Original Submissions

• 

  The Criminal, part IV: Foreign Sanctuary by Ghost
  Added on Mar 23, 2007

  Haadith died, but the concequences of his actions still echoed even after his death. Veralius Borsail wanted to destroy everything that was left of Haadith. Lord templar Sarador Sath captured Sophie and said he will decide his sentence on her, refusing any negotiations with Serpent or Veralius. Seeing no better way to solve it, Serpent kidnapped Sophie from where Sarador was hiding her. And together they fled to Tuluk for Sophie's safety. On their way, Sophie gave an early birth at Luir's outpost. Twins. Two boys, one died at birth. After staying in Kurac's care for one week, they finally made it to Tuluk. Seeking sanctuary, on a foreign land was not easy.

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  Submitter's note:
  
  Haadith died, but the concequences of his actions still echoed even after his death.  Veralius Borsail wanted to destroy everything that was left of Haadith.  Lord templar Sarador Sath captured Sophie and said he will decide his sentence on her, refusing any negotiations with Serpent or Veralius.  Seeing no better way to solve it, Serpent kidnapped Sophie from where Sarador was hiding her.  And together they fled to Tuluk for Sophie's safety.
  On their way, Sophie gave an early birth at Luir's outpost.  Twins. Two boys, one died at birth.  After staying in Kurac's care for one week, they finally made it to Tuluk.  Seeking sanctuary, on a foreign land was not easy.
  
  P.S: I have edited the log many times, deleting some passages of conversations, mindtalks, and some emotes and I have also replaced some names/actions as **censored** to avoid passing some information that better kept as it is.  I hope you find it a good read.
  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  
  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 obsidian-skinned woman is standing here.
  The young, Jihae-haired man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The sinewy, chiseled woman is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The thin, green-gazed man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The light-tressed young man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The long-haired, middle-aged man stands behind the counter.
  The gaunt, black-haired man is here, leaning on the bar.
  The tall, well-groomed man sits here on a plush couch.
  The short haired, heavy-set man stands here mug in-hand.
  
  The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap walks over an intimate, dimly lit table, taking a seat.
  
  You sit at an intimate, dimly lit table.
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the robust, crimson-eyed man:
      "Good morning Faithful Lord.  It is a pleasure to find your mind finally."
  
  A foreign presence contacts your mind.
  
  At a black-painted bar, you overhear the sinewy, chiseled woman say in northern-accented sirihish,
  murmuring to herself:
       "May's well watch th'scrub grow."
  
  The battered, ebon-matted man  has arrived from the south.
  
  The young, Jihae-haired man looks at the sinewy, chiseled woman with a turn of his helmet-covered
  head.
  
  The slim, golden-haired woman has arrived from the west.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
      "I have been looking for your mind for some time too master assasin. Did you manage to have a safe travel to the Ivory?"
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the robust, crimson-eyed man:
      "That I have.  I am indeed in the Sanctuary right now."
  
  The obsidian-skinned woman makes her way across the marble floor with her head slightly inclined in the direction of a black-painted bar. She pitches a broad smile in at her twisted ruby red silk scarf as she makes her way down the bar's length.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
      "Please come to the gates of the Heart Serpent, there are a lot to talk about your future in the Ivory."
  
  The battered, ebon-matted man  flicks his tongue out over his dark, dry lips, his feet carrying him slowly towards a black-painted bar with a limp in his step.
  
  You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
  
  The battered, ebon-matted man  sits at a black-painted bar.
  
  The young, Jihae-haired man looks at the battered, ebon-matted man  as he sits.
  
  The slim, golden-haired woman walks north.
  
  The obsidian-skinned woman looks down at the sinewy, chiseled woman with a passing gaze.
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the robust, crimson-eyed man:
      "I am on my way then."
  
  Lowering a black inked hand from his temple, you stand up from an intimate, dimly lit table.
  
  You dissolve the psychic link.
  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  Serpent walked to the Heart, a place few southernors made it in, fewer made it alive out.
  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  
  The Pak-Curachek Road [NEW]
     Bordered on either side by towering walls that spire upwards of ten
  cords, this road runs east and west between the Templars' Quarter and the
  Nobles' Quarter.  Bones, dried and specially treated, have been set into the
  ground to form a complexly woven path of isilt.  The road is kept free of
  dust and other debris as it makes its way through the city. 
     A pair of high-flying banners drape over the topmost portion of each
  of these gates.  On the left side, an enormous depiction of the reddish moon
  of Jihae.  Opposite to that is its stark white counterpart, Lirathu.  The
  vertical gate is a staggering ten cords tall, an insurmountable obstacle for
  even the most skilled of climbers.  The gate is made of interlocking
  rectangles of a polished hardwood, with a series of close-set obsidian
  spikes lining the very top of each half.  A row of half a dozen smoothed
  ivory torch-holders flank the sides of the gateway, ensuring a reasonably
  brightly lit entryway no matter what the hour. 
     The Pak-Curachek road continues to the east and west. 
  A young, wavy-haired female soldier stoically guards the northern gate.
  The beefy, grey-skinned dwarf is standing here, bleeding heavily.
  
  A foreign presence contacts your mind.
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You contact the robust, crimson-eyed man with the Way.
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the robust, crimson-eyed man:
      "I am at the gates."
  
  The thin, green-gazed man sends you a telepathic message:
      "Serpent...I notice a man who dresses like you. "
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You contact the thin, green-gazed man with the Way.
  
