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You are beginning to tire. Suddenly Tanith reappears, leading a wizened old man who is shouting angrily in a strange language. At his command the Najin cease to attack, flying up into the air and off into the distance as swiftly as they came. ‘Fools!’ curses the old man, dropping to his knees by the body of a dead Najin. ‘My children, my eyes and ears,’ he moans bitterly. ‘They meant you no harm. I sent them out in greeting.’
‘Jnana,’ says Tanith, pleading. ‘They did not know; they did not understand.’
‘Why did you bring them here, Tanith?’ asks the blind, old man.
‘We seek the Lost Tribe of Lara,’ you say, humbly.
‘You seek your doom then,’ Jnana replies. ‘The way to the Azanam is fraught with peril. Go now, you are not welcome here.’
