Original Submissions

• 

  The Golden Kank, Part 1 by Tortall
  Added on Oct 23, 2008

  Lady Kelbina Fale has been visiting with Pertarius Borsail. He thinks Fale is little more that commoners, and she is arguing with him. While they speak she sees something odd...

  ---

  You think:
       "If me leaves me in here I shall never forgive him."

  You think:
       "Actually I probably will."

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman sighs softly.

  Noble's Quarters [W]
     Lavish drapes of linen highlighted by strips of satin frame the two large
  windows in the starboard wall, while a pair of heavy shutters can be swung
  closed for protection.  Lush curtains partition the room into three sections,
  each with a wide, low-set bed, a small chiffarobe, and its own decoration.
  Silk-covered pillows line the base of the remaining wall, more for style
  than practicality.
  A leather-strapped, rich purple satchel is here sitting atop the cloak.
  A purple and green silk cloak bearing the Fale sigil is here tossed casually over a pillow in a corner.

  The blocky, rawboned man has arrived from the west.

  The blocky, rawboned man walks over toward a row of silken pillows, extending his wyvern and scorpion-etched wineglass out to you.

  The blocky, rawboned man sits down to rest, upon a silk-covered pillow.

  The blocky, rawboned man holds a wyvern and scorpion-etched wineglass.

  The blocky, rawboned man sips from the glass.

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman nods to the blocky, rawboned man, smiling as she bring the wineglass to her lips.

  You hold the glass.

  This tastes like strongly spiced brandy.

  The blocky, rawboned man closely eyes you.

  Furrowing his thick brows as he reaches out to graze your cheek with his fingertips, the blocky, rawboned man says to you, in sirihish:
       "You are such a beautiful woman, Kelbina."

  Her eyes meeting the blocky, rawboned man's, you ask the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:
       "Then why do you insist I call you Lord Commander when I have been calling you Lord Pretarius?"

  The blocky, rawboned man says to you, in sirihish:
       "I preferred the formality, and it would serve to let a certain person think a certain way about my affiliation with you."

  Frowning deeply, the blocky, rawboned man says to you, in sirihish:
       "Now why did you.. you prefer the company of that man Amos, over mine."

  The blocky, rawboned man exclaims to you, in sirihish:
       "One could hardly even call him a man!"

  Simply, you say to the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:
       "He likes to laugh, and doesn't glare at me when I flirt with him in public."

  Grinning slightly, you say, in sirihish:
       "And he likes shopping."

  The blocky, rawboned man shifts on his pillow, his face reddening as he brings his wyvern and scorpion-etched wineglass to his lips.

  The blocky, rawboned man drinks spice brandy from a wyvern and scorpion-etched w
  ineglass.

  The blocky, rawboned man says to you, in sirihish:
       "He is commoner filth, and consistently late, and far too feminine."

  The blocky, rawboned man smacks his lips loudly, peering into his wyvern and sco
  rpion-etched wineglass.

  Shaking a white-knuckled fist, the blocky, rawboned man exclaims to you, in siri
  hish:
       "I am Borsail! I expect more than his half-assed service!"

  The blocky, rawboned man stops using a wyvern and scorpion-etched wineglass.

  A golden kank prances behind the blocky, rawboned man and waves its pinchers.

  The blocky, rawboned man sets his wyvern and scorpion-etched wineglass down upon the floor.

  Raising her voice slightly, you say to the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:
       "He can not help if the crafters are slow......"

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman blinks, looking around.

  The blocky, rawboned man drops a wyvern and scorpion-etched wineglass.

  The blocky, rawboned man's face swirls into a green and purple mirage, before turning normal again.

  The blocky, rawboned man says to you, in sirihish:
       "And you, you believe you can mock my title, and get away with it."

  A golden kank waves its pinchers and giggles, nibbling on the blocky, rawboned man's hair.

  Blinking a few times before glaring at him, you say to the blocky, rawboned man,
   in sirihish:
       "I have never mocked your title. I simply never liked calling you by it. It made me feel like I was employed under you, which I am not."

  Continuing, you exclaim to the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:
       "You may not see us Fales as equals, but we are pretty Krath darned close!"

  A golden kank nods agreeably, turning and prancing off.

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman's eyes bulge as she stares at the blocky, rawboned man's head.

