Author: Maglos
Title: Not very subtle, are you?
Date: 2010-12-28 10:35:30
Type: Logs
Synopsis: Thrend and a potential partisan run into a problem. Thrend, in his typical proud, selfish, and arrogant manner, decides to take matters into his own hands on the sly, using the disturbance to test that potential partisan and rid the City of one undesirable.

-------
Thrend arrives at the Sanctuary after being informed about some disturbance. (think this was in a previous log but I didn't dig it up)
-------

The Sun King's Sanctuary [NESWUD]
A polished, white marble floor covers the ground of this expansive
room, gleaming under the light of a large glass chandelier that hangs
overhead. A semi-circular bar, made of hard-grained wood painted a deep
black, extends from the eastern wall, several high-backed barstools sitting
around it. The walls of this room are brightly decorated, with several
elaborate paintings placed carefully for unobstructed view, and shelves
holding many exotic potted plants, blooming with bright red and white
flowers. Two large stained-glass windows, decorated with elaborate sun
symbols, adorn the northwest and southeast corners of the room.
Several decoratively carved tables fill this room, while a polished
leather couch nearly ten cords in length sprawls along the northern wall. A
stately spiral staircase sits in the center of the room, winding upwards
toward the common rooms of the second floor. The sounds of laughter and
music can be heard from a doorway along the western wall, while the scents
of cooked meat waft in from the east. A small, straight stairway sits along
the northern wall, ending at a slightly raised loft and a large carven
baobab door sits in the southern wall, leading out onto the North Road
outside.
The Tuluk bulletin board is here propped up on a stand.
The ochre-eyed, lissome man is standing here.
The weatherworn, fuzzy-haired old man is sitting on a supple, black leather couch.
The broad, harsh-looking woman is sitting at a black-painted bar.
The svelte, bronzed man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
The lithe, tanned man is standing here.
The short haired, heavy-set man stands here mug in-hand.
The tall, well-groomed man sits here on a plush couch.
The gaunt, black-haired man is here, leaning on the bar.
The plump, tawny-skinned woman sits on a stool, strumming on her mandolin.
The long-haired, middle-aged man stands behind the counter.
The burly, red-haired woman has arrived from the south.

You lower the hood of a hooded, mace-stitched grey linen cloak.

At 1) a supple, black leather couch are:
the weatherworn, fuzzy-haired old man, and a few empty seats.
At 2) a black-painted bar are:
the broad, harsh-looking woman, the svelte, bronzed man,
and some empty seats.
At 3) a long, white painted table are:
some empty seats.
At 4) an intimate, dimly lit table are:
a couple of empty seats.
At 5) a highly polished table are:
a few empty seats.


The lithe, tanned man nods politely to you.

In a hooded, mace-stitched grey linen cloak (used) :
a green chitin archery brace
a pile of coins


The broad, harsh-looking woman clenches and unclenches her fist, ignoring the lithe, tanned

man.


Heading to the stairs, the ochre-eyed, lissome man walks up.

The freckled, light-skinned man makes his way through the tavern, wrapping your hooded, mace-

stitched grey linen cloak more tightly around his form.


At a black-painted bar, the broad, harsh-looking woman speaks, to the svelte, bronzed man.

Easing down onto a stool, you sit at a black-painted bar.

The lithe, tanned man sits at a black-painted bar.

The broad, harsh-looking woman notices you and lowers her head to her, awkwardly.

The svelte, bronzed man inclines his head in a nod, respectfully, in your direction .

You are using:
inv
a black-scaled leather surmac
a black-scaled leather gorget
a new black-scaled leather longvest
a black-scaled leather vambrace
a leather and chitin strap-sheath
a pair of black leather and chitin scaled gauntlets
a slender crimson and silver ring
a ruby and moonstone inlaid, silver signet ring
a glossy, black leather swordbelt
a silver-etched, stone-spiked mace
a bloodied narrow-hilted, jaded khopesh blade
a hooded, mace-stitched grey linen cloak
a grey, black, and crimson silk sash
a pair of black-scaled leather leggings
a pair of black-scaled leather boots

You are carrying:

nothing.
Glancing down a black-painted bar, you look at the svelte, bronzed man.
This human male looks like he has lived a life in the wilderness.
He has scraggly hair hanging haphazardly to just about shoulder length. He is
above average height for his race, and seems to carry himself well, his
movements seeming natural, not laboured. His svelte figure is adorned with
many tattoos of random beasts. Bronzed all over, his muscles appear more
toned. His skin is hairless from neck to foot, no doubt due to his life in
the intense heat. His blue eyes bring his face to life, a playful
glint within.
The svelte, bronzed man is in excellent condition.

The svelte, bronzed man is using:
a tough tandu-leather cap
a blue and purple inked band
a long, agate-headed spear
a rough canvas backpack
a pair of carru leather sleeves
a scrab shell wristguard
a studded hide wrist-wrap
a tattoo of a six-pronged star
a hooded, sandy-brown reinforced sandcloth duster
a sweat-stained pair of sandcloth and leather leggings
a pair of grey hide boots

He is carrying:
nothing obvious


The broad, harsh-looking woman notices you and lowers her head to you, awkwardly.

It is early morning on Waleuk, the 160th day of the Ascending Sun,
In the Year of Suk-Krath's Anger, year 43 of the 21st Age.

At your table, you say in sirihish, lacing his gauntleted fingers together in his lap:
"Such a fine morning."


At your table, the broad, harsh-looking woman says in sirihish, turning her broad back towards

the lithe, tanned man:
"A real nice morning, Chosen Lord."


At your table, the lithe, tanned man says in sirihish, Nodding his head in agreement:
"Definitely so Chosen lord"


At your table, the broad, harsh-looking woman says in sirihish, to the svelte, bronzed man:
"Notice the Coward isn't speaking anymore?"


At your table, the lithe, tanned man says in sirihish, With a grin to you:
"I think someone needs a drink Chosen Lord"

The freckled, light-skinned man glances briefly over to the broad, harsh-looking woman and

then to the lithe, tanned man.


The svelte, bronzed man nods minimally.


The slim, golden-haired woman has arrived from the north.


At your table, the broad, harsh-looking woman says in sirihish, rolling her eyes:
"I'm trying."


The lithe, tanned man gives the long-haired, middle-aged bartender many coins in exchange for

a finely made glass goblet.


The lithe, tanned man offers his finely made glass goblet to you.

At your table, you say in sirihish, flicking his attention back to the lithe, tanned man:
"Aren't you a bit old to be cajoling folk into trying to kill you?"

He is older than you.
He is about the same size as you.
He weighs about the same as you.
The lithe, tanned man is in excellent condition.
The lithe, tanned man does not look tired.


Holding out his finely made glass goblet, the lithe, tanned man says to you, in sirihish:
"I was speaking of buying a drink for you Chosen Lord"


The broad, harsh-looking woman's eyes flick to you and she unclenches her fists.


The svelte, bronzed man nods in agreement.


The slender, tea-skinned male has arrived from the south, panting softly as #me steps through

the doorway.


The lithe, tanned man looks up at the slender, tea-skinned male.


The dark-blond, tall human has arrived from the south.

At your table, you say in sirihish, waving a hand in dismissive response to the lithe, tanned

man:
"No, thank you. I'm going to be training shortly."


The weatherworn, fuzzy-haired old man looks up at the dark-blond, tall human.


The slim, golden-haired woman runs north.


Pulling out a stool, the slender, tea-skinned male sits at a black-painted bar.


The dark-blond, tall human says to the slender, tea-skinned male, in sirihish:
"Hey there."


