The dracons stepped back. Rebat was no expert at judging faces, but they did seem to look sorry to him. "No harm done," Rebat said, with a nervous smile. He looked down at his hand, already mangled from battles past, with the introduction of a solid red line. "Not much, at least. Cultural differences are a pain, are they not?" The dracons nodded solemnly, heads tilted towards the ground. "Now, honorable Mazdak, these fine soldiers have learned their lesson well enough. Send them on their way and they would not bother anyone more, isn't that right?" Again, a nod. The guards shuffled off under the steel gaze of their superior, going around the bend as quickly as they could. "Now . . . " Rebat said, feeling his snout where it was struck. "Let us make an agreement to never allow His Might to hear of this. He loves us so, and to hear of his ambassador being injured while in a dracon city would draw his ire like nothing before." He looked up at the large dracon, his expression brooking no argument. Not that there would be any. "Lovely sight, this city. I'm sure we could easily occupy our time until tomorrow."