Original Submissions

  • The Criminal, part VI: "Kill me, or let me go." by Ghost
    Added on Mar 23, 2007

    Staying in a foreign city started to show its unpleasant face. Sophie could not get to talk to anyone. Nor did Serpent have much of a control over his organisation in the Labyrinth. Returning and starting everything again, started to show its sweet face. And after about a month of time, Serpent decided it was time to take the risk and return.


    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Submitter's note:

    Staying in a foreign city started to show its unpleasant face.  Sophie could not get to talk to anyone.  Nor did Serpent have much of a control over his organisation in the Labyrinth.  Returning and starting everything again, started to show its sweet face.  And after about a month of time, Serpent decided it was time to take the risk and return.

    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 tiny, copper-skinned, auburn-haired woman moves easily from table to table.
    The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman is standing here.
    The short figure in a black, moonstone-buttoned cloak is standing here.
    The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier is standing here.
    The robust, crimson-eyed templar is sitting at a highly polished table.
    A human Tuluki soldier is here, patrolling.
    The auburn, charm-tasseled man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
    The sharp-featured human soldier flanks the silver-haired templar.
    The spare, silvery-blonde templar is sitting at a highly polished table.
    The umber-skinned, azure-eyed man stands here attentively.
    The prodigious, purple-skinned half-giant soldier looms on duty 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 long-haired, middle-aged man stands behind the counter.


    Passing a highly polished table, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman inclines her head to the table's
    occupants and smilesa.

    <95/95 114/124 101/101 - walking >listen on
    You are already listening.

    Noticing a crowd of soldiers around a highly polished table, the short figure in a black,
    moonstone-buttoned cloak inclines her head deeply, then continues toward a black-painted bar.


    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the sleek, honey-eyed young woman with the Way.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the sleek, honey-eyed young woman:
        "Getting ready for the trip?"

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman sends you a telepathic message:
        "I am, and I see you. Silence and I are getting along well."

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman sends you a telepathic message:
        "Dawn?"

    You ask the sleek, honey-eyed young woman, in sirihish:
         "You think I should call our escort for the trip or should it wait?"

    You say to the sleek, honey-eyed young woman, in sirihish:
         "Hmm.. daybreak is a good timing indeed."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the sinewy, bald-headed man with the Way.

    Nodding lightly as she shifts on a saffron-colored kank, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman asks
    you, in southern-accented sirihish:
         "Have anything you need me to gather in preparation?"

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the sinewy, bald-headed man:
        "Good day Kot.  You think we can set for the trip at tomorrow daybreak?"

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    The sinewy, bald-headed man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Should be an easy trip, then.  Bring water and food."

    Her torso wrapped in a linen sling holding a blond-haired baby, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman
    steps to a small white stone bench.

    Leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman whispers to you in
    sirihish:
         "I'm going to go get everything from the apartment, love."

    Slipping an arm around your shoulders, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman whispers to you in
    sirihish:
         "Mmm, I bought some rations, I'll cook with the rest of the supplies we have. I'll be changing
    clothes, as well."

    Before releasing her grip on you, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman squeezes your shoudler with her
    arm.

    Bobbing his head, you say to the sleek, honey-eyed young woman, in
    sirihish:
         "Alright.  Sounds good."

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman walks south.


    You think:
         "Wonder how it will be like to be in Allanak again."

    It is dusk on Dzeda, the 42nd day of the Ascending Sun,
    In the Year of King's Defiance, year 19 of the 21st Age.

    You think:
         "Nearly the day is going down.  Little time till the dawn."

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman has arrived from the south.

    Wiping sweat from her brow, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman sighs as she lower sonto a small
    white stone bench.

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman sits on a small white stone bench.

    At your seat, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman says in southern-accented sirihish, settling her
    sizeable leather backpack in her lap:
         "This is heavy."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the robust, crimson-eyed man:
        "I will most probably make my trip to south this week, Faithful Lord.  Just wanted to say it."

    You dissolve the psychic link.

    At your seat, you say in sirihish:
         "Evening."

    At your seat, the obsidian-skinned woman says in southern-accented sirihish, nodding slowly:
         "Evening."

    At your seat, the obsidian-skinned woman says in southern-accented sirihish, shaking her head:
         "There is something going on around here..."

    At your seat, you say in sirihish:
         "What is it?"

    At your seat, the obsidian-skinned woman says in southern-accented sirihish:
         "I don't know... bugs disappearing..."

    At your seat, you say in sirihish, blinking in surprise:
         "What?"

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman has arrived from the north.

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman sits on a small white stone bench, settling next to you.

    At your seat, the obsidian-skinned woman says in southern-accented sirihish, shaking her head:
         "I think I just need a bit of rest."

    At your seat, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman says in southern-accented sirihish, dipping her
    head to the obsidian-skinned woman:
         "Hello, Ferris."

    At your seat, the obsidian-skinned woman says in southern-accented sirihish, to the sleek,
    honey-eyed young woman:
         "Evening, Sophie."

    At your seat, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman says in southern-accented sirihish, tilting her
    head at the obsidian-skinned woman:
         "What's the matter?"

    At your seat, the obsidian-skinned woman says in southern-accented sirihish, surveying the area:
         "I've been seeing things.... then they'd disappear."

    At your seat, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman says in southern-accented sirihish, her brows
    lifting a bit:
         "What.. kind of things?"

    At your seat, you say in sirihish:
         "You took spice or something?"

    The obsidian-skinned woman shakes her head.

    Giving an irritated grunt, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman squeezes her eyes shut.

    At your seat, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman says in southern-accented sirihish, lifting a
    hand to touch her head:
         "Been awhile since I've felt that."

    At your seat, the obsidian-skinned woman says in southern-accented sirihish, shaking her head:
         "The tempalars kicked me out of the tavern, because it happened. They were going to do it
    anyway."

    At your seat, you say in sirihish, quietly:
         "A little more quiet on that."

    At your seat, you say in sirihish:
         "Remember.. We are all foreigners here."

    At your seat, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman says in southern-accented sirihish, squinting an
    eye open:
         "What did you see, Ferris?"

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman is gone just a second..

    The sinewy, bald-headed man sends you a telepathic message:
        "I'll be hanging around the stables, whenever you three are ready to leave."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the sinewy, bald-headed man:
        "Waying someone.. We will be there once we are finished."

    You dissolve the psychic link.

    At your seat, the obsidian-skinned woman says in southern-accented sirihish, looking around:
         "I saw bugs crawl up my leg... They were there for a second... The next... They were gone."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar has arrived from the west.
    The spare, silvery-blonde templar has arrived from the west.
    The prodigious, purple-skinned half-giant soldier has arrived from the west.
    The umber-skinned, azure-eyed man has arrived from the west.
    The sharp-featured human soldier has arrived from the west.
    A human Tuluki soldier has arrived from the west.
    The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier has arrived from the west.

    The spare, silvery-blonde templar glances to the robust, crimson-eyed templar.

    Slowly walking along the crowd, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to the spare, silvery-blonde
    templar, in an unfamiliar tongue:
         "Irhihirkojt."

    Tilting her head to one side as she answers, the spare, silvery-blonde templar says to the robust,
    crimson-eyed templar, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "His Radiance guides us always."

    The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap glances at the approaching crowd, rising from his seat to incline his head, before reseating back on a small white stone bench.