  The tall, greying-haired Tuluki soldier opens the gate from the other side.
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar has arrived from the north.
  A human Tuluki soldier has arrived from the north.
  The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier has arrived from the north.
  The tall, greying-haired Tuluki soldier closes the gate from the other side.
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the thin, green-gazed man:
      "That was me Fej."
  
  You now follow the robust, crimson-eyed templar.
  
  The figure in a black skull-studded greatcloak inclines his head in the robust, crimson-eyed templar's direction.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar looks up at you for a while before dipping his head briefly.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar steps back towards large wooden gates, after a glance back to
  you.
  
  The young, wavy-haired female soldier opens the gate.
  The young, wavy-haired female soldier steps aside, allowing the robust, crimson-eyed templar to
  pass.
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks north.
  You follow the robust, crimson-eyed templar, and walk north.
  
  Tembo Pass [NESW]
     A pair of matching gates looms just to the north, their height
  slightly dwarfed when compared to the ones above.  A gate-tower remains
  elevated in the air above this road, the patrolling of which can be heard
  constantly through day or night.  Lightly speckled grey plants lead
  alongside the road to the east, while to the west the colors of the blossoms
  are much more vivid and appear to be more taken care of. 
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar is standing here.
  A tall, greying-haired Tuluki soldier stands here, guarding the southern gate.
  The prodigious, purple-skinned half-giant soldier looms on duty here.
  The short-haired, female Tuluki soldier is standing here.
  A lean, tattooed Jihaen slave is here cleaning the streets.
  A human Tuluki soldier has arrived from the south.
  The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier has arrived from the south.
  The young, wavy-haired female soldier closes the gate from the other side.
  
  
  
  Within Piory's Yard [NESW]
     The saplings of purple and grey-barked trees are no match to the sheer
  height of the marble pyramid that dominates this yard.  Standing with an
  enormous stature, the pyramid's greyish marble walls elegantly taper up to a
  statue-tipped point.  Scattered around the base of the pyramid are various
  beds of lush blossoms, their colors appearing vibrantly-hued in contrast
  with the dreary building.  Just near the wooden gateway to the pyramid, a
  lush strip of rosebushes sprawl towards the door. 
  A gigantic, grey-marble pyramid overshadows the rest of the yard.
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar is standing here.
  The braided, hook-nosed templar is standing here.
  A Jihaen slave stands here, caring for the plants.
  A bulging, wide-lipped man sits toying with some needles.
  A human Tuluki soldier has arrived from the south.
  The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier has arrived from the south.
  
  The figure in a black skull-studded greatcloak glances around his
  surroundings briefly.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar closes the gate.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar locks the gate with a knob-ended baobab key.
  
  The enormous sun rises above the barren plains in the east.
  
  After a glance to huge pyramid raising to sky, the robust, crimson-eyed templar asks you, in northern-accented sirihish:
       "Well, you have been here before a few times, haven't you?"
  
  The figure in a black skull-studded greatcloak drops a single firm nod.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar tucks his thornwood and leather keyring back to a pocket on his
  Jihae-embossed toolbelt, slowly walking along stone path on garden.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar puts a thornwood and leather keyring inside a Jihae-embossed
  toolbelt.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks east.
  You follow the robust, crimson-eyed templar, and walk east.
  
  In a Small Corner of a Garden [NW]
     Pymlithe saplings are planted in variegated rows along this tight
  strip of the garden.  Nearly all of the flora that thrives within the
  surrounding area seems to be in the earliest stages of their growth.  The
  vividly-colored blossoms of the roses strewn about are on the brink of
  spreading open, though each stem's jade hue stands out stiffly above the
  flowerbed.  A few rounded slabs of red sandstone create a path throughout
  the underlying greb grass' dark violet cascade. 
     Just beneath the row of trees planted in the southeastern corner of
  the garden lies a cozy wooden bench, its seat covered with a pair of linen
  cushions. 
  A shadow falls over the area, driving off the uncomfortable heat.
  A wylrith tree stubbornly flourishes, its leaves forming a shaded canopy above the ground.
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar is standing here.
  A human Tuluki soldier has arrived from the west.
  The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier has arrived from the west.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar closes a Jihae-embossed toolbelt.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks north.
  You follow the robust, crimson-eyed templar, and walk north.
  
  Within a Linen-Topped Gazebo [SW]
     A row of potted plants lines the interior of this simple gazebo,
  providing the only fauna not blocked off by screens of a wooly fabric.  The
  beige, earth-toned shades assist in shadowing away some of the harsh crimson
  light of Suk-Krath while still allowing a pleasant view of the luxurious
  garden just outside.  A shelf has been hammered into place above the bench
  on the eastern wall, bearing a few yellowish candles and some long-dried
  flowers. 
     A wicker-edged door leads to the west, and a matching door opens up
  towards the southern garden. 
  A small thornbush grows in a pot.
  A long bench has been bolted to the eastern wall, cushioned by thick pillows.
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar is standing here.
  A human Tuluki soldier has arrived from the south.
  The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier has arrived from the south.
  
  
  Walking along wooden floor towards a long, cushioned bench, the robust, crimson-eyed templar asks
  you, in northern-accented sirihish:
       "You do not need that hood.. or do you need to feel safer?"
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar sits on a long, cushioned bench.
  
  Gesturing a long, cushioned bench with a casual wave of his hand, the robust, crimson-eyed templar
  says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
       "Sit down."
  
  
  Tilting his head back and letting his hood fall on his shoulders
  silently, you sit on a long, cushioned bench.
  
