Dragging your slave up the mountain to the smoke’s source, you come upon a surprising sight. It is a group of Bushmen, those men of slight stature and large buttocks who in years past fought valiantly to free your land from Zulu control. They are presently burning a sacred hetacomb of antelope.
The one who wears a shaman’s headdress speaks up.
Well met, man of Sotho. If you would like to join in our dance, and in the feast which comes after the sacrifice, you are welcome. We make this tribute to Soot, so that he may bless us with good hunts and high PPH.
Your slave, whose voice has long since left him from excessive screaming, is constantly emitting a hoarse, quiet groan.
What do you do?