    The well-shaped, slash-marked man has arrived from the north.

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman inclines her head respectfully as she catches sight of the spare,
    silvery-blonde templar and the robust, crimson-eyed templar.

    The obsidian-skinned woman shakes her head and pulls her pair of elegant red silk shoes with heels
    off the ground and onto a small white stone bench.

    The well-shaped, slash-marked man nods his head gently toward the spare, silvery-blonde templar as
    he passes by.

    Turning to a small white stone bench, the spare, silvery-blonde templar asks you, in
    northern-accented sirihish:
         "Good day.  Tell me, out of curiosity...how long have you been seated here?"

    Dipping his head once, going on walking along dark road slowly, the robust, crimson-eyed templar
    says to the spare, silvery-blonde templar, in an unfamiliar tongue:
         "Ar ufpyyo."

    The well-shaped, slash-marked man shifts his gazes to the robust, crimson-eyed templar and drops a
    gentle nod in that direction.

    Blinking a few times behind the silken fabric of his facewrap, you say to the spare, silvery-blonde templar, in sirihish:
         "Probably..six hours or so"

    Stopping near a small white stone bench, the robust, crimson-eyed templar glances between the
    spare, silvery-blonde templar and you.

    The well-shaped, slash-marked man has arrived from the west.

    Her brow knitted as she turns, the spare, silvery-blonde templar says to the robust, crimson-eyed
    templar, in an unfamiliar tongue:
         "I ihqydeptoo kise jarg atipe iojuyqojp pa jy."

    Offering a firm nod, the robust, crimson-eyed templar asks the spare, silvery-blonde templar, in an
    unfamiliar tongue:
         "Se jqy shoaioj iujuuog imjeaktup?"

    You whisper to the sleek, honey-eyed young woman in sirihish:
         "Are you ready?  Kot is waiting."

    The auburn, charm-tasseled man has arrived from the north.

    The auburn, charm-tasseled man walks south.

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman nods gently to you, rising from a small white stone bench.

    Hefting under the weight of your sizeable leather backpack, you stand up from a small white stone bench.

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman stands up from a small white stone bench.

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman falls in behind you.

    Pausing to glance at the obsidian-skinned woman briefly, the spare, silvery-blonde templar says to
    the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in an unfamiliar tongue:
         "Nu. Swu ej roeyn.  Toy Sewr Mogezups kek pnaieh."

    Lifting a hand, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "A moment Serpent."

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman lifts a hand, waving to the obsidian-skinned woman as she remains
    by your side.

    Softly, holding up a hand, the spare, silvery-blonde templar says to the sleek, honey-eyed young
    woman, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Hold."

    Lowering your sizeable leather backpack to the ground, breathing heavily, the male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap bobs his head.

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman dips her head in respect to the spare, silvery-blonde templar,
    her gaze lowered reverently toward the ground.

    The enormous sun rises above the barren plains in the east.

    The obsidian-skinned woman says to the well-shaped, slash-marked man, in southern-accented
    sirihish:
         "Cadet, if you'd like, I could make it fall to pieces when your trying to bring down those
    tembo."

    The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap lifts an eyebrow, glancing between the spare, silvery-blonde templar and the robust, crimson-eyed templar.

    Quitely, the well-shaped, slash-marked man asks the obsidian-skinned woman, in northern-accented
    sirihish:
         "Shh.. Respect to the Faithfuls'. Dont raise your voice... And what Tembo??"

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar strides towards the sleek, honey-eyed young woman, after a glance
    to the spare, silvery-blonde templar.

    The obsidian-skinned woman glances down the length of a small white stone bench towards the robust,
    crimson-eyed templar. After a moment, she settles her back on the well-shaped, slash-marked man.

    The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap gaze follow the robust, crimson-eyed templar as he progresses to the sleek, honey-eyed young woman, stepping closer to her.

    The spare, silvery-blonde templar nods solemnly to the robust, crimson-eyed templar.

    With a booming voice, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to the sleek, honey-eyed young woman,
    in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Come with me Sophie."

    Jumping to her feet, the obsidian-skinned woman stands up from a small white stone bench.

    Glancing to you, grunting, the robust, crimson-eyed templar exclaims to the sleek, honey-eyed young
    woman, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Alone!"

    The obsidian-skinned woman beckons towards the well-shaped, slash-marked man.


    Furrowing his brows, hesitation in his tone, you ask the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "What is happening Faithful Lord?  Maybe I can be of help?"

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    Reaching up to unfasten the linen sling holding the small, blond-haired baby, the sleek, honey-eyed
    young woman asks the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in southern-accented sirihish:
         "May I give the baby to Serpent, Faithful Lord?"

    Quietly, the spare, silvery-blonde templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "This is none of your concern, Serpent.  Take the child and leave the Faithful to their
    business."

    The robust, crimson-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
        "*with dark mist*Not this time Serpent, Not this time."

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    Quitely, the well-shaped, slash-marked man says to the obsidian-skinned woman, in northern-accented
    sirihish:
         "I will be waiting you in Garrison'.. Come with meh now if you want."

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman carefully removes the baby from the linen that hugs her torso and
    extends it to you, her features bearing no expression.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar stands near the sleek, honey-eyed young woman rigidly, as baby
    changes hands from the sleek, honey-eyed young woman to you.

    Her tone quiet as she steps to his side, the sleek, honey-eyed young woman says to the robust,
    crimson-eyed templar, in southern-accented sirihish:
         "I am ready, Faithful Lord."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar offers a firm nod to the sleek, honey-eyed young woman, motioning
    the one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier to stand behind.

    His hands shaking, his chest heaving up and down, you say, in sirihish:
         "What is going on?  We are just leaving.."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar slowly walks along stone road, his reddish gaze set on the sleek,
    honey-eyed young woman.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks south.
    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman walks south.
    The spare, silvery-blonde templar walks south.
    The prodigious, purple-skinned half-giant soldier walks south.
    The umber-skinned, azure-eyed man walks south.
    The sharp-featured human soldier walks south.
    A human Tuluki soldier walks south.
    The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier walks south.

    The slender, russet-haired man has arrived from the north.

    With her arms folded, the obsidian-skinned woman says, in southern-accented sirihish:
         "Let us not think about it right now..."

    You think:
         "What?!"

    The delicate, young brunette snickers quietly to herself before walking away.

    To you, the obsidian-skinned woman asks, in southern-accented sirihish:
         "This is yours, serpent?"

    The delicate, young brunette walks west.

    The obsidian-skinned woman places her sizeable leather backpack on a small white stone bench.

    His hands shaking as he holds the tiny baby in his arms, the male
    wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap bobs his head, gaze following southwards.

    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:
        "What is happening Faithful Lord?"

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the spare, silvery-blonde woman with the Way.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the spare, silvery-blonde woman:
        "What is happening Faithful Lady?  Why did you take Sophie?"

    You dissolve the psychic link.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the sleek, honey-eyed young woman with the Way.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the sleek, honey-eyed young woman:
        "Where are they taking you to?"

    You dissolve the psychic link.


    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman sends you a telepathic message:
        "I don't know, Love. If you don't see me again, know I love you and tell Sen all about me."

