Jorvi showed up, with Pik in tow and shouting at me.  “Race day Skoli!  All out, all against all. We best hurry!” I’d kinda expected them to turn up. Best buddies them - Pik is human like me, while Jovi is Fae, of the elf breeds.

“I got another set of buckets to finish!”  I was knocking slats, trimming, adjusting the ring and had already cut the bottom groove.

Jorvi pushed Pik forward. “Finish it later! Even Pik says so!”  He grabbed Pik’s face and made him nod, while Pik tried to push Jovi away.

“The old man will chew me up!”

Pa’s voice came from the back. “I’ll finish ‘em and you can cut the staves later! You’ll work better when you ain’t mooning over missing the races and knocking about with those two!  Get!”

Jorvi pushed Pik away and grabbed me hand while standing on tip toes and dramatically calling to the back with his hand raised. “Wise Master! May yer tools ever be sharp and the taxman miss you!”

“You lads get and try to avoid any brawls, eh?”

“Always!” swore Jovi with a wink. 

Perfect day- cool breeze, warm sun and scattered clouds stopping it from getting to hot walking the cobbled streets and raised walks, past the tan sandstone buildings and houses, some of bricks and some wooden timbers visible.  We’s joking and looking at all the Incaras folk in skin, hide, scales and fur. Fancy dress and low garb in tatters or patches, and  the Hunters in their armor and weapons, who part the street crowd like a wedge. We coulda walked down the city road to the race field, but you get a right good view lookin down from the cliffside western walls.  That be the University, and University West districts. Fancy towers and buildings of the red granite stone and bricks make up the university, with ivy and trees and lawns.  Nobles and wealthy merchants and foreign kids from the Petty Kingdoms, Kiquazuld and the Downs. The university folk wear the scholar robes in brown and yellow. The scholars and teachers wear black and yellow.  Uni be clear west across the city from our homes in Griffon Corner district, eastern side where the Griffon Rider fortress is.  West from Griffin is the General’s Fountain and the Fountain District, then next comes the Arena, Monster Town (turn north to the Old Fort/ Thieves district) and then University West. We got over to the open wall, a space  just east of the University. Some street rats sold us a good spot on the wall that they had been holding. Just 1 gold each. Drinks and grills from a cart.  We done settled in to watching the chariot races - some pulled by Centaurs and some by horse teams. We’re yelling for our teams and pushing each other around for supporting stupid teams.  I’m a good guilder and back Green. Green is the Oak, party of Guilds, and says as them should have the most say in the city. 

“Jorvi- why you backing Reds?  Since when is a roofer’s assistant all about protecting Mercs, hunters and ‘venturers over common folk? You could be sensible and support the White Wheel of the rest of us folk,  like Pik!”

“Talk it up Guild boy! Who buys the wares and has fancy houses what need roofs fixed?”

“Merchants and traders, like the Gold Star. Fancy lords and ladies and knights of the Blues?”

“The Gold is too stuck up and want to pay as little as they can!  They’d wreck the guilds too. And the Blues?  Ugh! Oh, you nasty flithy commoners!” says he with a fake sneer and nose up in the air.

We all have a good laugh at that. Gets us some sour looks from University students next us.  Blues and Golds.

Pik pipes up “ Since you are sweet on that Ghenid,  Skoli, you should be backing the Black.”  The Blacks, the Blackhorse, for the lowest folks, the strange, and monsters that want everyone free to achieve, help for the poor and equal before the laws.

“Folk is folk” Says I wit a shrug. “If they be bit strange and scary to us summut, but otherwise no better or worse - then the Black is ok too.”

I were raised to be a follower of the Church of the Powers That Be, and observe the three laws:

Satya: All are connected, and all things change from the push and pull.

Karma: Fixation and obsession lock you to consequences.  What you sow, so you reap.

Dharma: Duty and responsibility to care for and respect others, and yourself.

So, I should maybe be more Whites or even Black.  Most fae  is like Jorvi, followers of the Church of the Powers, though there be some as follows the Centaur Riflian Dreaming Tree mysteries church.  Most of Incaras is The Church of the Powers That Be, since the monks of the Watcher of the Ways were the first that settled the plateau.  Monks and priests, and scholars. They started the Temple and University. Then mercenaries since there weren’t no kings or lords, except the Mercenary commanders. Rich folk started calling themselves Lords and Ladies and founded wealthy families. The Nobles. Then them as makes stuff the monks, priests, mercenaries and nobles needed. Also suppliers and traders following the mercenary and noble’s gold.

 Three laps and three sets of teams, and there we is, shouting and cheering on our teams.  White started strong and Green as close behind in the first races. They didn’t do so well in the second and third sets. In the end Gold takes the win with the Reds in second. Green third. There is celebration by Gold supporters and Reds. Cheers and back slaps. Some trading coin on bets.  Jorvi be looking off into nowhere, and walks stumbling along waving his hands in the air as we tug him with. Gathering the gossamer of the crowd’s high spirits. Stuff the fae use to make their magics.  

Somewhat steps infront of us. Pushing us back and one takes a jab at Pik while snarling. “Low townie scum! Stupid Greenies! White and Black stinking trash!” Some University nobles. 

Jorvi snaps outta his state, and shouts at them “Whachya doing? Them ain’t Greens nor Whites!  Yer drunk!”  They paused and the one with a raised fist looked confused.

