Original Submissions
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Motivation by Ajm
Added on Feb 11, 2009A Byn sarge's speech to his runners before battle.
Motivation
A grizzled, stocky Dwarf paced in front of his crew with authority. He was a Byn Sarge, looking approvingly over the assembled group, the brown stained cloaks and patches that donned their shoulders. A little under a small of men, Dwarves and Elves all stood alert, their hands proudly up to their chest in salute. All eyes were trained on the leader in front of them.
“Listen up feckers!” ordered the commanding Dwarf in agruff voice. He makes sure to hold the gaze of each individual as he speaks. “One day dere was a man. Dis man was da bes’ feckin’ runner ya woul’ eva’ meet. He coul’ take down a ‘alf-giant as if et were a kank fly!” His gloved hands slam together, creating a heavy, sudden noise, and squishing a bug is simulated.
“Dis man wen’ ta the lactrine an’ had a shit. The man was so feckin’ grea’ that his shit go’ up and started talkin’. Just then a Git’ comes outa the sewer catching the man with his pants down!” His mouth twisted into a half smile, while is eyes glared at an elf.
The watched Elf shifted uncomfortably, breaking the gaze by bowing his head. With a smirk, the Dwarf continued speaking and moving down the line.
“The Git’ may have killed da man bu’ da shit caugh’ da Git’ in his hand and broke da Git’s neck with his thumb. That Shit became stronger dan anytin’ in all o’ zalanthas. That shit coul’ take down a mekk’ sittin’ an’ one time he did jus’ that.” He paused, eyes briefly scanning the crown for any inattentive behaviour before starting again.
“Eventually that shit go’ old and knew et was time. The shit wen’ to da lactrine and too’ a shit of his own. The second Shit was so big it too’ everything from da first shit so that da firs’ shit was not’ing more den roach foo’”.
A lanky brown-haired man scrunched his nose as he watched the Sarge pace by.
“Da secon’ shit was so fast, dat et feckin’ stole da sarge’s club an’ killed ‘im before anyone coul’ blink. That second shit lead the Fist for many years withou’ even one death! One time a Kaduis wagon fell o’ da wall. They say da second shit jumped down afta’ et. Down da feckin’ wall! An hour lata the shit came back up wit da Kadian still alive. The silker said dat da shit ran so fas’ dat he ran righ’ up da wall carryin’ him on his back!”
One of the younger men in the back scratched the back of his head. He froze as the Dwarf landed a glare on him, then snapped back into attention. The Dwarf gave a low grumble and continued on.
“When dat shit was rea’y to go et had a shit. Da thir’ shit was so smar’ that et learn’d evert’ing dere was to learn. Dat thir’ shit killed a half giant jus’ by explainin’ somtin’ to et. They say the giant’s head exploded from too much knowledge enterin’ et at da same time.” He looked up at two half-giants in the back, slitting his eyes.
“Da Shit’s ‘ad a reputation now. Nobles an’ Templars resp’cted da whole shit family. Da thir’ Shit knew da meanin’ o’ life an’ everytin’. He ‘ad a plan. Dat thir’ shit Swell’d, he began ta grow. He grew bigger dan a half-giant. He grew bigger dan a Mekk. Den he grew more. When he finished growing… He took a shit.”
“From de thir’ shit came for’y shits!” His gruff voice was now raised in a yell, words echoing off the back wall. “An’ you feckers are dem for’y shits!”
He stops to scan the crowed, looking each of them over, before staring at a bulky dwarf, declaring, “You are feckin’ shit, runner!” Eyes looking over the group, his voice booms out, “You ‘er all feckin’ shit!”
Once the words finish echoing, he continues into the silence, “Forty o’ de bes’ feckin’ shit in all Zalanthas. So we es goin’ ou’ dere an’ we es goin’ ta feckin’ kill an’ feckin’ win. Don’ let yer sarge down! Don’ feckin’ let yer family down! In HIS SHADE WE MARCH!”
~AJM~
Motivation
A grizzled, stocky Dwarf paced in front of his crew with
authority. He was a Byn Sarge, looking approvingly over the assembled group,
the brown stained cloaks and patches that donned their shoulders. A little
under a small of men, Dwarves and Elves all stood alert, their hands ...
Continue Reading...War Dirge (The Soldier's Life) by Gimfalisette
Added on Feb 11, 2009Attributed to a soldier of the Allanaki militia in the time just after the gith invasion of year 39, age 21, this song mournfully expresses the melancholy and bleakness of long service.
Heard of Sergeant Laila Makarim, Jade Saber Legion
The soldier's life is a hard, hard life,
And death is our sole reward;
But none can say I won't fight, fight, fight,
And die with blood on my sword.