  You lower the hood of a black skull-studded greatcloak.
  
  You stop using a grey shaded, black face-wrap.
  
  The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man carefully wraps your grey
  shaded, black face-wrap in his hands, placing the silken object in his lap.
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, his reddish gaze
  passing over you up and down:
       "So, Serpent of the alleys. Welcome!"
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, with an appreciative nod:
       "Thank you Faithful Lord."
  
  The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man wets his lips, reaching to
  your bone-studded backpack.
  
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, his lips curling
  up slightly:
       "I can not think of any good reason why -now- you need to the sanctuary of His warm light."
  
  
  The thin, green-gazed man sends you a telepathic message:
      "Ahh. Visiting, then? Whats become of Judas?"
  
  You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
       "Did you insult a black roped witch or an high ranking caught you with a rotten noble in his
  bedroom?"
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, exhaling a soft breath:
       "Not quite, but close."
  
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Haadith..."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Malenthis.."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Then Sarador.."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Also, for the safety of my companions."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You contact the thin, green-gazed man with the Way.
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, stroking his
  pointed chin as he studies your face:
       "I know of Malenthis.. A blue if I am not mistaken, probably he would not cause any problems
  for your business.. Who is Sarador?"
  
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the thin, green-gazed man:
      "If things do not turn any bad, I will be staying in the Ivory for sometime.  Judah, could not
  recover from his injuries."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Another Blue.  Narrow witted one."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, lifting a brow:
       "Did you escape from the Black City because of two blue robes? Interesting.. I thought your
  status in your organization give you enough protection from those types."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, wetting his lips:
       "The thing is.. I am accused of being a traitor.. Twice.  And none of them really bothers me.
  Because I can slip through the whole Blues and Reds if I have to."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, exhaling a soft breath:
       "I am here.. Because there is also a defiler.  Well.. Again.."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "I could give a good fight and make the outcome of the fight a little bit surprise for him."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, grunting:
       "A defiler? From Labyrith?"
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
       "Or a pet defiler witches use?"
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "But my companions.. The templars, nobles, defiler.. They are also a threat for them.  I came
  to ensure their safety."
  
  The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man nods a few times.
  
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "I don't think he has any connections to the templars."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, pointing you
  with a slender finger finger:
       "This is second time you say companions.. One of them is an old aide of Haadith, the others?"
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
       "Did you bring a group with you for foundation of your groups' branch in the Ivory?"
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, wetting his lips, and taking another bite from your half eaten bundle of cooked meat:
       "A kid.. Baby."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, shaking his head:
       "Probably.. I will try that branch myself.  None with me here."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, his lips curling
  up slightly into a faded grin:
       "A baby? Should I congratulate?"
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, stiffling a grin, taking another
  bite from your half eaten bundle of cooked meat to hide the curl in his lips:
       "Well..  You could if you want to."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the thin, green-gazed man:
      "I came here to see the well being of the group in North myself Fej."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the thin, green-gazed man:
      "We two, can pull it together, don't you think?"
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, chuckling
  softly, shifting on bench to face you:
       "The one your bring, aide of Haadith. What's her name? I guess there is quite a story about
  Haadith's death as well."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Sophie.  And yes, there is some story to the death of the disrobbed templar."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, folding his arms
  on his red armored chest, still a smile on his lips:
       "I am listenning. "
  
  Your new objective is:
  Ensuring the safety of Sophie and his baby.
  
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, exhaling a soft breath:
       "Haadith.. attacked to a superior of his.  Red Robe Marsellus."
  
  A foreign presence contacts your mind.
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, dipping his
  head briefly:
       "Interesting. Please continue."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "And got knocked down.  Which led to his being disrobbed and banished to the Labyrinth."
  
  
  The thin, green-gazed man sends you a telepathic message:
      "We could, perhaps, but I am still sickened by disease. "
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "There was a mob.. A crowd that was waiting for him to tear him into shreds."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "I confronted him myself first and ensured his safety by taking him among my people."
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar stares at you with narrowed reddish gaze.
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "What I was planing was.."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "To keep him secure, and then probably extract anything that he knew."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Then I would sell him out.. He was nothing to me at all."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, wetting his lips:
       "I was.. Sold out by some magicker that entered my quarter by shadow magick."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "And Malenthis, pulled me into a trick.. And I was thrown into the jails for the first time."
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar exhales softly, without leaving his gaze on your face.
  
  You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Jails are a little bit convincing, when it comes to that, you are a traitor for the second
  time."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Malenthis' intentions were clear.  He was asking for Haadith's head.  And he captured another
  of ranking in my organisation as well."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "For his safety, I agreed, and brought Haadith's head to him."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, tapping his
  pointed chin, softly:
       "So that's the end of Haadith."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, pursing his lips:
       "The tip of my blade.. Was his end."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, spreading his
  arms briefly, shifting on a long, cushioned bench reaching another silk pillow:
       "Well, so you have no problem with that  witch Malenthis."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, wiping his forehead:
       "Well.. We can say that.  But still, he might hold something against me, since I am the
  "traitor"."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, with a raise of
  his broad shoulders in a brief shrug:
       "Why don't you slay that beast? "
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
       "Or someone else from your gang."
  
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Killing a templar, in his own domain among his guards is not something easy to pull off
  easily.  And after I do that, everything we do in the southside of the city would be damaged
  greatly."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "I have to have a -very- big reason to do it."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, dipping his
  head briefly:
       "Well, shortly you are in the Ivory because of another Sandas defiler who can harm either
  yourself our your mate and child.. Am I correct? "
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "And also Sarador, the Blue."
  
