---Accusation---
---Khr’kowan’s perspective---
“EXPLAIN YOURSELF!!!” shrieks the small green skinned biped who just entered the room as she springs down from the shoulder of the man covered in mud and red bloodstains, drawing my sister’s foot and pointing it at me with murderous intent.
“Whu… what?!” I ask, startled and completely at a loss for what I might have to explain!
“THE ATTACK! EXPLAIN!!!” she screams!
“Representative, what are you talking about?! What attack?!” I ask, not a little unnerved by being in an enclosed space with the combination of woman and weapon that dealt me the single worst wound I’ve ever sustained!
She may be small but I know she’s fast, nimble, ruthless and won’t hesitate to strike a killing blow!
“THE ATTACK ON DITH!!! ONE OF YOU DID IT! DON’T ACT LIKE YOU DON’T KNOW!!!” accuses the formidable Twigg woman, furiously.
My insides go cold at her words.
“I… I know nothing of this! If one of my people attacked this village, they did so without my knowledge and certainly without my approval! You have to realise that I wouldn’t jeopardise the peace between us at this stage, don’t you?!” I plead.
“How do you know it was a Vrakhand?” asks Ambassador Ong (the conversation with whom and with whose wife was just interrupted by this intrusion), his voice placid and penetrating.
Flatly, Taylor answers without taking his gaze from the knife hand of the one in front of him “One of ’em came to the mine… Beaten up and bleeding… He passed out pretty quick and I ran him here to get seen to by the doctors… He said it was a Vrakhand who’d done it but he lost consciousness right after. Weren’t able to ask him any clarifyin’ questions… All the Twigg’ve downed tools to go an’ help ’em out… I’ve told Phan to expect more wounded comin’ in soon.”
“He said ‘Vrakhand’? He used that word?” asks Lhamo.
The large Terran frowns “Actually… he said ‘monster’…”
“Hmmm…” she ponders “…Representative, does the term ‘monster’ exclusively refer to the Vrakhand in your language? Could this be a case of broken telephone?”
“Why are you defending them!?” spits the Twigg girl, jabbing my sister’s foot in my direction in outrage “They’ve always hated us! What’s more likely; a nonVrakhand monster turning up in these parts or that she’s lying when she says she doesn’t know what I’m talking about?! Or, maybe it was that seven footed murderer she’s put in charge of bossing the Vrakhand women around! We already know she doesn’t mind killing Folk!”
“So there are nonVrakhand monsters?” clarifies the male ambassador.
The girl makes a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh and irritablely answers “I guess so! Sure! I've heard of such a thing as monsters that aren’t people, monsters that don’t build, monsters that hunt alone and don’t live together! But…”
“The khorhaszh…” I interrupt, gravely.
“You know what she’s talking about, Representative Khr’kowan?” asks Lhamo.
I give a positive gesture and explain “Legend tells that they were a people who made war against the Weaver herself… and were cursed to be reduced to animals… Dumbness, brutishness, senselessness, solitude… these were the wages of their arrogance.”
“So, they’re animals? You think at least? And, I take it, they’re not particularly common?” asks Ong.
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“I’ve only encountered one once in my life… Its head hangs from the ceiling of my palace… It killed three of my sisters before we managed to bring it low!… Without exaggeration, it was the hardest fight of my life!”
All three of the offworlders lean away from me in apparent alarm at my words.
“Was this… anywhere near here?” asks Lhamo, finally.
“It wasn’t… The last time one of the khorhaszh was sighted in the Khawekhan Realm was generations ago. This was while travelling through a range of mountains that stands [hundreds of kilometres] to the Northwest of here.” I explain.
The Twigg girl sneers “Alright… so… it was either a Vrakhand… ooooor it was a monster of legend that hasn’t been seen around here for [hundreds of years]… Which seems more likely?”
“Representative…” I start, resolutely “…if one of my people has violated the peace treaty I signed with you in my father’s name, then I swear to you, they shall see justice for it!!!”