The soldier's meal is a tasteless meal,
Spiced with the stench of the dead;
Swallow back anything that I feel, feel, feel,
And just take what they give me for bread.
The soldier's bed is a rough, thin bed,
And sleep is plagued by the dark;
Though I rise at the dawn feelin' dead, dead, dead,
Still my blow seeks the enemy's heart.
The soldier's friend is a soon-dead friend,
And the weight of a blade in her hand;
When it all comes down to the end, end, end,
Every soldier's alone on the sand.
The soldier's death is a lonely death,
Her companions are all gone before;
I gave sweat, I gave tears with each breath, breath, breath,
And I'll die when I've got nothing more.
The soldier's fate is a swift, swift fate,
There's few that will live to be old;
Lay me down on the altar in state, state, state,
Burn away what has finally gone cold.Heard of Sergeant Laila Makarim, Jade Saber Legion
The soldier's life is a hard, hard life,
And death is our sole reward;
But none can say I won't fight, fight, fight,
And die with blood on my sword.
The soldier's meal is a tasteless meal,
Spiced with the stench of the dead;
Swallow back anything that I...
Continue Reading...Byn Tales IV: The Hawk and The Songbird by Evil Erdlu
Added on Feb 9, 2009Clubbing others in the head is not enough for this dwarf. He aims even more brain damage with his stories.
You ask the lean, white-haired man, in sirihish:
"Story time?"You get your pair of chitin-banded gauntlets from your double-layered sandcloth pack.
It is very light.You pull your pair of chitin-banded gauntlets onto your hands.
The lean, white-haired man says to you, in sirihish:
"I don't have one to tell."You say to the lean, white-haired man, in sirihish:
"I made up one..."You sit at a long, chipped stone table.
At your table, the lean, white-haired man says in sirihish:
"Sure lets hear it."At your table, the lean, white-haired man says in sirihish:
"This another Bob story?"
At your table, you say in sirihish, placing his palms on the table:
"Once upon a time, there was a hawk in the endless scrubs of the northern lands..."At your table, you say in sirihish, shaking his head:
"Nay.. Bob's been killed by Exile after he joined Salarr."At your table, the lean, white-haired man says in sirihish:
"Hah Bob finally died..."At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Anyway.. The hawk indeed liked good music, and the most he delighted was the beautiful singing of a grey-headed songbird."At your table, you say in sirihish, after smacking his lips:
"He really did want to be friends with the songbird and one day, he approached."At your table, you say in sirihish, grinning:
"The songbird nearly took flight in haste when hawk spoke. "I want to be only friends.." said hawk."At your table, you say in sirihish:
"The songbird didn't believe. Hawks always ate the smaller birds and why wasn't that a trick, a cheap one at that?"At your table, you say in sirihish, nodding slowly:
"Days and days passed, hawk pursued the songbird. He never did harm, only tried to convince the poor little bird that he was after the songbird's songs, not his flesh."At your table, you say in sirihish:
"At last, the songbird got convinced, they became friends and started wandering together. Songbird ate in relief that the hawk was protecting him and he sang to the hawk all the time."At your table, you say in sirihish, eyes grown a bit:
"But.. one day.. A defiler decided to play a little trick to the local humans.. He created an immense, magickal storm. Lightning flashed everywhere, the scrub caught fire and dust and sand covered the sky."At your table, you say in sirihish:
"The poor hawk and the songbird found sanctuary in the hollowed trunk of an ancient agafari tree. Days have passed but the unnatural storm didn't seem to cease."At your table, you say in sirihish:
"One day, while the songbird was singing a lovely song the hawk exploded.. He said "You're giving me headache with all the chirping! Shut up!" and ate the songbird."The lean, white-haired man chuckles.
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"So, the lesson learned is; if you're food for someone, keep away."The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf smiles proudly.
You ask the lean, white-haired man, in sirihish:
"Story time?"You get your pair of chitin-banded gauntlets from your double-layered sandcloth pack.
It is very light.You pull your pair of chitin-banded gauntlets onto your hands.
The lean, white-haired man says to you, in sirihish:
"I...
Continue Reading...Byn Tales III: Mellie the Dwarf by Evil Erdlu
Added on Feb 9, 2009The stew of Byn is as thick as a dwarf's skull.. But maybe it contains spice one wonders, hearing what this dwarf has to say.
As he wanders over to a long, chipped stone table, you ask the lean, white-haired man, in sirihish:
"New story?"You sit at a long, chipped stone table.
The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf offers a nod at the straight-backed, scar-faced man.
The lean, white-haired man says to you, in sirihish:
"Nah nothing new here."The straight-backed, scar-faced man nods at you.
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Then shall I tell one?"At your table, the straight-backed, scar-faced man says in rinthi-accented sirihish:
"Fecking got my shield tailored instead of repaired, like an idiot."The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf bobs his head to a side.
