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It takes a week of travel through the desert before the party arrives in the humble village of Alan Ak-Khan. It is a very small port town, but the only ships at harbor are fishing vessels and boats capable of traversing the Bay of Balifor, but not the ocean itself.

"This is where we part ways," Karkat says. "You can keep those five horses. We don't need them."

"Thank you all again for everything you've done," Syriana says humbly. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

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It is now Fierswelt 01, Kirinor, at Third Watch (9:00 AM).

"Take care, Syriana," Imani says to her sister wife. Despite having her veil on once again, she offers the younger woman a small smile.

Babushka hugs Syriana around the waist and says: "Yes, take care. I wish I could have gotten to know you better."

"I am rather sad you are going, I had hoped you might stick around." Locky lowers her head and frowns a little, "I hope these guys look after you, and that we might meet again one day." She offers the girl her hand, and then hugs her tightly.

"Syriana." Jerrard offers his hand to the Princess, "You are free, enjoy and embrace it." He smiles and steps forwards, not embracing the girl.

"Thank you," Syriana says to them all. "I wish I could stay, too, but your lifestyle is too much for me. I cannot wield a sword or cast a spell, like you can. I would not last long in your company."

To Jerrard, she says, "Am I?" She looks back to the Hungry Shadows. "Spending my life hiding from a god and his men. Never allowed to leave the sight of my guardians. No, I do not think I will ever know freedom again, for as long as I live."

On that somber note, the two groups part ways. The party rides the rest of the way to the village of Alan Ak-Khan. It is at least half the size of Ak-Tubal, and is a small fishing village. The cool breeze coming in from the sea is downright refreshing, and the squawking of the gulls can be heard even from the village's gate.

The people that live here are of the Khur tribe, not the Mayakhur tribe. That distinction is lost on the westerners, though. They can't see any difference. The locals mostly leave the party alone, as their desert robes help them blend in better than when they first arrived in Ak-Tubal.

"I still can't believe we just let her go with them," Thuskar says, atop his horse. "They were assassins who worshiped a goddess of murder, after all."

"Do you think they'll hurt her?" Ulster asks.

Thuskar shrugs. "I don't know. But whatever they want with her, I don't think it can be a good thing."

Up ahead, an inn is spotted. It seems considerably nicer than the Severed Ear, where they stayed in Ak-Tubal--at least, if outside appearances mean anything. The inn's name, written in Khurish and Common, reads "The Cat Tail's Inn."

"I can only agree with you, Thuskar" Babushka says heartily. But I have no idea what else we could have done. Even following them to know Syriana is well is really no option. We don't know the desert nearly well enough to do that undetected."

When they see the Cat Tail's Inn, she suggests: "Let's get in, then. Hopefully, they will offer baths. I could use one to get rid of the sand...everywhere. And fish will be a nice change from dry rations. Our animals will probably grateful for some serious grooming, too."

"I didn't want her to go, poor Girl, I hope one day, we can rescue her so she can actually be free." Locky rubs back the tears from her eyes. "Shall we enter the inn?" she asks, sitting astride the horse she has decided to call 'Denel'.

Jerrard frowns, slipping off his new horse 'Eila' "Perhaps I spoke wrong, she is not free, but then neither are we." He too looks at the inn and nods in agreement.

(Few posts to make then its equipment sorting time.)

"We're not free?" Ulster asks, puzzled.

The party stables their horses and donkey and then step inside the inn. The inn is not like any they've seen before. The walls are covered in shiny, colorful cloth. Fancy sofas, covered in pillows of numerous colors and patterns, fill the common area. The tables are very low, with pillows instead of chairs, meaning one has to actually sit down cross-legged to use them. There is no bar at all.

The place isn't very busy right now, although it is fairly early. An ogre sits at one of the tables with two Khurish men, discussing local events. A goblin appears to be enjoying a hookah a little too much. Otherwise, the place seems pretty slow.

A Khurish man with a wisp of a mustache approaches them. "Welcome to the Cat Tail's Inn," he says in Common, his accent thick. "If you are here for the show, I am afraid it will not start until sundown."

"When this task is done, perhaps then we will be." The mage replies, saddle bag over his shoulder.

"We were hoping you might be able to see your way to provide us with lodging in this fair establishment?" He smiles, motioning to the rest of the group. "And the show? It sounds interesting."

"This is quite the entourage you have here," the man notes, looking the very diverse group over. "Each room has two beds in it; how many rooms do you need?"

His eyes light up. "Ahh, the show! You do not know then? You are in for a special treat then. A dancer, the best there is. She is called the Rose of the Desert. She always draws a crowd. I think you will be most pleased with her performance."

"That sounds like an interesting show, as for the rooms, please allow me to discuss this with my group?." He turns to the group, "Three? I assmue Locky and Babushka will share a bed, they always seem to, Imani would you be ok sharing with them? Then we have myself, Ulster and Thurskar. Two rooms would be best?"

"Of course! Me and Babuskha always share, it is nice to snuggle." She grins and looks around, placing herself on the cushions with a swift motion. "Share with the Girls, Imani, it will be fun.. We can have pillow fights and..." She prattles on...

Imani had paused just before entering the establishment so she can watch the disappearing figure of Syriana and her group. She frowns slightly and shakes her head. She really didn't know what those people were going to do with Syriana, but then again Syriana seemed okay with the idea.

She walked into the inn with the others, and took a look around. She glances at Locky and Babushka blankly for a few moments before she shakes her head at Jerrard. "I'll take my own room," she says, deciding it is best to be alone.

"Three rooms then," the innkeeper says. "Five silver for each." He fetches the keys for each of them. "Anyway else I can be of service?"