“Your eyes are red,” Nolkonoe said, sitting down next to Charlie. They sat along a long wooden bench in front of a just as long wooden table.

“I got into a… argument with the Chiefess,” he said, his voice normal but his eyes still showed his pain to Nolkonoe. Placing an arm around him, she gave him a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I heard,” Nolkonoe said, trying to hide the anger in her voice, straining it slightly.

“She can go a bit far,” Nolkonoe said before greeting Phukomeia with a nod as she sat down next to her.

“How is he?” Phukomeia asked in the native tongue.

“Better, just a little sad I think,” Nolkonoe responded.

Two women approached the table with large bowls of fruit. Nolkonoe accepted the food, noticing the other villagers and merchants from the other tables around them were watching. She couldn’t blame them, the argument he had with the Chiefess was heard by half the village, and just as quickly as they heard it, they spread it to the other half.

Moving over to the table, the Chiefess sat down at a large, well-decorated chair at the far end of one of the tables. A small chair sat next to her with fewer feathers and flowers adorned on it. Two women in red paint sat down on another two chairs near her. Quickly, Charlie recognised them as the Lead Huntress and Heir to the Huntresses, Klipesia. Around her arm was a large, tanned cloth bandage.

Two women in white, black, and red paint, alongside smaller red feather headdresses, sat onto another two chairs. Now he noticed it, the two huntresses also had the same red feather headdresses. Another two women, in green paint, came and sat on the remaining two chairs. As they did so, they seemed to get glares as the women noticed the larger, green feather headdresses on their heads.

Moving from their seats on the bench, the two Vultures led Charlie over to the table.

Taking two wooden chairs, the two Vultures sat down. Two Vultures came over to them, offering red feather headdresses. The two Vultures placed the headdresses onto their heads. Lifting a hand, the Chiefess gestured for Charlie to come to her. Nervously, Charlie moved to her side. Tapping the Chair next to her, she smiled at him.

“These are the leaders of the four main clans,” the Lead Huntress explained to him. Nodding Charlie lowered his head.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said, before being dragged back into his chair by the Chiefess.

“Stay, speak when I say,” she said, placing her elbow onto the table before leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand.

The women began to speak and joke in their native language, an awkward Charlie shuffling in his seat next to the Chiefess.

“What is the boy doing here?” the woman in green paint said, leaning on the table and narrowing her eyes at him. Charlie shrank even more into his chair. The Chiefess placed a soft hand onto his head.

“Relax,” she whispered to him in English. Charlie relaxed. Despite what she said earlier, she had this oddly warming feeling about her. It was like an old friend. He had known her for only a few days, yet it was like he had known her for years. Following her instructions, he relaxed.

“He is here to serve drinks. And I would like to keep him by my side until tonight’s ceremony,” the Chiefess explained, placing a gentle hand onto the head Charlie.

“Go and get drinks,” she said, and Charlie complied by quickly jumping from his seat. As he ran off, the Chiefess went to stop him as she realised, she hadn’t told him where the drinks were. But it was too late, he had run off and she could see him slip into his carriage.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back,” Phukomeia said to the table who also watched on with equal confusion.

As predicted Charlie soon returned with a large, grey bottle, inscribed with was not of their language or of his. Moving to the side of the Chiefess, he offered out the bottle of wine.

“Dwarven beer, I'll save this for a special occasion and considering it's my last day here, I assumed we might as well have it,” Charlie said, placing the bottle on the table before running off and coming back with a few glass cups which he quickly distributed to the women around the table.

“Phukomeia, translate this to him for me,” the Chiefess ordered. Phukomeia grabbed Charlie’s arm as he walked past her.

“I thought he was angry with me, why bring us such a gift?” Charlie thought for a second as Phukomeia translated this to him.

“To be honest, I am quite angry still. But since it is my last day here, I don’t want to leave on a sour note,” Charlie said, smiling at the Chiefess. All except the women in green laughed.

“A morally strong one you have there your majesty!” The Lead warrior said in English with a booming laugh. He assumed with the woman to be that the lead warrior since she had the marking he had seen before present on the warriors. And considering how respectful the village people seemed to be towards her, he assumed she held some high position in the tribe.

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“Thank you, but it's more out of politeness than anything,” Charlie responded. The woman smiled at him as she offered her empty cup outwards.

“Get me drunk boy!” she boomed again.

“Please never say that out of context,”

“Well in both your culture and ours you are already considered an adult,” she said in defence.

“And you shall be turning eighteen soon,” the lead huntress added. Charlie looked at her confused for a second.

“Well, I knew your father well,” she quickly said, getting a few nods and words of support from the others on the table.

“Fucking weird lot, you are,” he said as he began to pour the drinks for the women.

“What is this exactly?” the woman in green who seemed to be the leader of her group asked. The second woman in green, who looked to be her daughter examined her drink by raising it to the firelight in an attempt to see if there was anything in the cup.

“As I said, beer,” Charlie said as he finished pouring her cup and moved onto the lead huntress.

“Yes, but what kind? The said dwarfs made it, but how?” she continued.

“May I ask for your name?” Charlie asked, wanting to know how to refer to the woman.

“Call me by my title. I am the leader of the Forgers, and this is my daughter and heir,” she said proudly, getting a few glares from the others. The woman in the mix of red, black, and white paint was next to talk.