At your table, the straight-backed, scar-faced man says in rinthi-accented sirihish:
"Now I gotta pay for both, and Salarr wants 90 sid to repair it. Ninety bleeding sid."At your table, the straight-backed, scar-faced man says in rinthi-accented sirihish, exasperatedly:
"Tell me a story, get my mind off it."At your table, you say in sirihish, with a grunt:
"I can't get my bracer from the tailor. I don't have the money for it for long.."At your table, you say in sirihish, after a sigh:
"Anyway..."At your table, you say in sirihish, after licking his lips:
"Once upon a time, there was a dwarven woman called Mellie.. She was very very beautiful."At your table, you say in sirihish, eyes narrowed:
"Not that you humans can understand, but her head was in perfect shape, her breasts the size of melons and her waist was just as thick as it should be.. Anyway..."At your table, you say in sirihish, looking around:
"Her aim in life was to get married to the strongest being in the known world.. So she believed, what's stronger than the sun?"At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Years and years she seeked the correct Suk-Krathi, then she paid him all her belongings to make her speak to the sun itself..."At your table, you say in sirihish, shaking his head:
"Sorrily, sun's answer was simple; "Seek the storms, Mellie. Because they cover me up whenever they want. When it comes to might, they are stronger.". Mellie decided sun was telling the truth."The straight-backed, scar-faced man chuckles as he listens to your tale, motioning to the buxom, brown-haired maidservant.
The buxom, brown-haired maidservant spoons some thick, chunky liquid from her pot into a bowl, and serves a bowl of stew for the straight-backed, scar-faced man.
The straight-backed, scar-faced man eats a portion of his bowl of stew.
The straight-backed, scar-faced man eats a portion of his partially eaten bowl of stew.
The straight-backed, scar-faced man eats a portion of his half eaten bowl of stew.
The straight-backed, scar-faced man eats a portion of his small portion of a bowl of stew.
The straight-backed, scar-faced man eats his small portion of a bowl of stew.
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"So, she found an Elkran this time. She paid all the gems she found for four years. She started speaking to the storms after a rituel."At your table, you say in sirihish, with a wide grin:
"Storm didn't believe he was the strongest being, too. He said wind can sweep him all the way across the known world, so Mellie should seek the wind."At your table, you say in sirihish, patting on his chest:
"Dwarves never give up. So Mellie found a whiran this time, offered him all the money she gathered from five years of tailoring. Yada yada, she spoke to the wind. This time wind declared; mountain is stronger than the..."At your table, you say in sirihish:
".. wind, because mountain never bows down to even the strongest of the wind."The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf falls silent a moment, then proceeds.
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Then... Mellie found a dwarven Rukkian and slept with him several times to pay for a rituel to speak to the mountain."At your table, you say in sirihish, shaking his head:
"Again, mountain said: 'A dwarf digs me down all the way for years, extracting the gems deep within me. I can do nothing to stop him. He's stronger than I am.'"At your table, you say in sirihish:
"So..."At your table, you say in sirihish, after a chuckle:
"Mellie got married to a filthy dwarven miner who had the crazy idea that he can find metal deep within the mountain. They had six children."At your table, you say in sirihish:
"End of story..."The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf smiles proudly.
The straight-backed, scar-faced man laughs.
The straight-backed, scar-faced man asks you, in rinthi-accented sirihish:
"The size of melons, you say?"At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Yes, I dislike large breasts."As he wanders over to a long, chipped stone table, you ask the lean, white-haired man, in sirihish:
"New story?"You sit at a long, chipped stone table.
The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf offers a nod at the straight-backed, scar-faced man.
The lean, white-haired man says to you, in...
Continue Reading...Exile's Lament (I Am Far From Home) by Renaissance
Added on Jan 22, 2009A song written by an Elkinhym bard who spent a long time in Allanak.
I am far from home, far from home, from which I did roam, I did roam.
I went to the South, to the South, where it is uncouth, it's uncouth.
I walked in the street, in the street, in the dust and heat, dust and heat.
Once I was in Nak, was in Nak, I want to be back, to be back.
I am far from home, far from home, from which I did roam, I did roam.
Two long months away, months away, from the forest grey, forest grey.
I played for the Fale, for the Fale, and listened to tales, to the tales.
I was so alone, so alone, with friends of my own, friends of own.
I am far from home, far from home, from which I did roam, I did roam.
But it wasn't my home, not my home, nor family own, family own.
Nothing there is art, nothing's art, with a bit of heart, bit of heart.
It is black and dust, black and dust, the tower of rust, tower of rust.
I am far from home, far from home, from which I did roam, I did roam.
I am far from home, far from home, from
which I did roam, I did roam.
I went to the South, to the South, where it
is uncouth, it's uncouth.
I walked in...