  Lips twisting into a sneer, the blocky, rawboned man asks you, in sirihish:
       "How -dare- you say something like that?"

  Still staring intently at the top of his head, you ask the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:
       "Uh, what?"

  A tiny cockroach scuttles over the blocky, rawboned man's shoulder, pausing to wave.

  A tiny cockroach scuttles down the blocky, rawboned man's arm beneath his shirt.

  Narrowing his eyes, the blocky, rawboned man asks you, in sirihish:
       "What are you looking at?"

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman screams, her eyes on the blocky, rawboned man's arm as she scrambles backwards.

  The blocky, rawboned man turns an incredulous look down on his arm.

  A tiny cockroach scuttles back up the blocky, rawboned man's shoulder and looks at you, screaming.

  A tiny cockroach giggles and scurries off, dissolving.

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman yelps.

  You say, in sirihish:

       "IT'S A ROACH! IT-"

  Frowning, you say, in sirihish:

       "it's gone."

  The blocky, rawboned man's fatty lips twitch as he slowly rises to his feet.

  You say to the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:

       "I didn't know roaches could giggle."

  
  The blocky, rawboned man rises from the ground, and clambers to his feet.

  
  You feel a tingling sensation in your head, which slowly clears.

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman frowns, rubbing her head.

  Scowling, the blocky, rawboned man says to you, in sirihish:

       "On your knees, and kiss my boots madwoman."

  Faintly, you say to the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:

       "I think someone was messing with my mind..."

  A foreign presence contacts your mind.

  The purple-dreadlocked, dark-skinned woman(guard) sends you a telepathic message:

      "The gardener here is rather cute...although I'd rather be smoking spice. *laughs warmly*"

  The purple-dreadlocked, dark-skinned woman(guard) sends you a telepathic message:

      "*musingly* Are you having fun? I hope so... because this is boring."

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman giggles.

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

  The blocky, rawboned man says to you, in sirihish:

       "You Fales have never been very sound of mind."

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

  The purple-dreadlocked, dark-skinned woman sends you a telepathic message:

      "I'll just pick on Chaiten...*giggles*"

  You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
   
  Sighing as she pushes to her feet, you exclaim to the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:

       "I mean I think something -else- was messing with my mind... There was a golden kank dancing behind you, and then a roach was crawling on your shoulder and down your arm!"

  
  Scowling down on you, the blocky, rawboned man asks you, in sirihish:

       "Didn't you hear me, girl?"

  Lifting an eyebrow, you ask the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:

       "About kissing your boots?"
   
  You say to the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:

       "I shall not do anything of the sort. Furthermore, I am not one of your guards that you can order around."

  
  Turning his back to you as he reaches under his black silk robe, the blocky, rawboned man says to you, in sirihish:

       "No, of course not."

  Quietly, you say to the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:

       "I did not mean to offent or mock your title with the way I said it. If it sounded like that I apologize."

  His large hand stilling under his black silk robe, the blocky, rawboned man says to you, in sirihish:

       "You should have known. Known not to insult, and better respect your betters."

  Sharply, the blocky, rawboned man says to you, in sirihish:

       "Do as I told you, Kelbina! With how often you flap your tongue, your words have no meaning to me."
   
  Calmly, you say to the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:

       "I am sorry Lord Commander, but I will not kiss your boots. Although Fale is only a Middle House, it is still a House."

  The blocky, rawboned man draws a chitin-bladed khopesh longknife.

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

  The blocky, rawboned man whirls around to face you, jabbing his chitin-bladed khopesh longknife out into the air.
   
  You suffer from use of the Way.
  You contact the purple-dreadlocked, dark-skinned woman with the Way.

  The blocky, rawboned man exclaims to you, in sirihish:

       "I won't be denied, Kelbina!"

  The use of the Way drains you.

  The use of the Way drains you.
   
  Your vision goes black.

  You can not maintain your psionic contact.

  Someone stares down on you, exhaling loudly as he lowers his chitin-bladed khopesh longknife.
   
  Someone makes his way toward someone with you stretched between his arms.

  Your head clears and your eyes flutter open.

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman groans softly, her eyes half-open.
   
