A flame-haired centaur woman.

A tall centaur woman you haven't met before walks in through the just-opened door. "Good, you are up already. The Council summons you. Follow." Her words are brusque, but her voice is a warm mezzo-soprano that sends a sizzle down your spine. You take a moment to look her over. She's on the taller side of female centaurs you've met so far at a little under three meters tall. Her skin is lightly tanned and her fur is a rich coppery brown-red. Waves of bright crimson hair fall in disorganized masses down across her shoulders and back like a cascade of molten metal. Eyes the color of emeralds return your stare impatiently. Her nose turns up just a little at the end and her lips, although pursed in a frown, are plump and a part of you can't help but wonder how they'd feel around your dick. Down, boy, you think to yourself. Her ears resemble the mage-Councillor Ailis's, sticking straight out from her head for several inches instead of being buried in her hair. Her shoulders are a little broader than usual for a woman; her breasts, though, are huge. She's wearing a thick leather jerkin which binds her breasts tightly to her chest while leaving her midriff bared, so it's hard to tell exactly how big they are, but they are impressive nonetheless. They aren't so large as to be oversized for her frame, but you're pretty sure that this lady has at least a full cup size on the black-haired Councillor's already-impressive bosom. Tearing your eyes away from her shirt, you notice that while her figure is quite feminine, she has well-defined muscles and any fat on her body is concentrated in the two places it does the most good.

Finally you realize that you've been ogling her for several seconds and your eyes snap back up to hers. Her stare has turned into a glare. "Well? Will you follow or must I drag you?" You blush at having so blatantly checked her out and incline your head towards her.

"My apologies, I will of course follow you. Please allow me just one moment to finish getting dressed." She snorts in impatience, but doesn't say anything as you quickly pull your shirt over your head and tie up the laces at the neck and wrists. "Please, my lady, lead on."

She says nothing and backs out of the hut then wheels and begins to move off into the village at a quick walk. A quick walk for someone with the body of a horse is a brisk jog for you, so you have to scramble to catch up and don't have a lot of time to admire the way her muscles bunch and move under the satiny texture of her fur, or the way her twitching tail brings attention to her firm, rounded rump. You'd never really had much of a thing for horses before, and if you'd been asked a week ago whether you thought a centaur could be sexy you'd have laughed and mocked whoever asked you, but you are starting to gain an appreciation. This woman just oozed power and sensuality, despite her obvious irritation with you.

Despite the coolness of the morning, you've managed to work up a light sweat by the time your guide stops in front of a large single-story building. There is no door; instead, broad strips of leather hang from an opening wide enough and tall enough for two large centaurs to pass without touching each other. She waves you inside with a curt, "Enter. The Council waits." You push through the leather -- Probably there to keep the weather out, you think -- and into the building. Your guide follows you in but remains at the doorway.

The building is clearly designed for formal occasions. The five Council members rest on rectangular piles of cushions on a slightly raised central stage at the back of the building, while the front has rows of lower-quality padding in much the same way that a church has pews or an ampitheater has rows of seats. You approach the stage and then bow deeply and say, "Summoned, I come. What wisdom has the Starchaser Council for me?"

You straighten from your bow and see a few eyebrows raised. Eilwen, the white-haired grandmother, leans over to the silver-haired Ailis next to her and you think you hear "... cleans up well ... give him a ride myself ..." but that can't mean what it sounds like. She's got to be at least three times your age and a different species, to boot. You must still be over-stimulated from the redhead glaring holes in your back. Ailis just shakes her head ruefully and wags her finger at her fellow Council member. Then she turns her head towards you and inclines slightly in a shallow bow.