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "I kidnapped her from Sarador's hand."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, steadying his
  posture, speaking in a firm tune:
       "Well, you will walk safely under His warm light with protection of my name."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
       "I already ordered Corporal Vaashir to speak with you. You can also speak with him if
  neccesary."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, nodding appreaciatively:
       "Thank you Faithful Lord.  And, this includes my companions too?"
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, bobbing his
  head briefly:
       "Yes. I hope you are not planning any retirement, your skills could be very useful."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Actually.. I was just thinking of that."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, his gaze widen
  slightly:
       "You are too young to retire. Your skills could be very valuable. "
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, exhaling a soft breath:
       "I agree on that."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "But I was planning more in lines of.."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Passing my knowledge perhaps."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "If that is possible of course, I can be a trainer here during my stay."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, his lips curling
  up slightly:
       "Indeed, that's what I am planning as well. There are a couple of canditates already in my
  hand, your skills will give a safe stay and earning during your stay."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, nodding his head:
       "I think the Houses might have some to be trained as well.  Perhaps you can arrange that."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, nodding once:
       "Yes, -I- will arrange it personally Serpent."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
       "I will speak with Faithful Lady Eunoli, and I want you to completely obey her orders without
  even thinking."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, blinking:
       "Of course.. But orders about what?"
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, after a long
  while looking at you:
       "Anything my sister wishes."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, knitting his brows:
       "Of course."
  
  You think:
       "Confusing."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, thoughtfully:
       "If our stay here is going to be a problem...  We can leave Faithful Lord."
  
  You think:
       "Orders?  What orders..."
  
  You think:
       "I am not ordered.. Never."
  
  You think:
       "Damn it.. Weakness.. This is weakness.. For Sophie and the baby.."
  
  You think:
       "They can use them... Damn."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, shaking his
  head a couple of times:
       "It's not a problem, but an opportunity for me. You will find sanctuary under His brilliant
  light in the Ivory."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "I have brought what Haadith had, before he died."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
       "All **censored** are questioned by His legions on sight. On the other hand, do you
  know the name of that beast or.. can you describe?"
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, lifting a brow:
       "Ring?"
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Maybe you will be interested in them.  No."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Without his ring, medallion, and robe.. Still he has some of the templar uniform though."
  
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, his lips curled
  up slightly:
       "Did you bring the robe and medallion? What is the cost of those cursed items?"
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
       "I would like to keep them for my personal collection."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, shaking his head:
       "No.. As I said, the medallion and robe were taken in his banishment.  But I have the res of
  the uniform in Jade and black colors."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
       "Well, what is the cost of those items?"
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "I think I could pull off something like three larges or something for those armor pieces..
  But."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "We can go half for you.  Fifteen smalls."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "If you agree, I mean."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, after a while
  looking at you, bobbing his head once:
       "Sounds like a good piece. They will be a good addition to my collection."
  
  The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man bobs his head a few times.
  
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
       "I would like to speak with Sophie as well."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Of course.  Once she is around, I will bring her to you as well."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, lifting his
  hand:
       "There is no need you have to accompany us in that meeting, I want her to understand she in
  safe here."
  
  You think:
       "Why is that?"
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, biting his lower lip:
       "I see."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Once she is around, I will tell her."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, dipping his
  head once more:
       "Anytime, I will try to reach her mind as well. We will speak occasionally, that's good news.
  During your stay, if you manage to learn anything regarding the old City ruins, I would like to pay
  for it."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Of course."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
       "Also, there are elves running around His dominion, speaking about Rantarri. I am quite sure
  you will come up with something from that as well.. Especially about an one eyed elf."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "One eyed?  What else does he have as distinguishing feature?"
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, with a brief
  shake of his head, grunting:
       "It is informed he is blonde, but nothing else. Oh.. Also one more thing.. "
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
       "There is a kind of mysterious figure who is very interested in Ruins as well. He calls
  himself -Shadow-. Other than that little piece of information, there is nothing about him. "
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Shadow.. Drovians like that kind of name, if you ask me."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "But nothing reliable.  I can check it out."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, gesturing your
  cloak with a lift of his hand:
       "I am quite sure those types of people will find you while in your stay."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, chuckling quietly:
       "I am not sure if it is good to be so atractive."
  
  At your seat, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, with a slight
  girn:
       "Well, you make your life with being atractive. That's all for now Serpent, if there is
  nothing else you wish to add."
  
  The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man shakes his head, lifting his slender frame up.
  
  You stand up from a long, cushioned bench.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar stands up from a long, cushioned bench.
  
  You fasten a grey shaded, black face-wrap across your face.
  
  
  Within a Linen-Topped Gazebo [SW]
     A row of potted plants lines the interior of this simple gazebo,
  providing the only fauna not blocked off by screens of a wooly fabric.  The
  beige, earth-toned shades assist in shadowing away some of the harsh crimson
  light of Suk-Krath while still allowing a pleasant view of the luxurious
  garden just outside.  A shelf has been hammered into place above the bench
  on the eastern wall, bearing a few yellowish candles and some long-dried
  flowers. 
     A wicker-edged door leads to the west, and a matching door opens up
  towards the southern garden. 
  A small thornbush grows in a pot.
  A long bench has been bolted to the eastern wall, cushioned by thick pillows.
  The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier is standing here.
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar is standing here.
  A human Tuluki soldier stands here, lightly armored.
  
