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The Beastmaker's Diplomacy

_ JUNGLE _

The Beastmaker's first visit to the Southern Enclaves caused quite an uproar, being both unannounced and unanticipated. Even at this early point, an atmosphere of independence was growing in the Enclaves, who chafed somewhat under the taxes they had to send back to the city-states that founded them in the first place, so the Empress herself should have expected a cool reception. But the element of surprise worked in her favor, and her charisma and vitality soon won over the people of Twinharbor, where her ship had landed following its perilous crossing of the Great Current. The miracle she performed there - bringing to life a carved stone statue of herself, which had been erected before the local branch of her church - did not do her reputation any harm either, and said church (which was already one of the biggest on the Southern Continent) became the continent's leading center of worship practically overnight. The lasting impression she left on Twinharbor would prove to be key in the then-future events of the Independence War, leading some to wonder if her actions at that time were motivated by some form of divine foresight...

---

Sayn sighed morosely as she looked out across the endless plains, her golden Riding-Beast plodding steadily ahead underneath her. The extravagant construct, which had become recognized as her 'official' mode of transport despite having been crafted on a whim and mostly just to pass the time during her original visit to Parakemnon's tribe, had survived the sea-journey - including the storm and the crash (albeit picking up a couple of easily-repaired scratches on its surface) - lying dead and dormant in a cargo-room next to the Elite Beasts that were now spread out in front of her in a broad fan, ready to discourage any overly-adventurous local wildlife they came across.

Her currently depressed temper had several reasons. One was the surroundings. The plains were so immense that the initial explorers had assumed they simply covered the entire continent (something that had only recently been disproved, with the Centaur's discovery of an equally-immense jungle further to the south), and had so far defied naming. After all, 'The Great Plains' were already taken, by a far less impressive specimen on the home-continent. The two didn't really look that much alike, though. The Great Plains she had grown up in were an immense, near-featureless expanse of swaying, bright-green grass, easily reaching an adult to thigh-height or a child to somewhere near the neck. These plains were more irregular, and less colorful - clumps and hillocks of rough, yellowish-brown grass stood stubbornly against the steady push of the winds, broken up by areas covered in equally-tough bushes and shrubs. Here and there, a large boulder broke up the monotony, usually with a handful of thin, sickly-looking trees clinging to life on their lee-side.

Still, the similarities were enough to bring up memories of childhood - most of them bad - while the dissimilarities just served to make the whole environment more depressing. And while she couldn't really blame her state of mind on these environmental factors, they had certainly served to prolong her depression, giving her no chance to snap out of the funk she had wallowed in since shortly after landing in Twinharbor. She had expected to be inundated with diplomatic events and meetings - and had not been disappointed on that account - but she hadn't expected what had happened when she went to visit 'her' local church. The statue out front had been... disturbing enough to begin with, clearly depicting her as a grandiose, all-loving goddess, but once she got closer, it somehow got even worse.

She'd been able to somehow feel the devotion of the artist, the love - not of her as a person, but for the concepts and ideals she had come to represent - he had poured into ever stroke of the chisel. It had given the otherwise-dead stone the same sort of vibrancy that she was used to feeling from the beasts she hand-crafted herself... so of course, she HAD to touch it. Fortunately, everyone there had been too busy gasping and staring as the statue came to life and jumped down from its plinth to notice how surprised she was. Somehow, it had moved as if alive, even though the statue hadn't contained any of the things she built into her own constructions... no joints or moving parts whatsoever. It should have fragmented, torn itself apart the moment it tried to move. But instead, it had just cracked at the joints and started walking around like it was no big deal.

Just so she could pretend she'd meant to do that, she'd ordered the statue to build a canal and pool for the church, so that the Merfolk could participate in the local services, and it had - as usual - worked horribly well. Several layers of symbolism had already been applied to the act by the time she left, and she felt dimly certain that more were still joining it. She'd used a statue of herself - one that had depicted her as an etheric, divine creature, even - to perform a simple, mundane task that directly and literally 'paved the way' for a more diverse flock to worship in her church, after all. An act of humility! A symbol of her dedication to building bridges (or canals, as the case may be) between the diverse races of the world! A demonstration that she aimed to serve her subjects, rather than being served by them! New adherents had flooded the church, which would probably have to expand its worship-spaces rapidly - and would do so easily, what with the number of local workmen who had volunteered to assist with any future work that needed doing there, eager to follow her fine example.

She'd let her church flourish based on the logic of 'let them believe what they will, as long as they don't do any harm', but by now, it was turning into a major beast. Worship of the Old Gods, which had been dwindling steadily since the gods themselves disappeared, was by now practiced only by people too old to change, and the occasional ultra-conservative backwoods community. Instead, more and more people flocked to her church, acknowledging her as not merely an Empress, but a Goddess - despite, or perhaps BECAUSE, she had never actually_claimed_ godhood. Okay, so maybe she had... _implied_godhood, here and there, for the sake of political expediency. But she had never, even once, come right out and claimed that she was a goddess, nor had she ever requested, asked, or demanded that anyone worship her. But people had been waiting for so long, hoping for the return of the gods, and been left disappointed. Now they were jumping on her as a viable replacement in ever-increasing numbers. Sure, at the moment, there were probably a lot of 'worshipers' in her temples and churches that were just there to seem fashionable and progressive, or just there for the orgies... but that percentage was bound to drop steadily. Religion was known to be dreadfully infectious.

Maybe she wouldn't have minded this latest burst of increased devotion either, if it hadn't been for the lingering memories of the helplessness she had felt on the ship, during that storm. Her powers were a one-note thing - bring dead stuff to life. Handy, sure. Impressive, definitely. Useful when you're on a ship caught in a storm... not really. In fact, there was lots of situations where her powers were rather useless. In the end, she had precious little in common with the Gods of old. At most, she might be similar to the demi-gods that had been born from their occasional intersection with mortal lovers - and certainly, there were hints suggesting that was exactly what she was, though of course such an idea still left a number of unanswered questions... but even if that was the truth, that still didn't change the fact that even the greatest of those demi-gods - those who had been called 'Scions' and wielded truly miraculous power - hadn't been even close to the might of their divine parent.

There was no way she could truly answer the prayers and expectations of her ever-growing flock, and she was growing increasingly worried about what would happen when they realized that. Would the empire of peace and prosperity that she had fought so desperately and suffered so greatly to build be torn apart in the fires of a religious war? She could all-too-easily imagine so. Occasionally, she had nightmares about it, particularly since the storm. She wished she had Korlin with her... the wisdom of the Kirin - and the comfort of her beloved's embrace - could have easily dispelled the shadow hovering over her. Even Cybra's pointed words would have been welcome - the little creature had a way of pulling her back down to earth when her head was in a cloud, even if that cloud happened to be black as coal. But they were both uncounted miles away, and it would be months before she'd see either one of them again...

Lutra was, of course, still steadily by her side... but however lovely and affectionate the Otterkin was, she just wasn't quite close enough for this. She was a good and close friend-with-benefits, but Sayn didn't really feel like she could open up to her about her deepest insecurities and fears... especially with the way the Beastkin girl had been looking at her recently. Seeing her in action on the Flower-Dragons' island, and again in Twinharbor, seemed to have instilled the youth with a certain sense of awe... not enough to stop her from being as deliciously dominant in bed as ever, sure, but enough to create a saddening sense of distance between them.

At least the visit to the main Centaur encampment, established around the bones of what would hopefully one day be the mighty fortress-city of Parapolis (named by a general vote, as Parakemnon had hastened to explain - and only narrowly winning out over 'Saynopolis', probably largely because it just didn't roll off the tongue as smoothly) had managed to distract her from her worries for a while. It had been delightful to see the sturdy Centaur Chieftain - now Centaur King - again, and doubly delightful to be reunited with Jazera and Jareza, the twin courtesans she'd first met many years earlier, long before she ascended to her current, lofty station.

The twins were amongst the small minority of human women who had elected to follow the Centaurs on their emigration to the south. Indeed, the Centaur's stable of 'camp followers' had diminished enormously from the days during the war, when a mixture of (rather eager) civilian volunteers and well-compensated courtesans had seen to their needs. Most of the courtesans had left after the war ended, often using their payouts to set up business in the city-state of their choice - in some cases opening well-regarded brothels. Only a few - the twins included - had stayed on uncompensated along with most of the original volunteers, supplemented by the influx of new 'devotees' of Sayn's church.

Most of the volunteers, however, had balked at leaving their native continent for the wild, untamed, and undeniably dangerous reaches of the Southern Continent, and even with the occasional devoted 'pilgrim' arriving from one of the Enclaves to spend a few weeks among the centaurs, 'broadening her horizons' (amongst other things), the remaining full-timers were undeniably overworked. Quite a few of the Centaurs had taken to seizing on every possible excuse to visit the Enclaves themselves, participating in 'mass' at the local Beastmaker Churches to take some of the load off, but there was still a lot of Centaur stallions around, mostly with nothing to do since the construction-work had ground to a virtual halt for lack of materials, and further exploration of the jungles deferred to avoid angering the natives (more than they already had).

For all that, Jazera and Jareza hadn't seemed to mind. They'd stayed on mostly because they'd grown quite fond of Parakemon (the sentiment being, apparently, quite mutual), and also because they looked ahead. "As courtesans go, we're over the hill." Jazera had commented over Sayn's wholehearted protestations. The twins looked as blindingly beautiful as ever, even if they had a few more wrinkles around the corner of their oft-smiling and sensually-shaped mouths. "Being a courtesan's a young woman's game, and it doesn't have much in the way of long-term prospects. As soon as you even _approach_middle age, your choices basically boil down to finding a suitably wealthy benefactor who appreciates women with experience and confidence more than having some pretty young thing to show off to his guests, or going into management instead. And we just love being hands-on with our work too much for that." The last part had been said in unison, with a matching pair of naughty smiles.

Certainly, Parakemnon fit the bill for 'wealthy benefactor', at least insofar as centaurs measured wealth. He was already a king in name and title, and once his capital was fully constructed, he'd be living like one too. And he'd already given promise to the two that he'd keep them by his side for as long as they desired to be there, even as more mares became available thanks to Sayn's solving of their gender-ratio problem. To a pair of professional courtesans, settling down as beloved concubines to a newly-minted king seemed to be about as pleasant a retirement-plan as they could hope for. Even if it meant spending a bit more time living out of an (admittedly luxurious) tent while waiting for said king's palace to finish construction.

And needless to say, once they'd finished chatting and catching up, they settled down for a whole lot of sex. Orgies were nothing new for her, what with living in a Seraglio and everything, but even someone with her expansive experience had to admit that the combination of two highly-skilled and perfectly-in-sync courtesans, and one very big, very virile and very dominant Centaur stallion, was a potent one. Just being underneath Parakemnon again was delightful - his sheer size and practiced authority hit her submissive side just right, and unlike the first time they were together, there was really no reason for her to even pretend to be in charge while she was on all fours on the floor, having her ass savagely pounded by his long, thick horse-cock.

Really, just that alone would've been enough to replace any worries and concerns in her head with pleasure (tinged by just the right amount of pain, as his sheer girth tested her sphincter anew), but add to that a highly-talented mouth glued to her pussy, tongue digging tirelessly into the sensitive folds, while another mouth fluttered from nipple to nipple to mouth, equally-skilled fingers dancing wherever it was not... she'd been stimulated to within an inch of her life, her mind lost in a recursive cycle of orgasm, increased sensitivity, intensified pain and pleasure, and orgasm again.

There had been no ropes, no chains... but nor were they needed. She had been a slave to lust, imprisoned between Parakemnon's sheer size and mass, and the unparalleled skills of the twin courtesans. It would have been easier for her to call a stop to the party if she'd been merely gagged - as it were, her mouth had produced nothing but lustful groans, until one of the girls shifted around to offer her something to snack on. Her tongue had moved practically on its own, driven by habit more than sentient thought - something that was in sorely short supply while she bore the brunt of a dual-pronged attack on her pussy and ass. The party hadn't ended until Parakemnon's (significant) endurance ran out and he finally pulled out of her gaping, red-rimmed asshole to let the result of several orgasms of his own dribble out. Not even when her overstrained bladder had given out during a particularly intense orgasm - the girl clamped to her pussy (whichever one it was - she couldn't tell the twins apart even when she WASN'T befuddled by pleasure and lust) had never even stopped licking, simply drinking down her piss without a shade of shame as she continued to stimulate Sayn's pussy, clit, and even urethra. It had been a new experience for Sayn - and one she'd been too embarrassed to really ask the girls about later, when she was more coherent.

The release this session had offered - a chance to put worries and concerns behind her and just surrender to the pleasure - had been seductive. Enough so that she'd decided to prolong her stay in the camp for another day... just so she could 'help ease the burdens' of the overworked camp-followers by spending the entire day in the Women's Kheymah, servicing a never-ending stream of virile, lusty young Centaurs. It wasn't quite the same as the previous night's unearthly pleasures, of course - even with Lutra standing by (as she had done during a similar situation aboard the ship), keeping an eye on things and ensuring that Sayn stayed hydrated and paused occasionally for snacks and some soothing balms.