Continue Reading...Byn Tales II: The Bahamet and The Hawk by Evil Erdlu
Added on Jan 22, 2009Our stumpy Bynner seems to have more stories...
You say, in sirihish:
"Story time..."You stop resting, and stand up.
The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf moves for his backpack.
You pick up a double-layered sandcloth pack.
It is no problem, and more than half full.You pull your pair of chitin-banded gauntlets onto your hands.
The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf walks back to his spot.
You sit down.
The lean, white-haired man asks you, in sirihish:
"So what is this new story?"You say to the lean, white-haired man, in sirihish:
"Bahamet Bob and the Hawk, the new story is.."You ask the lean, white-haired man, in sirihish:
"Since I'm broke, I don't feel like going to a tavern or something. Tell it here?"The lean, white-haired man says to you, in sirihish:
"Sure."The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf nods with a grin.
The anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf puts his small bone vial into his pouched, sturdy leather tool belt.
Voice soft, you say, in sirihish:
"Once upon a time, there was a vicious bahamet, Bahamet Bob.. He was fond of his might and fierce claws."The anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf asks you, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Ye' ever seen a bahamet?"You say, in sirihish:
"Less known fact is, Bob always delighted the taste of fresh hawk eggs."You say to the anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf, in sirihish:
"Pictures, eh? Close up? Thankfully not."Nodding, the anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf says, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Forsooth, they be even nicer in person."The anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf nods.
You say, in sirihish:
"Even though really tiny, Bob often spent a good time hunting eggs from hawk nests."The anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf gets his new stained black, scalemail breastplate of bone from his large bag.
The anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf wears his new stained black, scalemail breastplate of bone on his body, covering a series of bloody-inked handprints.
The anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf gets his pair of one-striped studded sleeves from his large bag.
The anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf fits his pair of one-striped studded sleeves on his arms, covering a twisting chain of black and grey ink.
The anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf gets his durrit-claw bracer from his large bag.
The anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf gets his durrit-claw bracer from his large bag.
You say, in sirihish:
"One day, really frustrated with her two hundredth egg to Bob, mama hawk decided this should stop."The anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf fastens his durrit-claw bracer around his wrist, covering a simple, single stripe tattoo.
The anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf fastens his durrit-claw bracer around his wrist, covering a simple, single stripe tattoo.
Grinning, you say, in sirihish:
"She was a wise hawk, she knew the only thing that can overcome Bob should be humans."You say, in sirihish:
"So, she flew over the ivory city of Tuluk, in wait."Eyes narrowed, you say, in sirihish:
"When she saw a silk-clad merchant preparing to hand an armored human a pouch.."With a downright motion of his hand, you say, in sirihish:
"Swoosh... She dived, caught the pouch and flew away."Nodding a few times, you say, in sirihish:
"She kept in sight of the yelling and pursuing humans, though. She wanted them to follow her."You say, in sirihish:
"She slowly made her way to Bahamet Bob, with the armored human and a few of his friends behind."The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf lets out a soft sigh.
You say, in sirihish:
"Her plan was making the humans hunt down the bahamet to retrieve back the pouch but... You know, Bahamet Bob never loses."The lean, white-haired man asks the anakore-visaged, barrel-chested dwarf, in sirihish:
"So you think Bob gets killed?"Quickly, you say, in sirihish:
"Bob ate the heads of the humans, then the hawk."The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf smiles proudly.
You say, in sirihish:
"Eh, I made it up just yesterday.. I know it can be improved."The lean, white-haired man asks you, in sirihish:
"What do big fight scene?"The lean, white-haired man asks you, in sirihish:
"No fight scene that is. He just up and bites off their heads?"You say, in sirihish:
"It's a fucking bahamet! He does so indeed. Those are just measly humans.. Err.. current company not included for the last remark."The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf grins again, revealing crooked, yellow teeth.
You say, in sirihish:
"Story time..."You stop resting, and stand up.
The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf moves for his backpack.
You pick up a double-layered sandcloth pack.
It is no problem, and more than half full.You pull your pair of chitin-banded gauntlets onto your hands.
The...
Continue Reading...Bard of Driamusek by Ourla
Added on Jan 18, 2009"Secrets are not my concern. Keeping them is."
The Meeting of the Allanaki Senate in the Year 28 of the 21st Age by ale six
Added on Dec 24, 2008The following is a log of the meeting of the Allanaki Senate in the 28th Year of the 21st Age, as seen through the eyes and ears of Lady Ceylara Borsail. The meeting took place shortly after the Copper War. As is usual for Senate meetings, the Senators of each House debate issues on the floor, while lower ranking nobility, their servants, and members of the merchant houses observe from the balcony above.