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the sleek, honey-eyed young woman with the Way.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the sleek, honey-eyed young woman:
        "No!  If I don't see you again, I am no more too!"

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the sinewy, bald-headed man with the Way.


    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the sinewy, bald-headed man:
        "Troubles.  The trip has to be delayed.. At least one day."


    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    You slow down and start moving carefully.

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    The spare, silvery-blonde woman sends you a telepathic message:
        "It is unfortunate, good Serpent.  But, this woman has deceived you and acted as a spy for the
    Black City during her stay here in the Ivory."

    You think:
         "NO!"

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the spare, silvery-blonde woman with the Way.

    The spare, silvery-blonde woman sends you a telepathic message:
        "It is not even a question. There is absolute proof.  But, because she is your mate, if you
    wish to come to the Heart and discuss, we will extend you that option."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the spare, silvery-blonde woman:
        "I am on my way."


    The spare, silvery-blonde woman sends you a telepathic message:
        "My Brother and I will meet you at the Gate.  Do not come bearing arms. We wish you no ill."


    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Worried, Serpent ran the familiar way to the Heart.  Within minutes, he was there before the giant gates.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the spare, silvery-blonde woman:
        "She can't be!  She does not know anyone here.  She has no access to any information.  What
    proof is it?"

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the spare, silvery-blonde woman:
        "I am at the gates, Faithful Lady."

    You dissolve the psychic link.

    The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap pats on the small
    baby in his arms, knitting his brows.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the spare, silvery-blonde woman:
        "I am at the gates of the Heart."

    You dissolve the psychic link.

    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.

    Motioning you to follow with a vague wave of his hand, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to
    you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Come Serpent, we need to talk."

    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.


    The Bahamet's Maw Tavern - Main Room [ESU]
       Half a dozen tables are scattered throughout this diminutive tavern.
    Despite the lack of lavish decor, the bar exudes a feeling of being anything
    but paltry.  The walls are coated in a layer of vivid tan paint, and
    occasionally a framed painting hangs from their glossy surfaces.  The
    floorstones below are simple squares of red sandstone, haphazardly inlayed
    into the level ground.  Just above the elongated bar on the northern wall
    hangs a luxurious tapestry, the tedious embroidery of a fiery sunburst
    stitched onto a white background. 
       The cramped entrance to the east leads out to a road, while the room
    snakes away to the south.  A polished baobab staircase is affixed to one end
    of the bar to carry patrons to an upper level dormitory. 
    A wooden-paneled painting sits supported by a miniature bone tripod.
    The robust, crimson-eyed templar is standing here.
    The plump, reddish-hued templar is standing here.
    A stocky, bald-headed bartender stands upright behind the glazed bar.
    A human Tuluki soldier has arrived from the east.
    The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier has arrived from the east.

    Gesturing a highly polished table with a lift of his single-tasseled, bladed staff, the robust,
    crimson-eyed templar asks you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Sit down. Want anything?"

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar opens a Jihae-embossed toolbelt.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar gets a pile of allanaki coins from a Jihae-embossed toolbelt.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks towards counter in front of the stocky, bald-headed
    bartender.

    Putting some coins on counter, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to the stocky, bald-headed
    bartender, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Prepare me some bowls of stew and a pint of ale."

    His tone quiet, holding the small baby in one arm, you say to the
    robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "I just want to get Sophie out of here.  Nothing else."

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    After a glance to baby in your arm, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in
    northern-accented sirihish:
         "Sit down, babies feel the fear much easier then us."

    The stocky, bald-headed bartender trades a bowl of carru-meat stew to the robust, crimson-eyed
    templar.

    The stocky, bald-headed bartender trades a bowl of carru-meat stew to the robust, crimson-eyed
    templar.

    The stocky, bald-headed bartender trades a bowl of carru-meat stew to the robust, crimson-eyed
    templar.

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    Furrowing his brows, you ask the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in
    sirihish:
         "Faithful Lady coming?"

    You sit at a highly polished table.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar strides towards a highly polished table putting his reddish clay
    pint in front of you.

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, pushing empty
    bowl aside, reaching a full one:
         "Do you know what Sophie was doing while she is with you?"

    At your table, you say in sirihish, placing your reddish clay pint on a highly polished table:
         "Thank you.  But I don't need a drink."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "I know.  Taking care of the child, preparing food.  Nothing else."

    You stop using a grey shaded, black face-wrap.

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, pushing another
    empty bowl, reaching a full bowl:
         "You miss a small thing what she was doing."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "I don't think I do.  But say it, what is it?"

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, lifting a
    ceramic spoon:
         "She was using you for protection and spying for Borsail."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "She was -running- away from Borsail.  How can she be spying for them?"

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "You are just mistaken.. Borsail wants her dead and you are just doing what they want."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, softly, his
    gaze set on you:
         "His Faithfuls hear everything including conversations with the Way. You know that very well,
    don't you."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "I do.  But I am guessing, Borsail is playing a trick here.  It must be that way."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, exhaling
    softly:
         "She was spying for House Borsail during her stay in the Ivory."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "She does not know anyone, is not friend to anyone here.  Has no connection, has no access to
    any information."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, dipping his
    spoon into bowl:
         "Tell me Serpent, how can you explain the messages Sophie send via the Way to House Borsail?"

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar eats a portion of a bowl of carru-meat stew.

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "In her first day, she had a friend.. Miko, and someone else, that my mind is busy enough that
    I can't make the name."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "I told her to cut her friendships as well."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "And she did it."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, his shoulders
    raising into a shrug:
         "No, actually a rotten Borsail she was information. "

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar eats a small portion of a bowl of carru-meat stew.

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "A noble?  Tell me his name is Veralius."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Not an aide, not another servant but a rotten Borsail."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, grunting:
         "Actually, I just know that rotten blood was a Borsail Lady. Nothing more."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "She was Haadith's aide.  I killed Haadith, and Borsail wanted to kill more of what is
    Haadith's."

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "Sent militia.. Templars on her."

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman sends you a telepathic message:
        "She's taken me back to the Sanctuary, Serpent."

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "I kidnapped her and we ran away."

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man blinks, furrowing his brows.

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, bending forward
    towards table:
         "Then maybe she was trying to secure her position in the Black City."

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man reaches to his temple, grunting.


    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "Can't be.  She is still being sought, I am about to just threaten or maybe even kill Veralius
    because of this."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "And you are giving them what they want"

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "Now.. She is back in the sanctuary.  Why is Faithful Lady not here?"

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, firmly:
         "Most Honorful Mistress gave her word, she was in contact with a rotten blood and spying on
    the Ivory!"

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Serpent! Hold yourself and think! You do that well.. Very well!"

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "I am thinking, and the more I think, the more you are just doing what Borsail wants.  We were
    on our way.."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Think what Sophie was doing with you using -your- baby. She was just protecting herself,
    nothing else."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Mistress gave her word! Sophie was a spy in contact with rotten Borsail."

    At your table, you say in sirihish, wetting his lips, patting the small baby in his arms:
         "Now.. I think it is my turn after her, is not it?"

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, after a while
    looking at you, wetting his lips before going on:
         "Serpent or whatever you call yourself. You are seated with me at a table, and I am trying to
    show the true face of Sophie who used your maybe single weakness."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "She saw you want a family, and she gave it to you. Nothing else.. In return she got power and
    a lot of coins.. Isn't it?"

