JIKAILA 2 (ENGLISH)
Cluboux Cashais de Lymelles, Arondisset Blixoboure, Lesagaux, Etat Gysanne,
Settesdeuxelles Junio, Millesdeuxtroixcentesdeuxellessencque passe Lorn, onedeuxelles Ourq.
(Club of the Slave Catchers, District of Blixobour, City of Lesagaux, Gyznia, June 27, 2,325 to Lorn, 21st hour.)

"Your arrogance is extraordinary, my dear Dartagne."
"Arrogance, beautiful pligourette, is the prerogative of the capable and successful."
"Ha! You were incredibly lucky over in Fenlora. Everyone, I say, EVERYONE, with just a little bit of sense and wit, would have used the situation to their advantage."
Etienne Dartagne leaned back in his comfortable white leather armchair and said nothing. Bastalore Pligourette's jealousy and envy were almost proverbial, and there would have been little gain in trying to convince him.
For example, Etienne did not mention that the kidnapping of 25 beautiful Fenlorian shakeshas (merchants) from their private party in the back room of a benemus (inn) in Jedalestua  was only possible by adding a magic potion to their food. The potion, known in Gysania as Madamellestameurex, "Ladytamer," had made the same ladies lamb-like and helpless, so that they could be picked like flowers. Of course, the addition of the drink to the ladies' dish had only been possible for the cook, whom HE had happened to give. It was thanks to his exorbitant cooking skills that he was used as a kitchen slave in said Benemu at very short notice. The short-term assignment, in turn, was due to his outstanding seductive skills, with the help of which he had ensnared a slave trader of SHEGULLUMOL Jedalestu, loan slave Jedalestua, and made her his accomplice. Nor did he talk about the fact that it took certain acting talents and a good portion of nerves to play a slave in Fenlora, especially since Benemus's kitchen supervisor was probably bad on the evening in question.  she used her punishment baton all too often and eyed everything, including Etienne's cooking skills in action, with suspicious eyes. Etienne had ultimately had to add the blue-eyed blonde to the collection. He had instructed her to put her on a special diet that took into account her digestive problems. All in all, it was solely thanks to his manifold talents, unique in their combination, that he had succeeded in the action. The good Bastalore could only dream of such things. In addition, he only went out with a full dozen hairy hommes Memaloux (leather gays) on catch, while Etienne had also done this thing solo. "Mon Lorn! My fingernail is broken, just look, mes amieieux!" Bastalore Pligourette looked at the speaker, Joubert Astenboueff, dressed in pink and white, indignantly. "We are having a SERIOUS discussion here, beautiful Joubert. Please, keep your mouth closed and let us gag everyone who is too loose.”    matriarchal states, where every caught slave catcher was threatened with highly unpleasant and final punishments. And Etienne Dartagne was undeniably at the summit, no matter what Bastalore or others said. At only 26 years old, his reputation in the guild was already legendary, and Etienne considered it a special honor that he was at the top of the Zarijat Fenlora's wanted lists for slave catchers. In a land of androgynous and feminine men, completed by a community of tough, hairy leather guys, he was an inconspicuous appearance, his shoulder-length brown hair not lavishly treated with a curling iron, his eye area not made up unless he wanted it that way, and his clothes in muted colors and very practical and comfortable. Apart from that, he was of course a quick-change artist and actor of the first order, who could give both a small and slim, but still terribly narrow-minded Terkonnier, as well as more and had more than once portrayed a convincing Fenlora with somewhat harsh features, but not unattractive.
Geraldoux devoured the last piece of cake, dabbed his bulging, pale pink lips with a perfumed silk napkin, and joined the discussion.
"Dear Pligourette, my dear, undeniably Dartagne's last work was a mature achievement, worthy of his other great undertakings. Don't let envy put a blindfold on you."
"I'm NOT jealous. I would NEVER give in to such a low feeling. I have my own successes that fill me with great PRIDE."