Despite said balms, the experience had left Sayn thoroughly sore in and around both holes. It was by far the longest single orgy she'd ever been in... or rather, the longest 'train', as she'd subsequently learned it was called when you were with a long string of lovers rather than a bunch at the same time - named after the long string of wagons that made up a wagon-train, of course. Well, whatever it was called, her body wasn't entirely happy with her choices! Her muscles had ached badly too, in various places, from spending so much time bent over one of the mating-benches the Centaurs had constructed for just that purpose. But an expert massage, courtesy of the courtesan twins, had solved most of THAT, and she'd at least been able to ride when she headed out the next day. And it had worked. During those ten hours or so she'd spent getting railed almost nonstop by well-hung Centaurs, she hadn't worried about the dilemmas surrounding her supposed divinity even once!

But alas, she had a job to do, and she couldn't justify wasting any more time on diversion. So she'd said her goodbyes to the Centaurs, promised to deal with the native-situation, and headed south with her retinue. At the moment, Lutra was leaning heavily against her back, snoring lightly as she caught up on her sleep - she'd hooked up with a charming young Centaur during their brief stay in the encampment, and had spent most of the previous night saying her goodbyes. It said something about the darkness of Sayn's mood that not even the sensation of the Otterkin's pert breasts and soft fur rubbing against her back could lighten it.

Meanwhile, Orichaniel the Flower-Dragon Drone - Ori to his friends - was airborne, providing a more agile and perceptive eye-in-the-sky than her own sail-birds could hope to be. Every now and then, he'd swoop down to warn her of a monster approaching the group from a particular angle, prompting her to concentrate her beasts in that direction to... pointedly dissuade it. Thanks to him, she also knew that the jungle wasn't far away now, and that it thus was time for her to shake off her moods and put her game-face on. She was about to do something monumental, after all - making contact with an intelligent, if primitive species that time itself had seemingly forgotten, and hopefully forging a mutually beneficial diplomatic relationship with them.

Again.

That thought, at least managed to bring forth the ghost of a smile on her face. The storm had brought a lasting darkness with it, but if it hadn't been for that, she'd never have found the floating island that the Flower-Dragons called home, learned of their startling origins, or recruited them to join her empire... obtaining yet another extraordinary Consort in the process. She'd already made the early preparations to honor her side of the bargain with the strange, part-vegetative, part-insectoid creatures - by separating a pair of cargo-ships from the Migration Fleet currently dry-docked in Twinharbor to wait out the storm-season. Once the weather had cleared, they'd set off for the Flower-Dragon Island with Orichaniel leading the way, providing the necessary lift to move a Flower-Dragon colony away from their slowly-cruising home and onto solid land - specifically, a jungle-choked island off the southern coast of the Great Plains which, while an overgrown hellhole by most race's standards, would be a paradise for the arboreal creatures.

Ori had been a tad overwhelmed when they first arrived - awed in equal measures by the sheer size of the continent, and the denseness and advanced construction of human cities. Fortunately, the Flower-Dragon Queen had chosen wisely, and his mental agility had allowed him to adapt with startling speed. These plains had to be an incredibly alien landscape for a member of a species which had, until now, been solely confined to a single, relatively small and completely overgrown island, but he was taking it in a stride and making the most of the updrafts and long sight-lines... though there had definitely been a note of longing in his voice when he had reported the proximity of the local jungle, which sounded to be nearly as dense as the one he'd grown up in.

Sighing again, she mentally commanded her beasts to pick up the pace. The jungle was already visible as a bright-green smear on the horizon, but it would still take a while to actually reach its borders... and if she couldn't bury her concerns and worries in sexual pleasure, then perhaps she could bury them in work. The sooner the better.

It was an impressive sight, the jungle rising before her. Enough to make her forget her worries, and start thinking about why she'd come there, at least. It wasn't the kind of solid, unnatural-seeming wall that the jungle on the Flower-Dragon island had been, but there was still a fairly clear demarcation between the plains to the north and the rainforest to the south. She wasn't visible from where she was sitting, but from the airborne perspective of her sailbirds, an enormous mountain-range could be seen rising far to the east, their sides stained green halfway up. Beyond those, based on what she had heard from prospectors in Twinharbor and Centaur scouts, was an equally-vast desert wasteland where nothing survived save the occasional hardy cactus.

Ori had been waiting for her to arrive, lounging in the top of a gnarled jungle-tree, clearly enjoying the familiar surroundings. "I flew a bit further before returning here..." he reported as she approached. "And there's someone living in there, no doubt. I spotted several areas that had been clear-cut and turned into farms. I didn't dare get too close, though, but there was definitely movement down there." He rubbed his chitinous nose, glancing across the phalanx of Elite Beasts that surrounded her. A couple of them bore scratches and dents in their armor-plating from close encounters with the monsters that roamed the plains, but that only served to make them look even more dangerous. "I know we're going to be trying to be diplomatic, but... maybe you should produce some more beasts first, just to be safe. I didn't get a clear look at them, but there were some tremendously huge creatures on those farms, apparently being used as beasts of burden. As big as my Queen... bigger, even. Even one of them would probably be a match for every beast you've brought here."

This gave Sayn pause - the Flower-Dragon Queen had impressed her when they'd met, and any beast built on the same scale would certainly be a dangerous opponent. But then she quickly shook her head. "No. Like you said, we ARE here as diplomats, and barging in at the head of an invading army will start things off on entirely the wrong note. That's probably what started this whole mess in the first place, knowing the Centaurs." Mentally, she commanded some of her sailbirds ahead, keeping them above the jungle and at the limits of her direct-control range. As aerial scouts, they were vastly inferior to Ori, but unlike him, they were highly expendable and hard to spot, so she could bring them in far closer than he'd dared venture. Next, she pulled from her saddlebags the trio of purpose-built jungle-scouts she'd crafted and given life on the Flower-Dragon island, and set them loose in the trees. Though less swift than the sailbirds, their ability to move unnoticed beneath the jungle canopy would make them priceless in this situation.

Then she nodded, and ordered a trio of Elite Beasts ahead to begin carving out a path through the undergrowth for her bulkier riding-beast with their razor-sharp steel tusks. As they began to slowly make their way inside the green embrace, heading towards the farms Ori had spotted, she smiled up at him. "Please, stay close. You know more about jungles than I could ever hope to, even if this isn't the one you were born in. If anything catches your attention, let me know immediately." The Flower-Dragon nodded, eager to demonstrate his worth - and by extension, the worth of his people - and began to leap from branch to branch as he traversed the canopy above her head. She wasn't just trying to bolster his ego, either - though her trio of scout-constructs were already ranging out in front of them, looking and listening, she was the one who had to interpret what they saw...

This tasking soon proved to have been a good call. The last jungle she'd been in, on the Flower-Dragon Island, had been artificially created by a Scion - the animals and plants carefully chosen to make it an ideal nesting-ground for his crowning creations, the aforementioned Flower-Dragons. There'd been no large predators there, save for the Flower-Dragons themselves. This jungle, however, was not such a neat garden, and its denizens were red in tooth and claw... and not too shy about trying to find out what their newest visitor tasted like. Fleet of foot and well camouflaged in the shadow-strewn underbrush, they slipped past her scouts all too easily. Ignoring the surrounding beasts, presumably due to being able to tell by scent that there was nothing edible about them, they aimed squarely for her and Lutra... only to be blindsided by Ori, whose part-vegetative, part-insectoid body blended into the jungle canopy even better than they, both visually and scent-wise.

Despite her gratitude at the protection he lent her, Sayn could not help but feel a bit shocked when the first large cat fell broken to the forest floor next to her. She'd known, of course, that they existed - dumb, feral cousins to the feline Beastkin Tribes. But she'd never actually seen one before - they were rare, and lived only in the depths of the wildlands that the Beastkin called home, an area that had been shrinking rapidly until her rise to power put a stop to the human incursions. Looking at one now, dead and broken at her feet, it was hard not to see the shade of some of the feline Beastkin she'd met - and loved. It was not a thought calculated to help keep her dark mood at bay.

Nonetheless, she had to remind herself, these weren't people. They were animals, predators, and would happily have killed and eaten both her and Lutra, if it hadn't been for Ori. And for that matter, they didn't look quite like any feline she was familiar with, having a pair of ferocious, oversized fangs poking out of their upper jaws like curved knives. Shuddering at the thought of how quickly she'd have bled out if those things sank into her body, she smiled and waved up at her Flower-Dragon protector, and tried her best to chase the dark thoughts away again. Fortunately, it didn't take very long for the local predators to take the hint and stop bothering the advancing group, so soon enough she managed to lose herself in the natural beauty that surrounded her.

The jungle was an orgy of life and color, filled with sweet-smelling flowers, eye-catching birds and small, fluffy rodents who jumped from branch to branch with just as much agility as Ori, while looking even more adorable. Riding in comfort on the well-insulated back of her golden steed, protected on all sides by her beasts and from above by the watchful Ori, she could enjoy the tour fully and without concern. Better yet, Lutra was soon awakened by the energetic caw-caws of the jungle birds, and after some stretching and complaining, joined her in watching the surroundings, eagerly pointing out the most eye-catching sights.

Soon, however, the mission reasserted itself, as the eyes of her scouts started to spot coordinated movement in the underbrush. Here and there, a flicker of smooth-scaled bodies could be spotted, moving swiftly and silently. Between the Centaurs' mention of reptilian warriors and the fact that there seemed to be several of them on both sides of her little caravan, moving parallel to their path rather than angling towards them, it seemed clear that she was being watched by the natives. One point of confusion, however, was the size - based on how well they blended into the undergrowth, they had to be rather diminutive, while the centaurs had spoken of creatures easily large enough to look them in the face. Even if men tended to exaggerate the size of their enemies, that was too much of a gap. Perhaps there were more than one tribe in this jungle?

Regardless, once she felt certain that they were not about to fall into an ambush, and had informed Ori to keep an eye out for small, skittering bodies in the undergrowth, she sent her scouts further ahead. So far, they had been proceeding roughly in the direction of the farms Ori had spotted from the air, but the jungle's environment didn't lend itself well to straight lines, so it seemed sensible to try and scout out a more accurate path. This, too, soon proved a good idea, when her scouts encountered an imposing wall, stretching through the jungle in an unbroken, snaking band. Using solid jungle-trees as fence-poles, barricades of squared-off logs had been stacked up higher than two men standing on each other's shoulders, and liberally festooned with sharpened sticks. A parapet, currently unoccupied, could be seen on the far side.

In truth, it would likely not have presented much of a barrier to a determined advance. No wooden structure could stand up to the steel fangs of her Elite Beasts - they could have carved a tunnel through the defensive line without slowing down, armored hides unmarred by the sharpened sticks. But this, again, would be a somewhat undiplomatic way to advance into somebody's territory, so while sending one of the scout-constructs - the third she had made, both faster and more stealthy than its younger siblings - across the wall to see what lay beyond, the other two were tasked with following the wall in both directions in search of a gate, gap, or other usable opening.

As the scouts worked, they continued, albeit at a measured pace - despite her conviction that their stealthy escort would have acted by now if they intended to do so at all, there was no point taking chances, especially since Ori hadn't had any more luck than her constructs in getting a clear look at them. They remained unmolested, however, and soon enough, Sayn was able to adjust their course towards a likely target. The scout she'd sent ranging west had found a gate - and a colossal one at that, scaled well beyond what humans would find reasonable. It was also open - and manned. Or rather, lizarded. Two sentinels could be seen, standing by the gateposts, and these rather resembled the description she had heard from the centaurs.

They were more than a head taller than even the biggest Centaurs, who themselves tended to tower over humans. Heavily-built and lizardlike, the similarities to the reptilian Gatorkin and Lizardkin of the Beastkin Tribes were obvious, but any relation was clearly remote. Not only were they far heavier, their body-shape was also far more bestial - rather than standing up straight, their bodies leaned at an angle, balanced and supported by a long, powerful tail, leaving their hands free to grasp primitive but brutal-looking weapons. She had no word for their armaments, really, for she knew of no equivalent on the northern continent - they were rather like long, heavy clubs, their heads studded with sharpened discs of stone, or possibly bone.

They were armored, too, and here she found more familiarity than she could have imagined. No metal were in appearance - most likely, these jungle-dwellers had not developed metalworking, being so isolated from significant deposits of ore - and the guards' armor was instead crafted from flexible, overlapping bands of lacquered wood. The braves of the grassland tribes, where she had been born and raised, used similar garments - with the right hardwoods and carefully-mixed lacquer, you could produce a lightweight, flexible suit of armor with no metal, no advanced tools, and very little money. A sensible solution here, too, considering the size of the wearers - even had it been available, the sheer weight of a metallic suit of armor for a being that large would have been untenable.