  The Waiting Room [NSU]

     The glossy russet tiles of the floor and white stuccoed walls
  brighten the character of this waiting room outside the Borsail office.
  A lavish tapestry covers much of the eastern wall, rising above a low
  table and collection of chairs extending from the southeastern corner.
  Tall, shuttered windows admit cool drafts of air, while turning the
  crimson sun aside from the elegant jade statues upon pedestals close by.
     Narrow stairs ascend from the guard station in the northwestern
  corner, and broad doors lead north to the estate's gates outside and
  south into the office.
  A somber sentry of House Borsail stands here, relaying messages.
  The purple-dreadlocked, dark-skinned woman is standing here.
  The green-haired, green tattooed man is here, watching the area carefully.

  
  Peering down on you, the blocky, rawboned man asks you, in sirihish:

       "Are you alright?"

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman blinks at the blocky, rawboned man.

  
  The blocky, rawboned man releases you, and you immediately move away.

  The blocky, rawboned man sets you on your feet gently.
   
  Griping his arm as she steadies herself, you say to the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:

       "Um, I think so..."

  The blocky, rawboned man says to you, in sirihish:

       "I believe your men here, can help you to your Estate."
   
  The blocky, rawboned man says to you, in sirihish:

       "Perhaps you should get some rest.."

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman nods lightly to the blocky, rawboned man.

  The purple-dreadlocked, dark-skinned woman quickly moves over to you, taking her arm gently.

  The blocky, rawboned man clasps his hands at his rear.

  Quietly, you say to the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:

       "I'm sorry for what's been said here today."

  
  The blocky, rawboned man nods wordlessly to you.

  Straightening, you ask the blocky, rawboned man, in sirihish:

       "Show me out, if you would?"
   
  [She leaves the estate with her two guards, leaving one to go about his business, the other to accompany her to her room...]

  A Bedroom [W]
  
  

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman groans.

  Lowing herself onto a four-poster agafari wood bed, you ask the purple-dreadlocked, dark-skinned woman, in sirihish:

       "Thank you, if you'll wait outside my rooms please?"

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman turns over in a four-poster agafari wood bed, mumbling to herself.

  Sitting up suddenly, you exclaim, in sirihish:

       "My cloak and satchel!!"

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman stumbles out of a four-poster agafari wood bed, throwing open the door.

  Upstairs Hallway [ESWD]

  You exclaim to the purple-dreadlocked, dark-skinned woman, in sirihish:

       "All my stuff! It's in the Borsail estate!"

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman grips the doorframe, swaying slightly.
   
  Lifting a free hand to her head, you say to the purple-dreadlocked, dark-skinned woman, in sirihish:

       "Would you ask Waesnert or Larielle to speak with Lord Pretarius? I... I don't think I can talk
  with him any time soon."
   
  A Bedroom [W]

  [She lays down for a while and then gets up....]

  Templars' Way [NES]

  You exclaim to the human soldier, in sirihish:

       "Excuse me!"

  You say to the human soldier, in sirihish:

       "Have you seen a templar about? I wish to speak to one if possible...."
   
  The human soldier walks south.

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman rolls her eyes.

  [She walks to...]

  'The Trader's Inn' [WU]
  You sit down at a large round table in the center of the room.
   
  You feel a slight tingling sensation in your head.
   
  [She begins walking again...]

  Meleth's Circle [NE]

  You feel a slight tingling sensation in your mind.
   
  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman frowns, rubbing her head.

  Caravan Road [EW]

  A golden kank trots in front of you, clacking its pinchers.

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman yelps, looking around.

  
  A golden kank yelps, looking around, clacking its pinchers.

  
  A golden kank stops and faces you, giggling.
   
  Blinking at a golden kank, you ask, in sirihish:

       "You! How did you get in there with out Lord Pretarius seeing you?"

  A golden kank giggles and turns, clacking its pinchers wildly and racing off.

  You think:

       "I must be losing my mind."

  You think:

       "No more spice."

  [She contunes walking...]

  The Gladiator and the Gaj Tavern -- Main Room [NES]
  
  

  You ask the petite, honey-haired young woman, in sirihish:

       "Pearl! Can I sit?"

  The dark, cold-eyed man says to the petite, honey-haired young woman, in sirihish:

       "I hope you get it back then."