The dark-blond, tall human opens a dusty sizeable leather backpack.


The dark-blond, tall human closes a dusty sizeable leather backpack.


The dark-blond, tall human sits down at the bar.


The dark-blond, tall human sits at a black-painted bar.


The dark-blond, tall human looks at the slender, tea-skinned male.


Lips curling upwards as he bobs his head, the slender, tea-skinned male asks the dark-blond,

tall human, in sirihish:
"How goes?"


At your table, the dark-blond, tall human says in sirihish:
"Everythin' pretty normal, and yourself ?"


The lithe, tanned man shrugs his shoulders and downs his finely made glass goblet in one gulp.


The lithe, tanned man drinks reynolte-dry from his finely made glass goblet.


The dark-blond, tall human looks at the lithe, tanned man.


The lithe, tanned man looks at the dark-blond, tall human.


At your table, the slender, tea-skinned male says in sirihish, drawing a deep breath before

speaking:
"A'right... 'Tok out on th' road 'gain."


The dark-blond, tall human sheathes a dusty razor-edged, obsidian tomahawk.


The dark-blond, tall human sheathes a dusty one-handed, crescent-bladed axe.


Ignoring the lithe, tanned man, the broad, harsh-looking woman looks at the slender, tea-

skinned male.


At your table, the slender, tea-skinned male says in sirihish, shaking his head with a short

chuckle:
"Couldn' find m'spears, an' some skinny's followin' me 'round."


At your table, the lithe, tanned man says in sirihish, Looking down at the broad, harsh-

looking woman:
"Okay lady, maybe it's time we settled things, what do you want from me?"


The dark-blond, tall human looks at the broad, harsh-looking woman.


Slowly gazing down the bar, the slender, tea-skinned male looks at the svelte, bronzed man.


The weatherworn, fuzzy-haired old man chuckles, glancing towards the bar.


The dark-blond, tall human looks at the weatherworn, fuzzy-haired old man.


At your table, the broad, harsh-looking woman says in sirihish, narrowing her eyes at the

lithe, tanned man:
"You and I go somewhere noone's going to care, and I punch you until I feel better."


The svelte, bronzed man has lost link.
The svelte, bronzed man has reconnected.


The dark-blond, tall human chuckles quietly.

The freckled, light-skinned man smirks ever so slightly.


At your table, the dark-blond, tall human says in sirihish, to the broad, harsh-looking woman:
"What's the problem ?"


The svelte, bronzed man nods affirmatively.


At your table, the svelte, bronzed man says in sirihish:
"That's the only reasonable solution I can see. "


The dark-blond, tall human looks at the svelte, bronzed man.


At your table, the broad, harsh-looking woman says in sirihish, to the dark-blond, tall human:
"I'm going to make him bleed. No problem."


The broad, harsh-looking woman looks at the dark-blond, tall human.


At your table, the dark-blond, tall human says in sirihish:
"Yeah, but why ?"


At your table, the lithe, tanned man says in sirihish, Shrugging his shoulders:
"I was out in the woods and she tried to take my sid"


At your table, the lithe, tanned man says in sirihish:
"I wouldn't give it up, she got mad, here we are"


At your table, the dark-blond, tall human says in sirihish, with a frown:
"Is that so ?"


At your table, the broad, harsh-looking woman says in sirihish, after looking him over:
"After I kick him in the balls I few times, I'll tell you."


The dark-blond, tall human looks at the lithe, tanned man.


The dark-blond, tall human looks at the broad, harsh-looking woman.


At your table, the dark-blond, tall human says in sirihish, to the lithe, tanned man:
"You're a woodworker ?"


At your table, the broad, harsh-looking woman says in sirihish, narrowing eyes at the lithe,

tanned man:
"Coward, don't lie. You called me stupid, then have taunted me since."


Raising a brow, the slender, tea-skinned male looks at the broad, harsh-looking woman.


At your table, the svelte, bronzed man says in sirihish, to the lithe, tanned man:
"Was this before or after you insulted her mother?"


The dark-blond, tall human stands up from a black-painted bar.


At your table, the lithe, tanned man says in sirihish:
"this was very much before"


The dark-blond, tall human says, in sirihish:
"Fuck, I gotta leave."
The dark-blond, tall human walks up.


At your table, the broad, harsh-looking woman says in sirihish, to the lithe, tanned man:
"Well, Coward? We going somewhere?"


At your table, the svelte, bronzed man says in sirihish:
"And before you called her fat?"


At your table, the lithe, tanned man says in sirihish:
"this was before i called her fat also"


The broad, harsh-looking woman opens a rough canvas backpack.


At your table, the svelte, bronzed man says in sirihish, nodding:
"I see."


The broad, harsh-looking woman gets her small portion of a travel cake from her rough canvas

backpack.


The broad, harsh-looking woman eats her small portion of a travel cake.


The broad, harsh-looking woman closes a rough canvas backpack.


At your table, the broad, harsh-looking woman says in sirihish:
"And when you stole my shield?"


At your table, the lithe, tanned man says in sirihish, Raising an eyebrow:
"You mean the shield that I picked up after you tried to hit me with it and the same one

that neck ran off with?"


At your table, the lithe, tanned man says in sirihish, Looking over at the svelte, bronzed

man:
"All I was trying to do was take a rest in the woods and this is the result"


At your table, the broad, harsh-looking woman says in sirihish, frowning:
"I tried to put you in a headlock when you were laughing at me, you idiot."

At your table, you say in sirihish, shifting his attention back to the lithe, tanned man and

the broad, harsh-looking woman:
"It seems that you two wish to resolve the matter."


At your table, the broad, harsh-looking woman says in sirihish, after a sigh:
"Sorry, Chosen Lord. I'm trying...I really am..."


At your table, the lithe, tanned man says in sirihish:
"I personally have nothing to do with her, I am just trying to find out what her problem

is"


At your table, you say in sirihish, blinking at the lithe, tanned man:
"Then resolve the matter. Stop insulting the woman like a Southron, it is unbecoming."


At your table, the broad, harsh-looking woman says in sirihish, to the lithe, tanned man:
"Come on then. I'll never talk to you again after I pummel you for a while."


At your table, the lithe, tanned man says in sirihish, Glancing over at you:
"She only wishes to resort to violence and violence mind you for something she started,

I personally want her to stay out of my affairs, before you came in, she was the one taunting

me"


At your table, the lithe, tanned man says in sirihish:
"see what I mean?"


At your table, the broad, harsh-looking woman says in sirihish, to the svelte, bronzed man:
"Was I?"


At your table, you say in sirihish, peering at the lithe, tanned man, then the broad, harsh-

looking woman:
"Alright. Both of you, come with me. I have the solution."


Rising to his feet, you stand up from a black-painted bar.



The lithe, tanned man stands up from a black-painted bar.


The broad, harsh-looking woman stands up from a black-painted bar.


The broad, harsh-looking woman falls in behind you.


With a subtle smirk, the slender, tea-skinned male looks up at the lithe, tanned man.


The freckled, light-skinned man lets out a longsuffering sigh and glances back to a black-

painted bar.


You raise the hood of a hooded, mace-stitched grey linen cloak.


North Road [NESW]
The stark white of this wide stone road lies nestled between the rise
and fall of a conglomerated jumble of eclectically styled buildings.
Passing through the city, the road is kept clean of any blowing sand and
forest debris. The pale backbone cuts a decisive line east across the
bustling metropolis towards what remains of the Old City.
The pale white of the road merges with a newer road just to the east.
Further in the distance, the crumbled ruins of the old city can be seen
rising up above the newer walls that have been built up around them. Set on
the north side of the road is a large two-story tavern. On the south side
of the road is a large wagon yard.
A down-trodden group of Allanaki refugees shuffles down the road.
The lanky, russet-haired lad lounges by the tavern.
The wiry, obsidian-haired Jihaen templar is standing here.
The broad, harsh-looking woman has arrived from the north.
The burly, red-haired woman has arrived from the north.


