Urog nodded. “Another good deed by Uriel.” The Gangers all lifted their glasses once again to toast. Urog smiled. They were all going to get drunk at this rate. Shirley’s reputation precedes her, so likely that wouldn’t be a problem if she got drunk. Tusk was pacing herself. Tla’al would end up in a drunken pile on the floor, like a good Ur’Rhug was expected to do.
Urog used his shapeshift abilities to ignore the alcohol, but still enjoy the drink. He was surprised none of his fellow kings ever called him on it.
“More stories to tell of the great Uriel.” Urog also took a mental note about how VLAD agents weren’t officially recognized by the EEF. Map’le also avoiding giving a full answer. But at least she wasn’t lying.
“In Brez, we don’t have a culture for honoring the dead, so this is new to us. It’s also very uncomfortable, so I’m going to change the topic, if you don’t mind.” Considering Map’le hasn’t once objected, he assumed the K’iorn would allow it.
“Before meeting you, we had come across a stange K’iorn. He had no name, but called himself The Nnghao. And he drank a lot. More than Shirley, and that takes a lot.” Shirley, to emphasize the point, downed an entire pitcher of wine and belched. “I never thought twice about it, until you told me that if you betrayed your tribe and attacked them if they were wrong, you would become nnghao. I was hoping you can tell me more of my guest and what a nnghao is.”