  Standing and curtsying to you before reseating herself, the petite, honey-haired young woman says, in sirihish:

       "Of course, my lady."

  At your table, you say in sirihish:

       "Get back what?"

  The dark, cold-eyed man looks down at you.

  
  At your table, the petite, honey-haired young woman says in sirihish, glancing at her hands:

       "Just that my face wrapping that belonged to Lord Ihsahn was stolen."

  
  The dark, cold-eyed man moves back over to the table and offers you a bow.

  At your table, you say in sirihish, frowning:

       "How horrible."

  At your table, you say in sirihish:

       "It's not even worth all that much."

  At your table, the petite, honey-haired young woman says in sirihish, nodding:

       "The thief is in jail though, and he says if he gets out he'll sell it back to me."

  
  At your table, you say in sirihish, smiling at the petite, honey-haired young woman:

       "That's good... Ah, you haven’t seen a golden kank around... Have you?"

  At your table, the petite, honey-haired young woman says in sirihish, blinking at you:

       "You lost a golden kank?"

  The dark, cold-eyed man moves over beside the petite, honey-haired young woman and stands quietly.

  At your table, you say in sirihish:

       "Nooo, but there was a golden kank...  And it -waved- to me."

  At your table, you say in sirihish, frowning:

       "And played with Lord Pretarius's hair."

  The petite, honey-haired young woman says to the dark, cold-eyed man, in sirihish:

       "Cestian? You don't have to stand there..."

  At your table, you say in sirihish:

       "And it -giggled-!"

  The petite, honey-haired young woman blinks at you.

  At your table, the petite, honey-haired young woman says in sirihish:

       "You were smoking spice, weren't you?"

  At your table, you say in sirihish:

       "And that was at the Borsail estate... There was also a roach on Lord Pretarius's shoulder... But he didn't even notice it!"

  
  At your table, you say in sirihish, shaking her head:

       "No, I havn't smoked anything in over a month!"

  The petite, honey-haired young woman covers her mouth with her hand.

  You feel your chair shaking beneath you.

  At your table, you say in sirihish:

       "I was just walking down the road to come here, and saw the kank again!"

  At your table, you say in sirihish, rubbing her head:

       "And my head keeps feeling funny."

  The dark, cold-eyed man slides into a seat.

  The dark, cold-eyed man sits down at a bare agafari table.

  At your table, the petite, honey-haired young woman says in sirihish, glancing to you:

       "Are you sure you're not ill?"

  A tiny cockroach scurries up the petite, honey-haired young woman's arm and waves to you.

  At your table, you say in sirihish, chewing on her lower lip nervously:

       "I hope not."

  A tiny cockroach jumps down and scurries across the floor.

  A golden kank trots into the room and over to the bar, standing on its back legs and looking around.

  Pointing twards a long, scarred bar of agafari wood, you exclaim, in sirihish:

       "There it is!!"

  The petite, honey-haired young woman blinks at you.

  The petite, honey-haired young woman turns to stare at a long, scarred bar of agafari wood.

  A golden kank clacks its pinchers and looks around the room.

  The orange-eyed, blue-haired elf looks down at you.

  The petite, honey-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:

       "My lady...that's just the bar."

  You ask the petite, honey-haired young woman, in sirihish:

       "No, no, it's standing -at- the bar! You don't see it?"

  The petite, honey-haired young woman squints at a long, scarred bar of agafari wood.

  The orange-eyed, blue-haired elf raises an eyebrow, looking around.

  The huge and thin elf looks up to you and scratches his head.

  The petite, honey-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:

       "My lady, have you been drinking?"

  A golden kank lowers and trots next to the petite, honey-haired young woman, clacking its pinchers with a giggle.

  You say to the petite, honey-haired young woman, in sirihish:

       "Um... Lord Commander gave me some wine...."

  You exclaim, in sirihish:

       "EEK! LOOK OUT!"

  You exclaim to the petite, honey-haired young woman, in sirihish:

       "It's going to snap your head off!"

  Frowning slightly to herself, the petite, honey-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:

       "Lady Kelbina...did you see this kank before then? No...its alright..its not there..."

  A golden kank waves an antennae and giggles.

  A golden kank says, in sirihish, "She's cute, but...not my type.."

  Glancing to the dark, cold-eyed man, the petite, honey-haired young woman says, in sirihish:

       "I don't even know who to call."
   