For all their size and armaments, however, they were obviously nervous - even knowing so little of their kind, she could tell that much from a glance. Their broad, reptilian faces - which terminated in strange, bird-like beaks - were turning here and there, staring into the surrounding jungle with flickering eyes, and they often shifted their grip on their weapons or moved their weight from one foot to another. A pathway led from the gate, where the passage of many no-doubt sizeable feet had stamped out the persistent undergrowth (though there was no wheel-ruts, as one would have expected in a human settlement), but notably, they weren't watching that at all. Clearly, they had received word of her coming from the diminutive scouts surrounding her advance, and weren't happy about it.

Nonetheless, it was an optimistic sight. They knew she was coming, but the gate remained open. As diplomatic overtures went, that was a pretty clear one, bypassing any linguistic barriers. The gate was guarded, sure, by giant, heavily-armed and armored sentinels, but it wasn't closed. So while they might be worried about her - and about the newcomers on the plains to the north - they didn't outright consider her an enemy. They were willing to talk. This impression was reinforced when she sent the scout over the wall, and spotted another reptilian sitting nervously in a large gatehouse. Well, large by HUMAN standards - not so much by the standards of the locals.

He was visibly different from the sentinels, with a smaller, less muscular body, and a rather eye-catching head - the face was almost duck-like, but a brightly-colored crest went up the middle of it, from the nose to the top of the head - and then continued beyond it, longer again than the entire head before then. Was it even natural, or maybe some kind of strange hat? He (or she?) wasn't wearing armor or carrying a weapon - instead, he was dressed in rough but richly-dyed fabrics that covered all but the tail. It seemed a good bet that this was a diplomat, scholar or similar, nervously waiting to 'welcome' the approaching visitor. The translator-amulet would probably come as a huge relief to someone who was readying himself to try and make himself understood to strange, alien invaders through improvised sign-language - assuming, of course, that it worked as advertised.

Having made these uplifting observations - and checked that there was no ambush-force waiting just inside the gate - she sent both of the two remaining scout further inside the lands beyond the wall, chasing after the first one. The scout she originally sent south when they hit the wall had, meanwhile, been forced to slow down significantly when it hit the clear-cut area that Ori had spotted from the air - it was thoroughly designed with the jungle in mind, and once the trees were replaced with vast, muddy fields, it suddenly couldn't move very quickly, especially if it needed to still stay hidden. Still, by the time the gate came into view, the three scouts acting together had managed to give her a somewhat better idea of these strange lizard-people's society.

The fields were extensive and planted with strange-looking crops. Hundreds of lizards toiled in the fields, and she spotted at least half a dozen different variations - mostly similar to those she'd already seen, but with various noticeable details being different. Of course, sometimes it was more than details. One revelation was that the gargantuan beasts that Ori had first spotted weren't dumb beasts of burden. The translation-amulet she wore couldn't extend its magic through her scouts, so she couldn't understand the sing-song language that the farmers were shouting to one another as they labored - but it was nonetheless clear that the towering creatures, big as houses and with necks so long that they could've easily looked through the parapets of a castle tower, were responding to shouted commands rather than a handler's whip, and occasionally talked back in the same language. Their assistance was certainly making the fields run more efficiently than any she'd seen back home - they easily dragged colossal plows wide enough to work an entire field in a single pass, and lifted large bales of crops from fields to paths with head-harnesses, saving enormous amounts of time and work for the smaller lizards who were doing the actual harvesting and planting.

The output of those fields had to be staggering, especially considering the warm-and-sunny conditions that persisted here year-round. Of course, feeding those titans probably TOOK an awful lot of food, as well. Regardless, it all seemed like a society she'd be able to work with - peaceful farmers, even if they clearly were both willing and able to protect their home from incursions. Also: Incapable or unaware of metalworking! That was a powerful bargaining-chip, to say the least. Proper metal plow-shears and harvest-scythes would certainly boost their productivity beyond the primitive constructs of wood and stone they were currently using, and that had to be of significant interest to them. Enough that they'd likely be able to sell some of the much-needed hardwood from their forests in return! Nothing promoted peaceful coexistence like mutually-beneficial trade, after all - the southern city-states had proved that abundantly back home.

She let the scouts continue stealthily ahead, deeper into the native's land, but shifted her attention mainly back to her body as they approached the gate. Lutra was holding tightly on to her from behind, both to stop her from falling off her steed while her mind was elsewhere, and possibly for comfort. The gate looked even more imposing in person than it had through the eyes of her diminutive scouts - she was used to things looking big from their perspective, but this was something else. Clearly, the gates had been built to allow even the colossi she saw back in the farms to pass, if needs be. And then there were the guards - they stood up straighter as her group approached, and even on the back of her huge riding-beast, they towered over her, leaving her basically face-to-armored-chest with them. Her vaunted Elite Beasts, meanwhile, were literally staring them straight in the ankles.

Nonetheless, they looked nervous, and so did the presumed-diplomat who now emerged from the gatehouse beyond the wall, resplendent in his colorful robes. She stopped her riding-beast before the gate, touching her amulet to reassure herself, and let her Elite Beasts (all covered in plant-fragments after carving a path for her, and thus failing to look suitably parade-ground spic-and-span) range out on both sides of her in a broad V-formation. Ori was up in the tree-crowns, blending in - but ready to leap out and pull her safely up into the air if a speedy retreat was needed.

The guards, however, remained where they were, clutching their strange weapons for comfort, while the colorfully-dressed lizard approached hesitantly, spreading his empty hands to show he was unarmed. She slowly walked her riding-beast towards him while leaving her Elite Beasts where they stood. His feet seemed to shift, like he wanted to take a step back but refused to. Was she really that scary, or were these people just of a particularly nervous disposition? Maybe a bit of both. Either way, she should probably save the poor chap from the misery of trying to figure out how to communicate across the language-barrier... and give the translator-amulet a try.

Touching the amulet, hoping it was working, she raised her voice. "Greetings and well met. I am Sayn, Empress of the Northern Continent. I come in peace, to discuss trade and the exchange of ideas." The gaudily-clad lizard - who stood just as tall as the guards, and perhaps even a bit higher what with the huge, curved crest emerging from the top of his skull (which she'd determined, after seeing it in person, WAS part of his head, and not just some fancy adornment) boggled at her for a minute, and she was just starting to fear that the amulet wasn't working after all, when he hesitantly spoke up in a surprisingly high-pitched voice for such a large creature. "You... speak our language? I had been made to understand... no, no matter. Ahem! I, um, welcome you, Great Chief Sayn, and eagerly return your message of peace and trade! I am Walker of the Great Crest Tribe, Arbiter and Speaker for Chief Maastrich of the Mighty Shield Tribe, who leads the Muhuru-Ngoubou - blessed be his name."

Sayn nodded, trying to keep up with the words and not get too distracted by the fact that what she was hearing in no way matched up with the movements of Walker's duckbill-like mouth. From the sounds of it, the amulet was working well, if not without some foreseeable issues. Presumably, these people didn't have a concept of 'Empress', or Emperor for that matter, so it had come across as 'Great Chief' instead - and at the same time, the name of their society was left untranslated in _his_speech due to a lack of anything to translate it INTO. Not a big deal, since the basic implications got across, but enough to make her worry about other potential miscommunications. Well, maybe if she learned more about their society, she'd be able to spot such issues in advance... either way, it was a lot better than trying to communicate with gestures!

"Perhaps I could meet Chief Maastrich, and we could discuss a mutually-beneficial future for our tribes?" she ventured, and Walker quickly bobbed his head - which belatedly struck her as peculiar. A different language, but the basic gestures were the same? Hmm. "Oh, certainly. Indeed, my orders were to arrange such a meeting, should your intentions prove... peaceful." He gestured towards the gate. "Please, follow me, and I shall guide you to the palace!" Based on the construction she had seen so far, she wondered if 'Palace' wasn't just the amulet's attempt to translate some local word for 'big hut the chief lives in', but then again, the Flower-Dragons had surprised and astounded her on that count! Reminded of her escort by that thought, she gestured for Ori to descend from the trees and walk beside her riding-beast, while simultaneously ordering her Elite Beasts to line up beside the path where they'd be out of the way until she returned.

Walker, however, looked confused as the steel-clad constructs stepped aside instead of following her. "You do not intend to bring your soldiers?" he queried. "We would not take offense thereby, and quartering them would be no trouble - there is no need for them to camp in the wilderness." This made Sayn confused in turn, before the numbers added up in her head. All these different lizards lived and worked alongside one another, some of them very different - presumably, these were the 'Tribes' Walker had mentioned - so naturally, they'd assume that her various, crafted beasts were just more 'Tribes'. "They are not soldiers." She quickly reassured him. "They are... constructs. Built from dead matter, and animated by my will. They require neither sleep, nor shelter, nor food, and will never act without my orders. So do not concern yourself with them. My riding-beast is the same."

Walker's reptilian eyes widened at this, and she tried not to smile too broadly. Sure, she was here on a peaceful mission, but it never hurt to make it clear to her hosts that she was not to be messed with. "Power of the Gods..." she heard him mumble under his breath, but - not wanting to embarrass the poor chap - she pretended she hadn't. The guards reacted noticeably too, pulling away from her and clutching their weapons close to their bodies, their chitinous beaks moving soundlessly. Prayers to their own gods? Superstitious wards against evil forces? Probably one or both. Well, that was fine - she wasn't traveling alone, after all, and Elite Beasts or no Elite Beasts, they'd be badly overwhelmed if all of these towering creatures turned on them while within their own territory. For the sake of Lutra and Ori, as well as her own life, instilling some fear and respect was prudent.

They followed Walker unto the broad avenue that led through the gate and beyond, Ori walking alertly by her side, while Lutra looked around with undisguised curiosity. As soon as they had passed, the two sentinels closed the gate - which proved to be just as heavily-studded with spiky logs as the main wall - behind them. The fact that they were able to do so, considering the gate's immense size and primitive construction, showcased that they were just as strong as their size would suggest, if not stronger. Having done so, they visibly relaxed, making her wonder what the wall had been built to protect them FROM in the first place - after all, it clearly wasn't there just to get in her way - and also made her feel a bit nervous herself. Her Elite Beasts could tear through the wall OR the gate if she called, but not quickly, and while Ori could perhaps lift her over, he couldn't carry her AND Lutra, and... gah! She needed to stop being so paranoid. Everything she'd seen of these lizards suggested that they were peaceful, friendly farmers, and that the initial conflict with the Centaurs had just been a big misunderstanding.

Walker, however, had apparently noticed her glance, and quickly dipped his head to be at eye-level with her. "Please, do not be concerned, Great Chief. The gates are not closed to bar your way - if you desire to leave, the Sharp-Thumb Sentinels will of course open them again. We simply need to maintain our defenses at all time... as Chief Maastrich will explain to you, in due time." She nodded in reply, glad that she'd already determined this gesture was seemingly-universal (and idly wondering if shaking your head worked here too.) Following this, they walked for some minutes through what would have been some tremendously boring farmland, were it not for the sight of the farmers who labored away in those fields, mostly ignoring the alien visitors in their eagerness to get the harvest in and plant the next round of crops with as little wasted time as possible. Sayn had, of course, already gotten a decent look at the reptilian farmers, but Lutra's head was rotating so rapidly to take it all in that she worried it might fall off.

After a bit, Walker broke the silence again. "Ah... perhaps, Great Chief, you would introduce me to your companions? I assume they are not... constructs, as you mentioned. Ideally, I should be able to introduce them when we enter the palace..." She smiled up at him, hoping that this, too, would be a recognizable gesture. "Ah yes, of course - pardon my rudeness! Riding behind me is Lutra, of the Otter-Tribe - my handmaiden and attendant. Beside me is Orichaniel of the Flower-Dragon Tribe, whose people only just recently joined my Empire - now acting as a scout and bodyguard for me. We mostly just call him Ori." The two of them nodded when she mentioned their names. Due to not having an amulet like hers, they couldn't understand Walker's words, but her side of the conversation was still perfectly normal in their ears. He bobbed his head politely towards them both, and then hesitantly spoke up again. "Um... you did not mention what Tribe you belong to yourself, Great Chief Sayn."

She shrugged, pondering the best way to approach this. "I suppose I did not. It is not a simple matter. In one sense, I could say that I am Sayn of the Human-Tribe, but that might give the mistaken impression that all humans are similar to me, which would be rather inaccurate. There is a great number of humans where I come from - divided between hundreds of tribes. In THAT sense, I could say that I am Sayn of the Great Plains Nomad Tribes... but seeing as I was exiled from there many years ago, that would be as incorrect as it is meaningless to you." Walker nodded, looking a bit lost, and she wondered how many translation-errors were getting slipped into such human-society-centric sentences.

"And finally..." she continued "I'm sure you're wondering about my power. My ability to create these... constructs." She patted the golden riding-beast between her legs. "Well, you should know that not all humans can do this. In fact, I'm the only one. It is why I am the Great Chief, and why some choose to worship me as a Goddess, for all that I have never claimed to be one. Why I am capable of this is a question none know the answer to. So in the end, the most correct answer would be that I have no Tribe - or perhaps, seeing as there is only one of me, I should simply call myself the sole member of the Beastmaker-Tribe!"

