remind me of the name of the character you played the other week?

Arabella marched back towards the city mulling over the recent battles. The creatures had been small, and their high pitched screeching mildly amusing, yet their relentless waves had made them tougher opponents than she had initially envisaged. As the heavy rain lashed down her back, she cursed herself for not having slayed down the arrogant little king, whilst his minions were otherwise attacking, Sir Furin. Although a strong fighter the large knight had angered her, with his stubbornness, inability to work as a coherent unit, and most of all for his treachery in not protecting Brother Jara, and adding insult to injury by not assisting in bringing him back from the brink of death. That was yet another deed that no doubt would come to haunt her, yet how could she has avoided it given the will of her comrades? Surely it was better to bring him back in the name of our Lady than to allow such a futile death. She traced the fresh shapes that ran across her ample bosom, the scar still burning her skin. What price would the Lady exact, when would it come, and would the earnest Brother prove to have been worth it?

“So we need to hunt ‘fings and bring them back to the Compte” Pshak tried to get to grips with the strange Milenese custom.
“sort of” replied Jig “ we follow these clues, and bring back the answers to Master Finch, and the group that finishes first are the winners”
“pffff” growled Pshak “that’s not enough, if it’s a hunt then we hunt fings it’s obvious”
She ran off at the head of the Scholars, the rest of her adopted family, Jig, Deuteronomy, Litlith and Malou trailing behind her, and bounded into the royal hall, calling back to Jig

“so what’s we hunting in here then”

“it’s a symbol of some sort” replied the older weimic, running up to the group of musicians who were setting up for the evenings entertainment. He seized a flat metal disc and exclaimed with glee “and here it is, a cymbal, this must be what we need”

Pshak gazed around the room, and her eyes lighted on a cluster of blue feathers behind the throne

“don’t be stupid Jig, it’s a hunt, an a metal circle is not what you hunt, I see a bird” and she pounced across the dias, grabbing the peacock crest between her teeth and pulling it away from the throne.

Suddenly a scream went out from the blonde HU-man in the elaborate blue dress and jewels “Servants, vat is this riff-raff doing in my hall” and 2 male HU-mans scurried over to where Pshak was crouched bird between her teeth.
“M’ilady” they questioned politely “what ARE you doing, that is the Compte Delano’s throne”

“I is hunting the bird cos the compte asked me to bring it to him” she replied spraying them with feathers “it is important that I bring it to him”

“I think you will find mi’lady that you are meant to be returning with the answers to puzzles that will make up the crest of the Compte” the servant patiently explained, whilst in the background the blonde HU-man continued to complain about ”ze riff-raff in ze palace”

“oo was dat then” Pshak asked irritably as the other scholars ushered her, sans bird from the hall “the blue lady dat stopped me bringing the birdie to the compte when he expressly wanted it”

“I think she is very important” explained Jig

“how’s that then”

“I think she and the Compte may be lovers, and thus my dear Pshak it is very important that we do not offend her.

Pshak followed the others to give Master Finch the answer to the first clue, still muttering to herself
“bloody stupid HU-man hunting, where you don’t bring back birdies and I is sure the Compte wanted that birdie brought to him”

Pshak raced through the camp at sunset, ignoring the cries of the stallholders keen to sell some trinket or other before the fast approaching darkness set in. She'd been neglecting the Milenese lady, heavy with child though she was to keep an eye on that arrogant upstart Gin Tang most of the afternoon. How dare she consider herself so important, and relegate Pshak to the sidelines? Granted she was apparently engaged on "very important supplication business", but surely it wasn't that difficult - Pshak herself had been able to talk to Pugnacious Arteman and get things moving on an apparently elusive Merchant supplication in only two shakes of a weimics whiskers. Each time Pshak had managed to track down where the white weimic had disappeared off to, she was either deep in conversation with the dubious HU-man shaped eidelon Rune, or running arround after wasps anyway, and NOT enaged in scholar business as she kept alleging.

Now however she did not care for the whereabouts of Gin, now she could smell the sharp scent of change, of an imminent birth on the evening breeze. There was no way that she was going to risk leaving Lady Justine to the auspices of a HU-man surgeon, competent though Dr Havilard seemed. She, Pshak had delivered many more kittens into the world than her tender years, and in far more difficult circumstances. Now, she was sure, there was important Scholar business to attend to, business that she, Pshak was most adept at dealing with.

The young weimic ran into the Milenese encampment, red mane flowing wind tousled behind her, reaching the fire just in time to hear Lady justine, hand to her stomache, turn to Amelie and say in a concerned tone "I fear that the baby may be moving". Pshak bustled up pushing the caring barmaid to one side. "are you having contractions m'ilady? 'as the waters broke yet?...

Lovers has gone to the Compte i'm afraid (which is mildly annoying as Lovers would be far easier to do for Lady Anselina)

choose another?

Strangers is gone to blackcurrants.

Pshak balanced with one paw on the log, stretching the other out as far as she could, trying to relieve the pain in the limb. The moon was high in the sky casting silverly shimmers over the lake. For the hundredth time she cursed Column for this ludicrous way of improving fortitude. Stand still for an extended period in a confined & uncomfortable space - hardly difficult, for one that had spent her childhood on the slave ships. It wasn't that she couldn't complete the tacturn wemic's schooling it was just mind numbingly boring, and not what she envisaged her newfound freedom should be about. Growling to herself she swopped paws round, stretching out the other limb, and thought about the recent trade fair. Strange though Columns techneiques were, she was now considerably calmer about the choices that the spoilt and previously cosseted Gin Tang had made in changing her religion, the young weimic was clearly struggling in her own way with the New World, and was clearly not used to hardship and death and destruction in the same way that she, Pshak was, and anyway hadn't Uncle Jig explained that Coyote and Weaver were of a similar nature? The smelly HU-man was however an entirely different net of fish. How could he desert Bubasti in a drug fueled binge - for huntress sake he'd even been a priest. Pshak was not at all sorry that her last gesture towards the cowardly creature had been to take a large chunk out of his arm. She bared her teeth and grinned inwardly, perhaps with Horn's poor hygiene it would have rotted off by now.

I *believe* (though don't quote me on this) that it's supposed to happen only a day or two before Event 1.

:)