warrior, but he saw no sign of anyone who matched his own stature. Had he seen the shimmering feathers of an astral deva's seraphic wings, perhaps, or the smoking horns of a great baatezu lord, he might have waited. As matters stood, however, it seemed apparent that his business took precedence over that of anyone else in the foyer.
The Thrasson pushed straight through the looped line, issuing stem yet polite commands for those ahead to stand aside. The humans obeyed, of course, though it surprised him to note how many of them looked taken aback. Even in Sigil, it should have been obvious from his bearing and fine armor that he was a man of renown, beloved of the gods and deserving of all respect
When the Thrasson reached the khaasta, the reptilian suddenly raised its tail to block the way and craned its sinuous neck around to glare. The warrior's head was typically lacertilian: a flat wedge that was mostly snout, with a long, stupid grin and beady slit-pupiled eyes that betrayed no emotion at all.
'You wait like the ressst of ussssss, berk.'
The Thrasson regarded the tail. The thickness of a human leg, it was armored in leathery scales and braided with the rippling sinews of a race not far removed from the brute. The appendage was no match for the star-forged blade in the Thrasson's scabbard, but he had no wish to punish the khaasta so severely. He threw one leg over the tail, then forced the scaly appendage downward until he had it trapped between his knees.
'You would be wise to defer to your better.'
The khaasta's head began to bob in that angry lizard way, then its scaly hand dropped toward a broad manskin belt.
The Thrasson snapped his hips forward, trapping the tail behind one knee and before the other, then scissored his legs. With a sharp pop, the appendage kinked and went limp. The reptilian roared and produced a stiletto from its belt sheath, but with its broken tail still trapped between the Thrasson's legs, it was helpless to spin and attack.
At the head of the line, the old bariaur scowled and looked up from his ledger. 'Here now! What's all this?' He peered over his spectacles at the growling khaasta. 'People are working. If you can't be quiet, I'll ask you to leave.'
The khaasta quickly slipped his dagger out of sight. 'Assssk me to leave?' He pointed a single yellow talon at the Thrasson, who released his tail and continued to push toward the counter. 'That berk'sss the one who'sss shoving ahead!'
The bariaur studied the disheveled line, then turned his glower upon the advancing Thrasson. 'We have procedures in this hall. You'll have to stand in line like everyone else.'
'Do you not know me, old sir?' The Thrasson hipped aside a scowling dwarf and continued forward. 'Have you not heard of the slayer of the Hydra of Thrassos, the tamer of the Hebron Crocodile, the bane of Abudrian Dragons, the savior of the Virgins of Marmara…'
He reached the counter, and the bariaur leaned over his desk to scowl down. at the Thrasson, who continued to list his feats: '… the champion of Ilyrian Kings, the killer of the Chalcedon Lion-'
'No, I have not heard of you,' the bariaur interrupted, 'nor do I much care what you've done. If you can't comply with the rules, I'll have you removed.'
The clerk cast a meaningful glance toward the door. The two sentries now stood inside the foyer, glaring at the Thrasson as though they had expected trouble from him all along.
'What'ssss of me tail?' complained the khaasta. 'There'sss lawsss againssst the breaking of tailssss, there issss!'
The sentries nodded, more to each other than the khaasta, then snapped their glaives to the advance guard and started forward. The crowd parted to let them through, and the bariaur scowled down at the Thrasson.
'Is this true? Did you assault the reptilian?'
'I caused him no serious injury.' The Thrasson's tone was sharp, for it had been the khaasta who had wronged him. 'He dared block my path, and even you must see that my concerns take precedence here.'
The bariaur arched his brow, then raised a hand to stop the two sentries. 'Are you declaring an Emergency Priority?'
'If it means I am entitled not to wait, then yes.'
The bariaur licked his lips, then clasped his hands on his desk and leaned on his elbows. 'The proper procedure is to announce the Emergency Priority to the door guards, who will then certify that you have the proper funds and escort you to the front of the line, so as to create minimal disturbance and avoid unpleasant incidents such as the breaking of tails.' The clerk made a sour face and glanced at the khaasta, then looked back to the Thrasson. 'However, since you have already reached the counter, we will skip certification and proceed directly to collection. You may now present the fee.'
'Fee?'
'Ten gold pieces.' The bariaur's eyes grew large and menacing behind his spectacles. 'Otherwise, every sod who came through those doors would declare an Emergency Priority, would he not?'
When the Thrasson did not immediately produce the fee, the guards began to advance again. 'By order of the Hall of Speakers, false declaiming is a crime against the Lady's Order,' said the tallest one, who had spoken to the Thrasson before. 'Crimes against the Lady's Order are punishable by a sentence of not less than-'
'I have the fee!'
The Thrasson placed the amphora on the floor and balanced it against the counter with his leg, then opened his purse and counted out the gold. Ten gold coins would buy a lot of wine, but he could always get free wine back in Thrassos. He passed the coins up to the bariaur, who confirmed the count, entered the amount in his ledger, and dropped the coins into a slot on the surface of his bench.
'Do you want a receipt?'
'No. I want…'
The bariaur raised a finger to silence the Thrasson, then produced a large iron bell from behind his bench. He