Walked nodded and, seemingly trying to digest that information, remained silent for a while thereafter, as they continued their march through the extensive farmland. She was actually catching up to her advance scouts, now, but they were still a bit ahead, and had started spotting some buildings. The construction was surprisingly complex and sturdy-looking for being entirely made from vegetative materials - wood, thatch and woven rope. Still looked pretty shoddy compared to human buildings, but in all honesty, she doubted that her fellow men could've done much better if limited to those materials. Or, indeed,as well - especially considering the SCALE of the buildings.

Well, most of the buildings, anyway. Outside the farmland, her scouts were starting to see smaller lizards more often - creatures closer in size to the stealthy escort that had shadowed her through the jungle. There were even a few that were fairly close to human-sized - but all in all, these more diminutive 'tribes' were in a minority, with most of the creatures she saw being closer to the size of Walker and the gate's sentinels - that is, more than capable of staring a grown man in the face while down on all fours, and easily towering twice as high or better when lifting themselves up on their hind legs to use their hands. And the majority of the buildings, thus, were scaled accordingly - including the simple storehouses that the harvested crops were being carried to by small convoys of huge, four-legged lizards whose backs were lined with broad, pointy bone-plates that provided a convenient anchoring-point for the hefty bales they carried.

It really was a dizzying variety of creatures, albeit all built along similarly reptilian lines. Some were fully quadruped, others were biped, and others again seemed capable of switching from one to the other as needed. The later two categories wore clothes, albeit generally less colorful than her guide's, while the former were, invariably, naked. So many 'Tribes', living and working together in peace, so many... huge, powerful, muscular creatures. Sayn found herself growing painfully curious about what the sexual mores of the Muhuru-Ngoubou looked like. She'd seen no sign of the kind of sexual openness the Flower-Dragons had displayed, suggesting something more like the traditional, human attitude towards sex - that is, the way it HAD been, before she'd kickstarted a bit of a sexual revolution. Or maybe they had rutting-periods like many animals did, and the whole place turned into a huge sex-party for half a month each year, and she'd just not happened to arrive at that particular time? Who knew - it wasn't really something she could easily ask her guide about, especially if they DID have some kind of strong, social taboos about sexuality...

Well, in the interest of avoiding a social faux-pas, and certainly not because of her personal interest in - or, if one was to mince words, fetish for - large, powerful creatures, she needed to get some idea of how the natives approached sexuality. Two of her scouts, slightly more flexible in their construction than the heavily jungle-specialized third, had reached some decent population-centers, and were blending in with the wooden buildings almost as well as they had in the jungle proper. Since Walker had gone silent and the road didn't need much thought, she let her mind flow into them, directing them with more care - Lutra would be able to tell what she was doing, and would snap her out of it with a sharp pinch if her attention was required back at her body.

One thing she felt fairly confident was a universal constant in the field of sexuality was that young people never could get enough of it. Vitality of youth, overflowing juices, all that stuff. So she looked around for any lizards who looked a bit smaller and more energetic than the other members of their Tribe - not the outright children (or 'hatchlings', maybe? One of her scouts had peeked in a window to find a well-insulated nest filled with half a dozen extremely large eggs, suggesting that these creatures, like most reptiles, laid eggs) but the adolescents, the teenagers. Then, they looked for any such specimen that seemed to be highly interest in another such specimen. And after a few false starts, one of the scouts got a bite...

It was one of the kind whose spines were lined with roughly diamond-shaped bone-plates... perhaps their tribe was called 'Pointy-Back' or something, based on what she'd heard so far, but she just didn't know. Regardless, this one was a bit smaller than the ones she'd seen schlepping crops from the fields, and seemed to be filled with nervous energy. A bit surprisingly, the subject of his attention wasn't another 'Pointy-Back' type - but a different sort. Four-legged too, but without the bone-adornments on the back - instead, the most notable feature was the parrot-like beak, and a broad, almost mane-like frill at the back of the skull, covering the neck completely. Nubs along the edge suggested that a more fully-grown specimen (or perhaps a more male one?) would have spikes along there, providing a nice bit of protection for a sensitive area.

She couldn't understand what went between the two of them as they chatted by the side of the road, of course - but the way they were acting convinced her that her initial guess was on the money: The pointy-back was a young male, and the... broad-frill? Yeah, might as well go with that. The broad-frill was a young female, and was acting adorably coquettish for such a huge, thick-skinned beast. Whatever reptilian pick-up lines the pointy-back was rolling out, though, were apparently working - and after a short time, the two of them walked away together, with her voyeuristic scout in close but careful pursuit.

Their destination proved to be one of a row of smallish huts, which she had initially designated as probably storage-spaces, due to their lack of windows. A closer examination - motivated by the two youngsters entering the hut and closing a rough, but effective door in her scout's face, revealed a single other entrance - a hole in the top that functioned as a chimney, and which her scout quickly made its way in through, clinging to the inside of the thatched ceiling as it watched the pointy-back breathe life into a centrally-placed fireplace by scraping up some embers with a foot, piling some wood from a nearby stack onto it with his mouth, and then blowing fiercely on it. Other than the fireplace, the hut was featureless - its floor strewn with fresh hay, but lacking any furniture or adornments.

The fireplace threw a ruddy glow over the windowless interior, however, and provided the broad-frill (who probably outweighed a centaur stallion by a generous margin) with a surprisingly erotic aspect as she turned her back to the pointy-back and lifted her tail. The pointy-back didn't waste any time accepting that invitation, and showcased remarkable agility for a creature his size as he jumped on her back. Confident that the two would be too focused on each other to notice, Sayn steered the scout down the wall, towards the hay-strewn floor, for a better look.

She wasn't disappointed. The young pointy-back's tool was out, hard, and hanging heavily between his legs, swinging wildly as he somewhat-awkwardly adjusted his stance. Thick at the base, curving and tapering slightly towards the head, which was both bulbous and strangely flat - as it it had been squeezed up against the shaft itself. On the bottom-side, not far from the head, a trio of thick, bumpy ridges could be seen, split down the middle by the main ridge going up the underside - and it was, in general, creasy, veiny, and deliciously textured. It was hard to judge, what with the size of both participants, but it had to be bigger than what most centaurs were packing, for all that it looked smaller in terms of body-size comparison.

A moment later, the pointy-back found his mark, despite initial awkwardness. In the poor lighting, and considering the unfamiliar physiologies involved, she couldn't tell which hole he'd actually hit - but whichever it was, the broad-frill seemed to enjoy it. Sayn needed no translation to recognize the moans and pants of eager lovers, nor any help interpreting the way the broad-frill shuddered and lowered her head as the pointy-back started thrusting with virile eagerness. She could only hope that her body, back on the riding-beast's back, wasn't showing any too-obvious signs of her own mounting arousal. It wasn't that she was a voyeur - much! - but rather that she couldn't help putting herself in the broad-frill's place. Such a huge, powerful beast, with such a huge, interestingly-shaped cock... and it might not have to stay at the fantasy, either, since they clearly didn't mind screwing outside their 'tribes'!

Worried that her body would soon start blushing, panting, and/or gushing in a way that might draw Walker's attention and make him ask uncomfortable questions, she tried to take a step back and ask herself what she'd learned so far. Well, she'd learned that intercourse between members of different tribes was fairly normal, but kept strictly out of the public eye, to the point where special, windowless fuck-huts had been set aside for that express purpose. That was pretty much all she could really say, based on a single case - and even _that_involved a bit of guesswork and some assumptions. But some of those assumptions, at least, were easily tested.

Leaving the two lovebirds to their moaning and mating, she climbed the scout back up the wall, along the ceiling, and out through the chimney-hole. Then she did a quick survey of the other, similar huts - and spotted thin bands of smoke emerging from the chimneys of three of them, suggesting that they were likely occupied. A few moments later, her scout was climbing down into the nearest, and sure enough, found another couple in an intimate embrace. This time, she actually recognized both tribes involved - a female of the Great Crest tribe, same as walker, were on her back with her legs in the air, a colorful robe carelessly discarded in the straws nearby. On top of her were a heavyset Sharp-Thumb male, whose far more rough-looking smock was similarly discarded, drilling into her with his colossal weight. Her moans were incredibly sonorous and melodic, and seemed to be spurring the Sharp-Thumb on as he gruntingly pounded her in something loosely resembling the classic 'missionary' position.

As she watched, he craned his neck backwards and cried something that probably translated approximately into "I'm cumming!", as he stopped thrusting and instead just shuddered in place. She answered in kind, bucking underneath him. As soon as he was done shooting his seed inside her, though, he pushed himself off, and lumbered around to present his dripping-wet tool (which looked quite different from what the pointy-back had been packing - long, straight, and almost equine in its simplicity, but with a rounder, more mushroom-shaped head and some interesting creases and bulges near the base) to her head. Her duck-like bill opened without apparent reluctance, letting him thrust deep into her throat as a large, triangular tongue visibly began to clean him off. So, she could now conclude that the natives were familiar with oral sex, too! She was learning a lot! Also, those long, curved crests apparently made for great hand-holds, for suitably-sized partners.

Needing to cool off, she quickly moved on to the next occupied hut, where the 'they know oral sex' conclusion was further reinforced. In the previous two huts, the occupants had been of different tribes, but essentially the same overall size. Not so this time - the male here was a spindly sort of lizard with no distinctive features she could use to give him a makeshift name, not much bigger than Ori in overall size. His partner, meanwhile, seemed to be from a tribe similar to the Great Crest - same basic body-type, same duck-like bill, but a rather different crest. Instead of a long tube going back, it was a big, circular thing on top of the head. Circle-Crest Tribe, maybe? But, more importantly, she was the same size, ensuring that she towered over her lover. Whether he'd be able to mount her at all remained an open question - at the moment, she was bent over him as he lay back on the straw, fellating him with eager energy. Based on the noises he was making and the way he was throwing his head around, she was quite good at it.

Moving swiftly on to the final hut, she found an even greater mismatch. One of the residents, she felt certain, was from the same tribe as the tiny, swift-footed lizards who'd shadowed her in the jungle - barely the size of a dog. The other party, meanwhile, seemed to be of a tribe close to the Sharp-Thumbs who'd guarded the gate... but even bigger and burlier. And that was the male. He was sitting back in the straw, erect cock pointing towards the ceiling as his tiny lover swarmed over it, kissing and rubbing it with her body. His cock probably out-massed her entire body, but she wasn't letting that deter her, and Sayn found herself briefly flashing back to her own experience with the Leviathan - but actually, considering how relatively tiny that sea-serpents tool had been, compared to his enormous body, this tiny lizard-lady had a bigger job cut out for her! And judging by how her oversized beau was moaning and digging his hands into the surrounding straw, she was more than up for it...

Feeling increasingly hot under the collar, she quickly directed the scout back out of the hut and away from the area, on the lookout for some less... erotic information. Returning her mind to her body, she found that it was probably good she hasn't delayed any longer - she was breathing heavily and her face was flush, though Walker did not appear to have noticed. Well, he probably wouldn't recognize what blushing meant, all things considered, so there was that. But any longer, and he might have noticed a wet patch on the crotch of her fancy, expensive pants, and she was pretty sure that would be a recognizable sign even to them.

She tried to compose herself as the summed up her experiences in her head. The natives apparently had no compunctions about inter-tribal sex, were comfortable with variants beyond the obvious dick-in-pussy style, and were unconcerned with even extreme size-differences. However, they DID seem to consider sexuality something to be kept out of sight, to at least as strong a degree as most humans did. In fact, now that she thought about it, her scouts hadn't spotted anything she could recognize as a public display of affection - kissing or nose-rubbing or... well, most of them weren't really built for hugging, but still! Unless they had something similar that she just wasn't recognizing, it seemed like they had some very strong privacy-taboos indeed.

So... if she wanted to try one of these big beasties out for size (and she most certainly did), the possibility was there - but she had to broach the subject carefully and privately. Oh, and she'd best make sure to remember that finding a local lover was strictly a secondary objective, and that it shouldn't get in the way of the whole peace-trade-and-diplomacy deal. Straightening her suit - a practical but well-made and heavily-decorated set of traveling-clothes that she'd had made especially to be able to survive travel in wild regions and still look suitably spectacular when she arrived - she hummed under her breath and began to seriously plot how she'd approach the negotiations with this Chief Maastrich, the dark thoughts and concerns that had haunted her on the way all but forgotten.

The 'palace' turned out to be pretty much what she'd expected - a large, fancy hut. Parking her golden steed outside, she stepped inside to meet the leader of these strange natives. She wasn't sure exactly what she'd expected this Chief to be, considering that he was apparently of the 'Mighty Shield' Tribe, but what he turned out to be was a huge, turtle-like quadruped. His broad, leathery back was covered in bony protrusions - like a natural suit of studded leather armor - and around the edge of his shield, the bony lumps turned into outright spikes. Rather than the tiny, triangular tail she'd expect to see on a turtle, though, he had a long, thick tail that terminated in a huge, hammer-like lump that looked like it could deliver bone-breaking force with ease. Like all the quadrupeds she'd seen, he was undressed - but he WAS wearing a rather elaborate headdress, presumably marking him as the Chief.