The lithe, tanned man has arrived from the north.


The lithe, tanned man falls in behind you.


The svelte, bronzed man has arrived from the north.

North Salt Road [NSW]
Rows of pale stones form the backbone for this broad avenue, settled
into the ground with graceful fervor. Decorating the edge of the street,
the buildings and storefronts are universally adorned with garish and tawdry
sculptures, bas reliefs, and murals. The road is filled with a continual
throng of humans and demi-humans alike as they scurry about the bustle of
daily life.
The sounds of a rowdy commotion spills out onto the streets from the
building to the west. A trio of humanoid sculptures are caught before the
junction between two roads, the crowds passing around them. An odd-looking
sculpture surrounds a stone bench off to one side of the road.
The tawny, blonde-haired woman strolls down the street, eyes bright.
A few colorful individuals sit in a circle on the street corner, drumming.
The lithe, tanned man has arrived from the west.
The broad, harsh-looking woman has arrived from the west.
The burly, red-haired woman has arrived from the west.


The Red Sun Commons [NESW]
The chaotic roar of the tumultuous clamor within the commons fills the
air with a constant din, building into a flooding crescendo as deals are
bartered. Throngs of humans and demi-humans flock from one multi-colored
tent to another, ducking in and between the various stands that have been
erected along the breadth of the commons. Craftsmen and tradesmen alike
wander the sandstone grounds, mingling themselves with the rest in search of
opportunity. The scents of the commons, myriad and varied in their potency
and origins, mingle together to create a somewhat acrid and sweaty feel to
the atmosphere.
A mound of dung, heaped shoulder high, stands here.
A sour-faced dwarf hunches here, buying dung.
The lithe, tanned man has arrived from the north.
The broad, harsh-looking woman has arrived from the north.
The burly, red-haired woman has arrived from the north.


The Red Sun Commons [ESW]
The chaotic roar of the tumultuous clamor within the commons fills the
air with a constant din, building into a flooding crescendo as deals are
bartered. Throngs of humans and demi-humans flock from one multi-colored
tent to another, ducking in and between the various stands that have been
erected along the breadth of the commons. Craftsmen and tradesmen alike
wander the sandstone grounds, mingling themselves with the rest in search of
opportunity. The scents of the commons, myriad and varied in their potency
and origins, mingle together to create a somewhat acrid and sweaty feel to
the atmosphere.
The lithe, tanned man has arrived from the east.
The broad, harsh-looking woman has arrived from the east.
The burly, red-haired woman has arrived from the east.

As he slows to a stop in the Commons, you say, in sirihish:
"Alright. Here's what I propose."

You look at the lithe, tanned man.
This man is of very average height with his hair at a length no longer
than the bottom of his ears. His skin is rather unremarkable, lightly
tanned from exposure to the sun and slightly smooth. His eyes are a dull
brown with no outstanding features and set evenly in his head beneath rather
neatly groomed eyebrows. His hair is a dark black blend with streaks of
grey running through it. His body is lithe and lightly muscled, resembling
the normal Zalanthan human physique.
The lithe, tanned man is in excellent condition.

The lithe, tanned man is using:
a long-handled, flint lumber axe
a sizeable leather backpack
a blue and purple inked band
an unlit large wooden torch
a hooded, black sandcloth windcloak
a pair of rough canvas pants
a pair of grey hide boots

He is carrying:
nothing obvious


The broad, harsh-looking woman stands apart from the lithe, tanned man, eyes on you.


The svelte, bronzed man has arrived from the east.

You say to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"The woman here wishes to challenge you, so I suggest you both oblige each other and beat

on each other until one or both parties are satisfied."


The svelte, bronzed man keeps his distance.


With a frown, the lithe, tanned man says, in sirihish:
"That's what she wants, I want her to stop her violence toward me"


The mighty sun begins to crawl across the western sky.

You say to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"As it's not appropriate to do this just anywhere, I suggest on the grounds of my Estate

in the sparring yard."


The broad, harsh-looking woman smiles at the lithe, tanned man.


Nodding, the broad, harsh-looking woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Sounds fair to me, Chosen Lord."

The svelte, bronzed man frowns.


The weatherworn, fuzzy-haired old man has arrived from the east.


The lithe, tanned man says, in sirihish:
"she has assaulted me three times, I'd say she has more than had her turn"


Looking him up and down, the weatherworn, fuzzy-haired old man looks at the lithe, tanned man.


Rolling her eyes, the broad, harsh-looking woman says to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"I'll just use my fists."


Nodding agreeably, the svelte, bronzed man says, in sirihish:
"Seems like the only solution."


The weatherworn, fuzzy-haired old man glances at you, inclining his head as he does.

Quirking a brow curiously, you ask the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"do you taunt bahamets?"

You ask the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"And then complain afterwards when they rip into your organs?"


The svelte, bronzed man grins.


The lithe, tanned man says, in sirihish:
"I disagree with the solution since it is only fair for one party, besides, she did her

fair share of taunting"

Lifting his linen clad shoulders in a shrug, you ask the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"You disagree with -my- solution?"

Staring at the lithe, tanned man with a deep frown, you ask the lithe, tanned man, in

sirihish:
"Are you aware of where you are, citizen?"


The broad, harsh-looking woman folds her muscular arms, watching the lithe, tanned man.


With a nod, the lithe, tanned man says to you, in sirihish:
"Aye Chosen Lord, I am aware of where I am, but if the Law is to be just and fair, then

hauling off citizens at your whim because of another party that has no claim"

Narrowing his pale green eyes on the lithe, tanned man, you say to the lithe, tanned man, in

sirihish:
"This is not the first time you have deemed yourself wiser than His Chosen. And where

you are is, in point of fact, the Red Sun Commons."


The broad, harsh-looking woman looks with shock at the lithe, tanned man.


The lithe, tanned man says, in sirihish:
"then surely we are no better than living in the south"


A foreign presence contacts your mind.


The weatherworn, fuzzy-haired old man sends you a telepathic message:
"This fella... well he ain't too smart, but I guess you can see that."


The figure in a hooded, mace-stitched grey linen cloak smiles politely over at the lithe,

tanned man.


You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

Beckoning with one hand, you say to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"You've got quite a bit of spunk for a citizen. I think I can use people like that."


The lithe, tanned man moves closer to you.

Waving her off, you say to the broad, harsh-looking woman, in sirihish:
"He's quite right, Rosie. You should certainly stop taunting him."

You stop leading the broad, harsh-looking woman.


The svelte, bronzed man looks shocked.


The broad, harsh-looking woman nods to you.

Stepping lightly, you say to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"We'll head to the Lyksaen Estate. I'll get you outfitted properly."

------
Thrend takes the "potential partisan" to the Estate. The follow conversation occurs on the way there.
------

You suffer from use of the Way.
You contact the broad, harsh-looking woman with the Way.


Glancing back to the lithe, tanned man, you ask the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"You don't already have employment with some other patron, do you, Omanet?"


The late, red sun descends toward the western horizon.
The red orb of Jihae, the red moon, begins to vanish as it slowly sets.
The pale face of the white moon, Lirathu, rises over the agafari trees.


You send this message to the staff:
"Just an FYI, Thrend is going to have Rosie beat the hell out of Omanet inside the

Lyksaen Estate, and then let him disappear quietly."