"Your good manners serve you well, Aidan Lostlorn." A prompt flashes into your vision but you mentally swat at it in reflex, needing to concentrate on what is about to be said. Surprisingly, it minimizes to the side of your HUD. Well, that will be useful in the future. I wonder if there's a way to automate that... you think before focusing again on the Council. "You present a problem to us. Our laws are very clear that trespassers are to be killed, and you were found within our lands. However," she says with slight emphasis, "there has been considerable debate over exactly what constitutes trespassing. There are those of the outside world who we allow to pass safely through our territory, so all outsiders are not trespassers. Similarly, innocents who accidentally stray over the border are escorted back when our patrols find them and given stern warning never to let it happen again, so intent is a clear factor. Yet you were found less than a day's easy walk from our village in the heart of our lands. None of our border patrols saw you, and you claim to have been here less than a day after having been magically brought here against your will. We sent a pair of skilled trackers to follow your trail and it matches your story entirely." She stops speaking and looks at you, her gaze troubled.

The big warrior, Fionn, picks up where Ailis stopped. "You know the location of our village, so we cannot simply let you go, but the Council has voted to show mercy, so we will not kill you. Our loremaster," he glances at Ailis, "suggested something which would resolve our problem completely, but it presents a problem of its own." The five of them look down at you for a long moment, and just as you are about to ask a question, the short man, Gerwyn, picks up the narration.

"There is a rite, used rarely and last before any of us were born, which would mark you as a member of the tribe even though you are not a centaur. Any tribe member would know on sight that you are one of us, and as a member of the tribe you would have free access to our land. The problem is that we do not know you. We know that you told us the truth, as best we have been able to tell, in our earlier meeting, but words are not enough on their own." He stops speaking and the black-haired Anwn picks up immediately.

"Words have power, but actions reveal the truth. We will not slay you out of hand for something you had no control over, but if we are to grant you this boon, you must prove yourself to be a true ally of the tribe. You will perform a task for us, a dangerous task which we would not send one of our own to accomplish. Succeed at this task and return to us with proof and we may -- may -- consider performing the rite. Die, and you will no longer be our problem. Refuse, or flee from your task, and we will kill you." Her face is hard as she pronounces judgment on you. There isn't an ounce of mercy in her eyes, and something gives you the feeling that she was outvoted on this matter.

Eilwen takes up the thread of the speech, saying, "We will not send you out unarmed and unaware, however." Her eyes dart sideways towards Anwn, then return to yours. "Your weapon will be returned to you and you will be given a set of light armor appropriate for your build. Further, Steffan will guide you to your destination and give you as much information as we have on your task, then either bring you back upon your victory or bring word of your defeat. Know that we do not believe this task to be beyond you; we are not sending you to your certain **** as a way to salve our consciences. It will be difficult and dangerous, but when you return victorious, know that you will have earned at least our friendship." Her words are a clear dig at her fellow Councillor, and Anwn's nose flares as she resists the urge to say something.

A voice from behind you startles you so badly that you actually jump a couple of inches into the air. You hadn't even heard the flame-haired woman approach but her voice comes from just over your shoulder. You have to resist turning around to look at her. "May it please the Council, I would request that it be myself who leads this human to his destination. You are sending him off to into Bannagh Macht, are you not?" Her voice is respectful, but with an edge of accusation. "I have petitioned the Council before for permission to purge that place and always I have been told it is too dangerous. Well, I say that if it it is too dangerous for me, then you are sending this man to his sure ****, especially with Steffan as his guide. You know that one will do exactly what he is told and no more, even if it breaks the spirit of his instructions. If the Council truly has voted to send this man on a life-or-**** mission to that blighted place, and if you will not let me do it alone, then send us both." The last was spit out as a clear challenge.

Anwn opens her mouth to fire back at your unexpected ally, but Fionn lays a hand on her shoulder and she subsides with a grumble. Fionn, Eilwen, and Gerwyn all look to Ailis, for some reason. For her part, the silver-haired woman gazes serenely down at the centaur behind you. "Very well, Brighid. If this matters to you this much, we will allow you to take Steffan's place on this expedition -- but you will bear all of his responsibilities. If Aidan refuses this task or flees from battle, you will slay him yourself. Furthermore, we forbid you from shouldering the burden of this task. You may assist Aidan if you feel that you must, but this is his task, not yours, and it will be without meaning if you do it for him. We will examine you with a spell of truth upon your return to ensure that our will is done. This is the Will of the Council." She declares.

"So say we all!" Echo the other four members of the Council with the air of a practiced ritual, and a window pops into your vision.