He was clearly just as surprised as Walker had been to learn that she was capable of speaking and understanding their language, but recovered his composure fare quicker and smoother - a consummate politician, from the looks of it, and his deep and rumbling voice also bore the marks of someone accustomed to public speaking. "I welcome you to my hut, Great Chief Sayn, and proudly extend the hospitality of the Muhuru-Ngoubou to you and yours." He nodded towards a round, flat table surrounded by a variety of colorful throw-pillows, presumably in order to accommodate as broad a variety of the natives as possible. She sat down - flanked by Lutra and Ori, who'd be doing their best to look invested even through they'd only be able to understand half the conversation - and got down to brass tacks.

Chief Maastrich was as eager for trade as she could have hoped, especially when she'd told him of metalworking and shown him a simple, metal knife for demonstration. Once she broached the issue of past confrontations with the Centaurs, however, his answer raised the stakes. "We are aware of the Centaur-Tribe, if that is what they are called, settling out on the plains and foraging in our jungle, yes... but we have never attacked them, nor fought them in any other way." He was quite definitive about this, and when she pressed him, mentioning clear accounts from surviving Centaurs of being assaulted by 'large, lizard-like creatures', he merely nodded glumly. "I have no doubt those accounts are true... the Sharptooth Tribes are responsible, of that you may be certain."

Querying about the 'Sharptooth Tribes', she immediately got an earful. As Maastrich explained it, 'Muhuru-Ngoubou' wasn't the term for their entire, reptilian kind, but only for the alliance of tribes he led. Rather, they referred to themselves as muš?uššu - another untranslatable word, that proved to be practically unpronounceable to her as well. Her best attempts came across as 'Sirrush', which Maastrich winced at slightly but seemed to understand. In ancient times, all of the Sirrush had been a single, united people, despite the fact that several of the tribes could not live on a plant-based diet, but required meat. They had usually managed to feed themselves by hunting in the jungle and on the plains beyond, but during a lean season, where everyone had been suffering from the effects of famine, these 'Sharptoothed' tribes had turned on their allies and begun to hunt and feed on those who could not defend themselves. This had led, somewhat predictably, to a major civil war, culminating in the victory of one of Maastrich's predecessors, who had managed to force the Sharptooth Tribes to retreat from the ancestral lands of the Sirrush and established the Muhuru-Ngoubou as a new, vegetarian union.

Ever since then, however, the outcast Sharptooth Tribes had been a constant threat, preying on any isolated Sirrush they could find, and sometimes launching outright raids into the heartlands, dragging away those who fell to their fangs and claws to be devoured, plundering nests and stealing away the eggs, and all that sort of viciousness. It was Maastrich himself who, at the start of his reign, had taken the initiative to construct the Great Wall all around their territory, and while it hadn't prevented occasional incursions and attacks from the smaller foes who always somehow managed to sneak inside, it had effectively put an end to the major raids - a fact that Maastrich clearly was quite proud of.

"So you see..." he continued, shaking his head sadly, "While I'D be delighted to join with you in trade and mutual prosperity, the barbaric Sharptooth Tribes are another matter. To them, you and your subjects are nothing but meat, I fear. Even if you could manage to establish a treaty with them, they'd break it as soon as they go hungry - history shows as much!" And yet, something about his explanation set off alarm-bells in Sayn's head. Maybe it was just that he reminded her a bit too much of some of the slick courtiers and career politicians she knew back home, albeit transposed into the body of a giant, heavily-armored tortoise. Cautiously, she asked if he might have any ideas about dealing with the issue? Of course, he had.

"It has given me many sleepless nights!" he melodramatically confessed. "The Wall, which I poured my life and energy into, has made things better, certainly, but STILL our vicious neighbors manage to sneak across our borders, to kill and steal without reserve. Clearly, no purely defensive strategy will suffice. The only way we shall ever truly be rid of their predation is if we wipe them out altogether! In fact, I have already started initiatives to bring this about, training more craftsmen and gathering more resources for producing weapons and armor, as well as encouraging breeding in the Tribes best suited for combat. It is a long-term plan, one I had expected that my son would see completed one day - but perhaps, with your help, I could see my people safe and sound within my own lifetime!"

It all sounded suspiciously neat and clear-cut. On the other hand, she was very much a stranger here, and had very little to go on - maybe it really WAS that simple? Certainly, everything she AND her scouts had seen suggested that these people were of a peaceful temperament, and they hadn't built that huge wall just for the fun of it. She needed more data, more knowledge, before she could make an informed decision. "An intriguing notion..." she allowed, doing her best to look thoughtful and hoping her expressions came across the species-barrier. "But not a decision that can be made easily. I have fought wars before, and I will not lightly throw my empire into another. Allow me some time to ponder the situation. In the meantime, I would enjoy learning more of your ways and culture, and see how the tribes of the Muhuru-Ngoubou lives!"

If Chief Maastrich was disappointed that she didn't immediately agree to his plan, he hid it well - and he eagerly agreed that it would be a fine idea indeed for her to learn more of the Muhuru-Ngoubou. "Allow me to introduce to you, my son. He will be happy to show you around whatever you would like to see, and answer any questions you may have." As he spoke, he swung his tail-knob to knock it against one of the flat bone-plates on his back, creating a loud, crisp noise. The internal doors in the 'palace' were just hanging curtains of dyed ropes weighted down by stones at the bottom, and one of these were now swept aside by a new arrival.

It wasn't another 'Mighty Shield Tribe' member, though, to Sayn's immediate surprise. Instead, it was another type of sturdy quadruped, towering to nearly twice her height, and similar to the frilled female that her scouts had observed with the 'pointy-back' male when they first spotted the fuck-huts. This one, though, was clearly male, and sported an impressive horn on his nose, as well as two big, curvy ones emerging from the base of the frill, reminiscent of a bull. He was introduced as Prorsus, of the Three-Horn Tribe. He seemed a polite, slightly withdrawn young fellow, but seemed to relax a bit once they'd been formally introduced and, more importantly, had left his father's presence. Leaving her golden riding-beast where it stood, she set out on a walk through the village alongside Prorsus and her two consorts...

Naturally, the first thing she asked him about was how, exactly, it was that he was the son of someone from the Mighty Shield Tribe. Could the tribes actually interbreed? "No, no, not at all... it is how leadership is passed down in the Muhuru-Ngoubou." he explained, clearly eager to fulfill his role. "The Chief must never father children, lest his loyalties be divided between his children of blood, and his far more numerous children of responsibility. Also, it presents the risk that his authority might be passed down to an unworthy successor purely because of blood-relations. Instead, the Chief adopts an heir from a Tribe whose traits fit what he believes to be the future of the Muhuru-Ngoubou." Maastrich's predecessor and adopted father had believed that a strong defense might keep the people safe, and thus had adopted a member of the Mighty Shield Tribe. Maastrich, meanwhile, was ready to go on the offense - and hence, had adopted Prorsus, whose Tribe were said to be the greatest and most fearsome warriors among the Muhuru-Ngoubou. "He's been grooming me to lead our armies in the field!" There was something off about the way Prorsus said it, though - he sounded proud, sure, as any youngster who's won the approval of his father... but also uncertain.

She filed this away for future reference, and continued to ask questions as Prorsus took her on a guided tour of Mokele, the Muhuru-Ngoubou's biggest village and effective capital - most of which she'd already seen through the eyes of her scouts. She learned that they maintained a sort-of Caste System - not that any Tribe was considered 'better' or 'higher' than another, but rather that each Tribe had its role, its duties which it was considered suited for. The Great Crest Tribe were messengers, speakers and arbiters, the Sharp-Thumb Tribe were builders and craftsmen, the Ridge-Back Tribe (whom she'd originally dubbed 'pointy-back') were carriers and transports, the Three-Horn Tribe were warriors and defenders, and so on. It seemed a somewhat restrictive system to Sayn, but perhaps it made sense with so many different creatures living so closely together...

As soon as they walked past the windowless huts she'd scouted earlier, she naturally made sure to ask what THEY were for, exactly? Surprisingly, though, Prorsus answered without a trace of embarrassment, and in fact sounded downright wistful. Furthermore, the amulet literally translated his answer as 'Sex-huts'. "They are for... youngsters." He explained. "Those who have yet to properly come of age, and are filled with overflowing passions and desires. The sex-huts provide a safe, out-of-the-way place for them to indulge those desires with members of other Tribes."

"ONLY with other Tribes?" She asked, digging for more information, and quickly getting it. "Oh, yes... sex between different Tribes is, after all, just a bit of childish, consequence-free fun. But between members of the SAME Tribe, well, that is a mating, which can and should result in eggs, and thus is a serious matter." The big Three-Horn shrugged his shoulders as their route took them away from the huts. "It is the nature of children to seek amusement, and wise adults guide them towards entertainment that teaches them useful skills. So it is that the silly dalliances these huts contain provide youngsters with experience that will stand them in good stead when they are grown up and ready for proper, serious relationships."

Considering the number of other 'Tribes' she 'mated' with on the regular, and how important those relationships were to her, that whole song sounded more than a bit discordant to her ears. And there were undertones in Prorsus' voice that seemed to suggest that he, himself, wasn't entirely in agreement with it either. "And what of you?" she asked. "Have you... 'come of age'?" This made him wince. "Technically, no... I have not undergone the ritual yet. The sex-huts are still, theoretically, open to me. But as the son of Chief Maastrich, I am far too busy studying and training for my role as the future Chief, to indulge in such... childish diversions." Ah, well, that explained a few things...

She allowed the subject to drop (for now), and instead started digging for an explanation as to their very existence - where had they come from? How long had they been living in this jungle? The answers had gaps, but still seemed to paint a recognizable picture. According to myths and stories passed down by elders, storytellers and ritualists, all of the Tribes had been created by a group of Gods, who also created the Jungle and the surrounding lands. After a while, however, the Gods had grown bored or disappointed with their creations - there were various stories about how and why it happened, with the most popular claiming that it was the civil war with the Sharptooth Tribes that did it - and disappeared towards the north.

Ever since, they had simply lived and survived in the jungle where they had first been created. Not that they hadn't sent out scouts, looking for more land, more room and space, but they were effectively fenced in. To the east was a vast, impassable mountain-range, to the south an endless field of ice and snow where none of their kind could survive for long (though it was, apparently, inhabited by several kinds of immense, thick-furred creatures), and the great plains to the north were filled with vicious monsters. To the west, however, the jungle continued - and it was in this direction that they had been steadily expanding during past centuries, carving new villages and fields out of the thick vegetation. This, however, was no longer an option, since their advance scouts and pioneers had finally found the ends of the jungle, during the reign of Maastrich's father. A broad, sandy beach with little to recommend it, and beyond, vast expanses of water, like an immeasurably large lake! (Or, more likely, the sea - something the jungle-bound Sirrush presumably hadn't encountered before then, with their unwillingness or inability to traverse the dangerous steppes to the north.)

So... an early experiment of the Gods, eventually abandoned (for whatever reason) in favor of the Northern Continent and the various people they'd there created. Presumably. There still seemed to be some gaps, and the lack of clarity concerning WHY the gods had left was bothersome, especially since the Gods had, eventually, disappeared from the north too - leaving no indication as to why. These people, though, didn't seem to be nearly as bothered about it as most of the northerners. When their Gods had disappeared, they'd just shrugged it off and carried on with their lives - a rather admirable attitude, or so it seemed to Sayn, anyway.

She found herself temporarily distracted from such philosophical matters, however, as their path took them through the outskirts of Mokele, where the titanic creatures she'd first observed assisting the farmers apparently dwelt. Immeasurably immense, they dwarfed even dragons in sheer size, reminding her of the Leviathan in terms of sheer scale - though built along far simpler lines, like a common lizard scaled up a million times over, tail and neck massively elongated, legs grown into pillars thick as ancient trees. Due to their sheer size, the weather apparently bothered them about as little as it bothered a mountain, so they had no need for houses or other buildings - fortunate indeed, considering the amount of resources that would be needed in order to built homes for such immense beings.

And yet, there WERE a couple of buildings there, if that was the right word. They were rather like pens - featuring walls, but no ceilings, and massive in height by most standard, though they only reached to about waist-height for the biggest of these titans. (Who were, according to Prorsus, the members of the Mountain-Step Tribe - a name they'd well earned, considering that she herself could just about reach their_ankles!_) The walls were solid, but seemed rather flimsy - more like a screen than anything designed to keep anyone in OR out - and the gates were so huge that only the giant Sirrush themselves could move them. They also, however, featured smaller doors more suited for the medium-sized Sirrush that seemed to make up most of the population. All of this combined to make Sayn intensely curious about their purpose.

When she asked Prorsus, he looked mildly embarrassed for the first time so far - but despite some reluctance, he explained the idea to her. "Building sex-huts spacious enough for members of the bigger tribes, like the Long-Neck, Heavy-Foot and Long-Tail Tribes - never mind the Mountain-Step Tribe! - just... isn't practical. But considering the incredible value of the labor their provide, leaving the younger ones without an outlet would be decidedly unfair. So those screens have to... suffice. They conceal the... taboo parts, at least." Of course, after hearing that, she had no choice but to point out that the screened enclosures weren't big enough for TWO of those titans - forcing him to provide more explanation despite his embarrassment.

