Lion Head Mesa it's the same old trick, they played their hand

the grand sender-wati flicked his tail to the air. to qiao, he summoned to mind the likeness of an oil seep; dark, luxurious, and incredibly dangerous. 

toula remained silent, though her look to the fellahin commanded some unspoken will. qiao stepped back as they approached, collecting the pale peltskin of spices at her feet. 

she wished to press; to demand her bloodprice be paid — but there were many politics at play, and being at the foot of someone else’s gate was perhaps the most dangerous vantage to be in. 

she wordlessly motioned for her guardsmen to stay put, escorted by the fellahin now to her old keep. 

she bowed head. your grace. and then she was whisked away by the slender silhouette of the fellahin.