You send this message to the staff:
"I would have just gone for the "beat the hell out of Omanet" but he has insulted His

Chosen in front of many witnesses. That's a no-no."


Lowering his shoulders, the lithe, tanned man says to you, in sirihish:
"I hope I have not offended you Chosen Lord"

Tugging down his hood, you ask the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"Offended me? How could you have offended me?"

You lower the hood of a hooded, mace-stitched grey linen cloak.

Pausing before the gates, you ask the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"You do realize, however, that speaking such things in public--outright against His

Chosen and His City--are not to be done, yes?"


The lithe, tanned man glances around him.

Sheisett's Plaza [NEW]
Here, massive gates lead out of Tuluk's Noble's Quarter. The road has
been laid by a circular pattern of white alabaster and red jasper stones,
creating a massive work of art that portrays a blazing sun. The gates
themselves, lying at the north end of the circle, are made of a
crisscrossing pattern of polished agafari, both attractive and
extraordinarily sturdy. The pattern formed by the gates' wood ends at the
top by curved spires, blackened at their tops.
The lithe, tanned man has arrived from the north.
The burly, red-haired woman has arrived from the north.


Nodding as he speaks, the lithe, tanned man says to you, in sirihish:
"Aye Chosen Lord, I do understand"


Dipping his head agreeably, you ask the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"Are you familiar with the Red Sun Commons?"

Lowering his head as he speaks, the lithe, tanned man says to you, in sirihish:
"I do admit that I have erred"
Nodding his head, the lithe, tanned man says, in sirihish:
"Aye, I am familiar with the commons"

You suffer from use of the Way.


Gesturing grandly towards the gates to the south, you ask the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"And here we are, the Lyksaen Estate. Have you been here before, Omanet?"

You suffer from use of the Way.
You send a telepathic message to the broad, harsh-looking woman:
"Find my mind when you are near the gates, Rosie."

The lithe, tanned man looks up toward the gates in awe.

His face lighting up, the lithe, tanned man says, in sirihish:
"I have not Chosen Lord"

You suffer from use of the Way.

You think:
"Rosie will kill him, I'm fairly sure."

You think:
"A good way to prove herself, too."

Nodding once, you say to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"Well. I'll show you about the Courtyard."

The burly, mohawked man stops using his etched, red stone key.
The burly, mohawked man unlocks the gates with an etched, red stone key.
The burly, mohawked man opens the gates.
The burly, mohawked man steps aside, allowing you to pass.
The Courtyard of House Lyksae [NEW]
The overall impression of this courtyard is one of greyness, as that
color has been used in the stones forming the walls to the east, west, and
south. To the north is a gate of charred bone, offering a slightly
contrasting shade of grey, as well as the occasional glimpse of a more
colorful world beyond it. Even the landscaping, such as it is, is grey,
with stout short bushes at each of the courtyard's four corners. The focal
point in all this greyness is a statue at the center of the courtyard,
surrounded by a series of lightening circles of stones, the centermost being
black, and those at the edge being a pale dun.
To the west, a door leads into the manor house, inset with a panel of
bright crimson silk in the shape of a rising sun. To the east, through a
door painted with a mace, is a more humble building.
A sizable stone building has been built against the southern wall.
A muscular man, sculpted life-size from granite, stands here triumphantly.
The weathered, burly-armed man stands watch at the gates.
The lithe, tanned man has arrived from the north.
The burly, red-haired woman has arrived from the north.
The burly, mohawked man closes the gates from the other side.

You suffer from use of the Way.

The lithe, tanned man looks back as the large mohawked man closes the gates behind him.

A foreign presence contacts your mind.

The broad, harsh-looking woman sends you a telepathic message:
"I'm there now, Chosen Lord."

You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

Clearing his throat, you ask the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"Different regions of His City are governed by His Chosen--were you aware of that?"

You send a telepathic message to the broad, harsh-looking woman:
"I'll get you inside shortly."

You dissolve the psychic link.

You suffer from use of the Way.
You are unable to reach their mind.

You suffer from use of the Way.
You are unable to reach their mind.

Shrugging his shoulders, the lithe, tanned man says to you, in sirihish:
"I was aware of that but not exactly who is in charge of where"

Dipping his head, you say to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"I'm the Governor of the Red Sun Commons."

Nodding his head as he speaks, the lithe, tanned man says, in sirihish:
"I see now"


The last spire fades to darkness as Suk-Krath abandons the city to night.

Pursing his lips thoughtfully, you say to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"And you called His City no better than the South."


Wrinkling his brow, the lithe, tanned man says to you, in sirihish:
"Begging your pardon Chosen Lord, but I was actually saying that in context, relating to

my prior comment concerning the young lady in question"

You say to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"Well, I am a man with many solutions, for many problems. Hold here for just a moment,

good citizen."

You stop leading the lithe, tanned man.

The weathered, burly-armed man stops using his etched, red stone key.
The weathered, burly-armed man unlocks the gates with an etched, red stone key.
The weathered, burly-armed man opens the gates.
The weathered, burly-armed man steps aside, allowing you to pass.
Before the Gates of House Lyksae [ES]
Lengthy slabs of mekillot bone have been laced together with woven
ropes of kylori sinew to create an imposing and austere set of gates that
bar movement to the south. The tips of the bone slabs have been hewn to
sharpened protrusions and blackened with fire, creating a churning swirl of
sooty black that cascades down the length of the bleached bone.
The azure and amber of the granite paving stones form a broad circle
before the gates of the estate, twining around in ever-decreasing spirals.
Circling this courtyard are stands of loreshi shrubs that lend a darker and
more earthen contrast to the outer ring of the plaza.
Secured to the wall by a wooden frame is a fire-scorched copper wardrum.
The broad, harsh-looking woman stands here to the side.
The burly, mohawked man stands staunchly before the gate.
The burly, red-haired woman has arrived from the south.
The weathered, burly-armed man closes the gates from the other side.

The freckled, light-skinned man beckons to the broad, harsh-looking woman.

Simply, you say to the broad, harsh-looking woman, in sirihish:
"Keep your temper in check."

You think:
"...how to -do- this?"


The broad, harsh-looking woman falls in behind you.


The broad, harsh-looking woman nods to you.

The burly, mohawked man stops using his etched, red stone key.
The burly, mohawked man unlocks the gates with an etched, red stone key.
The burly, mohawked man opens the gates.
The burly, mohawked man steps aside, allowing you to pass.
The Courtyard of House Lyksae [NEW]
The overall impression of this courtyard is one of greyness, as that
color has been used in the stones forming the walls to the east, west, and
south. To the north is a gate of charred bone, offering a slightly
contrasting shade of grey, as well as the occasional glimpse of a more
colorful world beyond it. Even the landscaping, such as it is, is grey,
with stout short bushes at each of the courtyard's four corners. The focal
point in all this greyness is a statue at the center of the courtyard,
surrounded by a series of lightening circles of stones, the centermost being
black, and those at the edge being a pale dun.
To the west, a door leads into the manor house, inset with a panel of
bright crimson silk in the shape of a rising sun. To the east, through a
door painted with a mace, is a more humble building.
A sizable stone building has been built against the southern wall.
A muscular man, sculpted life-size from granite, stands here triumphantly.
The weathered, burly-armed man stands watch at the gates.
The lithe, tanned man is standing here.
The broad, harsh-looking woman has arrived from the north.
The burly, red-haired woman has arrived from the north.
The burly, mohawked man closes the gates from the other side.


Turning her attention towards him, the broad, harsh-looking woman looks down at the lithe,

tanned man.