I looks over at Pik- he’s wearing the University robes and colors. Me too. I grab Pik and whisper ”He done a glamour on us, get!”  Pik’s got his hands up and a silly grin.

So we start walking right fast. Jorvi runs, cutting down an alley and we runs the street to catch him up on the other side.  Except there be summit waiting just afore the exit. One of them Uni-boys. 

“Oh look, a pointy ear freak!  Why ya running little fairy?” He’s got a hand in his robes and a tone like poison. Not good.

Jorvi is Pookah, of the wood tribe of Pix. Tall pointed elf ears that stand up. Sharp features. One of the smaller build breeds of elf. Bit shorter than me and Pik, maybe five foot, not no foot tall fairy.

 Now, the other thing as a follower of the Church of the Powers, we got a guardian spirit. Mine be of Baelin the Green Warden of the wood and takes the form of a bear spirit. I can see it, even when it’s invisible to others. It can show it’self if I really need. Mostly it is just there. And now, it’s pointing well away from this feller.  Bad omen. Not good one jot.

This feller, he pulls out a dagger and makes a swipe at Jorvi.  Pik and I jump him from behind, me low and him high. Pik were a herbalist’s assistant, following mum’s trade. Lotions, ointments, draughts and powders. Not the muscle of Jorvi and me. I’m wrastlin, holding him down and Pik’s smacking the hand down to get the dagger away.

 “You damned cowards! Pansies! Helping that abomination!”   

Oh! He’s one of them Lyrians.  Church of Man.  Hates what they call “Mockeries” of humans. Fae most. Centaurs too. Humans are the chosen ones of their Gods. Everyone else should serve humans or is enemies to be killed off.

“Just drop the blade and we don’t call the Watch. We all just go our ways.” says I to him.

“Bugger off! Just.. *hurk*…*hurk* ” He starts heaving. 

“Chucking up!” I shouts. Drunk and full of bile, looking to fight. It’s Incaras. Brawls is common. Drink fires up some.  Jorvi done come up and twisted the dagger away, tossing it clattering and ringing back the way he come.

And this bloke starts vomiting. Gushes outta him and squirts several feet! Can’t hold his drink. But then he’s pushing his self up. Grabs me arm, giving a punch what takes me wind away.

Pik jumps back and starts yelling “Murder! The Watch! Help!” 

Jorvi says “There’s something wrong with him.”

“Yeah” I’m thinking as I’m gaping like a fish. “ He’s a damned Lyrian! And puking his guts out!”

The Lyrian pushes me off, “You make me sick! You simpering weasels! Serving some twisted shitstain that thinks it is a person! Abomination! ” this while wiping the spittle and bile from his face with the back of his hand.

And I see’s it now. Some dark thing in his eyes. Not just hate..something wrong. Me bear is weaving back and forth making steps away to the street.

Jorvi is pointing at the puke…the stones is sizzling and looking melted, pitted where it spilled. 

“Oh, damn.” says I.  This is one of them things about Incaras. It ain’t just the humans and fae, the Centaurs and lizard Octnon or cat-like Bahku with their manes and braids. Monsters is citizens and wander the streets. The drunk passed out in an alley might be just a beggar or some blades master as can chop you to bits, if pushed. Mages and all kinds wander the streets and live as neighbors. Adventurers and Hunters Guild. Some University Lyrian thug barfing acid as can dissolve bricks. Ya never quite know, so most don’t go looking fer troubles. And you figure ways to cut quick for the strange if you ain’t one of them.

“Shit.” Adds Pik.  And quick as that he’d pulled a pouch from his pocket and blows powder right in the feller’s face. 

“Wha..” He’s gapping and wiping at his face.

Another blast of powder in the face. And the Lyrian starts coughing and wipes away with both hands..

Pik’s backing up now. “Got a good one that time.”  

The Lyrian is staggering at us and blinking. “Get you.” he gasps around heavy blasts of breath.

“Mum’s sleeping powder.” Says Pik with a smile. “That handful should knock out Centaur!”

“Hoi! You!”  It’s more of them coming down the alley the long ways.  The Lyrian is dropped to hands and knees breathing like he just run a hard mile.

We looks at each other and run.  Hit the street and pass a handfulfull of curious  as is looking up the way we come from, and bolt as we hears a whistle off left down another street we blow past.  The Whites…not the team or party- the White Cloaks.  City Watch.  Them is best to deal with something this strange.   We mixed into folk on the street and Jovi dropped the brown robe glamour. Talking ‘bout this. “I heard some Dragons can spit acid.” says Jovi.  

I shake me head. “He were a Lyrian, and Dragons is monsters. No way.” 

“Wizard?” asks Pik

Jorvi scrunched up his face. “Naw, he’d a done other magics on us!  Maybe some sorcerer with a demon.”

“Demons is as bad as Fae and Monsters!  No Lyrian’s gonna belly up on that!” Is my answer.

We made the long way home with a stop by the Temple of the Watcher and the Powers, due West from Griffin. We done made  a prayer of thanks, as it’s always best to be on the good side with the Gods.  Swear I be paying better heed to me spirit guide. As we left the Temple grounds Pik says "I need a drink!"

"Me too." says I.

Jorvi looks from Pik to me. "Right, follow me lads. To the best alehouse."

Then we made a detour to the Fae district for drinks at the Green Dragon Public House and tavern.