"That is true, but... well, most of the larger tribes are so closely related that it's possible for them to interbreed - much like my my own tribe and the Spike-Frill Tribe, and a few others. So such interaction would be considered a proper Mating, regardless, and not a simple dalliance. Hence, in recognition of the invaluable contribution the larger tribes provide to the Muhuru-Ngoubou as a whole, teams of young volunteers from smaller tribes work together to... ease the pressure for any young members of the larger tribes who require it." This revelation made Sayn glance up at the one occupied pen with renewed interest. She wasn't sure which tribe the resident was from - they_all_ looked pretty long-necked, long tailed and heavy-footed to her, though she was pretty sure it at least wasn't a Mountain-Step - and nor could she tell if it was male or female. Most of its body was covered by the screens, but she could still see the curve of its back, the tip of its tail - which was dancing around quite a bit - and most of its neck and head. And now that she looked more closely, it appeared to be panting quite a bit, and grinning to boot.

Not wanting to embarrass her guide further, however, she pretended to lose interest now that she had a thorough explanation, and turned her head away to ask him a question about their internal trade and monetary system that predictably launched him into a lengthy (and rather boring) explanation. Meanwhile, she reactivated her closest scout. The three tiny constructs had been lying dormant since she arrived in Mokele, since she hadn't wanted to divide her attention - blending into the wooden structures and well-tended fields with ease. The closest to her current position was the first she'd made - a simple construct resembling a cross between a tarantula and a small monkey. In the jungle, it lost out to the speed and camouflage of its younger siblings - but here, its flexibility made it the best of the lot, and she quickly directed it to make its way to the tall screen-walls and silently climb them.

Listening with half an ear to Prorsus' explanation (apparently, they DID have a simple form of currency, but it was mainly only used in trade between villages, while internal trade largely took the form of a sort of fusion between bartering and mutual charity), she eagerly looked through the eyes of her scout as it clambered down the inside of the screen, bringing the goings-on below the massive creature's body into view. It was immediately clear, at that point, that the enormous Sirrush was male. The size of his tool would have shamed the Leviathan, who was, after all, not terribly well-hung for his size. This dangling monstrosity, meanwhile, was fully in proportion to its colossal owner.

The shape was rather simple, at least compared to the other Sirrush she had spied on with her scouts. Rather reminiscent of a Centaur's equine cock, actually - a long, straight, thick shaft terminated in a slightly-domed, flared head with a distinct ridge around the crown. There were differences, though - for starters, the lower half of it seemed cloaked in thicker skin that hung somewhat loosely around it, creating a rippling pattern around the bottom and sides, kind of like a secondary sheath. The rest of the shaft, meanwhile, had a pattern of slight bulges along it, suggesting the presence of several, independently-partitioned chambers keeping the immense tool turgid. Above the crown ridge, a second ridge could be seen - and beyond it, the bright-red tip featuring a urethra she probably could've gotten her whole arm inside with ease. This tip seemed far more thin-skinned and sensitive than the rest, and combined with the secondary sheath hanging around the lower half of the shaft, it gave the overall impression of an onion-like arrangement of multilayered protection for the otherwise-sensitive limb.

It was hard to get a really clear look at it, though, what with the five smaller Sirrush who were clustered around it. They were all significantly bigger than her - or, indeed, any man - but they looked tiny next to the colossus they were currently working together to pleasure. They all seemed to be from different tribes, albeit not that dissimilar. All were of the bipedal sort, with functional hands - probably not a coincidence, since the quadrupeds would've been hard-pressed to do anything useful in that scrum. All seemed to be female, and they were showing off impressive teamwork as they provided the gigantic Sirrush with a cooperative handjob. Four of them were standing beside the shaft, two on each side, rubbing and massaging it with their hands, faces and bodies. The fifth was standing in front of it, in what seemed to Sayn to be a rather dangerous zone, gently rubbing the more sensitive-looking head. She was one of the sort with a ducklike bill, the rounded edges of which she was using to massage the very tip of huge tool, even as her long, dexterous tongue danced around it, occasionally poking into the no-doubt-sensitive urethra.

In a strange way, it almost didn't seem like an erotic sight - the sheer scale meant that it somehow looked more like some kind of religious ritual, built around a great, dick-shaped altar. The recipient certainly seemed to be enjoying himself, though, and the immense pillar regularly jumped and throbbed with desire. It was hard to tell if the girls were enjoying themselves, meanwhile - she still hadn't quite figured out the Sirrush's body-language, which wasn't made simpler by the broad variety of body-types on display. Were they really just acting out of duty, as a kind of charity-work? It seemed entirely probably - at least, until their huge partner reached his thunderous climax.

She heard his orgasmic braying simultaneously through her scout's ears, and her own, more distant pair - an odd sensation. A blast of thick, white goo emerged from the tip of his colossal penis with enough force to bowl over the female Sirrush who had been standing there, licking and rubbing the sensitive tip. She was left utterly plastered with hot cum, her face and upper body dripping with it - but even as she lay in the dust, her long, flexible tongue started scooping up the layer covering her face and bill. At the same time, the four others abandoned their station at the sides of the monstrous, still-throbbing cock, and descended hungrily on their fallen sister. Three of them started licking the cum off her chest, while the last ducked between her legs. Their hands were everywhere, rubbing the slimy cum into each other's skin, or reaching between the legs of others to thrust or rub. It was like a cum-wrestling orgy unfolding in the shadow of the panting, clearly-satisfied titan.

It seemed fairly clear at that point that the girls enjoyed their 'volunteer work' immensely - for the sake of each other's company if nothing else. It was also the first sign of homosexuality she'd spotted - a bit of a relief. The way it carefully hadn't been mentioned as a possible form of consequence-free 'dalliance' alongside inter-tribal sex had made her worry that they had some kind of severely homophobic taboos. Instead, it seemed like the truth was closer to a "Don't ask, don't tell" affairs. Were female specimens serviced by teams of young males who took the opportunity to explore each other's bodies after the act, skin soaked from a deluge of pussy-juice? It seemed entirely possible at this point...

Regardless, she had to pull her scout - and her attention - away at that point. Despite the rather alien bodies involved (the complete absence of tits really seemed to sap some of the fun out of a lesbian orgy, in her opinion), the scene was just altogether too steamy for her to endure without visible signs of arousal on her body, and she had no more desire to try and explain the reason for a suddenly-red face and a growing wet spot on her trousers to Prorsus, than to Walker earlier. Fortunately, the young Three-Horn was still busy explaining the ins and outs of their unique, communal economy, which served nicely to calm her ardor, so she focused on trying to catch up on what she'd missed while her attention was elsewhere for a while...

All the thinking, learning, walking, and 'being diplomatic' was wearing her out, though - and being surrounded by so many huge, powerful creatures would have made it hard to focus by itself, never mind the lingering arousal from her recent voyeurism. She needed to... unwind. Badly. Or, to put it in a more easily justifiable way, she needed to clear her head if she was to deal with the present situation in a wise and logical way. Besides, she liked Prorsus. Their discussions had revealed him to be a serious and studious young male, devoted to becoming the best Chief he could possibly be. For all that he clearly longed to join other youngsters in their various games (and not just the ones taking place in the Sex-Huts), he felt the responsibilities of his station too keenly.

Better yet, if she was reading his demeanor and voice correctly, he had some reservations about some of the same aspects of Muhuru-Ngoubou society that she found problematic, including the strict Caste-system. She wasn't the only one who'd noticed his devotion to duty, either - as they walked through the village, the other Sirrush would usually greet him happily by name before noticing her and her retinue and having their attentions diverted by this alien sight. In her book, that spoke well for his qualities, both as a leader and as a person.

And so, she subtly guided their steps towards the Sex-Huts as they moved back towards the 'palace'. Passing them, she stopped him and sweetly asked if, perhaps, she could see the inside of one? "We don't have anything like that back home - youngsters are left to their own devises when it comes to finding a suitable secluded spot for their dalliances. And while I'm sure that encourages creativity, I feel that yours might be a concept worth borrowing!" Prorsus hesitated a bit, his large, flat feet twitching in the dust as he looked furtively around - a display of embarrassment if ever she saw one, and a pretty good indication that these creatures did not, in fact, have the ability to visibly blush. (Otherwise, he'd certainly be doing just that.) However, he could hardly deny such a diplomatic request...

Ori and Lutra peeled off at the entrance, with Lutra giving her a grin and a thumbs-up when Prorsus wasn't looking. Ori, who was a relative newcomer but nonetheless had grown familiar with her... appetites, rolled his eyes and sighed. They both sat down by the door (a rather solid affair made from layered thatch in a wooden frame, presumably to increase sound-absorbency) to watch the many, varied Sirrush walking by while she followed their draft-horse-sized guide inside.

Just like the first such hut she'd seen, there were enough embers in the central fireplace that Prorsus could light the fire simply by stirring them up with his horns and then throwing some dry logs on top - but mindful of his role as a guide, he also showed her a clever foot-pedal device which used flint-stones and some kind of raw ore to strike impressive sparks when worked - somewhat resembling an primitive, oversized fire-steel. With it, a quadruped Sirrush could light even a completely dead fire, with some difficulty. Regardless, the fire was soon going merrily, casting its flickering light over the (frighteningly flammable) interior, and sending a column of smoke up through the chimney-hole - which, he also explained, marked the hut as occupied and thus off limits.

Once upon a time, she would have had no idea how to proceed at that point - seducing a serious young man, never mind a serious young Sirrush. But she'd traveled far and wide since the days where she'd had to send Cybra out into the world to find her suitable partners, and she'd learned a lot. She knew by now that confidence was universally sexy, and that just about any male, regardless of species, tended to be flattered simply by the fact that a woman found him attractive and desirable. She also knew that in most societies, it was expected of females that they simply remained passive while men pursued them, surrendering themselves as a prize to whichever hunter managed to capture their heart. She didn't care much for that model - but she DID enjoy the way turning the tables on menfolk tended to leave them off-balance and easily manipulated.

Prorsus was no exception, on any of those counts. Indeed, it was particularly hilarious how intimidated he was when she discarded her clothes and propositioned him - for all that he probably outmassed her something like ten-to-one, it was clear that his sexual experience was either minimal or nonexistent... and just as clear that he recognized hers as being far more extensive and varied. For all his apparent reluctance, though, it was obvious that her alien body was far from repulsive to him - and that her confidence and forwardness had, indeed, hit the right buttons with him. The main clue being the sudden appearance of a fifth limb between his hind legs, growing and swelling as it emerged from its sheath.

He jumped when she touched it, making it clear that for all his leathery, armored hide, his privates were as sensitive as any other. She marveled at the exotic shape of it - short and stout, like Prorsus himself, but thick and girthy from end to other. Even the head was thick and conical, with the shaft rapidly bulging even thicker below. It narrowed a bit towards the base, which was basically part of the sheath - meaning the bottom of it was covered in a plate-like slab of coarse, leathery skin lined with thick ridges to make it more bendy. Presumably, the geometry involved in mounting a female Three-Horn ensured that this didn't come into contact with anything sensitive, but Sayn shuddered with dark pleasure at the realization that a human woman would not be so lucky.

Prorsus was already breathing heavily as she slipped under his barrel-like chest - a similar sensation to being with a Centaur, with his greater size making up for the relative shortness of his legs. His oddly-shaped cock was fully-erect and trembling with unreleased lust - clearly, even if he wasn't actually a virgin, it had been a while since he'd last been with a female, what with trying to focus on his studies... and he was right in the middle of those flowering years of youth where desires surged powerfully and ceaselessly. That he'd managed to restrain himself for so long was a marvelous demonstration of willpower indeed, and she almost felt sorry for breaking his self-imposed celibacy so casually. Mostly, though, she felt a powerful desire to find out what that thick, hard, intriguingly-textured cock would feel like between her legs.

Considering his immense size and mass, there was naturally no way he could properly mount her - she couldn't hope to carry even a fraction of his weight. Instead, he simply stood there, shuddering slightly, as she positioned herself on her hands and knees, pushing her groin back towards his trembling erection. Her pussy was drooling already, eager for a new experience, and the familiar sensation of having a huge, powerful body looming over her was working its magic as well. Deftly maneuvering her hips, she rubbed her dripping-wet slit against the fat cockhead, spreading the generously-flowing lubricant over it, and provoking an explosive release of breath from Prorsus. This breath turned into a groan that required no translation as she began to back up, pushing against his thick rod and forcing her labia to part around it.

Her own voice soon rose to join his in a lusty moan, only for it to be absorbed by the thatch-lined walls that had no doubt heard many before hers. His cockhead alone was filling her pussy delightfully, and there was no narrowing behind it - only a thick ridge on the top to denote the beginning of the shaft. The girth was only growing, stretching her labia tautly and enabling her to feel every ridge, vein and crease. There were more of them than she'd realized earlier, her eyes limited by the dancing firelight - but her pussy was under no such limitations, and the sensation was enough to take her breath away. She'd had sex with a number of different species by now - from Centaurs and Griffons through the various Beastfolk-tribes, to the Leviathan himself - but she'd never before encountered such a combination of size and texture. Indeed, it seemed almost tailor-made for her pussy - so thick that it'd likely be beyond the limits of even her practiced sphincter, and yet short enough that unless she'd misjudged it severely, it'd all fit inside her.

