Head to the main hall.

Looking forward to your night with Kara, you head into the castle's main hall. Donald and Jana are nowhere to be seen, but you do see a group clustered around one of the top tables that is of interest to you.

Roland and Solla are engaged in conversation with Rana and Juhi, the two lioness beastfolk of the Oro Elide. Their half-brother Khaliq sits in between them, the only one not supping eagerly from a tankard of ale.

“We felled scores beyond counting!” Rana boasts in a feline purr. “Deanian blood flowed like the sea!”

“Ah, but me and Roland were alongside King Donald when Jarl Hjordis was defeated.” Solla responds.

“Yes, the fiercest warrior on the field, and you still had to leave her to your king, eh?” Juhi, the quieter of the two lionesses chimes in.

“Wasn't like that at all!” Roland protests. “King might've never made it out of there without our swords at his side.”

“You did more than this one, I'll give you that.” Rana chuckles, nudging her half-brother. “A shame this boy Jarl of Einar's was already in chains, huh brother? I'd say that's the kind of foe you should stick to, until you're a man. A real man, like Father was.”

“Peace, sister.” Khaliq protests weakly. “I-I held my own.”

“Hail, all.” you interject, limping to the table. The gathered warriors show you the proper respect as you join their discussion.

“Hail, Your Majesty. Some of us were just discussing the glory we earned in the past battle.” Rana explains.

“With all due respect, Lady Rana.” Solla begins, her tone level. “I do not think you're being fair to your brother. From what I hear, he took Hjordis' camp, no?”

“Yes, he did at that. With a few hundred of the Pride to back him up.” Rana concedes. “And his mother, of course.”

“I gave the orders!” Khaliq protests. “Mo- the Regent simply offered counsel.”

“Counsel? Pah!” Rana spits passionately. “You're too reliant on the counsel of others, brother. It's why Seki still leads, despite your passing the Age of Ascension what, a year ago?”

“I don't have to sit here and take this kind of talk!” Khaliq protests weakly, the slender young man rising from his bench.

“Then go! Whimper back to your room, do whatever it is you do, hiding away there all day! You're no Lion, you're a weak milksop!” Rana calls after the retreating prince, her hackles raised.

“...Perhaps I had best go about my duties...” Solla says awkwardly, making to leave.

“Stay! Our brother may not be a true warrior, but you, Solla, you are.” Rana tells her. “You'd have made a fine addition to the Oro Elide.”

“Not when I first began walking the world, taking contracts.” Solla protests. “I was too isolated back then, not ready to be a part of something greater.”

“With us, the rewards certainly would've been greater. Every warrior in our Pride takes a share of the food and plunder that would make a king envious!” The lioness boasts.

“Speaking of plunder, is it true?” Roland asks. “The stuff your brother pulled out of Hjordis' camp?”

“You mean the Skull, yes?” Rana asks. “We only saw it the once, Seki is having it held under tight guard, but indeed, she brought her father's skull on campaign with her.”

“I've never actually seen a giant.” Solla interjects, sounding a little disappointed. “When I was travelling up to Beatha, everyone told me the north was crawling with giants! Is it really as big as all that?”

“You've seen how big Hjordis is, you know how big a normal human is, do the arithmetic.” Rana chuckles, taking a lengthy draught from her flagon.

“These raiders are a queer lot.” Roland says, shaking his head. “Why's she carrying her old man's skull about?”

“It's a Deanian tradition, so I hear.” Solla tells him. “It's not uncommon for them to bring along the remains of their ancestors when they go to war. We've found plenty of decorated skulls, pouches of knucklebones, the like.”

“Only I imagine most skulls don't require pall-bearers.” Rana quips.

“It's a good thing that she's off the board, but damn if the giantess didn't make it costly for us.” Solla remarks, staring down dejectedly into her pint.

“Most of our warriors survived.” Rana shrugs. These battles are obviously far more impersonal for the Oro Elide. Unlike Solla, they were fighting for coin, not to defend their adopted homeland.

“Wish I could say the same for our forces.” Solla responds glumly.

“Still,” Roland interjects “We won the day, and Einar has to be hurting now, yeah? Can't have too many Jarls left.”

“That's right. There are three armies still to the north and west.” Solla informs you. “The largest and most capable of which will no doubt be moving with the king.”

As the conversation turns from losses and casualties to matter more befitting the ale hall, you notice Bezoriana, hooded and concealed in her human glamour, watching you from afar. Raising a single hand, your aunt beckons you.