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "No."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, grunting:
         "Then what? She was using you, and you ignore it."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "The baby.. The family.. All came out of the blue."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the spare, silvery-blonde woman with the Way.


    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the spare, silvery-blonde woman:
        "Let us go..Faithful Lady.."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the spare, silvery-blonde woman:
        "I will do anything.. For it."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the spare, silvery-blonde woman:
        "Just let us go."

    You dissolve the psychic link.

    The sleek, honey-eyed young woman sends you a telepathic message:
        "Go! Take Sen! Raise our son! I'm condemned to death! I love you, Serpent!"

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man bites his lower lip, his hand clenching into a fist.

    You think:
         "They killed Sophie.."

    You think:
         "Now is my turn.."

    You think:
         "So long.. it has been."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "She gave you what you wanted, and expected power and coins in return."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, glancing down
    to your hand then baby in your arm:
         "Seems she succeeded."

    At your table, you say in sirihish, pressing his lips together,
    his voice trembling:
         "Until she was arrested by Sarador, she got nothing.. asked nothing of me."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "And even then.. She did not ask.  But I did."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, grunting:
         "She was using you as a cover while she is spying for the Borsail.."


    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "Alright.. Now.. Let's think about it.  What does Borsail give her in return, while she is a
    foreingner here?"

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "Who does she have as a friend when she is here?"

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "What kind of a spying is it?  No payment?  No access?"

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, with a raise of
    his broad shoulders:
         "Probably Borsail offered to make her stay in the Black City safe. As you said she can not
    walk in the Black City safetly, unless she does jobs for the Borsail and the cursed templarate."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "Borsail did?  Well.. They did not do it hard enough then, since.. I was still planning to
    kill one of their numbers because of it."


    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, rubbing his
    eyes as he speaks in a quiet tune:
         "In any case, Sophie was spying for the Borsail with the unspoken way while she was living in
    the Ivory under my protection. "


    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, lifting his
    head, with a tired voice:
         "Are you speaking with Sophie with the Way right now?"

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "No."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, his reddish
    gaze set on you:
         "You know what is inevitable, don't you."

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    At your table, you say in sirihish, pursing his lips:
         "I can see what is going to happen to me as well."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, tilting his
    head to a side:
         "What will happen to you?"

    The short, scar-faced man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Hey, Chief! You arrived Nak?"

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the short, scar-faced man:
        "I am going to die.. So.. Enjoy your time with the crew."


    You dissolve the psychic link.

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man sighs tiredly, patting the tiny baby wordlessly.

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    The short, scar-faced man sends you a telepathic message:
        "What does that mean, Serpent? I still need your assistance."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, glancing down
    to baby in your arm:
         "Must be interesting that feeling. Watching it slowly growing up."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the short, scar-faced man with the Way.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the short, scar-faced man:
        "Well, it does not mean a lot does it?  I am in Tuluk, templarate here want a little blood, and
    I will give them that."

    The short, scar-faced man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Don't do anything insane, Boss. Try to convince them, bribe them.."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the short, scar-faced man:
        "Leave it to me.  You mind your own crew fuck it.  Since when am I being lectured by my
    underlings?"

    You dissolve the psychic link.

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, lifting his
    gaze, staring at you:
         "You will be with your child while he is growing up, don't you want that?"

    At your table, you say in sirihish, scratching his neck:
         "Well I wanted some more things but I guess it does not matter much what I want, does it?"

    The short, scar-faced man sends you a telepathic message:
        "I'm sorry, Boss. I said that, because I care about you. I'm sure, other bosses care about you
    too."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the short, scar-faced man with the Way.

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Actually it really matters. When our conversation is over, I wonder what you will do first?"


    At your table, you say in sirihish, pursing his lips:
         "Well.. I wonder that as well."


    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the short, scar-faced man:
        "Oh don't go emotional, or I will kick your ass.  Go Effen and say that his mugs were all
    fucked up.. Well.. Most of them. And mind your own business."

    You dissolve the psychic link.


    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Leave the Ivory..? or... Find someone decent to take of the child.. or maybe risk your and
    that baby's life unneccesarily? "

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Why don't you let me personally take care of your bady?"

    The short, scar-faced man sends you a telepathic message:
        "I -will- be emotional. Come down here and kick my ass for it."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Until grows up to age three or four.. or anytime you want. He will taken care as good as
    younglings from Great Houses of the Ivory."

    The short, scar-faced man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Why don't you come here and tell that to him yourself? I don't think Effen likes me more than
    a bug on his bar."


    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "If there is any need of it, well.. It can work."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "You are his father, you will decide if there is a need or not."

    You think:
         "Oh..fuck.. Go mind your own business damn it!"

    The short, scar-faced man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Tell me, who's gonna kill you, Chief."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the short, scar-faced man with the Way.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the short, scar-faced man:
        "Did not I tell you to mind your own business?  Piss off."

    You dissolve the psychic link.

    The short, scar-faced man sends you a telepathic message:
        "If that's what your order is. I wish you can get through it too, and come here to kick my
    ass."

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man stares blankly at your sizeable leather backpack.

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Well, actually I visit younglings almost every week once. There are two children of Tamara
    and Garrity who are growing up quickly. "

    You think:
         "Tamara..Tikuri's sister.."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, softly:
         "Eh, if you leave your child, I can be sure he is in good hands as well."

    You think:
         "Oh.. Everything seems so difficult now."

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man's face looks paler for a moment, exhaling a soft sigh.

    The sinewy, bald-headed man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Feel like making that trip soon?"

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the sinewy, bald-headed man with the Way.

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, softly:
         "Sophie is no more Serpent and you will continue your life. Like you did after Falka who has
    fallen with a foul trick."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the sinewy, bald-headed man:
        "Troubles.  I am not sure.  If you have other business, go about it."

    The sinewy, bald-headed man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Alright.  I'll be around.  Let me know."

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "Foul trick?"

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, grunting:
         "A kind of cursed magickal trick as I recall from reports."

    At your table, you say in sirihish, softly:
         "Is Faithful lady coming here?"

    You dissolve the psychic link.

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, with a shake of
    his head:
         "I guess she has returned to her studies. What did you wish to speak with Faithful Lady?"

    You think:
         "Maybe I should just try to kill her?"

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    The sinewy, bald-headed man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Don't usually make a point of getting involved in other folks business, but I just saw a
    templar carrying Miss out the gate.  Just figured you should know, if you didn't already."

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, wetting his
    lips before going on:
         "Serpent?"

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man tilts his head, his dark eyes staring at the robust, crimson-eyed templar blankly.

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, grunting:
         "What is passing through your mind Serpent?"

    At your table, you say in sirihish, knitting his brows thoughtfully:
         "Lots of things.. and nothing."

    You think:
         "If only I could see her now."

    You think:
         "Everything would be easier."

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, gazing the
    polished surface of wooden table for a moment, then chuckling softly:
         "Then, when will you tell me of your plans.. until that time, seems we will be seated on those
    chairs. "

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "My plans?  I don't have any plan."

    The ruddy, purple-bearded man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Ahh, Serpent.  I don't think we've been formally introduced.  I'm Lord Templar Mazlaen Fale,
    of the War Ministry."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the ruddy, purple-bearded man with the Way.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the ruddy, purple-bearded man:
        "Well met then, Lord Templar."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "What do you mean you do not have any plan? You are leading a powerful group and you have a
    child to grow, surely you must have plans."

