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then it would be his first priority upon completion of his term of service.



Council in Aton-Ri
    The immense meeting hall in the Aton-Ri city council building was abuzz with excitement. Much had transpired while Thatcher and company were off in the Wild Lands that now required discussion and action. In the room were commanders from Aton-Ri’s regular army forces, a few other emissaries and dignitaries from Rajik and Darkmoor, several important-looking Durgak representing Stonehold, richly clad merchant bosses eager to find the underlying cause of the increasing humanoid raids on their westbound caravans, and two other very remarkable individuals.
    The first appeared to be a chats-enash of a type Thatcher had never seen before. She had humanesque features mixed with some type of feline race. The striking female was covered head-to-tail in short, sleek black fur. Beautiful and human in her facial features except for her feline-like ears, she was a positively stunning woman if one didn’t mind a little extra fur. This fur to some degree offset her scarcity of clothing, consisting of a breechclout covering around the waist and some ornate jewelry attached to a minimalist top housing her athletic but modest bosom. Thatcher could hardly take his eyes off her.
    “What sort of being is she, captain?”
    “I suspect,” answered Gideon, “she is part Zafirr.”
    “Aye, lad,” added Duncan. “Zafirr are a race of feline humanoids who live in the Djarmangara Jungle on the southern shore of the Sea of Zimri. Their patron is the Malakim named Elisheva, mistress of the hunt. The feline races are mentioned but not named in the Book of Beginnings .”
    “Aton-Ri is not that far from the Djarmangara. Why have I never seen one before?”
    “Zafirr seldom stray outside of their homelands,” answered Gideon. “She is the first I have ever actually met.”
    “Me too,” Duncan affirmed, “but I am comfortable with her presence as a member of one of the races serving the Malakim.”
    Goldain seemed indifferent to her strangeness if not to her physical attributes.
    “We have a race of Zafirr in the Clan Lands, but they don’t live with the Wolf Clan. The white ones, Snow Leopards we call them, live in the lands ruled by the White Wyrm Clan. I’ve never actually met one, but the White Wyrm Clan have an alliance with them.”
    “Are they allies with your clan?”
    “Quite the opposite, but under my father’s guidance the Wolf Clan Qarahni will trade with most anyone who comes in peace, so discovery of new races and possible trading partners is part of my mission as an emissary of the Wolf Clan.” The northerner bent close and whispered to Thatcher. “Given her beauty and form, I certainly would not mind an opportunity to liaise with her to discuss relations between our people.”
    Thatcher sensed much more than trade agreements occupied Goldain’s intentions. Melizar remained quiet and indifferent, but Thatcher observed that the strange female intently examining Melizar, as if she was not sure what to make of the covered and hidden person sitting across the table from her.

    Arreya, the Zafirr chats-enash, was as interested in the five adventurers sitting across the table as they seemed to be in her. She knew her appearance drew strange looks from most Adami, who seldom encountered those of her mother’s race. Arreya also knew her features were striking by Adami standards. This drew a different kind of interest, at least from the male Adami she had encountered. She heard the others refer to the ebony-skinned warrior with deep, calming, azure eyes as Gideon. The dark warrior captain bore a crest upon his breastplate. She wondered if this marked him as some great chief or leader. Whatever he was, he showed more self-control than most Adami males in her presence. Gideon seemed immune to her feminine attributes more so than the others.
    The tall, golden-haired barbarian stared at her as though he were starving, and she were a