Well, she was fairly confident about the length, anyway - as she reached the thickest part of the shaft, she found herself suddenly questioning whether she'd really given the girth a proper assessment. It was thicker than the biggest Centaur stallions she knew of, including the flared heads they tended to sport when close to their climax. It was_technically_ smaller than the tool of the dragon, Aterxeus, but when she'd been with him her body had been altered with potent magic to handle it regardless. (Naturally, it was WAY smaller than what the Leviathan had been packing, but she hadn't even TRIED to take that immensity into her body.) Well, regardless of comparisons, the fact was that her labia were strained to the very limit, sending confusing signals of mixed pain and pleasure up her spine. Prorsus was standing stock-still above her, whether out of awkwardness or fear of hurting her, his breath coming in rapid bursts as he felt her vise-like tightness around his cock - she could stop at any point, and just inch forwards to make the most of what she could handle. He certainly didn't seem likely to complain. But instead, she kept pushing herself back, forcing her body to adapt. Her vagina was designed to allow a screaming, writhing, big-headed infant to pass through it - and if it could handle that, it could handle this!

Finally, the bulge that made up the mainstay of the shaft slipped inside, stretching slightly-more-flexible tissue and allowing her overworked labia to gratefully close around the base of his cock - which was probably still as thick around as her wrist. And, as she had observed at the start, lined with thick, leathery, heavily-textured hide. The still-impressive girth ensured that her clit was pulled down into contact with the ribbed plate of leathery armor that covered the bottom-side of the sheath, and the resulting explosion of sensation - combined with the feeling of being so completely filled - sent an orgasmic flash up her spine to ambush her unwary mind.

Her arms collapsed under her as the ecstasy exploded through her body, bringing the amulet that still hung around her naked neck into contact with the straw-covered floor as she arrested her fall with her elbows. Her legs were trembling too, but there was no way for her rear to fall in the same way, impaled as it were on the unyielding pillar of Prorsus' raging erection. She breathed in short, rapid bursts, waiting for the clouds of pleasure to clear from her mind so that she could start putting together coherent thoughts again. The first of which were: She'd cum so hard just from putting it in! He hadn't even started thrusting yet, despite the way his chest was heaving above her head. And... actually, he probably wouldn't, on his own.

With some trouble, she found her voice, and throatily called up to the massive beast standing over her. "See? I took it all. You can feel me, right? Wrapped all around you..." It took a few seconds before the answer returned - a breathy "Yes... I feel it... it's like nothing I've ever felt before..." She laughed. "Well, I've done my part! Now how about you stop just standing around up there, and start putting in some work, hmm? Move that big body of yours, and show me that youthful stamina..." She felt his hind-legs flex at her words, shifting his huge cock by just a quarter of an inch - enough to draw the ribbed armor-plate at the base against her clit again, sending up fresh fireworks in her pleasure-soaked brain. "I'm... worried I might hurt you..." He answered hesitantly, clearly struggling mightily with his instincts. She patted him comfortingly on one foreleg, and replied. "That's very nice of you, but I'm not that fragile. Just... follow your instincts. I'll tell you if you're being too rough, no worries."

He didn't immediately answer, but above her the multi-ton body finally began to move. As his hips shifted, pushing the immensely-thick cock deeper inside her - letting the fat head kiss her womb, even as the ribbed base buried itself fully between her pussy-lips - she realized that she'd just lied to him. However mild-mannered and gentle his spirit, the sheer mass and power of his body was triggering her submissive side with ease. Once the pleasure rose to consume her - which wouldn't take long, judging by how quickly she'd arrived at her first orgasm - she'd lose all self-control and restraint. So she wouldn't tell him if he was too rough - rather, she'd eagerly let him treat her body as roughly as he liked, crying with joy and moaning with pleasure through the inevitable pain.

The bulge of his shaft stretched her labia as he pulled back. In her pussy, so much smaller and tighter than the ones his cock was meant for, it functioned rather like the knots she knew from canine Beastfolk. But unlike them, his thrusts weren't geared for that, and so he kept pulling, nearly making her knees and elbows skid across the straw floor, until finally her labia stretched around his massive girth once again - with just as painful reluctance as before. Only then did he thrust forwards, pushing into her with all of the unyielding force and weight of the living battering-ram he resembled, shaking her body and bones. The entirety of her pussy sang like a bell under the hammer-blow of his thrust, from cervix to clit.

Prorsus' pace was plodding by most standards, but with each thrust delivering an impact that left her reeling, it was more than fast enough to send her careening headfirst into a sea of mind-consuming pleasure. Any thought of asking him to be gentler or go slower was blasted from her head by the first couple of orgasms, and so she simply braced her elbows and knees against the floor. The pace, meanwhile, gradually increased as Prorsus' pleasure and instincts burned through his residual reservations - and as it rose, more and more of his ponderous weight came to bear on his thrusts. His hips smacked into her buttocks with bruising force as he drove his cock repeatedly into her, jabbing at her womb with his blunt cockhead. And still, she made no protest - only high-pitched moans of pleasure that egged him on further.

Indeed, just the feeling of such a huge, powerful body laboring over her, _in_her, was an aphrodisiac. It made everything feel better, and considering how potent the sensation of being stretched wide-open by such a thick, hard cock already was, that was saying something. At the same time, the pain of the repeated tremors rocking her body seemed to shrink into insignificance - and the the burning sensation in her battered buttocks were, if anything, adding to the pleasure. Her labia, repeatedly stretching around the thick bulge of Prorsus' shaft, were gradually adapting to this treatment - causing that particular spot of pain to fade from her mind, even as the decreased resistance on the outstroke enabled Prorsus to use longer, smoother thrusts.

There was no counting the number of orgasms, or even the length of her pleasure - her mind was in no condition to do either. She did, however, manage to count Prorsus' climaxes. He was young, after all, and quick on the trigger - so it didn't take all that long before, with a drawn-out groan, he shot his first load into her womb. It felt thick and hot in her belly, filling her - though the quantity was, perhaps, a bit less than one would expect from a creature his size... perhaps even less than what her many Centaur lovers usually managed. Not that she cared about that - all that mattered was that, after a minute of shuddering stillness as he emptied his balls in her, he began to move again... thrusting with undiminished energy.

As tended to be the case with younger specimens, he made up for his early release with sheer staying-power. Three times he climaxed, filling her womb to overflowing even though each successive load was smaller than the last. And even then, he kept thrusting for a while before finally coming to a halt, his pillar-thick legs shaking around her. Her belly felt painfully strained - the thickness of his bulging cock and tightness of her snatch prevented the thick, gooey cum from escaping from the overstuffed orifice at more than a slow dribble. Her whole body, meanwhile, was trembling like a leaf after enduring what felt like an eternity of bone-shaking pounding.

She waited underneath him, feeling her belly ache with strain, her whole pussy throbbing with pain from the beating it had endured so far. Her arms and legs were close to giving out under her, and even her neck ached from the way her head had been thrown around by the force of the thrusts pouring into her. And still she waited, just in case he wanted to keep fucking her. Finally, however, he shuffled backwards, her labia parting without resistance around his girth as he pulled out. Her pussy gaped like a crater in his wake, oozing cum as her now-unstoppered womb rapidly emptied itself, and she could feel the warm air of the hut caress her battered insides.

Prorsus kept backing up until he was completely off of her, then staggered a few steps sideways and collapsed on his side, breathing heavily from what had clearly been a significant exertion. Ignoring the spike of pain in her neck, she tiredly turned her head to regard him, and was immediately hypnotized by the sight of his still-hard cock glistening wetly against his belly in the firelight, thoroughly stained with her juices and his trio of cum-loads. She tried to push herself up to her feet, but found that neither her arms nor her legs were cooperating, and instead settled for slowly crawling across the straw to him on her forearms and knees.

His immense body shifted and shuddered as she lowered her head over his slowly-deflating cock, and she watched with fascination as it jumped just from the touch of her breath. Then she hungrily bent down further and engulfed the thick cockhead in her mouth, her jaws aching from the effort as she sucked eagerly on the fist-sized hunk of meat. It felt hot and alive in her mouth, and was utterly covered in that familiar cocktail of cum and pussy-juice. Her tongue, jammed into the bottom of her mouth by the steadily-widening shaft's girth, could barely move, but she licked up what she could reach and eagerly sucked down the rest.

The throbbing ache in her overstretched jaws soon got too much to ignore, however, and somewhat reluctantly, she pulled her head back - letting the cockhead out with a wet plop. After working her jawbone side-to-side for a bit to get rid of the feeling that it was about to unhinge itself, she then settled down to get a better taste - licking across the broad surface of the bulging shaft, and marveling at the thought that something so thick had been all the way inside her. By the time she ran her tongue around the edges of the leathery armor-plate covering the base of the shaft where it met the sheath, however, the clouds of unreasoning lust were starting to lift from her overwhelmed mind...

Pushing away from the still steadily-shrinking cock, she rolled over on her back and groaned, eyes screwed shut. The pain had been there a while, but now that her mind was coming back into focus, she couldn't ignore it anymore. Her whole body was aching, muscles and bones alike overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the ride she'd just endured. Her ass was on fire, and she had no doubt that her ass-cheeks would soon bloom with bright-purple bruises - if they weren't already. Her pussy still gaped, worn raw inside and outside, with the labia feeling particularly sensitive after being rubbed by the harshly-textured sheath. Her clit was a bright, throbbing spot of overstimulated sensitivity, with even the feathery caress of the hut's warm air sending shudders of borderline pain through it. She'd need significant recovery-time before she'd even be able to walk. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to regret a moment of the events leading up to he current, sorry state.

"I shouldn't have done that..." mumbled Prorsus, whose sides were still heaving. Sayn glanced up towards his immense head, and did some quick reasoning. He probably - hopefully - didn't realize just how roughly he'd treated her, which meant that his comment was referring to something else... "Why not? Just because you're chief-in-training doesn't mean you can't allow yourself to have some fun now and then. It's important, actually, that you make the time to relax and enjoy yourself sometimes - otherwise, you'll never last in the long run!" It took some effort to keep her voice from sounding too pained and breathy, but she managed it well enough, she thought.

Prorsus' reply was presaged by a sigh, however. "It's not just that... I mean, you're probably right, but I shouldn't have done it with you. I'm still an adolescent, and maybe I was silly, pretending not to be... there really was no reason for me to deny myself the traditional diversions... but you're a Chief yourself! A GREAT Chief, even, from a great and powerful tribe! It's... just not proper..." Sayn didn't need any particular effort to make her laughing reply sound appropriately mirthful. "Oh, Prorsus... now you're falling into the classic trap of narrow-minded leaders and thinkers everywhere, assuming that your own cultural standards apply universally. That dalliances between different tribes is a childish pursuit reserved for the young - that's your tradition, _your_culture. Mine is... different. Back home, I have a harem consisting of representatives from each of the tribes who are part of my empire - they help me deepen my understanding of each tribe, represent their tribes' interests, and aid me in... unwinding after a hard day's work."

"Oh." The simply reply had the sound of amazed revelation. She had a feeling that she had, indeed, just opened the young Sirrush's eyes to a far greater world, with the realization that there were many tribes out there that didn't just look different from him (something he was well used to), but also thought very differently from him, with their own standards, ideals and cultural mores. Eventually, a more comprehensive reply came, and now it was Sayn's turn to be surprised. "Well... I still shouldn't have done it. Maybe it's just our tradition, but we believe that anyone who shares the pleasures of sex, be it in a sex-hut like this or a proper nest, should be honest with one another. To seek such pleasures through lies or false pretense is taboo. And... I haven't been honest with you."

The instincts of Empress-cum-Goddess, Sayn the Beastmaker, peeked out through the discomfort and awkwardness of the current situation, and she replied with deceptive mildness. "Haven't you? I'm surprised. You struck me as a very honest young man, and I certainly haven't noticed you speaking any lies..." "Oh, I haven't lied, as such... just... lies of omission..." he reassured her quickly, before trailing off. It was too good an opening to ignore. "Well, doesn't that mean that you can effectively wipe away your dishonesty just by telling me what you so far have been hiding? Come - this is a sex-hut, a place of privacy and solitude for two lovers, whatever tribe they are from. If you cannot speak your mind here, then where?"

The last part was a bit of a gamble, based on a still-imperfect understanding of the unique Muhuru-Ngoubou culture - but fortunately, she seemed to have nailed it, and Prorsus' quavery voice grew more solid and certain as he replied. "That's... true. I should tell you. Even if it means... well..." his voice stuttered again, and he had to stop to take a deep breath before continuing, now sounding more like someone trying to convince himself of something. "I haven't known you for very long, Great Chief Sayn, but I can tell that you're very powerful. However, I know from my studies that a Chief who relies on power alone is unlikely to last for long. So I have to believe that your power is tempered with kindness and compassion. That you... wouldn't punish a whole tribe for the misdeeds of a few..."