    At your table, you say in sirihish, softly:
         "In better words, I had some plans.  But they are ruined now at the moment."

    The ruddy, purple-bearded man sends you a telepathic message:
        "I offer my approval at the death of that **censored**.  If anything else of note happens
    in the Northlands, I'll have your underlings compensated for passing the information along."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar bobs his head absently a few times, his gaze standing at you.

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the ruddy, purple-bearded man:
        "My pleasure, Lord Templar.  I will see what I can do.  And Scar, the one now taking care of
    the crew will be in contact with you."

    You dissolve the psychic link.

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, steadying his
    posture:
         "Do you need time for making new plans Serpent?"

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "Seems like it."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "What About your child?"

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "He will share my fate."

    You think:
         "It is meaningless."

    You think:
         "I just want to kill... Just want to kill.."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, his gaze
    falling down to polished surface of wooden table:
         "And your possible fate is..?"

    You think:
         "Where is Eunoli when I need her?"

    At your table, you say in sirihish, lifts his shoulders into an exhausted shrug:
         "We will see."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "I don't know yet myself."

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, hitting the
    table with his fist loudly with voice of cracking wood:
         "WHAT FOOLISHNESS IS THIS?"

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish:
         "YOU ARE A GOOD DAMM LEADER OF A GANG!"

    At your table, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says in northern-accented sirihish, his voice
    echoing through tavern:
         "YOU TELL ME YOU ARE LOST OF YOUR MIND BECAUSE OF A WOMAN YOU KNOW FOR WHAT.. A COUPLE OF
    YEARS!"

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar staring at the plump, reddish-hued templar direction, exhaling
    softly.

    At your table, you say in sirihish, patting the baby in his arms, his tone soft:
         "I think I know pretty much what I am, Faithful Lord.  We don't need to go over that."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "But it is not often.."

    Offering a firm nod, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to the plump, reddish-hued templar, in
    northern-accented sirihish:
         "I do apologize High Templar."

    At your table, you say in sirihish:
         "That my plans gets ruined.  I am a little.. Surprised."

    Motioning you to raise with a wave of his hand, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in
    northern-accented sirihish:
         "Come."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar stands up from a highly polished table.

    You stand up from a highly polished table.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar strides along the crowded tavern with long steps.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks east.
    You follow the robust, crimson-eyed templar, and walk east.

    Way of Acquisition [NSW]
       Smoothed chunks of fire-blackened stone make up the walkway of this
    cobbled road.  Just to the east, walls of sturdy wooden logs are nailed
    together to form a steadfast barrier between the street and the massive
    pyramid enclosed within.  The road is rather minute in width, its
    overshadowing western wall adding to its tiny appearance.  Although the path
    seems rather new, the surface of each of the durable stones is marred by the
    imperfection of wheel marks and the occasional stain. 
       A break in the wall to the west reveals the awning-covered entryway to
    a bustling tavern.  Just above the leather-reinforced canvas awning, a
    wooden carving hangs from the building to depict the visage of a beady-eyed
    bahamet. 
    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 walks south.
    You follow the robust, crimson-eyed templar, and walk south.

    Street of the Blazing Fist [NE]
       Round-edged plates of red sandstone have been placed together to form
    this road.  An occasional slab bears the faint etching of a sunburst, though
    they are otherwise undecorated.  A pair of walls hamper movement in the two
    cardinal directions, and the tip of a pyramidal object can be seen just over
    the towering northern barrier.  Scatterings of greyish grass sprout up from
    between various pieces of the road below, struggling to survive amidst the
    dusty surface. 
       Mirroring the corner of the pyramid, the road takes a jutting turn
    from the east to the north here.  The wall surrounding the pyramid seems
    sunken at this point, allowing glimpses of the sleek grey marble structure.
    A smooth statue of sculpted stone stands here upon a thin circle.
    The robust, crimson-eyed templar is standing here.
    A human Tuluki soldier has arrived from the north.
    The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier has arrived from the north.

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks east.
    You follow the robust, crimson-eyed templar, and walk east.

    Street of the Blazing Fist [EW]
       Round-edged plates of red sandstone have been placed together to form
    this road.  An occasional slab bears the faint etching of a sunburst, though
    they are otherwise undecorated.  A pair of walls hamper movement in the two
    cardinal directions, and the tip of a pyramidal object can be seen just over
    the towering northern barrier.  Scatterings of greyish grass sprout up from
    between various pieces of the road below, struggling to survive amidst the
    dusty surface. 
       Pink-mottled red fruit clings to the sides of a thorny vine that
    creeps over the northern wall.  The vine dangles precariously from atop the
    wall, still clearing the ground by multiple cords. 
    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.

    Shrugging, you say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "I won't need it anymore.  Someone else can take the pack."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks east.
    You follow the robust, crimson-eyed templar, and walk east.

    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.
    A lean, tattooed Jihaen slave is here cleaning the streets.
    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 walks north.
    You follow the robust, crimson-eyed templar, and walk north.

    Chakal's Gateway [NS]
       Brilliant banners hang from the eastern and western guardtowers,
    stopping just short of a gargantuan wooden gateway.  The pair of tapestries
    depict scenes of battle, their detailed stitchwork capturing each crimson
    droplet of blood as Tuluki soldiers massacre the southlands militia.  Rows
    of vibrantly-hued blossoms have been planted to lead up to the gate, over
    which the glistening tip of a pyramid can be seen. 
    A scattering of wildflowers lies drifted through the grass.
    The robust, crimson-eyed templar is standing here.
    A stout, scruffy-haired male soldier blocks the northern gateway.
    A human Tuluki soldier has arrived from the south.
    The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier has arrived from the south.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar gets a thornwood and leather keyring from a Jihae-embossed
    toolbelt.

    The prim, midnight-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
        "So we never had that little chat a couple months ago, as we had planned..."
    The robust, crimson-eyed templar slings a single-tasseled, bladed staff across his back.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar holds a thornwood and leather keyring.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar searches through a thornwood and leather keyring.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar unlocks the gate with a knob-ended baobab key.


    The robust, crimson-eyed templar exclaims to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "I will do something for you!"

    The stout, scruffy-haired male 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.

    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.
    A bulging, wide-lipped man sits toying with some needles.
    A Jihaen slave stands here, caring for the plants.
    The braided, hook-nosed 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.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar closes the gate.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the prim, midnight-haired man with the Way.

    Firmly, the robust, crimson-eyed templar exclaims to a Jihaen slave, in northern-accented
    sirihish:
         "Come here!"

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar asks a Jihaen slave for assistance, but he refuses.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the prim, midnight-haired man:
        "Oh.. There is not any more need for it.  As your target is dead already."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar dips his head once as a Jihaen slave approaches.

    The prim, midnight-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
        "...she is... *surprise*"

    The burning sun rises high into the sky, searing the earth.
    The red orb of Jihae, the red moon, begins to vanish as it slowly sets.

    The prim, midnight-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
        "When?"

    Gesturing a Jihaen slave, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented
    sirihish:
         "Give your child to this slave, or you will ruin yourself without a sudden anger."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the prim, midnight-haired man:
        "It does not matter much, I guess. But right.. I am as much surprised."