  Slowly walking along wooden gaze towards garden, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in
  northern-accented sirihish:
       "If you meet with a young human called Murkan, I am planning to ask you to give training to
  him.. So at least introduce yourself to him, as a beginning."
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks south.
  You follow the robust, crimson-eyed templar, and walk south.
  
  You ask the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
       "What was the name of that dwarf, he was also a private of the legions?"
  
  Slowly openning the wooden gates, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in
  northern-accented sirihish:
   
  Tucking his thornwood and leather keyring back to a pocket on his Jihae-embossed toolbelt, the
  robust, crimson-eyed templar asks you, in northern-accented sirihish:
       "So when I can get those armor pieces?"
  
  
  Shrugging his shoulders, you say to the robust, crimson-eyed
  templar, in sirihish:
       "Whenever you want.  I can just go and pick them up even now."
  
  Dipping his head briefly walking over large wooden gates, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to
  you, in northern-accented sirihish:
       "Meet me in front of Nenyuki Bank after you pick them up."
  
  The tall, greying-haired Tuluki soldier opens the gate.
  The tall, greying-haired Tuluki soldier steps aside, allowing the robust, crimson-eyed templar to
  pass.
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks south.
  You follow the robust, crimson-eyed templar, and walk south.
  
  The Pak-Curachek Road [NEW]
     Bordered on either side by towering walls that spire upwards of ten
  cords, this road runs east and west between the Templars' Quarter and the
  Nobles' Quarter.  Bones, dried and specially treated, have been set into the
  ground to form a complexly woven path of isilt.  The road is kept free of
  dust and other debris as it makes its way through the city. 
     A pair of high-flying banners drape over the topmost portion of each
  of these gates.  On the left side, an enormous depiction of the reddish moon
  of Jihae.  Opposite to that is its stark white counterpart, Lirathu.  The
  vertical gate is a staggering ten cords tall, an insurmountable obstacle for
  even the most skilled of climbers.  The gate is made of interlocking
  rectangles of a polished hardwood, with a series of close-set obsidian
  spikes lining the very top of each half.  A row of half a dozen smoothed
  ivory torch-holders flank the sides of the gateway, ensuring a reasonably
  brightly lit entryway no matter what the hour. 
     The Pak-Curachek road continues to the east and west. 
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar is standing here.
  A young, wavy-haired female soldier stoically guards the northern gate.
  The beefy, grey-skinned dwarf is standing here, bleeding heavily.
  A human Tuluki soldier has arrived from the north.
  The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier has arrived from the north.
  The tall, greying-haired Tuluki soldier closes the gate from the other side.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
       "May His radiance guide your path in your stay Serpent."
  
  You say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
       "Then I will reach your mind within an hour."
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar dips his head briefly offering a gentle nod.
  
  
  The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap dips his head to the robust, crimson-eyed templar.
  
  You slow down and start moving carefully.
  
  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  Within an hour, they met again in the Bank ran by House Nenyuk
  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  
  House Nenyuk Bank [W]
     The continual clink of money being counted competes with the
  noise of shuffling receipts and the yells of clerks as they run this
  way and that with boxes full of coins.  A large desk sits near the
  door, from which customers are served.
     A plaque has been affixed on the wall above the desk.
  A short, fat Nenyuki clerk stands here, waiting to help customers.
  A muscular, half-giant bodyguard lounges here.
  A muscular, half-giant bodyguard lounges here.
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar is standing here.
  A human Tuluki soldier is standing here.
  The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier is standing here.
  
  The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap hefts under the weight of your bloodied bone-studded backpack.
  
  Passing your bloodied bone-studded backpack to the robust,
  crimson-eyed templar, you say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
       "Exactly what he had.  Blood is his own"
  
  You give a bloodied bone-studded backpack to the robust,
  crimson-eyed templar.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks over you, handing a large coin pouch.
  
  The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap tests the weight
  of the coin pouch, nodding once.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar glances down to his bloodied bone-studded backpack, with a smile
  spread on his face.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar dips his head briefly towards you, walking along dark street.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks south.
  A human Tuluki soldier walks south.
  The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier walks south.
  
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  Moments later...
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  
  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 well-shaped, slash-marked man is standing here.
  The light-tressed young man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier is standing here.
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar is standing here.
  A human Tuluki soldier stands here, lightly armored.
  The lithe, black-haired young woman is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The slim, golden-haired woman is here moving about the room.
  The obsidian-skinned woman is sitting at a highly polished table.
  The sable-skinned, ponytailed man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The sinewy, chiseled woman is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The thin, green-gazed man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The green-eyed, redheaded woman is sitting on a supple, black leather couch.
  The scar-riddled, wiry man  is standing here.
  The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman is sitting on a supple, black leather couch.
  The tall, curly-haired man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The long-haired, middle-aged man stands behind the counter.
  The gaunt, black-haired man is here, leaning on the bar.
  The tall, well-groomed man sits here on a plush couch.
  The short haired, heavy-set man stands here mug in-hand.
  
  Stepping over the center of the crowded tavern, the robust, crimson-eyed templar shouts, in
  northern-accented sirihish:
       "Good and loyal citizens of the Ivory!"
  
  The lithe, black-haired young woman shifts her position, turning half way around on her cushioned
  stool.
  
  The sinewy, chiseled woman looks up at the robust, crimson-eyed templar with a turn of her head.
  
  The sable-skinned, ponytailed man turns completely on the stool, facing the robust, crimson-eyed
  templar.
  