The lithe, tanned man looks up at the broad, harsh-looking woman.

Pointing over to the broad, harsh-looking woman, you say to the lithe, tanned man, in

sirihish:
"This is Rosie. I believe you two have met."

The lithe, tanned man says, in sirihish:
"we have been acquainted a few times, yes"


The broad, harsh-looking woman's eyes narrow on the lithe, tanned man but she says nothing.

You ask the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"You said things were not fair. Well, who determines what is fair?"

You stop leading the burly, red-haired woman.


The lithe, tanned man says to you, in sirihish:
"I guess it depends on who is in charge Chosen Lord"

Nodding in agreement with the lithe, tanned man, you ask the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"And who, precisely, is in charge?"

You ask the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"I think it fair for both of you to have your conflict and be done with it. Am I not a

fair Chosen Lord?"


Nodding as he speaks and looking around the courtyard, the lithe, tanned man says to you, in

sirihish:
"from where I stand Chosen Lord, that would be you"

You think:
"Patience, Thrend. Perhaps he can be useful somehow besides dying."


Dropping his arms, the lithe, tanned man says to you, in sirihish:
"She is free to have her conflict chosen Lord, I tire of her constant attacks, but I

will not fight her"


The broad, harsh-looking woman looks about to say something then closes her mouth firmly.

Quirking a shaped eyebrow at the lithe, tanned man, you say to the lithe, tanned man, in

sirihish:
"And why not? You have instigated the entire ordeal."


The night has begun.

You say to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"You wish to fight like a Southron--hurl blunt insults as though they are weapons, then

hide behind false claims when the seeds you have sown have grown into an unmanageable mess."

You say to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"Oh, His City is -very- fair, indeed, Omanet. And very different from the South--for,

had you been in the South, you would have been slain outright for slandering the very City you

live in."


The lithe, tanned man says to you, in sirihish:
"I will not dispute your words Chosen Lord, however I still stand behind the fact that

there are other factors at work that noone is willing to listen to"


The lithe, tanned man says to you, in sirihish:
"Let us have this be done with Chosen Lord, let us let herhave her way, I am man enough

to face consequences"

Dipping his head, you say to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"Indeed. I think that would be appropriate."


The lithe, tanned man says to the broad, harsh-looking woman, in sirihish:
"have your way woman, I won't fight you"

You say, in sirihish:
"Come with me, you will square off in the yard."


The broad, harsh-looking woman looks to the lithe, tanned man and shrugs.

Glancing distastefully to a life-sized granite statue of a muscular man, you say, in sirihish:
"I will not have blood spilled or violence done beneath this memorial."

An Orderly Mess Hall [EW]
Everything in this cooking and dining area has been arranged with
military precision, tall baobab cabinets standing at attention on either
side of the cooking ovens. Sturdy baobab benches are in precise formation
with their matching tables, which are in turn squared off on the northern
side of the room. But although there is not a single touch of disorder
about the place, it is not precisely clean, either, being tinged with smoke
from the cooking and curing of food.
A couple of sturdy baobab tables are here.
A sturdy baobab tun is full of clean drinking water.
The smoke-smudged, wide-eyed young woman stands before the stoves here.
The broad, harsh-looking woman has arrived from the west.


The broad, harsh-looking woman narrows her eyes at the lithe, tanned man.

Beckoning briefly, you say to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"Come laong."


The lithe, tanned man falls in behind you.

A Dimly Lit Barracks [NWD Quit Save]
This windowless room is relatively cool and dim, although a bit
stuffy. Earthy scents waft into it from the adjoining rooms: smoke and
victuals from the mess hall to the west, and dust and sweaty bodies through
the doorway to the north. Hammocks are strung from the rafters and support
beams, each slightly personalized by an article of clothing or some personal
effect. At the head of each hammock hangs a thick woven-grass net in which
additional belongings are stowed. In the southeast corner, beside a table,
a trapdoor leads down into the ground.
A thick rug of quirri hide is here laid out near the hammocks.
A plain chest of maroon baobab hardwood sits here.
An elongated, heavy trunk made of agafari lies here.
A simple wooden chest sits here on the floor.
The stern, iron-braided woman watches over the trapdoor.
The slim, porcelain-skinned maiden sits behind a needle-covered table.
The lithe, tanned man has arrived from the west.
The broad, harsh-looking woman has arrived from the west.


A Covered Training Yard [SU Save]
This spacious yard is walled in on all four sides, with a door leading
into the building to the south. Hard-packed reddish sand forms the ground
here, dusty and stained in spots with what might be blood. At the center of
the yard is a circle lined in granite tiles marking out the main sparring
area, but officers can be seen giving private instruction outside this area.
Overhead, a series of wooden catwalks provide a measure of shade while also
serving as a vantage point for the guards that patrol them.
A shadow falls over the area, driving off the uncomfortable heat.
An empty hefty wooden barrel sits here.
A dwarf sized chunk of raw salt is here.
A couple of simple wooden chests are here off in a far corner of the yard, away from the

sparring area.
An elongated, heavy trunk made of agafari lies here.
The lithe, tanned man has arrived from the south.
The broad, harsh-looking woman has arrived from the south.

In a heavy agafari trunk (here) :
a new hammer-carved wooden shield
a couple of short bone sparring swords
a short bone sparring spear
an used round tortoiseshell shield
a long wooden-bladed training halberd
a couple of wood-bladed training staves
several slim wooden training daggers
some wooden training longswords
a few slim wooden training clubs
a few slim wooden training axes

l in chest
In a simple wooden chest (here) :
an untanned rough, mangy hide
some long lengths of bone


You are carrying:

nothing.


The broad, harsh-looking woman looks from the lithe, tanned man to you.

Nodding towards an empty ring of sand, you say, in sirihish:
"Enjoy yourselves. It seems both of you have a lot to learn."

The freckled, light-skinned man stands stoically by a dwarf sized jagged boulder of salt.


Moving out further into the yard, the broad, harsh-looking woman asks the lithe, tanned man,

in sirihish:
"Why will my life be numbered in moments?"


The broad, harsh-looking woman stops using her open sleeveless robe.

You begin watching the broad, harsh-looking woman.


The lithe, tanned man moves out into the yard with a grin on his face.


Tossing it to the ground at the edge of the circle, the broad, harsh-looking woman drops her

open sleeveless robe.

You think:
"Hmm. She needs to learn to be more subtle."

You think:
"Definitely."

You think:
"But...she does have that violent spirit. And that is something we need."


Watching him with narrowed eyes as she stretches, the broad, harsh-looking woman asks the

lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"Only speaking in my mind?"


The lithe, tanned man whispers something to the broad, harsh-looking woman.


Pushing the lithe, tanned man away, the broad, harsh-looking woman says to the lithe, tanned

man, in sirihish:
"Speak louder."


The broad, harsh-looking woman balls up her fists, approaching the lithe, tanned man.


The lithe, tanned man drops his fists to his side.

With a heavy sigh, you say to the lithe, tanned man, in sirihish:
"The other difference in the South and His City that I'm afraid you're unfamiliar with is

that no one will ever find out what happened to you. Before you insulted -me-, you had a

chance."


The broad, harsh-looking woman swings just after you speaks.


The broad, harsh-looking woman attacks the lithe, tanned man.
The broad, harsh-looking woman hits the lithe, tanned man, barely grazing his body.


The broad, harsh-looking woman hits the lithe, tanned man, barely grazing his body.
The broad, harsh-looking woman swiftly dodges the lithe, tanned man's hits.


The lithe, tanned man swiftly dodges the broad, harsh-looking woman's hits.