    The prim, midnight-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
        "It does matter, a great deal."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the prim, midnight-haired man:
        "Time.. Does not matter I meant."

    The prim, midnight-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
        "The time does."

    The prim, midnight-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
        "When did it happen?"

    Tilting his head, you ask the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in
    sirihish:
         "Why?"

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "You will always able to ask your child back, but I insist him to stay here at least a
    month."

    The use of the Way drains you.

    Shaking his head, you say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "No.  I don't want to part with anyone else at the moment.  You can keep me along with the
    child if you want."

    You shrug.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "You seem to have nothing to lose right now. After years of effort, I can not even imagine how
    you manage to dig a hole in the filth you born, you seem to lost everything within yourself."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the prim, midnight-haired man:
        "Today..  Or was it yesterday?  I am losing the track of time."

    The prim, midnight-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
        ".....today.....by...who?"

    Pointing baby with a slender finger, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in
    northern-accented sirihish:
         "That's a baby and needs attention, on the other hand you need time to think what you have
    done so far. "

    The short templar wearing a thin veil of white silk opens the gate from the other side.

    The short templar wearing a thin veil of white silk has arrived from the south.
    The umber-skinned, azure-eyed man has arrived from the south.
    The sharp-featured human soldier has arrived from the south.

    The short templar wearing a thin veil of white silk closes the gate.

    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.
    The short templar wearing a thin veil of white silk has arrived from the west.
    The umber-skinned, azure-eyed man has arrived from the west.
    The sharp-featured human soldier has arrived from the west.
    A human Tuluki soldier has arrived from the west.
    The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier has arrived from the west.

    The short templar wearing a thin veil of white silk walks west.
    The umber-skinned, azure-eyed man walks west.
    The sharp-featured human soldier walks west.

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the prim, midnight-haired man:
        "Tuluk..  Public execution."

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man glances westward sharply.

    You dissolve the psychic link.

    You think:
         "Slipped.. Missed my chance."

    You hear a woman's voice shout from the west in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Sorry to disturb, Brother."

    The prim, midnight-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
        "....by the Hi-  *his thoughts are cut off abruptly as the link snaps shut*"

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man's chest heaves up and down, a hand reaching to his temple.

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    The prim, midnight-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
        "*guardedly* You and I need to have that chat."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar exclaims to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "High Templar Eunoli will not join us!"

    The prim, midnight-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Send an emissary if you don't trust me after that stunt you pulled by smuggling her out of
    Allanak."

    Pursing his lips, exhaustion in his words, you say to the robust,
    crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "Can I go then?  I have a long way to south."

    With a shake of his head, firmly, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in
    northern-accented sirihish:
         "No, as I said I insist your baby to stay. You are not in good mood for taking care of this
    baby. "

    Softly, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Serpent, this is best for your child."

    You say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "My organisation will take care of him."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar puts a thornwood and leather keyring inside a Jihae-embossed
    toolbelt.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Serpent, let the baby stay."

    The prim, midnight-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
        "But this cannot be discussed over the Way."

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    Grunting, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "At least let your baby to be taken care of in decent conditions."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         ".. at least for a couple of months."

    Shaking his head, you say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in
    sirihish:
         "My organisation takes care of many babies.  And this one will be looked over specially."

    You say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "I will keep him."

    The sun reaches its highest point in the sky.

    The small, blond baby starts to wail in the pale-faced,
    serpent-tattooed man's arms.

    Softly, you say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "Let us go."

    Leaning aganist a thin, canopied wylrith tree, the robust, crimson-eyed templar asks you, in
    northern-accented sirihish:
         "You do understand me right?"

    You say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "I think I do."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar asks you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Do you understand your position in my eyes?"

    You ask the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "What does it have to do with the baby?"

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "With that baby in under my protection, I will be sure you will not do anything with a sudden
    anger of yours.. And I guess results of your anger could be .. very harmful."

    Shaking his head, after a moment of thought, you say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "There is no way.. I am parting with him."

    Stepping close to you, lifting his head to face, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in
    northern-accented sirihish:
         "Why don't you leave him with me. Surely he will spend a couple of better months then in a
    place full of hunger, thievery and brutallity."

    Lowering your leather waterskin from his lips, his tone calm, you
    say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "I take good care of what is mine.  So long..."

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man presses his lips together,
    shutting his mouth tightly.

    His lips curling up slightly, the robust, crimson-eyed templar asks you, in northern-accented
    sirihish:
         "So if I insist to keep your baby, you wish to stay with him right?"

    Without a word, the pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man stares at
    the robust, crimson-eyed templar blankly.

    His arms folded on his chest, the robust, crimson-eyed templar stares at you .

    You think:
         "I am getting tired."

    In a calm tone, you ask the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in
    sirihish:
         "You are not letting me go?"

    Softly, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "How damm important you are."

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    Pursing his lips, you say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in
    sirihish:
         "Seriously, I am not sure.  Depends on who is asking I guess."

    The short, scar-faced man sends you a telepathic message:
        "What's the deal you had with Juye, Boss?"

    Scratching his hair under his red silk hood, slowly walking along the path in garden, the robust,
    crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Well, for me at least."

    Turning back for a moment, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented
    sirihish:
         "You are a smart person.. very smart I must say."

    The short, scar-faced man sends you a telepathic message:
        "I don't know if you're in the condition to reply me, but she told me that I need to ask you
    about it."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the short, scar-faced man with the Way.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "On the other hand, I am not quite sure of how good you are controling your emotions."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the short, scar-faced man:
        "There is a merchant to be killed.  On the miner's road.  The cloth seller.  In one month, the
    job should be done."

    The short, scar-faced man sends you a telepathic message:
        "How much is the bounty on their head?"

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    Kneeling near a flower bush, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented
    sirihish:
         "Seems that spy manage to seduce and .. control you to some degree."

    The late, red sun descends toward the western horizon.
    The pale orb of the white moon, Lirathu, vanishes as it slowly sets.

    With an exasperated sigh, you say to the robust, crimson-eyed
    templar, in sirihish:
         "It is not doing any progress at all.  I am really tired.  Just do what you want to do
    Faithful Lord.  Or let me go."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Unless I am convienced you are going to dig the sour of that spy, I can not let you leave."

    Grunting, the robust, crimson-eyed templar exclaims to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Look at yourself Serpent, you are not even caring of your life!"

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "You even know you may not leave this place alive, you still do not care about it."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "That's why I ask for the child. At least there will be something you care for."

    You say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "Truly, I have not thought much about my life for quite a long time.  Longer than I know you,
    I think."

    Shaking his head, you say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in
    sirihish:
         "The child stays with me, and the only way to part with him is taking him off my dead
    fingers."

    Reaching long shaft of his single-tasseled, bladed staff, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to
    you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Then make my decision easier if you do not care about your life a bit."

    You think:
         "If he reaches for the baby.."

    You think:
         "I will first kill my son.. Then kill him.."


    The robust, crimson-eyed templar unslings a single-tasseled, bladed staff from his back.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar stops using a serrated, ivory longknife.

    Offering his serrated, ivory longknife from its hilt, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you,
    in northern-accented sirihish:
         "If you do not want to live, take this and end you life. As you said, seems we are not making
    an progress here."