  The well-shaped, slash-marked man comes to halt by tavern's entry, focusing his gazes on the
  robust, crimson-eyed templar.
  
  After a while waiting for silence, the robust, crimson-eyed templar shouts, in northern-accented
  sirihish:
       "I have some good news!"
  
  The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap glances at the robust, crimson-eyed templar briefly, before turning back to the doorway.
  
  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. 
  The robust, obsidian-haired Jihaen templar is standing here.
  The lanky, russet-haired lad lounges by the tavern.
  
  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.
  
  You sit on a small white stone bench.
  
  The wiry, stony-eyed man has arrived from the north.
  
  The wiry, stony-eyed man walks west.
  
  The short figure in a desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak has arrived from the north.
  
  The short figure in a desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak walks west.
  
  The stout, one-eyed man has arrived from the north.
  
  You think:
       "Interesting."
  
  The stout, one-eyed man looks down at you as he passes down the road.
  
  You hear a man's voice from the north say, in sirihish:
       "He's stealin' it!!!"
  
  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 stout, one-eyed man is standing here.
  The scarred, pony-tailed man is standing here.
  The short figure in a desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The wiry, stony-eyed man is standing here.
  The intricately tattooed half-elf is sitting at an intimate, dimly lit table.
  The well-shaped, slash-marked man is standing here.
  The light-tressed young man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier is standing here.
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar is standing here.
  A human Tuluki soldier stands here, lightly armored.
  The lithe, black-haired young woman is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The obsidian-skinned woman is sitting at a highly polished table.
  The sable-skinned, ponytailed man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The thin, green-gazed man is standing here.
  The green-eyed, redheaded woman is standing here.
  The scar-riddled, wiry man  is standing here.
  The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman is standing here.
  The tall, curly-haired man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The long-haired, middle-aged man stands behind the counter.
  The gaunt, black-haired man is here, leaning on the bar.
  The tall, well-groomed man sits here on a plush couch.
  The short haired, heavy-set man stands here mug in-hand.
  
  The well-shaped, slash-marked man breaks a jade-studded, black-leather hauberk.
  
  Dips his head to himself a couple of times watching the crowd cracking the items, the robust,
  crimson-eyed templar steps out to busy street with a slight smile on his lips.
  
  The sable-skinned, ponytailed man stands up from a black-painted bar.
  
  The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks south.
  A human Tuluki soldier walks south.
  The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier walks south.
  
  The well-shaped, slash-marked man sheathes an ivory and marble claw-carved mace.
  
  The scarred, pony-tailed man looks down at the well-shaped, slash-marked man.
  
  The green-eyed, redheaded woman says, in northern-accented sirihish:
       "Pity there wasn't a witch's neck in there.."
  
  The sable-skinned, ponytailed man puts a slender, blue-rimmed wineglass on a black-painted bar.
  
  The sable-skinned, ponytailed man walks south.
  
  The stained glass windows glow with the light of the rising sun outside.
  
  The wiry, stony-eyed man asks, in northern-accented sirihish:
       "Which witch was it?"
  
  The scar-riddled, wiry man  walks south.
  
  The thin, green-gazed man looks down at the tall, curly-haired man.
  Raising his voice, hoarsely, the well-shaped, slash-marked man says, in northern-accented
  sirihish:
       "Haadith'."
  
  Holding out her bloodied bone-studded backpack toward him, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman says
  to the wiry, stony-eyed man, in northern-accented sirihish:
       "This is the blood of Haadith Oash."
  
  Head bowed low, the male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap makes his way to the stairs, passing through the crowds.
  
  The intricately tattooed half-elf stands up from an intimate, dimly lit table.
  
  The lithe, black-haired young woman looks up at the intricately tattooed half-elf.
  
  The intricately tattooed half-elf strides past the mob with an easy stride stopping to turn to the
  lithe, black-haired young woman.
  The stout, one-eyed man purses his lips, glancing over the crowd.
  
  The wiry, stony-eyed man says to the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman, in northern-accented sirihish:
       "Hey, I think I remember that name."
  
  The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap silently stops by
  the stairs, glancing at the commotion briefly.
  
  
  The well-shaped, slash-marked man makes his way to a supple, black leather couch at a slow pace.
  
  You hear a man's voice from below say, in sirihish:
       "Goo', well I have work ta' do eh'. I must be off."
  
  You hear a woman's voice shout from below in northern-accented sirihish:
       "This witches blood will burn in firepit!"
  
  You hear a man's voice from below say, in sirihish:
       "Travel ligh' an' live well lass. I hope to see ye latta'."
  
  You hear a woman's voice from below say, in sirihish:
       "Sorry about the mess."
  
  
  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  Haadith's belongings were displayed, and destroyed publically:A small sign of victory for Tuluk, and for Samil, a bigger sign of acceptance for Serpent. 
  
  A few days after, Serpent met the boy named Murkan, who would be his aprentice in the deadly arts.
  
  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  Ana's Garden [NESW]
     Lowset bushes, their leaves a glossy purple and green, sprawl in
  semi-orderly ranks beneath a scattering of agafari and pymlithe trees, a
  network of gravelled paths leading along through the park area.  Denizens of
  the city wander through the pathways, talking in small clusters or moving
  silently towards some other destination. 
  The short, obsidian-eyed youth is sitting on a small grey stone bench.
  A slim-bodied, blonde-haired elf lounges on a bench, watching the crowds.
  A Tuluki street slave stands sweeping the ground clear of dust.
  A supple, dark-eyed dancer sits on the grass, clapping out the time.
  A short, red-haired dancer moves through the crowd, collecting donations.
  A lazy-eyed, wide-hipped dancer sways in time to a softly beaten rhythm.
  A cross-eyed, green-haired half-giant crouches, sniffing at some flowers.
  
