At Zul'Morak's arrogant invitation, Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. Just escaped one but had to deal with the two others...
With a sigh, he moved to the protracted stone table, sitting across from the two shamans. The fragrance of fat and spices from dozens of meat plates melded with the nutty aroma spilling from three large barrels of beer. A plate of fruit added much-needed sweetness to the overwhelming scents, but even that ended up drowned beneath rings of twirling smoke each time Zul'Morak and Zul'Rakhan blew from their wooden pipes.
They lowered beer horns and pipes, frowning at Bao on his shoulder. Adam used this silent moment to observe Zul'Morak's face. The hood lay on the shama's shoulder, and with it the darkness that had veiled his face.