Cast of Major Characters on the balcony:
the short, scar-eyed templar - Great Lord Templar Malenthis Jal, the Red
the warbraided, smoke-eyed man - Warlord Kharad Tor
the slight, silver-crowned woman - Lady Ceylara Borsail (her perspective)
the svelte, ivory-skinned - Lord Sahale Borsail
the plump, prismatic-haired woman - Lady Lapitia Fale
the lofty, hazel-skinned man - Advisor Diarev Salarr
the thick, curly-haired man - Overseer Sharlo Kadius
the willowy, onyx-haired teen - Merchant Dueden Kadius
the stocky, clean-shaven man - Agent Rokov Kurac
the chubby, brown-haired man - Agent Brethel Kurac
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A Wide, Lanturin Balustrade [ED]
The recessed details of the fluted ceiling disappears within the confined
shadows of the darkness above while the effigy of a jade cross dominates
the obsidian floor below. Its maw opened in a scowling snarl, a massive
obsidian dragon head glares out across the Senate chambers from the western
wall. Directly beneath the dragon's head lies a stage made from crimson
grained lanturin wood. Situated in the center of the stage is a sheer,
obsidian podium while behind it, directly beneath the dragon head, sit three
massive obsidian thrones.
The balcony itself is formed from the same lanturin wood as the stage
below, each plank laid out with masterful care. Twisting jade rails rise
upwards with authority from the edge of the balcony to form an august,
malachite balustrade. Latifolous tables, one for each of the nine noble
Houses of Allanak, sit interspersed across the balcony. Formed from ebon
stained baobab, they have been draped with silks dyed to match the various
colors of each House.
The aquiline, blond man stands sentry here, his blue eyes watchful.
The stocky, clean-shaven man is sitting on a carved cylini bench.
The slender, raven-haired lass is standing here.
The feminine, smooth-featured man stands watchfully here.
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female is sitting on a carved cylini bench.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man is sitting at an elegant, baobab table.
The tall figure in a dusty grey, wyvern-adorned hooded aba is standing here.
The balding, sun-scarred man stands here, watching attentively.
The lofty, hazel-skinned man is sitting on a carved cylini bench.
The towering, black-skinned man stands here.
The willowy, onyx-haired teen is standing here.
The pallid, serpentine inked man is standing here.
The thick, curly-haired man is sitting on a carved cylini bench.
A half-giant soldier of Tektolnes walks along here.
The short, scar-eyed templar is standing here.
The bald, eye-scarred half-giant is standing here.
The very short and thick figure in a scorpion-emblazoned, smoky-grey cloak is standing here.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man is standing here.
The tall and thick figure in a scorpion-emblazoned, smoky-grey cloak is standing here.
The obese, bald man is sitting on a carved cylini bench.
The lissome, kohl-eyelined man is standing here.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman is standing here.
The short, barrel-chested dwarf stands here, scowling faintly.
The chubby, brown-haired man is standing here.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman sends the lissome, kohl-eyelined man a fond smile as she moves between the rows of tables and finally settles at one.
Settling silently by the stocky, clean-shaven man, the willowy, onyx-haired teen sits on a carved cylini bench.
In the amphitheater below, the silver-haired, one-eyed woman says, announcing to the floor:
"The balcony is full, and the nobility has arrived to witness."
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man draws out a chair for himself at a table draped in ruby red, black and silver silks.
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"You have Great Lord Jal's support, my Lady Senator. He had one other issue."
Down on the Senate floor, The silver-haired, one-eyed templar makes her way to a small table in the back.
The thick, curly-haired man sits hunched over with his forearms resting on his thighs, eyes skittishly darting about.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, softly:
"Now, I must admit, I am excited."
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"He says he's negotiated a deal with Kurac granting us fortifications in Ten Sarak, and two million sid over twelve years instead of the five hundred thousand at once."
Down on the Senate floor, Working with the stunted, silver-haired old man, the austere narrow-eyed woman unfurls a number of parchments and scrolls.
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female glances down the length of her bench, nodding cordially to the lofty, hazel-skinned man.
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"He asked that you take this in consideration, and vote favorably for them."
A foreign presence contacts your mind.
Tipping a light nod back, smiling, the lofty, hazel-skinned man looks at the sinuous, wyvern-branded female.
At your table, you say in sirihish, quietly:
"It's just amazing."
Down on the Senate floor, Retaining a stiff posture, the thin, silky black-haired man taps a foot as he watches the short, bearded man.
At your table, you say in sirihish, to the svelte, ivory-skinned man, staring down at the floor in wistful awe:
"I'd give anything to be down there."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, softly, to you:
"Yes, you are so quiet, you must just be amazed."
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man sets a large sheaf of paper on the podium before him, bowing respectfully to the silver-haired, one-eyed templar.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, offering a smile to you:
"You will be, someday."