  Frowning into your wyvern and scorpion-etched wineglass, you say to the petite, honey-haired young woman, in sirihish:

       "I think I saw it before I took a sip... But that's all I've have...."

  To the air next to the petite, honey-haired young woman, you say, in sirihish:

       "I should hope not."

  A golden kank giggles and trots over to you, waving an antennae over the wineglass.

  The petite, honey-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:

       "We'll take you to your estate. It can't go there.."

  A golden kank says, in sirihish, "You would think the Borsails would have better wine. And he thinks he is above you... Ffft! Your brandy beats his any day."

  Wailing, you exclaim to the petite, honey-haired young woman, in sirihish:

       "Yes it can!"

  The long haired, tall woman looks at you.
   
  To the air next to herself, you exclaim, in sirihish:

       "He sure won't be getting any more of -that-!"

  A golden kank nods emphatically, clacking its pinchers.

  A golden kank giggles and turns, trotting out of the inn.

  Looking over at you, the dark gray, indigo-haired elf slowly shakes his head.

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman blinks, gazing out the door.

  Calling out to the tavern, the husky, spike-haired man says, in sirihish:

       "If anyone is in need for some antipoison tablets, just come see me at the bar. Thirty sids to save your life."

  You feel a slight tingling sensation in your head, which slowly dissapates.

  The slender, glowing-eyed girl peers up at the purple-dreadlocked, dark-skinned woman as she combs through her hair, smirking lightly.

  You say, in sirihish:

       "It's gone."

  The petite, honey-haired young woman rubs her forehead.

  The purple-dreadlocked, dark-skinned woman stares down at the slender, glowing-eyed girl and returns the smirk amusedly.

  You exclaim to the petite, honey-haired young woman, in sirihish:

       "I think it's a mindbender!"

  Nodding slowly, the petite, honey-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:

       "Lady Kelbina... I think maybe you should go home and rest a bit... the kank?"

  The orange-eyed, blue-haired elf turns his head, looking at you.

  The purple-dreadlocked, dark-skinned woman grins to herself and looks around the room.

  The tall, azure-eyed man looks down at you.
   
  Rubbing her head, you say to the petite, honey-haired young woman, in sirihish:

       "My head keeps tingeling when I see the kank and the roach..."

  The petite, honey-haired young woman furrows her brow.

  The angular-faced, slate-eyed man looks at the tall, azure-eyed man.

  The slender, glowing-eyed girl shifts her gaze to you as she continues to comb through her hair and hum softly.

  Nodding quietly, the petite, honey-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:

       "Then you need to report it to the templarate."

  Moaning, you exclaim to the petite, honey-haired young woman, in sirihish:

       "I can't find a templar!"
   
  At your table, the dark, cold-eyed man says in sirihish:

       "M'lady, You're seeing things."

  At your table, you say in sirihish, faintly:

       "Yes, I belive I am...."

  The petite, honey-haired young woman asks you, in sirihish:

       "Tell Hacket. He's supposed to protect you,  yes?"

  At your table, you say in sirihish, pushing to her feet:

       "I'm going to go back to Traders...."

  The petite, honey-haired young woman nods at you.
   
  The petite, honey-haired young woman says to you, in sirihish:

       "Be careful, my lady."

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman wonders in a daze out the door, prushing past the tarp.

  You can't see a thing!

  Terrible, biting sand whips around you.
  You can't see a thing!

  You exclaim, in sirihish:

       "Ha! Let's see the kank in -this- weather!"

  Terrible, biting sand whips around you.
  You can't see a thing!

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman coughs and sputters as sand gets in her mouth.
   
  You think:

       "Never talk in a sandstorm."
   
  [She walks for a while...]

  'The Trader's Inn' [WU]
   
  You dust yourself off.
   
  You sit down at a large round table in the center of the room.
   
  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman looks around nerviously.
   
  You think:

       "I hope the kank doesn't come in here...."

  You think:
       "If me leaves me in here I shall never forgive him."

  You think:
       "Actually I probably will."

  The tiny, gold-purple haired woman sighs softly.

  Noble's Quarters [W]
     Lavish drapes of linen highlighted by strips of satin frame the two large
  windows in the starboard wall, while...

  
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