It was almost funny, hearing such a huge, imposing creature sound so uncertain and afraid... but only almost. With a grunt of effort, she rolled herself over on her belly and managed to shimmy far enough to put a comforting hand on his fierce, beaked face - feeling the rock-solid bones underneath the warm, leathery skin, and marveling at the fact that his skull alone probably weighed twice as much as she did. "You are correct in those beliefs, Prorsus. I would never do something like that. I came here to make peace, not to start a war. But peace, too, requires honesty - so please, for the sake of both our tribes, as well as your own heart, tell me what's going on!"

Finally, the dam broke, and it all spilled out so quickly that she could barely keep up. Chief Maastrich had lied to her, as she'd suspected. The conflict with the Centaurs had been deliberate - some of Maastrich's most loyal and reliable soldiers had carried out unprovoked attacks on Centaur foragers, after his stealthy scouts had both informed him of their purpose in the forest, and their impressive track-record against the monsters that roamed the plains. He'd been planning from the start to deflect the blame onto the Sharptooth Tribes, intending to turn the might of these mysterious newcomers into a weapon against his bitter rivals.

"I wasn't even supposed to know about it..." he rambled. "I just happened to overhear him getting a report from one of the soldiers, one night when I couldn't sleep and decided to get some extra studying done... I know the Sharptooth Tribes are dangerous and that we have to protect ourselves in any way we can, but attacking innocent outsiders just to drag them into our war, tricking them into dying for our sake... it's just... not right!" He tipped his head to look down at her with one eye, shimmering with unshed tears. "Actually, I guess I don't know that much about the Sharptooth Tribes after all. Everything I thought I knew about them, I learned from fa... from Maastrich, and apparently he's not a trustworthy source."

The bitterness and sorrow in the big Sirrush's voice was heartbreaking, and Sayn pulled herself in closer to give him the best approximation of a hug that their different anatomies allowed. He'd been acting like nothing was wrong while he showed her around, and for who knew how long before - all the time carrying around the broken pedestal of knowing that his adoptive father, the leader of his entire culture, was willing to stoop to such dishonest means in the pursuit of his goals. She didn't know what to say, how to comfort someone in such a bleak situation, so she just held him as his body was raked by silent sobs.

When finally he grew still again, his breathing stabilizing, her body had recovered enough that she managed to climb to her feet by supporting herself on his forelegs and skull. She gazed down at his face, so alien and yet so easy to read - the leathery hide around the visible eye stained by tears that had run from there, all the way down the lines of his face to drip from the tip of the horn at the end of his nose. Composing her thoughts, she smiled gently at him. "Thank you for telling me. It must have been immensely hard for you to bottle it up for so long... I promise that I'll do everything I can from my end to sort this mess out, and that I won't allow your father's deeds to color my perceptions of the Muhuru-Ngoubou as a whole."

Prorsus nodded slowly, horn scraping across the floor as he shifted his massive head. "From your end... that means I need to do something too, doesn't it?" His voice was thick from crying, but still sounded firmer than when he started, and she returned the nod. "Yes. You're the chief-in-training, after all. For starters, you need to keep up your efforts so far, hiding your awareness from your father. Beyond that, it might be a good idea if you carefully sounded out the general citizenry and particularly anyone in positions of respect or authority, to see if they know of the plot - and if not, if they were likely to support it if they did. Probably best to couch it in the form of a general, moral dilemma."

He nodded again, but only with a slight movement. His eye was focusing more clearly on her now, and she could tell that the brain behind it was starting to work. She was giving him what he most desperately needed - a plan of action, something he could do instead of just feeling guilty and miserable. And his name clearly hadn't been picked out of a hat when it came time for Maastrich to adopt a likely youngster - he must have stood out from his peers even as a hatchling, as a genius or prodigy. Given a problem he could actually sink his teeth (or, rather, beak) into, he was quickly dispelling the emotional limbo he'd found himself stuck in.

They spent a bit more time making plans and promises, contemplating actions and possibilities, and by the end of it she'd recovered enough to get dressed, albeit not without wincing. (First, though, she had to wipe herself off between her legs with a handful of straw that was subsequently disposed of in the fireplace to produce a cloud of peculiar-smelling smoke - a process which required some gritted teeth and sharp intakes of breath.) She still had to support herself on Prorsus' flank as they walked out of the hut, though. Sex-huts! What a marvelous idea, she thought. She and Prorsus had entered it as relative strangers, and were now leaving it as lovers and co-conspirators. Maybe she WOULD import the concept... perhaps as a kind of adjunct to her churches, for more private meetings?

Lutra, who had been waiting faithfully outside the door, took one look at her and growled audibly. "Dammit. I knew I should've gone in with you. I _knew_you'd lose control." Prorsus, of course, couldn't understand her words - but he clearly picked up enough of her tone to shoot her a worried look, and Sayn quickly stepped over to give the Otterkin a calming hug. "I'm sorry I worried you..." she whispered in the smooth-furred girl's ear. "But it's fine. Nothing's broken, I'll recover soon, and I had a VERY good time..." Lutra sighed and nodded, and helped her seat herself on Ori's offered back, accompanied by some fresh wincing. She probably could've managed to walk with some help, but it would've been rather obvious to even a casual observer that she was in a poor condition, whereas riding on the back of a servant would seem like nothing out of the ordinary for a Great Chief.

"That's all good and well, but if you intend to seduce any more of these... Sirrush, or whatever, I am going to be there to keep an eye on things and make sure you don't overdo it." Lutra said with fierce protectiveness, hovering over Sayn and shooting Prorsus such a dirty look that the massive creature actually took a hesitant step away - a sight made unbearably comical by their respective sizes, rather like a mouse staring down a cat. The tensions of the emotionally-charged discussion in the hut were released from Sayn's chest as she broke down into peals of helpless laughter, while Ori shook his head with mock resignation and started walking.

They took a long route back to the 'palace' to give Sayn more time to recuperate - and as a pleasant side-effect, got to watch the sun set over Mokele, which was a marvelous sight. The soft lighting added a fairytale-like ambiance to the place, aided by the sheer diversity of their inhabitants. Prorsus took the opportunity to further enlighten her as to the nature of the Tribes' cooperation - apparently, only those Tribes that occupied a middle-of-the-road 'sweet spot' in terms of size displayed the sort of intelligence she'd observed so far. The smaller tribes - like the chicken-sized scouts who had ghosted her on her way to the border - tended to be erratic, forgetful, and easily distracted, with an attention-span measured in minutes at best. Only a few of them ever developed the necessary maturity and focus to serve as scouts or the like, but the rest were so adorable - in their own, mischievous way - that no-one had the heart to really hold it against them. Meanwhile, the BIGGEST tribes were highly regarded for their invaluable contribution to farming, logging, and construction, along with many other places where their immense size and strength came in handy... but were also rather slow, plodding thinkers who took ages to consider even simple questions, and generally seemed happy to be directed by their smaller, more mentally agile cousins. All intriguing and potentially useful information to file away for later use.

Then, however, it was time to steel herself and put on her best mask, before going to meet Chief Maastrich again. Prorsus excused himself in front of the large hut, heading off to his own room via a side-entrance - he didn't feel up for facing his father at that point, and was afraid that he might lose his self-control if he did... potentially giving away his knowledge and disapproval of Maastrich's plan in some subtle way. "But don't worry!" he continued emphatically. "I... just need a little time to compose myself. Then I'll... do what I can, while keeping up the charade." They parted with the promise to reunite when she returned - as she inevitably would - though Lutra's stern gaze made it clear that they wouldn't be enjoying any privacy on that occasion.

Entering the 'palace' with Lutra and Ori in tow, she found Maastrich working on some paperwork... so to speak. Paper was clearly another thing the Sirrush hadn't invented, but it still struck her as a bit odd to find him scratching figures into a clay tablet with a foreclaw, leaving wedge-shaped marks that her amulet was no help at all in translating. If they knew how to make clay tablets, then why not clay bricks? Their capital would be less... flammable that way. But it hardly seemed like a polite avenue of inquiry, so instead she just greeted him and thanked him for the loan of his son, exclaiming that he had been a marvelous guide and taught her much of the Muhuru-Ngoubou and the Sirrush in general. (Which was certainly true.)

"I find myself quite sympathetic to your plight..." she continued, making the immense, tortoise-like creature perk up visibly. "Besieged by aggressors who cannot be reasoned and negotiated with... I am well familiar with situations where war, however terrible, is the only way to secure your own livelihood. From personal experience, even!" Maastrich nodded gravely along with her speech, and she wondered if she would have spotted the way the corners of his mouth twitched as he tried to suppress a victorious grin, if she hadn't been told exactly what he was planning. "...however, I'm sure you, as a Chief yourself, understand that I cannot make such a decision entirely by myself." These words put a stop to the twitching corners, right enough, though he of course still nodded along with suitable gravitas. "I will need to go confer with the Chief of the Centaur-tribe, at the very least, and possibly some of my own generals in the cities along the northern coast. I do not anticipate much resistance, however - especially not from the Centaurs, who are quite incensed about the loss of their foragers, and warlike besides. So with any luck, I will soon return with good news!"

Maastrich replied with 'heartfelt gratitude', as well as promises of future trade and cooperation that very carefully stopped just shy of anything that could be interpreted as an offer to join her empire. He naturally offered her a room in the 'palace' for the night, but she politely declined. "I feel the urgency of this situation too keenly - I will set out for the north immediately, and sleep on the back of my steed. My creations can run through night and day without rest - all the better to see this matter resolved as swiftly as possible!" He could, of course, only express his gratitude and admiration for her eagerness - and if he had any reservations about her intent to travel through the night, he hid them well.

She also declined his offer to have Walker escort her back to the border, stating that she had been told that the gates were purely for protection against the Sharptooth Tribes, and that the sentinels posted there would open them for her on request, without the need for anyone else to intercede - was that wrong? Of course it wasn't, and so she set off along the same main road between Mokele and the border that she'd taken in, only this time her golden riding-beast was going at a dead run, with Ori keeping pace in the air above.

They reached the border shortly after the sun had sunk beneath the jungle-lined western horizon, and the sentinels from the Sharp-Thumb Tribe had already lit torches there. They stuck carefully to the little circles of light these created, and were loathe to leave them even long enough to open the gate for her - though they still dutifully did so. Only now, with her expanded knowledge of the Sirrush Tribes, did she noticed how uncomfortable they looked with their weapons and armor. The Sharp-Thumb Tribe was mostly known for craftsmen and builders, masters of the carpentry that essentially encompassed all of the local architecture. These had been pressed into service as sentinels in spite of this because the gate, built from logs and ropes without any metal, required constant maintenance and repair to continue functioning. With that in mind, they did not look so intimidating, however big and armored they were.

Beyond the gate, the night-dark jungle waited, along with her faithful Elite Beasts. The road they had cut through the jungle remained, though the fecund wilderness already made inroads into the trampled area. They set off down this path, her constructs unconcerned with the darkness and Ori more than capable of navigating such semi-familiar ground by starlight... but only until they were out of sight of the gate. When Prorsus told her of the smaller tribes, he'd let slip - probably deliberately - a particularly useful detail: Even the most disciplined of the smaller tribes were entirely useless at night. However great their devotion to duty, they'd soon forget their assignment once the sun went down, and fall asleep in the first comfy spot they could find. Thus, she could be fairly confident that they were not being watched as they diverted off the beaten path, blazing a new trail through the jungle - east, towards the mountains. Towards the area where, according to Prorsus, the Sharptooth Tribes dwelt...

---

It is, at this juncture, worth remembering that one of the main complaints of her detractors on the Northern Continent (though not one they dared voice too loudly) was that her position as Empress had been won solely based on her mysterious power - in other words, that she lacked any real skill in diplomacy or statesmanship, leaving such matters largely in the hands of her advisers, particularly the awe-inspiring Korlin. While the military victory that cemented her reign was made possible by a complex network of treaties and alliances spanning three species and one Leviathan as much as her armies of Constructs, said detractors were usually quick to point out that all this could easily have been planned by Korlin, especially since Sayn had enjoyed only fairly minor influence on the continental political situation prior to being joined by the enigmatic Kirin.

The events that transpired on the Southern Continent was what silenced those dissenters once and for all. Traveling with only a pair of consorts, having left Korlin to manage her Empire back home, she wandered into a diplomatic situation that could best be described as 'nightmarish'. The hostile First Contact between the natives and the Centaurs, along with said Centaurs' general belligerence and the manipulations and deceptions of then-Chief of the Muhuru-Ngoubou faction, Maastrich, all served to create an extremely muddy, complex, and volatile situation. Seeing how Sayn cut through this murk to find a diplomatic solution that benefited everyone involved, we - like her contemporaries - thus have no choice but to acknowledge that she was a genuinely talented diplomat and stateswoman... regardless of what would prove to be the ultimate consequence of the resulting treaties.

• Excerpt from The Historic Sayn, by High Scholar Marova

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Continued in_ MOUNTAIN _