    Spreading his empty hand, his other arm holding the baby, you say
    to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "I want to go.  That is what I said.  And I will take the child with me.  If you want to kill
    me, or take the child, I am not going to try persuading you otherwise."

    You say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "But I am not parting with the baby."

    The hilt of his serrated, ivory longknife standing close to your, the robust, crimson-eyed templar
    asks you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Serpent, will you continue doing your business?"

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar asks you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Will you able to get your emotions out and continue you to make business with His
    Faithfuls?"

    The last rays of the red sun fade over the Grey Forest.
    The scarlet face of Jihae rises, staring down from the sky.

    With an exasperated sigh, you say to the robust, crimson-eyed
    templar, in sirihish:
         "I am.. really.. tired Faithful Lord.  Can we discuss this later?  Either let me go, or kill
    me.. Or do something.  But please end this for now."

    Slowly sliding his serrated, ivory longknife to a sheath on his Jihae-embossed toolbelt, the
    robust, crimson-eyed templar asks you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Are you, two leaving for the Black City?"

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar walks west.
    You follow the robust, crimson-eyed templar, and walk west.

    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.
    A bulging, wide-lipped man sits toying with some needles.
    A Jihaen slave stands here, caring for the plants.
    The braided, hook-nosed templar is standing here.
    A human Tuluki soldier has arrived from the east.
    The one-eyed half-giant Tuluki soldier has arrived from the east.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar slings a single-tasseled, bladed staff across his back.


    Offering a firm nod, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to the braided, hook-nosed templar, in
    northern-accented sirihish:
         "High Templar."

    Holding the baby in his arms securely, you say, in sirihish:
         "Seems like it."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar gets a thornwood and leather keyring from a Jihae-embossed
    toolbelt.

    Reaching a key on his thornwood and leather keyring, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you,
    in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Leave this week."

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar holds a thornwood and leather keyring.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar searches through a thornwood and leather keyring.

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar unlocks the gate with a knob-ended baobab key.

    Gesturing baby in your arm, the robust, crimson-eyed templar asks you, in northern-accented
    sirihish:
         "What is his name?"

    You say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "Sen Hiatus.  Sophie put his name."

    Stepping close to baby, his lips slightly curled up, the robust, crimson-eyed templar asks you, in
    northern-accented sirihish:
         "Sen Hiatus.. Does it have a meaning?"

    The robust, crimson-eyed templar puts a thornwood and leather keyring inside a Jihae-embossed
    toolbelt.

    You say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "Sen.. Was what people used to call me when I was a kid.  And Hiatus means "disruption".
    Well.. Because he was a disturbing one."

    A faded smile touched on his lips, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in
    northern-accented sirihish:
         "Beatiful name. He is growning up close to weapons.. He will be tough."

    Slowly walking towards large wooden gates, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in
    northern-accented sirihish:
         "I would hope he to speak smooth Sirihish though."

    You send a telepathic message to the sinewy, bald-headed man:
        "Two of us.. And the baby.. We should progress on the trip as soon as possible."

    You say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "As smooth as mine."

    You say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "Or more like a southsider.. I am not sure."

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    The sinewy, bald-headed man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Sounds good.  Where should we meet?"

    Chuckling softly, raising his head from baby to you, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says, in
    northern-accented sirihish:
         "At least I can understand what you can, unlike other labyrinth born."

    Softly, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Leave the Ivory this week, without leaving your weapons from your sheath."

    You think:
         "We will see."

    You say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "I will go to south.  As soon."

    Softly, the robust, crimson-eyed templar asks you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "Should I give you a soldier to assist you?"

    Rubbing his pointed chin, the robust, crimson-eyed templar asks you, in northern-accented
    sirihish:
         "Can not you make this week Serpent?"

    You say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "I can."

    You say to the robust, crimson-eyed templar, in sirihish:
         "And I will."

    Softly, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "I would appreciate it."

    You fasten a grey shaded, black face-wrap across your face.

    Holding the tiny baby securely in his hands, the male wearing a
    grey shaded, black face-wrap inclines his head to the robust, crimson-eyed templar.

    Lifting his hand, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "I bid you a safe travel."

    His gaze passing to baby, the robust, crimson-eyed templar says, in northern-accented sirihish:
         "And you as well Sen."

    The male wearing a grey shaded, black face-wrap silently, slips through the darkened streets, disappearing into the crowds.

    You slow down and start moving carefully.

    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    His thoughts weak, he just let his feet carry him.  After a short while, Serpent met his guide to the south. 
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    His tone soft as a whisper, to the small blond baby in his arms,
    you say, in sirihish:
         "I will take care of you, Sen.. I will."

    You think:
         "I would just kill you.."

    You think:
         "Eunoli.."

    You think:
         "Or try at least."

    You think:
         "Fuck."

    The sinewy, bald-headed man raises the hood of a dusty hooded, grey sandcloth windcloak.

    The very short figure in a dusty hooded, grey sandcloth windcloak slips a hand within his cloak,
    and rummages through his belt.

    His tone calm, you ask the very short figure in a dusty hooded,
    grey sandcloth windcloak, in sirihish:
         "Do we have to wait for the daybreak?"

    The very short figure in a dusty hooded, grey sandcloth windcloak says to you, in sirihish:
         "Nope.  Wouldn't recommend crossing the Red Desert at night, but that's a ways off."

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    They made it to Allanak without an incident.  They parted their ways and Serpent once more was home.  He traveled the alleys he has lived in for so long, his son crying in his arms.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Dead End [NE]
       You are standing in the middle of a poverty-stricken alley, the
    Highlord's chamberpot of human life.  All about you, piled against
    dilapidated stone buildings, are piles of garbage, excrement, and the
    occasional corpse -- or perhaps that's simply a sleeping child -- that
    gather here.  The sky above, what is visible of its dome through the
    blood-tinged air rank with foul scents, shines less brightly upon you, the
    sun's rays blocked out by the tall cracked structures of crumbling red
    stone, buildings which give this alley a claustrophobic feel, despite its
    being quite wide. 
       This alleyway ends here.  To the west the grey stone of the outer wall
    of Allanak is visible above the piles of trash and debris piled up against
    it.  A narrow doorway is visible along the north row of buildings.  The only
    other visible exit leads eastwards. 

    Matron Verwolin's Orphanage [S]
       Within the sanctuary of this small building, the air is heady with the
    smells of molding laundry, feces, ammonia and the ancient reek of the
    Labyrinth itself.  It has been recently cleared of the sand, trash and
    debris that once littered this place.  The building is in terrible
    disrepair, but apparently now serves as a shelter for the hordes of homeless
    children in Allanak.  A small cooking fire burns near the back of the
    building near which lies a large pile of soiled laundry.  A small number of
    bruised and dirty children live and thrive here, some play quietly, while
    others sit listessly. 
    The ancient, green-eyed woman stands hunched over the fire.
    A grimy, shaggy-haired urchin crouches in the shadows.
    The bulky, grim-faced man is here, disciplining the children.

    Holding the baby in his arms, the pale-faced, serpent-tattooed
    man walks over the fire, crouching next to the ancient, green-eyed woman.

    Patting the baby softly, you say to the ancient, green-eyed woman, in sirihish:
         "Hello Matron.  Long time no see."