  
  The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap leads the short,
  obsidian-eyed youth to a small grey stone bench.
  
  You sit on a small grey stone bench.
  
  The delicate, ebon-curled woman sends you a telepathic message:
      "Do you know a lot about northern templars?"
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You contact the delicate, ebon-curled woman with the Way.
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the delicate, ebon-curled woman:
      "A lot?  I don't think anyone knows a lot about anything.. But.. Yeah, I think I know some."
  
  The delicate, ebon-curled woman sends you a telepathic message:
      "*amusement* Serpent... I am sure you know a lot about lot of things. Would be possible to meet
  you... perhaps in a few weeks?"
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the delicate, ebon-curled woman:
      "I don't think it is easy to meet me these days.  Is it hard to pass it along the way?  Or
  untrusty?"
  
  The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap glances at a
  lazy-eyed, wide-hipped dancer, as he nods absently.
  
  The delicate, ebon-curled woman sends you a telepathic message:
      "Hmm... you are hiding? That is... unfortunate, indeed. Let me think how to word the question.
  "
  
  The delicate, ebon-curled woman sends you a telepathic message:
      "Do all northern templars have the same powers?"
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the delicate, ebon-curled woman:
      "Sure.  You shoot it.  I can prepare an answer probably."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the delicate, ebon-curled woman:
      "Oh.."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the delicate, ebon-curled woman:
      "No.  Not to my observation."
  
  At your seat, the short, obsidian-eyed youth says in northern-accented sirihish, grimacing
  lightly as he grips his stomach tightly:
       "So the Faithful seem to favor me.. I can't complain.. Though I wish I could've found one,
  before I ended up starving like this.."
  
  The delicate, ebon-curled woman sends you a telepathic message:
      "Samil and Eunoli?"
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the delicate, ebon-curled woman:
      "Different I would say."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, his gaze turning to the short,
  obsidian-eyed youth:
       "Slow it down or you will choke."
  
  The delicate, ebon-curled woman sends you a telepathic message:
      "Alright. I thank you, Serpent. Your company is alright, I heard?"
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the delicate, ebon-curled woman:
      "Yes.  She is fine.  We have a cute son here."
  
  The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap's gaze return to a
  lazy-eyed, wide-hipped dancer, beaming a veiled smile to her performance.
  
  The delicate, ebon-curled woman sends you a telepathic message:
      "Ahh, excellent. And its name?"
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the delicate, ebon-curled woman:
      "Sen..  Sen Hiatus.  A little troublemaker I would say."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the delicate, ebon-curled woman:
      "And for your request.."
  
  At your seat, the short, obsidian-eyed youth says in northern-accented sirihish, furrowing his
  brows curiously as he turns his head towards you, seemingly ignorant of the dancing figures close
  by:
       "Your accent .. it's different from those others which I've heard.. Are you from the South?"
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the delicate, ebon-curled woman:
      "I can give you a more detailed answer once I can meet you."
  
  The delicate, ebon-curled woman sends you a telepathic message:
      "Excellent. Let me know once it is possible."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the delicate, ebon-curled woman:
      "Of course."
  
  You dissolve the psychic link.
  
  You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
  
  A lazy-eyed, wide-hipped dancer stretches out a leg, toes pointed into the air, leaning back on her
  other leg as she dances.
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, dipping his head with a smile
  to a lazy-eyed, wide-hipped dancer:
       "We can say that.."
  
  At your seat, the short, obsidian-eyed youth says in northern-accented sirihish, scratching the
  back of his neck as a mark of confusion crosses his facial features, finally turning his gaze
  towards a lazy-eyed, wide-hipped dancer with a blank expression:
       "Huh.. Why would.. you wish to train me, then?"
  
  A lazy-eyed, wide-hipped dancer moves with a languid, sinuous twist of her shoulders.
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Because I am going to get paid for that."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, turning to the short,
  obsidian-eyed youth, staring at him in the face:
       "Now.. The purpose of this little sit down and talk, Murkan.."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Is to introduce me who I am."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "I mean.. Introduce -you-."
  
  At your seat, the short, obsidian-eyed youth says in northern-accented sirihish, dipping his
  head slowly, several times:
       "I understand.."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, eyes narrowing to slits behind
  his facewrap:
       "Now you saw me, you hear me.  You know I am a foreigner scum.."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "And you will probably hate me.  Everybody does."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "I don't care if you do."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "But..  You will respect me, so long I am your trainer."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish:
       "Hate.  Temper.. Feel humiliated, whatever."
  
  At your seat, the short, obsidian-eyed youth says in northern-accented sirihish, dipping his
  head slowly, narrowing his gaze towards his small feet:
       "I am allowed to live in the grace of the Faithful to do a task.. As long as you can train me
  in that task, you will have my respect, and jot my hatred."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, with a slow nod, not leaving
  his gaze from the short, obsidian-eyed youth's face:
       "That is good.. That is what I want to hear."
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, exhaling a soft breath, his
  gaze turning back to the performers:
       "That is all for now"
  
  The late, red sun descends toward the western horizon.
  
  At your seat, you say in sirihish, with a dismissive gesture:
       "You can go."
  
  At your seat, the short, obsidian-eyed youth says in northern-accented sirihish, rubbing his
  stomach with a content sigh:
       "Very well. Contact me whenever you wish.. to begin."
  
