"So, where's everyone staying for the next two weeks, anyway?"
Mog spit to the side out of nowhere.
"Fuckin' bug… Uh, we're staying at the stables."
Mikhail nodded, and looked ahead to the cathedral in the distance, sitting majestically on that out of place plateau.
'So, based on the way it appeared when I got here… The stables should be on the other side of the tribe.'
"Are we going there now?"
Mog put his hand over his shoulder, flicking his wrist from side to side in a horizontal sweep.
"Nah, fool. We're going to the Weekly Gathering."
Mikhail raised an eyebrow, before asking, "Weekly Gathering? What the hell is that?"
Mog chuckled.
"It's a tradition your human homies do. All you guys group up at the clearing in front of Grand Elder Maya's home and have a big ol' party. It marks the end of the work portion of the week and kicks off the rest period."
Mikhail scratched at his chin.
"So, you orcs don't do that?"
"Pft. No one does that. You guys are just weird."
Mikhail snorted, finding that mildly humorous. Because, he actually rather liked the sound of the Weekly Gathering.
"I guess we are," he said blithely. "Anyway… I'll race you there!"
"Huh?"
Mikhail then dashed past Mog with his back straight, flipping him the bird.
"Catch me if ya' can, bastard!"
"Hey, hey! If anyone's the bastard here, it's you!" he said while giving chase.
Mikhail let out a chuckle when he heard that, and looked over his shoulder as Mog started catching up to him.
"See ya' later, nerd!"
Just as Mog was about to pass him, Mikhail adjusted his posture — bending his back forward — and began a proper sprint!
His speed basically doubled, leaving Mog in the dust!
"Ah- HEY!"
Chuckling some more, Mikhail shook his head. This race was really unfair…
He then turned his attention forward. The two were rapidly approaching the clearing. In the distance, he could hear upbeat music. And he could see a huge bonfire, burning high into the sky.
A short while later, Mikhail found himself on the edge of the path, waiting for Mog to catch up to him. He could see how towards the center of the clearing, there were a bunch of stands and tables surrounding the giant bonfire.
He could also see a few, colossal skeletons in the fire, picked completely clean of their meat.
"Damn… This is fucking crazy…"
But it made sense.
After all, the expansive clearing was filled to the brim with people!
"Oh yeah, fool. Literally the entire tribe is here right now!"
Mog arrived at his side while he was busy scanning the crowd.
"This way, the caravan should be down that way." Mog pointed to his right, and then walked through the party, walking through the open paths intentionally left by the various groups of humans.
In about five minutes, they found the other orcs, and Mikhail looked at them with befuddlement plastered across his face… Why was Glasha fighting a human wearing a toga?
And why was there a group of orcs playing high energy fighting music?
"Well, you know where we are now. Go get some grub, fool."
Mog then left Mikhail to join the group, and began cheering on Glasha.
Shaking his head helplessly, Mikhail turned towards the center of the clearing, and then made his way over. And by chance, he happened to find Spencer running one of the food stalls.
"Ah, hey there! Come, come! I've got an assortment of fruits to choose from, as you can see!"
Mikhail smiled and made his way over. The man did indeed have an assortment of fruits, and he was eager to try those unfamiliar morsels of flavor.
Spencer's stall didn't have a table, but instead was sorted like one of the spice stalls he had seen earlier in the day. With a sort of staircase design and the goods sitting in large wooden baskets.
There were four steps, with the lowest one at Mikhail's knees.
Each row had five different buckets, for a total of twenty different fruits. But there was one more bucket hanging off the canopy of the stall, for a total of twenty-one different kinds of fruit that Spencer could offer him.
Deciding to practice Manakel, Mikhail asked, "What do I need to exchange in order to get myself one of each fruit?"
Spencer scoffed, and replied in Manakel.
"Making trades during the Weekly Gathering? What do you take me for, some greedy tart?"
Then, one fruit from each of the buckets floated into the air. Meanwhile, Spencer pulled out a circular wicker basket from beneath the steps. "Here, take this! Ordinarily, I'd be asking you to return it before you leave for the night, but I'll give it to you as a gift!"
Mikhail grabbed the basket with a light smile, watching as the fruits gently floated into it.
"Thank you. I'll be sure to treasure it."
"You better! Now go get some meat! A young man like you needs it!"
Mikhail nodded and said his farewells, putting two fingers to his head and then flicking them off to the side before walking away.
Spencer looked at him strangely, but nodded in return.
Meanwhile, Mikhail went to the next stall over.
The person running it was a tall black man wearing a black apron over a beige shirt and white pants stained in cool looking sauce blotches. Currently, he was busy roasting a slab of meat using the bonfire, his back turned to Mikhail.
After a short while, the guy returned, dropping the huge slab on the table.
"Ah, I was wondering when you'd show up! Mikhail, bearer of good fortune! How much {Brachiosaur} meat are you in the mood for?!" the man shouted, laughing as he procured some wooden bowls filled with different sauces, spices, as well as a large brush
Mikhail looked around, seeing how there wasn't anyone waiting behind him.
"Uh… How much can I have?"