The austere narrow-eyed woman sends you a telepathic message:
"I do not believe that is on the agenda this meet. But yes, we will ally ourself with the Lord Templar of the Red after this, should everything work as planned - so long as the agreement does not harm Borsail."
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"Yes, my Lady. If there's any other aid I can give, please let me know."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in sirihish:
"This is exciting"
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the thick, curly-haired man say in cavilish, quietly to the obese, bald man:
"To.. say the least, good Sadyr."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in sirihish:
"considering I was selling earrings a few days ago, this seems like some sort of vaunted dream"
The plump, prismatic-haired woman curls her fingers toward the lissome, kohl-eyelined man, beckoning him closer.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man clears his throat, looking out across the Senate floor.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"My Lords and Ladies, Lady and Lord Templars, the emergency Senate Meet held on this day of Ocandra, the 166th day of the Low Sun, In the Year of Dragon's Agitation, year 28 of the 21st Age is now open."
Down from here is an Obsidian-Tiled Debate Floor.
[Near]
The silver-haired, one-eyed templar is standing here.
A bristling-bearded, jutnosed man sits at a table at the back.
The wisp-thin, narrow-nosed man sits at a table at the back.
The point-nosed, fine-boned man sits at a table at the back.
The austere narrow-eyed woman is standing here.
The slender, fair-haired woman sits at a table in the back.
The silvery-haired, wiry man sits at a table.
The stunted, silver-haired old man is standing here.
The grim, hawk-eyed man rests a hand on a weapon's pommel as he stands here.
The thin, silky black-haired man is standing here.
The tall, rakish man is here.
A thin, jet-haired page fidgets in his seat near the back.
The angular red-haired man stands here.
A slim, blond-haired scribe sits writing quickly.
The imposing, ivory-haired man stands, hands clasped behind his back.
The balding, pot-bellied man is here.
The angular, jet-haired templar is standing here.
The short, bearded man stands behind a small podium.
The elderly, big-boned woman is standing here
A slight woman, hair the color of fire, watches from her table.
The sleek, fine-boned man sits at a table here.
A lop-jawed, black-haired woman sits listening at her table.
A short, brown-bearded man stands quietly here.
A white-haired matron sits listening, hands folded before her.
A chunky-faced, brazen-haired page stands waiting near the back of the chamber.
A lean, long-haired scribe sits taking notes.
A small, elderly woman sits quietly knitting at her table.
A small, red-haired page moves quietly about the chamber.
A lanky, hard-faced guard waits near a doorway.
The pensive, small-statured man stands with rigid posture, holding parchments.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, to you:
"Cousin Halrum couldn't attend?"
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Apparently not."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, nodding:
"Unfortunate."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the thick, curly-haired man say in cavilish, in a low murmur:
"Very few common men have this sort of-- that's the House Tor Senator, I believe.."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in sirihish:
"What is the emergency anyway?"
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the thick, curly-haired man say in cavilish, quietly:
"Speak cavilish good Sadyr.. I do believe, it all ties in with the war."
The lissome, kohl-eyelined man makes another step towards the plump, prismatic-haired woman, hands remaining within his pockets.
Rising gracefully from his bench, the lofty, hazel-skinned man stands up from a carved cylini bench, and, walking at a quiet stroll, approaches the bench where the stocky, clean-shaven man sits.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman whispers something to the lissome, kohl-eyelined man.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in sirihish, quietly:
"Too bad we didn't get that collar off beforehand."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the chubby, brown-haired man say in cavilish, to the stocky, clean-shaven man:
"Not much we can do about it now."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish:
"Guess not."
The svelte, ivory-skinned man sends you a telepathic message:
"Can you understand the Kuraci?"
The slight, silver-crowned woman nods at the svelte, ivory-skinned man lightly.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man sends you a telepathic message:
"So can I. They think themselves away from our ears."
The svelte, ivory-skinned man chuckles, his gaze falling to the amphitheater below.
Turning away from the crowded bench, the lofty, hazel-skinned man sits on a carved cylini bench, and returns to his old seat.
The lissome, kohl-eyelined man dips a silent nod to the plump, prismatic-haired woman, his gaze wandering westwards for a moment.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says, his voice booming out across the floor:
"As always, if you wish to speak to a proposal please have your scribes contact me and I shall announce you."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"So sir, do they not allow a member of each great house onto the senate floor? Perhaps you yourself may one day be down there"
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the thick, curly-haired man say in cavilish:
"I can't seem to find our House's patriarch.. Solken Kadius.. down yonder.."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the thick, curly-haired man say in cavilish:
"Ahhh there he is.. sitting in the back.."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"I am glad that Kadius is represented and sitting proudly where it should be"
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the thick, curly-haired man say in cavilish:
"As are all the Great Houses, rightfully so."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"The first issue: Whether or not to levy a half-MILLION 'sid fine against House Kurac for their involuntary assistance to the Tulukis during the war. Proposed by Lady Templar Maewon Borsail."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, keeping his voice a low wheezy breath:
"He has been informed."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, rubbing his jawline:
"Good. Now we simply need to get the rest of the Senators aboard."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says, " Lady Templar Maewon, the floor is now yours."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, calmly, looking over towards you:
"Where is Borsail's representation? Can you see it?"