    The ancient, green-eyed woman glances up at you.

    The ancient, green-eyed woman's eyes shift to the baby in your arms.

    You say to the ancient, green-eyed woman, in sirihish:
         "I have something that I want you to keep.  And raise for me."

    Spitting to one side before speaking, the ancient, green-eyed woman says to you, in sirihish:
         "Eh, alright.  Won't be much good for a couple years yet.  I'l get one'a the older brats to
    watch it."

    The ancient, green-eyed woman says to you, in sirihish:
         "But I'll need somethin' for its upkeep."

    Wetting his lips, you say to the ancient, green-eyed woman, in
    sirihish:
         "I want him to be raised..  With a special care matron.  He is not one of the other brats."

    You say to the ancient, green-eyed woman, in sirihish:
         "You will get a special upkeep for him as well."

    You say to the ancient, green-eyed woman, in sirihish:
         "I mean.. You will get special -something- for his upkeep."

    You ask the ancient, green-eyed woman, in sirihish:
         "Do we understand each other?"

    One eye squinted, the ancient, green-eyed woman says to you, in sirihish:
         "Every month?  I'll treat 'im good enough if it's worth it."

    You say to the ancient, green-eyed woman, in sirihish:
         "You name what it is worth then."

    The baby starts wailing again, squirming in your arms.

    You say to the ancient, green-eyed woman, in sirihish:
         "I will come and see him once in every two weeks."

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man pats softly to the back of the baby, exhaling a soft sigh.

    The ancient, green-eyed woman says to you, in sirihish:
         "Well then, give me what you think he's worth an' when you come to check you decide if you're
    gettin' what you paid for."

    The ancient, green-eyed woman says to you, in sirihish:
         "Can't say any fairer than that."

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man bobs his head, passing the baby to the ancient, green-eyed woman.

    You get a pile of allanaki coins from a bone-studded backpack.
    There were 1000 coins.
    It is very light.

    The ancient, green-eyed woman takes the baby into her arms, gently rocking it until the cries
    subside.

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man takes a few coin pouches from your bone-studded backpack, tossing one of them to the ancient, green-eyed woman.

    You ask the ancient, green-eyed woman, in sirihish:
         "Looks good enough?"

    Looking the baby over then glancing back to you, the ancient, green-eyed woman says to you, in
    sirihish:
         "This poor thing's half starved, I better feed it."

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man absently, tosses another
    coin pouch to the ancient, green-eyed woman, bobbing his head.

    His tone quiet, you say to the ancient, green-eyed woman, in
    sirihish:
         "Alright.. You know what to do with him."

    The ancient, green-eyed woman slips the coins into a pocket, carrying the baby off with a nod.

    The pale-faced, serpent-tattooed man furrows his brows, staring
    at the fire thoughtfully.

    You think:
         "Should I just go and attempt killing Eunoli now?"

    You think:
         "Nah.. Does not worth half the trouble."


    You think:
         "I will think of something, when the time is right."


    The ancient, green-eyed woman moves over to the fire, holding the baby in the crook of one arm and
    taking a small bowl of mushy gruel in the other.


    Staring blankly at the fire, you say to the ancient, green-eyed
    woman, in sirihish:
         "I will be going.. Guess I will have some business to do in the alleys.  You take care of the
    kid."

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    Turning toward the doorway, his empty hand reaching to the hilt
    of your sharp, well-balanced bone halfsword, you say to the ancient, green-eyed woman, in
    sirihish:
         "I will come check him in two weeks."

    Dead End [NE]
       You are standing in the middle of a poverty-stricken alley, the
    Highlord's chamberpot of human life.  All about you, piled against
    dilapidated stone buildings, are piles of garbage, excrement, and the
    occasional corpse -- or perhaps that's simply a sleeping child -- that
    gather here.  The sky above, what is visible of its dome through the
    blood-tinged air rank with foul scents, shines less brightly upon you, the
    sun's rays blocked out by the tall cracked structures of crumbling red
    stone, buildings which give this alley a claustrophobic feel, despite its
    being quite wide. 
       This alleyway ends here.  To the west the grey stone of the outer wall
    of Allanak is visible above the piles of trash and debris piled up against
    it.  A narrow doorway is visible along the north row of buildings.  The only
    other visible exit leads eastwards. 

    The obsidian-skinned woman sends you a telepathic message:
        "I am sorry for the loss."

    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The news of Sophie's death traveled as fast as Serpent did.  Within moments, Mazlaen Fale was in his mind
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    The ruddy, purple-bearded man sends you a telepathic message:
        "So I here Haadith has only recently been executed, Serpent."

    The ruddy, purple-bearded man sends you a telepathic message:
        "It sounds like there's about to be a blood bath.  A Guild blood bath.  Unless I get some
    answers."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You contact the ruddy, purple-bearded man with the Way.

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    The obsidian-skinned woman sends you a telepathic message:
        "Serpent, you should make your way to Allanak as soon as possiable."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the ruddy, purple-bearded man:
        "Answer?  What is the question?"

    The obsidian-skinned woman sends you a telepathic message:
        "I am here and I need someone to tell a story to a Tempalar here."

    The obsidian-skinned woman sends you a telepathic message:
        "I will wait for you in Allanak."

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    A foreign presence contacts your mind.

    The obsidian-skinned woman sends you a telepathic message:
        "Tell the templars of Allanak how they killed Sophie"

    You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

    The ruddy, purple-bearded man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Previously it was claimed that the Guild was responsible for killing Haadith, but it's been
    proven that.. such.. just simply isn't true.  Someone's been lying to a Red Robe, Serpent."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the ruddy, purple-bearded man:
        "I have killed him, myself.. With my very own blade."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the ruddy, purple-bearded man:
        "What makes you think it is not so?"

    The ruddy, purple-bearded man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Then Sophie and two others -weren't- recently executed in the Northlands?"

    The ruddy, purple-bearded man sends you a telepathic message:
        "Haadith's belongings weren't destroyed publically in the North?  All my sources are full of
    shit, are they?"

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the ruddy, purple-bearded man:
        "Sophie has been executed.  Haadith's belongings are destroyed.  What does it make at all?"

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the ruddy, purple-bearded man:
        "Haadith is killed by me, in the labyrinth."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the ruddy, purple-bearded man:
        "In the westside."

    The ruddy, purple-bearded man sends you a telepathic message:
        "What of this Renali fellow?"

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the ruddy, purple-bearded man:
        "Who cares if Sophie had Haadith's belongings.. And ran away to Tuluk"

    You think:
         "I do."

    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the ruddy, purple-bearded man:
        "Reneli?  Well.. She has nothing about anything.  She was just Veralius' concubine."


    You suffer from use of the Way.
    You send a telepathic message to the ruddy, purple-bearded man:
        "I could enlighten you a little bit about Veralius and all, but it gets a little nifty there.
    We paid for this information, and if we get what we paid for, we can pass it to you of course."

    You dissolve the psychic link.

    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Thus ended the remains of Haadith.  However it sparkled the taste of revenge on the crime lord.  He was uncertain how to start, but first, he had a lot of work to built back the damaged relations of his organisations.
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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

    Submitter's note:


    Staying in a foreign city started to show its unpleasant face. 

    Sophie could not get to talk to anyone.  Nor did Serpent have much

    of a control over his...
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