The broad, harsh-looking woman stops attacking the lithe, tanned man.


The broad, harsh-looking woman swiftly dodges the lithe, tanned man's hits.

Dipping his head towards her, you say to the broad, harsh-looking woman, in sirihish:
"And you have a lot to learn, as well, partisan. You should not have stated your

intentions."


The lithe, tanned man drops an unlit large wooden torch.


The broad, harsh-looking woman swiftly dodges the lithe, tanned man's hits.
The broad, harsh-looking woman swiftly dodges the lithe, tanned man's hits.


The broad, harsh-looking woman swiftly dodges the lithe, tanned man's hits.
The broad, harsh-looking woman swiftly dodges the lithe, tanned man's hits.


The broad, harsh-looking woman looks towards you and nods, before swinging again at the lithe,

tanned man.


The broad, harsh-looking woman hits the lithe, tanned man, barely grazing his foot.


The broad, harsh-looking woman hits the lithe, tanned man, barely grazing his body.


The broad, harsh-looking woman hits the lithe, tanned man, barely grazing his leg.


The lithe, tanned man unslings a long-handled, flint lumber axe from his back.


The broad, harsh-looking woman hits the lithe, tanned man, barely grazing his body.
The lithe, tanned man's eyes roll back in his head.
A long-handled, flint lumber axe clatters to the ground as the lithe, tanned man releases it.
The lithe, tanned man crumples to the ground.


The broad, harsh-looking woman scowls, knocking out the lithe, tanned man as him unstraps a

long-handled, flint lumber axe.

As he inspects the lithe, tanned man, you say to the broad, harsh-looking woman, in sirihish:
"Not a bad form, for using no weapons."


Standing over top of you, the broad, harsh-looking woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Thank you, Chosen Lord."


The broad, harsh-looking woman says, out of character:
"oops"

Crossing his arms and staring at the broad, harsh-looking woman, you say to the broad, harsh-

looking woman, in sirihish:
"He is yours. Tell me what must be done to this one."


Looking down at the lithe, tanned man, the broad, harsh-looking woman says to you, in

sirihish:
"He told me that I should run to the south, he would have me killed."


The broad, harsh-looking woman looks down at the lithe, tanned man.


The broad, harsh-looking woman reaches down to pick up the lithe, tanned man by his hair.


Looking over, the broad, harsh-looking woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I think he's talking from his ass. But, who knows."


The broad, harsh-looking woman swings her fist at the lithe, tanned man again.


The broad, harsh-looking woman attacks the lithe, tanned man.
The broad, harsh-looking woman hits the lithe, tanned man on his head.

Dipping his head in agreement, you ask the broad, harsh-looking woman, in sirihish:
"We'll need to dispose of the body when you have killed him. You will need to learn to

think on your feet--so tell me, what happened to this man?"


The broad, harsh-looking woman takes the lithe, tanned man by the hair again, looking over at

you.

You ask the broad, harsh-looking woman, in sirihish:
"He ran off on the way to my Estate, and I did not see him again, did I?"


Balling her fist once more, the broad, harsh-looking woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I don't think anyone saw him again, Chosen Lord."


The broad, harsh-looking woman attacks the lithe, tanned man.
The broad, harsh-looking woman solidly hits the lithe, tanned man's head.


The broad, harsh-looking woman grins down at the lithe, tanned man before unstrapping her

stone-studded baobab flail.


The broad, harsh-looking woman draws a stone-studded baobab flail.


The broad, harsh-looking woman stops using her curved agafari shield.


The broad, harsh-looking woman brandishes her stone-studded baobab flail in both hands.


Raising her stone-studded baobab flail, the broad, harsh-looking woman says to you, in

sirihish:
"May want to step back, Chosen Lord."

You say to the broad, harsh-looking woman, in sirihish:
"A better option would have been to pretend that you were not angry with him, earlier."


her Stone-studded baobab flail raised, the broad, harsh-looking woman says to you, in

sirihish:
"I tried. I did."


The broad, harsh-looking woman attacks the lithe, tanned man.
The broad, harsh-looking woman brutally bludgeons the lithe, tanned man on his head.


The broad, harsh-looking woman raises her stone-studded baobab flail again, the left side of

his head caved in.


The broad, harsh-looking woman attacks the lithe, tanned man.
The broad, harsh-looking woman viciously bludgeons the lithe, tanned man on his head.

The freckled, light-skinned man watches impassively.


The giant crimson sun rises in the east.
Jihae, the red moon, rises up into the sky.


The broad, harsh-looking woman kicks at the lithe, tanned man with her feet, frowning.


The broad, harsh-looking woman says, in sirihish:
"Still breathing."


The broad, harsh-looking woman raises her stone-studded baobab flail high once more.


The broad, harsh-looking woman attacks the lithe, tanned man.
The broad, harsh-looking woman brutally bludgeons the lithe, tanned man on his head.


The broad, harsh-looking woman hits the lithe, tanned man a couple of times with her stone-

studded baobab flail.


The broad, harsh-looking woman attacks the lithe, tanned man.
The broad, harsh-looking woman bludgeons the lithe, tanned man's head, inflicting a grievous

wound.


The broad, harsh-looking woman attacks the lithe, tanned man.
The broad, harsh-looking woman bludgeons the lithe, tanned man's head, inflicting a grievous

wound.



The broad, harsh-looking woman finally steps away from the body of the lithe, tanned man.

Glancing to the body of the lithe, tanned man, then back to the broad, harsh-looking woman,

you say to the broad, harsh-looking woman, in sirihish:
"You have a bit to learn, I think...but good work."

You say, out of character:
"afk a moment"


Looking over after wiping some blood from her stone-studded baobab flail, the broad, harsh-

looking woman says to you, in
sirihish:
"I'll get rid of him. I'm willing to learn, Chosen Lord."


The broad, harsh-looking woman sheathes a stone-studded baobab flail.


The broad, harsh-looking woman moves away from the body of the lithe, tanned man to an open

sleeveless robe.


The broad, harsh-looking woman picks up an open sleeveless robe.


The broad, harsh-looking woman wears her open sleeveless robe about her body.


After putting her open sleeveless robe on, the broad, harsh-looking woman says to you, in

sirihish:
"I learned if I'm patient, I get what I want."


The broad, harsh-looking woman holds her curved agafari shield.


The broad, harsh-looking woman picks up a long-handled, flint lumber axe.


The broad, harsh-looking woman puts her long-handled, flint lumber axe into her rough canvas

backpack.


The broad, harsh-looking woman picks up an unlit large wooden torch.


The broad, harsh-looking woman puts her unlit large wooden torch into her rough canvas

backpack.


The broad, harsh-looking woman picks up the body of the lithe, tanned man.


The broad, harsh-looking woman swings her body of the lithe, tanned man over her shoulder,

grunting.

nod broad
You nod to her.

You say to the broad, harsh-looking woman, in sirihish:
"We need to get this moved somewhere. Let's see..."

You think:
"How to get rid of the body?"

You think:
"Could hack it into pieces..."

You think:
"...then shove him in a trunk. Maybe."

Gesturing with one hand, you say, in sirihish:
"We'll pack him on an inix, cover it with a rug."