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man inclines his head deeply to the silver-haired, one-eyed templar.
The chubby, brown-haired man grimaces, glancing to the stocky, clean-shaven man.
The bald, eye-scarred half-giant blinks, looking from the floor to the short, scar-eyed templar and back again, his brow furrowing in confusion.
Down on the Senate floor, The silver-haired, one-eyed templar clears her throat, standing up from her seat, quickly moving to the podium.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"This really is an awe inspiring sight."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"Perhaps the very highlight of my bleak existance thusfar, in fact it is."
The thick, curly-haired man lifts a finger to his lips and gazes down with rapt attention.
At your table, you say in sirihish, quietly:
"Lady Cyriaca is down there standing... beside Lord Vedelarin, I think, and..."
Down on the Senate floor, The wisp-thin, narrow-nosed man swallows, looking uncomfortable as he gazes in the direction of the silver-haired, one-eyed templar.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, nodding:
"Ah, there, now I see them."
In the amphitheater below, the silver-haired, one-eyed woman says:
"Senators of Allanak! I will be brief.."
Down on the Senate floor, The slender, fair-haired woman closes her eyes briefly before focusing on the silver-haired, one-eyed templar.
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, rasping softly:
"Lady Senator Khymera Rennik has always supported military expansion."
In the amphitheater below, the silver-haired, one-eyed woman says:
"During the Red Desert War, it was discovered that Tulukis forces were being resupplied by sending their caravans around, and through, Luir's Outpost."
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man's focus shifts attentively to the senate floor.
The austere narrow-eyed woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Curious, dear. Have you any thoughts on this issue?"
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"I think Kurac would have been quite willing to buy our vote off, my Lady. They may still be."
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"But then... voting against a resolution like that in the face of the Great Lady herself... we'd need a few very good reasons to defend them."
In the amphitheater below, the silver-haired, one-eyed woman says:
"We understand that they never lent the Tulukis direct support.."
You notice: The willowy, onyx-haired teen glances tensely at the stocky, clean-shaven man and the chubby, brown-haired man to either side of her.
In the amphitheater below, the silver-haired, one-eyed woman says:
"We also understand that House Kurac could never stand up to the forces of Tuluk should Tuluk attempt to strong-arm them into complying."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish:
"Well, that works in our favor. The Kuraci also offered to grant us information on the Tulukis and give quiet aid, though...I'm not certain how much we can trust that."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish:
"The important parts are the extra income to the city, as well as the free supplies."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, rasping softly:
"I quite agree, though I am not familiar enough with any of the other Senators to contact them directly during a session."
In the amphitheater below, the silver-haired, one-eyed woman says:
"Nevertheless, they aided the enemy, even if unintentionally. Due to their inability to stop it, or control it, the templarate does -not- consider their actions treason."
Down on the Senate floor, The slender, fair-haired woman sits a little forward on her seat, fingers wringing together.
In the amphitheater below, the silver-haired, one-eyed woman says:
"We do however consider their actions reckless and deterimental to the well-being of the city-state of Allanak, and propose the half-million coin fine as punishment."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish, to the chubby, brown-haired man, quietly:
"When did wagons -ever- get through Luir's?"
The chubby, brown-haired man looks to the stocky, clean-shaven man and shakes his head.
In the amphitheater below, the silver-haired, one-eyed woman says:
"With the understanding, they are not traitors."
Down on the Senate floor, The silver-haired, one-eyed templar nods her head once, stepping away from the podium.
The austere narrow-eyed woman sends you a telepathic message:
"See if you can get them to agree to return any escaped slave with our markings without complaint."
The austere narrow-eyed woman sends you a telepathic message:
"And the promise of a new, ten year slave purchasing agreement."
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"Understood, my Lady."
Her gaze lifting from the senate floor momentarily, the plump, prismatic-haired woman looks up at the half-giant soldier, with obvious surprise.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"Half a million coins, I cannot comprehend so much."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, frowning slightly:
"Is there an Oashi up here?"
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, with a brief glance around:
"I see none."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, thoughtfully:
"Mmm. I see none, though I do see a Fale..."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish:
"What's her name over there?"
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, hoarsely:
"Lapitia."
You send a telepathic message to the chubby, brown-haired man:
"Brethel. Ten years of exclusive slave purchases from my House, and any slaves with our markings found in Luir's returned to us, and I can get you our Senate vote."