  The short, obsidian-eyed youth stands up from a small grey stone bench.
  
  The short, obsidian-eyed youth bows his head lightly within your direction, stepping back from a
  small grey stone bench, grasping onto the bundle inbetween his small hands.
  
  Lowering his gaze towards his bundle of cooked meat, the short, obsidian-eyed youth says, in
  northern-accented sirihish:
       "Thank you.."
  
  A lazy-eyed, wide-hipped dancer beckons in invitation to a passerby, leaning close to him as she
  dances towards him.
  
  The short, obsidian-eyed youth walks south.
  
  The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap glances between a lazy-eyed, wide-hipped dancer and the passerby, grinning impishly.
  
  A steady jingle comes from the tambourine as a lazy-eyed, wide-hipped dancer shakes it.
  
  The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap walks over a short, red-haired dancer, passing a small coin pouch.
  
  In a quiet tone, you say, in sirihish:
       "Thanks for the entertainment."
  
  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  A day after in Sanctuary, Serpent meets Corporal Vaashir, an old friend... or acquintance.
  
  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  
  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. 
  An empty mug of rough grey soapstone has been placed here.
  The Tuluk bulletin board is here propped up on a stand.
  The slim, golden-haired woman is here moving about the room.
  The young, Jihae-haired man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The wiry, amethyst-eyed woman stands here, gaze alert.
  The bulky, golden-bearded man is sitting at a highly polished table.
  The light-tressed young man is sitting at a highly polished table.
  The slight, bony-faced man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
  The long-haired, middle-aged man stands behind the counter.
  The gaunt, black-haired man is here, leaning on the bar.
  The tall, well-groomed man sits here on a plush couch.
  The short haired, heavy-set man stands here mug in-hand.
  
  The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf looks up at you.
  
  The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman has arrived from the south.
  
  At a highly polished table, you overhear the bulky, golden-bearded man say in northern-accented
  sirihish, lacing his fat hands over his swelling gut:
       "Tell me.  How well known are you in the Black City?  Favorably?"
  
  Carrying her blue and purple ceramic bottle in one hand, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman weaves
  through the crowd across the marble floor.
  
  The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf sends you a telepathic message:
      "Well, it's been a while since I've seen you around here..."
  
  
  At a highly polished table, you overhear the light-tressed young man say in northern-accented
  sirihish, with a slight shake of his head:
       "Not favorably, Chosen Lord.. especially by those disinterested in trade.  It is a very
  unhospitable place."
  
  At a highly polished table, you overhear the bulky, golden-bearded man say in northern-accented
  sirihish, chucling suddenly before speaking:
       "And no, I'm not thinking you may be in league with those barbarians!"
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You contact the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf with the Way.
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "Yes.  It has.  You are doing good, I suppose?"
  
  The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf sends you a telepathic message:
      "Not too badly... and yourself?"
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "Not good.  But not bad either.  Came here with a couple companions, and I guess I will have to
  stay here for a while."
  
  The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf sends you a telepathic message:
      "I see.  Anything I can help with?"
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "Actually, I believe there is something you can help."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "As I said I came with a couple of companions.  One woman, near twenty three years old and
  one baby."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "The woman has sleekly built body, green eyes, and is blonde braided hair."
  
  At a highly polished table, you overhear the bulky, golden-bearded man say in northern-accented
  sirihish, smiling broadly at the light-tressed young man:
       "Of course!  Not only would you be serving our glorious City, but also myself."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "The baby is just a few weeks old.  Has my eyes, and blonde hair.  What I would ask is.."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "These two, just like me are "southern scums"."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "I believe I can take care of myself when it comes to it.  But I don't think they can."
  
  The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap rubs his temple
  slowly, with a soft grunt.
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "Would you be able to help them, if they were in some kind of trouble?"
  
  The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf sends you a telepathic message:
      "I will protect them to the best of my ability, just as if they were citizens..."
  
  The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf stops using a jeweled, ivory-hilted bone longsword.
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "Thank you.  I think I can pay you for your troubles in it."
  
  The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf loads a jeweled, ivory-hilted bone longsword into an
  ivory-bound wooden scabbard with a *snap*.
  
  At a highly polished table, you overhear the bulky, golden-bearded man say in northern-accented
  sirihish, a grin appearing upon his fat face:
       "I think you stand a very good chance of meeting with them and surviving the encounter, to
  deliver my offer to their leaders."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "Aside from these two, I think the rest is an easy task."
  
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "I mean.. For me."
  
  The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf sends you a telepathic message:
      "We can worry about that later... tell them to seek me out if they need help."
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "Thank you.  I will tell it now."
  
  The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf sends you a telepathic message:
      "What is her name"
  
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You send a telepathic message to the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf:
      "Sophie."
  
  The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf sends you a telepathic message:
      "Alright then... tell Sophie if she needs me, find myself or ask any Legionnaire for Corporal
  Vaashir.  They will find my mind."
  
  The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap massages to his
  temple with a pair of pale fingers.
  
  The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf sends you a telepathic message:
      "Hope business goes well for you."
  
  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  Thus he ensured their safety, or so he thought.  A few weeks after, he realized he was wrong.
  
  After all, few things stayed as expected in Zalanthas.
  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  

  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  

  Submitter's note:
  

  
  

  Haadith died, but the concequences of his actions still echoed even

  after his death.  Veralius Borsail wanted to destroy everything

  that was left of...
  Continue Reading...