A Dimly Lit Barracks [NWD Quit Save]
This windowless room is relatively cool and dim, although a bit
stuffy. Earthy scents waft into it from the adjoining rooms: smoke and
victuals from the mess hall to the west, and dust and sweaty bodies through
the doorway to the north. Hammocks are strung from the rafters and support
beams, each slightly personalized by an article of clothing or some personal
effect. At the head of each hammock hangs a thick woven-grass net in which
additional belongings are stowed. In the southeast corner, beside a table,
a trapdoor leads down into the ground.
A thick rug of quirri hide is here laid out near the hammocks.
A plain chest of maroon baobab hardwood sits here.
An elongated, heavy trunk made of agafari lies here.
A simple wooden chest sits here on the floor.
The athletic, olive-skinned man is standing here.
The stern, iron-braided woman watches over the trapdoor.
The slim, porcelain-skinned maiden sits behind a needle-covered table.
To the north: the broad, harsh-looking woman walks south.
The broad, harsh-looking woman has arrived from the north.

A Dimly Lit Barracks [NWD Quit Save]
This windowless room is relatively cool and dim, although a bit
stuffy. Earthy scents waft into it from the adjoining rooms: smoke and
victuals from the mess hall to the west, and dust and sweaty bodies through
the doorway to the north. Hammocks are strung from the rafters and support
beams, each slightly personalized by an article of clothing or some personal
effect. At the head of each hammock hangs a thick woven-grass net in which
additional belongings are stowed. In the southeast corner, beside a table,
a trapdoor leads down into the ground.
A thick rug of quirri hide is here laid out near the hammocks.
A plain chest of maroon baobab hardwood sits here.
An elongated, heavy trunk made of agafari lies here.
A simple wooden chest sits here on the floor.
The broad, harsh-looking woman is standing here.
- she is carrying the body of the lithe, tanned man.
The athletic, olive-skinned man is standing here.
The stern, iron-braided woman watches over the trapdoor.
The slim, porcelain-skinned maiden sits behind a needle-covered table.

An Orderly Mess Hall [EW]
Everything in this cooking and dining area has been arranged with
military precision, tall baobab cabinets standing at attention on either
side of the cooking ovens. Sturdy baobab benches are in precise formation
with their matching tables, which are in turn squared off on the northern
side of the room. But although there is not a single touch of disorder
about the place, it is not precisely clean, either, being tinged with smoke
from the cooking and curing of food.
A couple of sturdy baobab tables are here.
A sturdy baobab tun is full of clean drinking water.
The smoke-smudged, wide-eyed young woman stands before the stoves here.
To the east: the broad, harsh-looking woman walks west.
The broad, harsh-looking woman has arrived from the east.

The Courtyard of House Lyksae [NEW]
The overall impression of this courtyard is one of greyness, as that
color has been used in the stones forming the walls to the east, west, and
south. To the north is a gate of charred bone, offering a slightly
contrasting shade of grey, as well as the occasional glimpse of a more
colorful world beyond it. Even the landscaping, such as it is, is grey,
with stout short bushes at each of the courtyard's four corners. The focal
point in all this greyness is a statue at the center of the courtyard,
surrounded by a series of lightening circles of stones, the centermost being
black, and those at the edge being a pale dun.
To the west, a door leads into the manor house, inset with a panel of
bright crimson silk in the shape of a rising sun. To the east, through a
door painted with a mace, is a more humble building.
A sizable stone building has been built against the southern wall.
A muscular man, sculpted life-size from granite, stands here triumphantly.
The burly, red-haired woman stands at attention.
The weathered, burly-armed man stands watch at the gates.
To the east: the broad, harsh-looking woman walks west.
The broad, harsh-looking woman has arrived from the east.

You enter a sizable, gray stone building.
A Spacious Stable [Leave Save]
Rows of box stalls line the interior of this spacious, high-ceilinged
building, each one suitable for even the largest inix to reside in
comfortably. The creak of leather and the sounds of animals eating fills
the area. The flagstone paved ground underfoot is strewn with straw.
Slaves can be seen hurrying up and down the corridors of the stable, bearing
food, cleaning implements, and various bits of harness and leather.
A few large, wooden crates have been stacked in an empty stall.
A gargantuan lizard with glossy black scales stands here foraging for food.
A slender, striped cheotan lizard crouches here, nostrils flaring.
A huge, four-legged, reddish-shelled lizard is here, nosing about for forage.
A large yellow sunback lizard stands here.
A gargantuan lizard with glossy black scales stands here foraging for food.
The broad, harsh-looking woman has entered a sizable, gray stone building.


The broad, harsh-looking woman follows you, the arms of her body of the lithe, tanned man

hanging down.


The freckled, light-skinned man indicates a glossy, black-scaled inix with one gauntleted

hand.


The broad, harsh-looking woman straps her body of the lithe, tanned man to a glossy, black-

scaled inix's back.


The broad, harsh-looking woman wipes bloody hands on the inside of her open sleeveless robe.


A reddish-shelled inix puffs through its nostrils and bobs its head.

"A moment."
You are already standing.

Alas, you cannot go that way.

You stop leading the broad, harsh-looking woman.
leave


You step out to...

The Courtyard of House Lyksae [NEW]
The overall impression of this courtyard is one of greyness, as that
color has been used in the stones forming the walls to the east, west, and
south. To the north is a gate of charred bone, offering a slightly
contrasting shade of grey, as well as the occasional glimpse of a more
colorful world beyond it. Even the landscaping, such as it is, is grey,
with stout short bushes at each of the courtyard's four corners. The focal
point in all this greyness is a statue at the center of the courtyard,
surrounded by a series of lightening circles of stones, the centermost being
black, and those at the edge being a pale dun.
To the west, a door leads into the manor house, inset with a panel of
bright crimson silk in the shape of a rising sun. To the east, through a
door painted with a mace, is a more humble building.
A sizable stone building has been built against the southern wall.
A muscular man, sculpted life-size from granite, stands here triumphantly.
The burly, red-haired woman stands at attention.
The weathered, burly-armed man stands watch at the gates.

An Orderly Mess Hall [EW]
Everything in this cooking and dining area has been arranged with
military precision, tall baobab cabinets standing at attention on either
side of the cooking ovens. Sturdy baobab benches are in precise formation
with their matching tables, which are in turn squared off on the northern
side of the room. But although there is not a single touch of disorder
about the place, it is not precisely clean, either, being tinged with smoke
from the cooking and curing of food.
A couple of sturdy baobab tables are here.
A sturdy baobab tun is full of clean drinking water.
The athletic, olive-skinned man is standing here.
The smoke-smudged, wide-eyed young woman stands before the stoves here.


A Dimly Lit Barracks [NWD Quit Save]
This windowless room is relatively cool and dim, although a bit
stuffy. Earthy scents waft into it from the adjoining rooms: smoke and
victuals from the mess hall to the west, and dust and sweaty bodies through
the doorway to the north. Hammocks are strung from the rafters and support
beams, each slightly personalized by an article of clothing or some personal
effect. At the head of each hammock hangs a thick woven-grass net in which
additional belongings are stowed. In the southeast corner, beside a table,
a trapdoor leads down into the ground.
A thick rug of quirri hide is here laid out near the hammocks.
A plain chest of maroon baobab hardwood sits here.
An elongated, heavy trunk made of agafari lies here.
A simple wooden chest sits here on the floor.
The stern, iron-braided woman watches over the trapdoor.
The slim, porcelain-skinned maiden sits behind a needle-covered table.

You pick up a thick rug of quirri hide.
It is easily manageable.


An Orderly Mess Hall [EW]
Everything in this cooking and dining area has been arranged with
military precision, tall baobab cabinets standing at attention on either
side of the cooking ovens. Sturdy baobab benches are in precise formation
with their matching tables, which are in turn squared off on the northern
side of the room. But although there is not a single touch of disorder
about the place, it is not precisely clean, either, being tinged with smoke
from the cooking and curing of food.
A couple of sturdy baobab tables are here.
A sturdy baobab tun is full of clean drinking water.
The athletic, olive-skinned man is standing here.
The smoke-smudged, wide-eyed young woman stands before the stoves here.

