While the stray Tursin or even Manduri would do in a pinch, a man has needs above and beyond that primal need for a good roll in the hay. Yes, even the Cheeky Chanter needs a little cuddle time once in awhile. It was only a week ago that he had pounced an unsuspecting Lephar revolutionary, but after the screaming, moaning, and cat noises <don't ask> were over, all she wanted to do was talk politics. Treblak snuck away during some rant about over-throwing Sanctum.
Treblak didn't mind politics. He didn't mind governments, so long as they weren't too annoying and didn't ban anything important... like sodomy. But after a session of slap-and-tickle, he wasn't ready for debate.
It was tough finding good tail these days. Treblak had spent the last week on the shore, killing turtles, and following some rumor about ground turtle shell being an aphrodisiac. He'd already disproved the oysters after having lassoed one of the guards into a candle-lit dinner for two only to find that she was allergic to shell fish. He wound up spending the entire night healing her, and not in the way that he had intended.
Now the sun was setting, the water cooling, and Treblak's work was near it's close. After the oyster incident, Treblak was ordered to stay away from the guards, so he set off on an evening stroll, alone. He waded across the shallow waters and up the coast, toward the Tursin garrison. He couldn't get too close. After one too many Tursin brides, it turns out the husbands formed a support group. Several months of collections later, they put a rather large bounty on the Cheeky Chanter's head. It was fine though. Treblak pulled his helm down a little further, and walked slowly to his favorite ledge. From the rocks he could look down on the sparkling waters around the observatory.
