“Hold on, not so fast” Fran-Gar stepped into the middle of the empty space, bordered by the lizardfolk of the tribe. If he wanted to keep his office he had to act as if him being the shaman was the most natural thing in the world, and he had to demonstrate that he knew the old rites and took them seriously.<br/><br/>Continuing in their native tongue, he hissed into the round around them “This is not just another brawl here, this is an old and sacred rite, a challenge for leadership, as as such it has rules that need to be followed – even if the challenger is just a warm blood.”<br/><br/>He picked two of the females he knew were capable of the task and ordered them “You two, get the drawing sticks from in front of my hut and carve the Ring of Proving into the ground. You” he turned to the warchief “know very well that nothing but a loincloth must be worn during the challenge. And you” he pointed to one of the stronger and meaner warriors of the tribe “make sure the warm blood is also clothed correctly. Fetch her a loincloth, and make sure she wears it, and only it.” Let's see how good that warm blood could fight with her two large meat bags flopping freely in front of her.<br/><br/>Meanwhile the females had returned, bringing two wooden sticks connected by a rope with them. One of them planted one stick in the middle of the clearing and held firmly onto it, while the other pulled the rope taut and then started to scrape it over the ground as she went one full circle.<br/><br/>Janica meanwhile could only watch. She had not understood the speech, and was a little perplexed as the warchief turned and hurried back to his hut. She also could not ask Sak-Bak without endangering their charade.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>