"Sure, my beauty. Lym! Another mashma cake. A little more cream and drops this time, please. I pay a sinfully expensive club fee, there should be more than five drops in it."
The slave, dressed only in skimpy white leather briefs and knee-high white boots decorated with silver coins, a Rakizeshkin with a noble face and reddish skin, nodded eagerly and hurried away. The service of the house was excellent, but Etienne had never understood why a club for slave catchers employed male slaves.
Bastalore Pligourette put a cigarette in his mottled gray tip and still looked offended. Joubert Astenboueff fiddled with his broken nail and seemed unwilling to follow the conversation. Geraldoux turned his gaze away from the appetizing backside of the redskin and continued:
"Look, friends. Monsieur Dartagne is undoubtedly the best of our guild, despite his young age. But tell me, Etienne, can that still satisfy you? I think the time has come to go further. You are known, perhaps even famous, but if you want to become a real legend that people will remember in the distant future, you must erect a monument to yourself."
Etienne raised an eyebrow and drank of his wine.
"A monument? You think I should do the whole  should the whole of Tsariyat, including Zarija and all her legions, be abducted at once?" Pligourette giggled: "Phew, in the end you dare to do it. That borders on megalomania, Dartagne, MEGALOMANIA!" Geraldoux raised a fat, ringed finger. "Not quite, big Dartagne. But what if you repeat the Tour de Herculles?" "Why would he do that? Even I KNOW that he more than justifiably calls the master craftsman's certificate his own." That's what I mean, since even YOU got it, my dear Bastalore, Etienne thought amused. "Naturelement, the good Etienne should not repeat his test. No, he should complete a Tour de Herculles that is appropriate to his abilities. A real challenge, and as in legend, there are supposed to be twelve tasks that he has to master one after the other." Surprisingly, Joubert joined the conversation by stabbing Etienne with his sky-blue nail arrow and exclaiming: "That's a wonderful idea! Have fun    and adventure and a Dartagne on its frontiers! Do you accept, say, do you accept?" To be honest, Etienne actually felt more than a hint of weariness, and Geraldoux's idea ignited his imagination. Tour de Herculles – The Journey of Hercules – was traditionally called the master examination of slave catchers in Gysania. The phrase went back to an ancient story of a hero who had to capture and tame twelve beautiful, dangerous queens and witches in order to regain favor from Lorn, the phallocratic chief god. The legend existed in a modified form in the archphallocracy of Terkonnia, where the hero naturally had to slay twelve monsters in bloody slaughter. Etienne grimaced for a moment – these unimaginative barbarians. "All right, Geraldoux. That sounds interesting. I'm inclined to accept the challenge." "And we choose the missions and victims?" Bastalore took a drag on his cigarette holder, blew with a spit

   He exhaled smoke with pursed lips and could not suppress a truly malicious fine smile. "However, I ask for one condition." Geraldoux nodded to Etienne and smiled jovially. "Go ahead, Master Etienne, go ahead, let us hear." "I ask for the right to release the customers back into the wild after presenting them to you, if necessary." Joubert squealed in horror: "Ugh, humanity and sentimentality! It's just sluts, Dartagne, not people!" Etienne said nothing. Geraldoux received his new mashma cake from the red-skinned slave and began to count the milky banidrops embedded in the black susla cream. "Sure, dearest Etienne, it shouldn't fail because of that. There are enough slaves in the country, you should catch them and bring them here, then you can make them the Maharani of Udhya from me." Bastalore nodded, visibly thinking about the most dangerous and difficult tasks possible. Geraldoux, with the number of drops in the    Tasks. Geraldoux, apparently satisfied with the number of drops in the cake, dismissed the slave with a casual wave of his hand. "Nice. Since it was Monsieur Pligourette who doubted your abilities, he should give you the first task." "With pleasure. Hmhm... What are we going to take there?" Etienne smiled narrowly. If he was honest, he couldn't wait. If Bastalore just comes around the corner with something impossible – all the better.