“I am the lead warrior, this by my side is my daughter, and my heir,” she said, both herself and her daughter sitting up proudly as they threw back their heads and downed their drinks.

“Again, a pleasure to meet you all. But back to the question at hand,” he said as he poured the drink of the heir of the huntress before moving on to the Vultures.

“It is a mix of salt from your tribe actually, fruits from the south-east tribes on their islands,” All on the table simultaneously grunted in annoyance.

“Amazonians,” they muttered before allowing him to carry on. Charlie was tempted to ask but decided it was best not to probe them on the source of their hatred.

“Lastly they add some other ingredients unknown to me. After twelve years of being left to ferment, it is ready to drink. When thinking about it, it is more of a wine than a beer. The reason they call it beer is to sell more of it to the mercenaries,” Charlie explained, pouring the last of the drinks.

“How much is left in the bottle?” the Chiefess had Nolkonoe translate for her as he took his seat next to the Chiefess.

“About half,” he said. Smiling the Chiefess downed her own glass.

“Allow the games to begin then,” the Chiefess said, getting chuckles from the women around the table and a few confused looks from Charlie.

Grabbing Charlie’s jaw, the Chiefess forced his mouth open. Lifting the bottle, she forced it between his lips. Knowing the superior strength of the Chiefess, he didn’t dare struggle as she forced him to drink the wine. As the last drop passed his lips, he felt the effects of the quick-acting alcohol take hold. His vision blurred as several women brought more bottles of the native alcohol to the table.

“You alright,” Nolkonoe said with a wide grin the Charlie. Charlie nodded, his vision still a little blurry from the sudden presence of alcohol, but not wanting to worry his ‘friends’ he stayed calm.

“Fine then, how about a little more drink?” Nolkonoe said, handing him a bottle of native wine.

The Chiefess pulled him to his feet and made him begin to pour the drink into the glasses of the women. Each giggled and laughed as they watched the obviously bordering drunk boy attempt to pour the wine with his blurred vision. Continuing their fun, they began to make a game out of trying to line their cups up with the pouring wine coming from the bottle. Charlie managed to fill a round of cups before collapsing into his seat.

Again, the Chiefess took what remained of the drink and handed the bottle to Charlie.

“How,” he paused for a second, the alcohol now beginning to set in, “how is this a game again?” Charlie asked, a little embarrassed since the merchants were beginning to surround the table. The Head Merchant was even lingering over his shoulder, a rolled-up piece of paper in his hand.

Grabbing his face, the Chiefess forced his mouth open and again made him drink the wine.

“Think of this as a little hazing ritual to thank you for the good times so far, and how many there are to come,” Nolkonoe said. The Head Merchant placed the piece of paper in front of him.

“Hey lad, the Chiefess wanted to do a little deal with you,” Grabbing the boy’s hand, he placed an imperial made pen into his grip.

“What’s it for?” Charlie asked, his vision too blurred from the alcohol to be able to make out any sentences.

“Ah, nothing bad, just need you to sign off on it,” The Head Merchant reassured.

“What is the trade for?”

“It simply a gift from us to the Chiefess,” for one reason or another the Head Merchant’s word got a few laughs from the other merchants and natives. Charlie laughed as well, not understanding the joke, but his drunkenness was starting to take over. The Chiefess and Nolkonoe exchanged a few words.

“My little pup is such a…” the Chiefess said, looking back to Nolkonoe who quickly muttered something to her.

“Lightweight drinker,” the Chiefess finished. Charlie gave her a weak hit in the side.

“So, you ready to sign?” the Head Merchant said, guiding Charlie’s hand to the paper.

“Sure,” he muttered as he signed his family signature, before then signing his own. Cheers went up as the Merchants hurried off. Instinctively he went to follow, but the arms of the Chiefess wrapped around him, preventing movement.

Kisses started to smother his face as she grabbed the collars of his shirt. Licking his face a few times, she threw him onto the ground. Looking under the table, he could just see the merchants hurrying for their carriages.

Hands flooded his body as the women surrounded him. Grabbing his arms and legs, they lifted him into the air before gently placing him on the table. Through his blurred vision, he could see the Chiefess handing the contract to one of her warriors before handing a large, green, and purple jewel-encrusted gold coin to the Head Merchant. He nodded to her, before running after the other merchants.

“w…Wha sss happening?” Charlie said, feeling his tongue become numb as the women surrounded him as he lay on the table.

“Your home my pup,” she said as she was passed a bottle of wine by one of the women.

Opening his mouth gently with little resistance, she lifted his head and began to pour the drink into his mouth. Coughing and spluttering, the dazed, confused, and slowly weakening Charlie began to struggle. The women laughed as they used little effort to keep him on the table.

“It’s alright, you are now safer than you have ever been,” Phukomeia said as Nolkonoe plucked the now empty bottle from his lips, quickly though she replaced it with another. Seeing his eyes start to close, Phukomeia smiled and placed a kiss on the side of his head.

“Allow yourself to sleep, allow the darkness to take you. When you wake, we shall claim you as one of our own,” as Phukomeia said this, Charlie managed to look to his side once again as he saw the carriages of the Merchants begin to leave. They had left him. No longer having the strength to fight the alcohol, he followed the words of Phukomeia and slipped into the darkness.