The Courtyard of House Lyksae [NEW]
The overall impression of this courtyard is one of greyness, as that
color has been used in the stones forming the walls to the east, west, and
south. To the north is a gate of charred bone, offering a slightly
contrasting shade of grey, as well as the occasional glimpse of a more
colorful world beyond it. Even the landscaping, such as it is, is grey,
with stout short bushes at each of the courtyard's four corners. The focal
point in all this greyness is a statue at the center of the courtyard,
surrounded by a series of lightening circles of stones, the centermost being
black, and those at the edge being a pale dun.
To the west, a door leads into the manor house, inset with a panel of
bright crimson silk in the shape of a rising sun. To the east, through a
door painted with a mace, is a more humble building.
A sizable stone building has been built against the southern wall.
A muscular man, sculpted life-size from granite, stands here triumphantly.
The burly, red-haired woman stands at attention.
The weathered, burly-armed man stands watch at the gates.

You enter a sizable, gray stone building.
A Spacious Stable [Leave Save]
Rows of box stalls line the interior of this spacious, high-ceilinged
building, each one suitable for even the largest inix to reside in
comfortably. The creak of leather and the sounds of animals eating fills
the area. The flagstone paved ground underfoot is strewn with straw.
Slaves can be seen hurrying up and down the corridors of the stable, bearing
food, cleaning implements, and various bits of harness and leather.
A few large, wooden crates have been stacked in an empty stall.
The broad, harsh-looking woman is standing here.
A gargantuan lizard with glossy black scales stands here foraging for food.
- he is carrying the body of the lithe, tanned man.
A slender, striped cheotan lizard crouches here, nostrils flaring.
A huge, four-legged, reddish-shelled lizard is here, nosing about for forage.
A large yellow sunback lizard stands here.
A gargantuan lizard with glossy black scales stands here foraging for food.


Handing over the hastily rolled-up rug, you give your thick rug of quirri hide to the broad,

harsh-looking woman.


The broad, harsh-looking woman drapes her thick rug of quirri hide over the body on a glossy,

black-scaled inix.


You say to the broad, harsh-looking woman, in sirihish:
"Drape that over the body, and lead the inix on out of the gates out of His City. Dump

the body a few leagues away, and then return to the Sanctuary after you take the inix back

here."

You initiate the broad, harsh-looking woman into 'Servants of House Lyksae'.


The broad, harsh-looking woman arranges her thick rug of quirri hide over the body, tucking a

stray arm beneath.

Simply, you say to the broad, harsh-looking woman, in sirihish:
"Should be able to get in and out of the gates now with that inix."


The broad, harsh-looking woman nods to light.


The broad, harsh-looking woman nods to you.



The broad, harsh-looking woman begins leading a glossy, black-scaled inix.


Tugging on a glossy, black-scaled inix, the broad, harsh-looking woman says to you, in

sirihish:
"As you say, Chosen Lord. Thank you."

The broad, harsh-looking woman lowers her head to you, a happy grin on her face.

With another assessive glance over the broad, harsh-looking woman, the corners of his

features quirking upwards, you say to the broad, harsh-looking woman, in sirihish:
"We'll discuss this later. See me after you've taken the inix back. You are not to go

into the barracks."


You step out to...

The Courtyard of House Lyksae [NEW]
The overall impression of this courtyard is one of greyness, as that
color has been used in the stones forming the walls to the east, west, and
south. To the north is a gate of charred bone, offering a slightly
contrasting shade of grey, as well as the occasional glimpse of a more
colorful world beyond it. Even the landscaping, such as it is, is grey,
with stout short bushes at each of the courtyard's four corners. The focal
point in all this greyness is a statue at the center of the courtyard,
surrounded by a series of lightening circles of stones, the centermost being
black, and those at the edge being a pale dun.
To the west, a door leads into the manor house, inset with a panel of
bright crimson silk in the shape of a rising sun. To the east, through a
door painted with a mace, is a more humble building.
A sizable stone building has been built against the southern wall.
A muscular man, sculpted life-size from granite, stands here triumphantly.
The burly, red-haired woman stands at attention.
The weathered, burly-armed man stands watch at the gates.

You think:
"I think she'll work out."

You don't see that person here.


The broad, harsh-looking woman emerges from a sizable, gray stone building.
A glossy, black-scaled inix emerges from a sizable, gray stone building.

The burly, red-haired woman falls in behind you.

Thrend goes back to the Sanctuary.

You send this message to the staff:
"Rosie is taking the body outside of the city to dump a few leagues from the gates. She

has it stowed on an inix, and has RPed covering the body with a quirri rug she has."

You think:
"Well. That went well."

------
Thrend heads back to the Sanctuary.
------


The Sun King's Sanctuary [NESWUD]
A polished, white marble floor covers the ground of this expansive
room, gleaming under the light of a large glass chandelier that hangs
overhead. A semi-circular bar, made of hard-grained wood painted a deep
black, extends from the eastern wall, several high-backed barstools sitting
around it. The walls of this room are brightly decorated, with several
elaborate paintings placed carefully for unobstructed view, and shelves
holding many exotic potted plants, blooming with bright red and white
flowers. Two large stained-glass windows, decorated with elaborate sun
symbols, adorn the northwest and southeast corners of the room.
Several decoratively carved tables fill this room, while a polished
leather couch nearly ten cords in length sprawls along the northern wall. A
stately spiral staircase sits in the center of the room, winding upwards
toward the common rooms of the second floor. The sounds of laughter and
music can be heard from a doorway along the western wall, while the scents
of cooked meat waft in from the east. A small, straight stairway sits along
the northern wall, ending at a slightly raised loft and a large carven
baobab door sits in the southern wall, leading out onto the North Road
outside.
The Tuluk bulletin board is here propped up on a stand.
The short haired, heavy-set man stands here mug in-hand.
The tall, well-groomed man sits here on a plush couch.
The gaunt, black-haired man is here, leaning on the bar.
The plump, tawny-skinned woman sits on a stool, strumming on her mandolin.
The long-haired, middle-aged man stands behind the counter.
The burly, red-haired woman has arrived from the south.

You suffer from use of the Way.
You contact the broad, harsh-looking woman with the Way.

You suffer from use of the Way.
You send a telepathic message to the broad, harsh-looking woman:
"No trouble thus far?"

A foreign presence contacts your mind.

The broad, harsh-looking woman sends you a telepathic message:
"I'm almost at the Sanctuary, Chosen Lord. I left the rug in the stables."


You suffer from use of the Way.

You dissolve the psychic link.

The thin gangly woman has arrived from the south.

The thin gangly woman walks up.
You suffer from use of the Way.
You contact the svelte, bronzed man with the Way.

You suffer from use of the Way.
You send a telepathic message to the svelte, bronzed man:
"Have you seen that fellow I hired as a partisan?"

A foreign presence contacts your mind.

You suffer from use of the Way.

The svelte, bronzed man sends you a telepathic message:
"No, Chosen Lord. Not since you left with him."

You send a telepathic message to the svelte, bronzed man:
"Or was going to hire. He ran off."

You suffer from use of the Way.
You send a telepathic message to the svelte, bronzed man:
"Ah. Well, if you see him anywhere, do let me know. Odd how people up and disappear

like that."

You dissolve the psychic link.

The svelte, bronzed man sends you a telepathic message:
"He was an unusual sort."

You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

A foreign presence contacts your mind.

The svelte, bronzed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Will do, Chosen Lord."

You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.