Josh choked on his own scotch as he lost control and laughed out loud, his head thrown back. He heard Jake join in as the half elf realized what had happened.

"I am sorry about that," Josh finally managed, wiping tears of merriment from his eyes with one hand while the other rescued Jarilo's glass. "You'd better not have anymore," he explained as he poured the lion's share of Jarilo's scotch into his glass, "I guess you've never had alcohol before. This is Sirohlian Scotch, one of the finest vintages I've found from anywhere on Althanas." He took a long, savoring sip. "It's an acquired taste, especially the alcoholic content. But I promise I didn't think you'd react-" he cleared his throat to hide a chuckle, "quite so strongly. Here, have some water." Josh pulled over the jug Clara had brought and poured Jarilo a clay mugful. He passed her the mug before resuming his own meal with gusto.

"Hey Jarilo," Jake joked, "how many fingers am I holding up?" The half elf displayed a hand with two fingers straight and the other three curled, and then straightened a third, then a forth, and then dropped them all into a closed fist. "If you can't tell, you might be drunk."

"Eat your dinner, Jake." Josh advised.

The half elf laughed but resumed munching noisily on roasted vegetables, having already demolished his portion of chicken.

~*~

The fiery portal in the clearing swirled and roiled, casting violent shadows across neighboring trees. For an instant it solidified, the flames still as stained glass, and a beastly being sauntered through.

The Flame Caste Drakari stood taller and wider than most of its brethren, taller than the average elf and wider than the average man. Its scales bulged overtop of unnatural muscle accrued from long days of training with might and magic. The Drakari carried a vicious double-ended flail and wore heavy plate-mail protecting the areas its natural armor was weakest. Smoke vented from its draconic snout as the beast exhaled and then drew a long breath, searching for the scent of the Fae. It had taken the Drakari and its brethren some time to read the residual energies left by the Fae's guardian's portal, but they had replicated the portal exactly using their own brand of magic. The Fae had passed this way perhaps an hour earlier... but she had passed this way. Nothing else in this foreign forest smelled at all like the Drakari's target.

The hunter twirled his weapon, skillfully allowing the flail's twin spike balls to swing dangerously close to his legs with each step. He followed the Fae's trail cautiously; if he was to succeed where his entire clan had failed, he would need to strike with both stealth and speed.