the Sky Father, do hereby command that our prisoners be released. They are free men, as of now! I declare that the ransom demand is now removed, as they have been honorable guests, and clearly the King of Vathary needs the gold a lot more than our prosperous kingdom does. Let him keep his gold, and use it to feed and clothe his poor citizens!”

There was a general cry of “hurrah” from around the room. The Vatharian soldiers raised tankards in a salute to Jend, then quickly returned to talking with each other and their new acquaintances.

Sionia asked, “So this means I can have him for free?”

“Yes, free! They are free! I hereby set all the Vatharians free. No ransom, they can all just go” said Jend

He then turned to Lord Glasco. “So, yes, tell your king to keep his money. You and all the Vatharians soldiers we took in the battle can all go back to your homes tomorrow morning. Our cooks will make you breakfast and then you can all get out of my kingdom!”

The music started up again, and the dancing continued for some time.

Glasco remained at the party for another couple of hours, attempting to determine the location the Vatharian men were staying. He joined them for drinks and human food, and they told him.

He had three dances with the goblin woman he’d met on the stairs, and two dances with an older, elegant orc lady who said she ran the country’s university, which he promised to come visit. He enjoyed himself immensely. It was one of the better parties he’d been to in the last many years. Something like the parties his mother used to give for the gentry of half of the country, back when his family had the money to do that.

Glasco felt a pang of guilt that he was trying to help the assassins, when the Vatharian soldiers were already free. Perhaps he could head off the assassins, and they could just hang out at the pub together for a while? So none of the orc lads would be killed.

He reluctantly left the party when he realized the time of his meeting with Agent Boal was fast approaching.