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There had been quite a number of books in the Rogue Trader’s library, and with the hunting on the ship being *so limited* Marazhai had found himself with little else to do. He’d never considered himself a particularly prolific reader, but he was quite able to appreciate the power of accumulated knowledge.
It was in one of these books that he found the tradition of Sanguinalia. A quaint custom, this idea of giving gifts, but perhaps one he could work with. After all he needed something *truly* impressive for the mon’keigh archon (who would not allow him to use either of those terms, of course). To show off his power and strength and how useful of an ally he could be, of course. The rogue trader hadn’t seemed the type to properly appreciate the bloody flayed corpses of his enemies, or the many exquisite pain toys that his drukhari companion could create.
Perhaps…perhaps he could take him on a hunt? Nathaniel did enjoy hunting.
Marazhai continued reading. Many of the traditions seemed to revolve around various foods. Most of them didn’t interest him that much, but there were several that caught his eye for using either real or imitation blood. He wasn’t sure how to cook mon’keigh food himself, but he’d learned that servants were easily acquired.
Satsified with his plan, he sought out Janris Danrok, the rogue trader’s general arranger of such things, and conveyed his orders. "High Factotum. I need directions to an estate that has an abundance of cooks, and enough land to hold a suitable hunt for an archon."
Danrok kept his composure with the experience of long practice and decided he didn’t particularly want to know why. The drukhari wouldn’t explain anyway, and it probably wouldn’t add anything if he did. “I believe you’ll find the mountain estate of one Sir Albert Corban in the northwest quadrant of Dargonus to be more than suitable. They have quite an extensive set of kitchens, an enclosed outdoor dining area, and an estate in forested mountain terrain for hunts.” He did not mention that said cousin had been planning a family reunion that he had been seeking to avoid, of course.
Marazhai found his way to the estate, quickly scared off the family (under the Rogue Trader’s name, of course, although his *personality* certainly also contributed), and set to work ordering the terrified servants about. His reputation apparently preceded him, as he didn’t have to torture any of them at all to gain their compliance. He’d made several changes to the traditional Sanguinalia menu and accoutraments, of course \- something to make it much more fitting for the Rogue Trader.
As a final touch, he arranged for a variety of mutants, cultists, and hungry xenobeasts to be released into the nearby grounds.
Meanwhile, Nathaniel was up on the ship preparing for the Sanguinalia feast. The servants had been fussing over his clothing, somewhat to his annoyance. Picking over different shirts and jackets like he couldn’t dress himself, trying to ensure that he would be appropriately attired for the current court fashions of Dargonus.
“Sir, I have the shuttle ready for whenever you wish to to down to the planet. Your Drukhari companion has been quite busy overseeing the preparation.”
“Marazhai has been setting up a feast?”
“I believe he stated there was to be a hunt, in fact.”
Well, this might be interesting after all. He pulled on a hunting jacket and trousers in the von Valancius colors, and slung his rifle over his back, before heading down to the planet.
Marazhai was waiting for him on the ground underneath a massive tree of bones. Surprisingly they’d been largely cleaned of flesh, to the point where they shimmered lightly in the cold air, and draped around with bits of gleaming sharp metal. “I was told that trees are a traditional Sanguinalia custom. I assembled this one myself from the bones of your enemies. It’s a marked improvement over the regular ones, don’t you think?” The drukhari dropped to one knee as the Rogue Trader approached him.
Around him was spread a feast \- quite a feast \- featuring at the center what appeared to be a massive aspic containing the scene of Nathaniel and his retinue fighting their way out of Commoragh, done in delicate bits of meat and herbs and spices. Around was an entire bevvy of blood puddings, stuffed meat dishes carved to look like they were bleeding when cut open, and some sort of monstrous predatory bird spatchcocked and roasting over the fire stuck through with ribbons of red spices.
“It’s quite something,” Nathaniel agreed. “You made the tree yourself?”
“I did indeed, Rogue Trader.” The staff around had all bowed their heads in respect and fear and were watching this entertainment with fascination. “But perhaps you would like to enjoy the hunt first? I ensured the forest was well stocked so you wouldn’t be bored waiting for the guests to arrive.”
“Of course.” The pair set off into the chilly woods, away from the prying eyes of the staff.
“You know, I’m surprised that you bothered with such a human tradition.”
“Only the best for you, of course. A good feast should show your power and instill fear into everyone attending. We don’t have a proper arena yet, unfortunately, so I couldn’t set up any gladiatoral games.” Now that they were alone Marazhai dared to brush up against Nathaniel. “I hope the gift is impressive enough for your tastes.”
Nathaniel took the moment to take a shot at one of the lumbering, mutated creatures that passed by. “It’s quite impressive. I didn’t take you for wanting to engage with *mon’keigh* traditions.”
Marazhai made a scoffing noise. “There is a lot of time with nothing to do on your ship, so I availed myself of your library. I’d like to think I improved the tradition.”
“You did.” Nathaniel’s second shot brought the mutant down. “The bone tree is quite the statement.” He looked over at Marazhai almost fondly before pressing the butt of his gun into the drukhari’s chest, pressing him back against a tree. “You’ve done well today, pet.”
Marazhai shifted with an emotion that was hard to tell between discomfort and excitement. “Then you are pleased with me?” He leaned back against the hard trunk obediently, allowing his hands to fall away.
“I am. But I wonder if you read about the other traditions of what happens under trees at Sanguinalia?” Nathaniel leaned in towards Marazhai.
“I don’t believe I encountered that part…mmph\!” Marazhai made small protesting noises as Nathaniel leaned over to kiss him, but allowed the gesture. “I usually try not to read much of *mon’keigh* romantic traditions\!”
“Don’t get used to it,” Nathaniel assured him as he picked his rifle back up. “Shall we get back to the hunt?