She scowls and (an almost imperceptible amount) pulls her weapon back, studying me through narrowed eyes.
“What if it was Haorken?” she poses, suspiciously.
I step forward, steadily bending my front legs and lowering my upperbody to put my face a mere [30cm] from hers.
She does not baulk, neither cringing back from me nor lashing forwards as I press the soft flesh beneath my throat against the thanatite blade that has already penetrated it once.
With my eight eyes staring straight into her two, I growl “If this accusation is true… if my sister is responsible for this after I made her my First Woman, I will strike off her head myself or may you strike off mine!… This I vow!” with conviction.
The woman I’m making the oath to studies my face for a long few moments as my heart beats hard behind my breast plate.
Finally, she pulls the edge of my sister’s foot from my throat and (without looking) nimbly twirls it around and sheaths it back at her hip with her dextrous five fingered hand.
“I believe you.” she states, flatly, not meeting my eyes.
Rearing back up to my full height, I offer “If your people need supplies of any kind to aid the survivors, name them and I’ll have them brought here to the embassy to collect. I obviously won’t be able to offer vegetable matter (as my people do not consume it) but meat from our larders, blankets from our silk stores, lumber from our lumberyard or anything else we might have that you might need!”
“I appreciate it.” she says, exhaustedly.
I’m about to offer aid in tracking down and killing the khorhaszh if it turns out to be one… but hold myself back.
Something tells me now would not be an opportune moment for the first ever invitation into a Twigg village(!)
I turn to the ambassadors, sat together on the far side of their desk.
“Ambassadors, would you permit me the use of one of your [communicators]?… I need to make a call to my sister!”
---Dolg’s perspective---
I wake up.
I hurt in the head and feel very weak!
“Nnnnnngggggghhh!” I groan as I shift the weight on the… surprisingly comfortable bed I’m lying on.
“Sir?” comes a strange voice.
I blearily open the eyes and start back from the strange face of the one sat beside me in the unfamiliar room.
The hair is black with a streak of white in it (though she doesn’t look old), the skin is a strange pale beige colour and the eyes are a vivid shade of purple.
“Don’t move too much…” she pleads, holding an enormous palm out to me “…you lost a lot of blood so you’re on an [IV] to replace your fluids now. You don’t want to rip it out… It would hurt!”
I look to the place on the arm that she indicated and see that there’s a tube stuck into me in a way I can’t see because it’s covered in a layer of sticky cloth.
“Where am I?” I ask the giant woman, dazed.
“You’re at the embassy. You were brought here from the worksite to be treated for your injuries after the attack on your village… Do you remember?”
Roaring… Smashing… Eating… Crushing… It all hits me like a charging [beetleoceros]!
I feel tears well up in the eyes as I grimace “I remember…”
The face goes sad as she says “I’m really sorry about this… erm… Sorry, I didn’t get your name from Representative Viig? I’m Emiko ‘Smiles’ Miyazaki… You can just call me ‘Emiko’.”
“Dolg of Dith… you can just call me 'Dolg'.” I say, miserably.
“Alright Dolg…” she smiles, sympathetically “…I know this is hard and I really wish it could wait until it might be a little less painful for you… but I really need you to answer some questions about the attack for me… Do you think you can?”
“Ask…” I say, face screwed up and tears spilling from the closed eyelids.
“Do you know what attacked you?” she asks, her voice serious.
“It was a monster…” I moan.
“Was it a Vrakhand or was it something else?” she asks, a little more urgently.
“I… don’t know… I don’t think so… It was a weird looking one if it was… I think it was something else.”
“Did it look anything like this…?”
I open my eyes and turn to look at her, seeing that she’s holding a magic glowing picture square towards me.
It shows a perfectly realistic image, like a moment frozen in time.
In it is a Vrakhand woman with a large skull held in the hands and pointed towards me.
The skull looks vaguely similar to the face above it but… just more…
It’s nearly twice the width and height, the horns are thicker, the jaws are thicker and end in a blunt, rounded snout.
“That’s it… That’s what attacked Dith…”