Brambles was wandering his fields this day in search of food. He was hoping to find a nice tasty blind rat or some delicious little salamanders to eat, since his current form was ideally suited to eating such things. His snake body slithered silently between the great fungus stalks. Today, he was an impressive subterranean version of the anaconda nearly 14 feet in length and weighing nearly 150 pounds. He noted the presence of an Ota at the edge of his senses, the warm signature of the Ota’s body cleanly differentiated from the background coolness by the snake body’s incredible infrared senses. Distracted from his hunt by Geremy, he assumed his natural form, that of the Ota, a few feet away from Geremy.
Unsurprised by the sudden appearance of his leader, Geremy simply reached out his right hand, the normal Ota gesture of introducing communication. The Elder Ota responded in kind with his off-hand, and Geremy shared all that had transpired that day with the Elder. The elder turned to walk back to his domicile, still maintaining the light grip that they shared as they conversed. Geremy followed, more mindful of where he was going than of looking at the Elder. It was always this way when Ota conversed. Their touch communicated everything an Ota needed to understand, and was completely inscrutable to outsiders. In fact, a casual observer might mistake the two Ota walking and talking for two lovers lost in thought, silently walking along and holding hands. This of course, would have been a gross misconception, Ota being nothing like most humanoids.
Ota were, for starters, asexual. They looked like humanoids well enough, with their bilaterally symmetrical approximations of bipeds. Their bodies were comprised of dozens of symbiotic colonies of plant matter that worked together to approximate humanoid form in order to communicate with others, to work, and to find food and safety. This gave them a very humanoid appearance, but a very non-humanoid mentality. They were in fact quite well known for the misconception that they didn’t have a single mind, but instead had a group mind that simply thought of itself as “I” for simplicity’s sake. It was certainly a matter of fact that mind-altering effects did little to keep an Ota from fleeing or defending itself. Most Ota appeared more male than female, but most Ota considered themselves to be neither, although most outsiders referred to Ota as ‘he’ or ‘him’ in conversation.
Geremy related the tale of the fallen Tolakian to Brambles, who was very interested in the possessions of the late Belectholdil. Brambles was very aware of the powers of sorcery that the Tolakians wielded, and was concerned that the Ota he nurtured in the belly of the chasm might somehow be blamed for this accidental death. It was a possibility with very bad outcome for the Ota, if he was right about it. As they reached Brambles’ home (which was really nothing more than a smaller cave) he decided what must be done. Brambles would have to take the belongings back to the Tolakians. It would be a long journey, but it was safer than having angry Tolakians bearing down on his commune. (Brambles did not pretend to understand Tolakians very well, and had no idea that they were almost as non-aggressive as his own people. It was a common mistake that most people held against the Tolakians, due to their kinship with other reptilian races.)
Brambles said his farewells to Geremy, who returned to his farming. Geremy was a good person, but was not really interested in the affairs of the world. He was more than happy to hand off the responsibility of returning the Tolakian’s possessions to Brambles. He decided that going through Dwarven territory with so much magic might be awkward for the Dwarves, who were uncomfortable with arcane arts. It would be more dangerous, but he would take the old ways inhabited by the Khazini. Their self discipline and strict adherence to the formality of contracts should ensure his safe passage through the region. He could think of no reason for the Khazini to bar his passage. He would simply flow through their area like nutrients through a root.
Khazini territory was not loosely defined. Its borders in The Deep were very well defined, and very well guarded. Most races avoided the Khazini as much as possible. Of course, that was mostly due to the well-earned reputation the Khazini had concerning the value of life. A typical Khazin would not bother a wanderer, unless it had a contract out on said wanderer. In that case, the wanderer would probably be bothered to death by the Khazin. Brambles was counting on this to get him through their territory with a minimum of hassles. The alternative, moving through the Lizardfolk’s territory, was unthinkable to Brambles. They were-by comparison to the Khazin-mindlessly violent, with little in the way of discipline or rules, and there was a good chance that anything walking through their territory would end up in a stew-pot, animal or vegetable!
The Khazini were very well disciplined, both within their borders and without. They were known for their affiliations with various monastic sects, and though the disciplines that were taught were often very violent in nature, they were also designed to instill order among the Khazini. Khazini were an unusual race of humanoid, resembling humans for the most part, except for their thicker necks…and their huge, gaping, mouthfuls of teeth…and their penchant for swallowing little animals whole…and…well, you get the idea. They are frightening to look upon, especially the first time one sees a Khazin with her mouth agape. Khazini culture was matriarchal, and mostly their females traveled from home. Males generally didn’t travel unless they were exiled. A Khazin was only exiled for grievous transgressions of Khazini law. They despised those that could not keep their word, and those that behaved erratically. Females seldom fell to that sort of behavior, so mostly males in exile wandered The Deep, usually working for Drow, or sometimes being hired by races like the Tolakians as defenders or messengers.
Brambles had just entered Khazini territory when he was stopped by an advance patrol of three of the humanoids.
“What is your business here, Ota?” growled the leader, a large female with a dark, almost purple hide.
“I seek passage through your territory, Mistress,” replied Brambles.
“Can you pay the tax, I wonder?” returned the dark Khazin. She leered at the dark bundle tucked under Brambles’ arm. The outline seemed a little unfriendly, and the bloody sack at his hip seemed no less suspicious.
“I am returning a lost soul to his people,” Brambles offered, declining to respond to the blatant request for a bribe. “This Tolakian fell, and I am returning his head to his people.”
With that, he released the ties that held the bloody sack to his waist, and opened it for the Khazini to see. They all leaned in towards the Ota’s grisly prize. They seemed eager, almost exited, to see the dead Tolakian’s head. The lead Khazin reached out for the head, and snatched the golden ring from the late Tolakian’s nose.
“This will do fine, Ota wanderer. You may pass unhindered into Khazini territory. Be aware of the restricted areas, there are signs to ward unwelcome creatures from them. You can see, eh wanderer?”
“Of course,” said Brambles, returning the head to its sack, pleased that the bribe did not cost him personally, as he had little worth anything to offer the Khazin. He walked past the now-indifferent patrol, and journeyed deep into Khazini territory. He avoided the ‘restricted’ areas with ease. There’s nothing like a head on a pike to get your attention, after all.