You send a telepathic message to the chubby, brown-haired man:
"I suggest you act quickly before they're finished speaking."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"Lord Senator Purod Fale, the floor is now yours."
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man clears his throat.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman sits up in her chair, her face flushing with rising colour.
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man clears his throat a few more times, putting down a wineglass on his table as he swaggers to the podium.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, chuckling:
"He is staying in character for the Fale, it seems."
You notice: The willowy, onyx-haired teen purses her lips faintly, watching the floor intently.
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, softly:
"Perhaps he already is opposing."
In the amphitheater below, the silvery-haired, wiry man says:
"My fellow beautiful senators.."
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man waves his hands around wildly as he speaks.
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man snorts quietly.
The ghostly, smoke-tressed woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Good luck with your proposal child."
The slight, silver-crowned woman scowls suddenly.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man sends you a telepathic message:
"What is the matter?"
The slight, silver-crowned woman shakes her head minutely.
You think:
"Blasted witch Felysia. Not going to even respond."
In the amphitheater below, the silvery-haired, wiry man says:
"Can you blame Kurac for being the poor, poor victims of bullying at the hands of Tuluk?!"
Down on the Senate floor, The morose, white-haired matron flushes slightly as the silvery-haired, wiry man speaks.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman leans over and whispers quietly to the stunted, silver-haired old man with a roll of her eyes.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man grins quietly to himself.
Down on the Senate floor, The slender, fair-haired woman focuses all her attention on the silvery-haired, wiry man, hands clasped tightly in her lap.
In the amphitheater below, the silvery-haired, wiry man says:
"Really.... poor, little House Kurac! They couldn't stop such mighty enemy as the Tuluki army."
In the amphitheater below, the silvery-haired, wiry man says:
"House Fale thinks that Kurac had no choice in the matter.. and really.."
You send a telepathic message to the chubby, brown-haired man:
"Are you passing that on, Brethel?"
Down on the Senate floor, The wisp-thin, narrow-nosed man casts a nervous glance at the slender, fair-haired woman.
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man clears his throat a few more times, wiping at his nose.
The stocky, clean-shaven man sighs, cupping his chin with a palm.
The willowy, onyx-haired teen whispers something to the stocky, clean-shaven man.
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female leans forward on her bench, elbows resting on her knees as she peers intently at the speaker below.
The ghostly, smoke-tressed woman sends you a telepathic message:
"I wonder if Malenthis will flee the balcony like he's fled everything else?"
You feel like finding the ghostly, smoke-tressed woman and throwing her off the balcony.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman lets out an audible sigh, her chest rising and falling as she settles back in her chair.
In the amphitheater below, the silvery-haired, wiry man says:
"I suggest that the Tuluki supply lines never even went -through- Luir's Outpost.. they went -around- it!"
In the amphitheater below, the silvery-haired, wiry man says:
"Kurac has no control or say-so over that!"
The svelte, ivory-skinned man clasps his hands to his center, chuckling as he looks down on the amphitheater floor.
You send a telepathic message to the stocky, clean-shaven man:
"Rokov, I told you cousin this as well. Ten years exclusive slave purchases from my family, and any slaves with our markings found in Luir's returned to us."
You send a telepathic message to the stocky, clean-shaven man:
"Give us that and our speaker will vote for you."
Softly, the bald, eye-scarred half-giant asks the short, scar-eyed templar, in sirihish:
"Uhm...Great Lord...kin I's ask ya sumpin'?"
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, gesturing towards the balcony:
"Well...will your Senator speak?"
Distractedly, the short, scar-eyed templar asks the bald, eye-scarred half-giant, in sirihish:
"Hmm? Yes, what is it?"
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, rasping softly:
"He has not responded to me, Lord Templar. I cannot anticipate his actions. Lord Dhon is quite the independant thinker. The best I could do was inform him."
The bald, eye-scarred half-giant whispers something to the short, scar-eyed templar.
Down on the Senate floor, The morose, white-haired matron looks at the wisp-thin, narrow-nosed man, her gaze penetrating and scornful.
The lissome, kohl-eyelined man glances down at the plump, prismatic-haired woman, rubbing a small brow with his thumb.
In the amphitheater below, the silvery-haired, wiry man says, with a smug grin:
"House Fale thinks levying such a fine is foolish, and irresponsible."
The stocky, clean-shaven man sends you a telepathic message:
"Will pass it on to my Senior Agent, my Lady."
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man swaggers back to his table, taking his seat, sipping a glass of wine.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman's magenta painted lips twitch ever so slightly.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says, turning to give a bow to the thin, silky black-haired man:
"Lord Senator Oash, the floor is now yours."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish:
"Mm."
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man crosses the floor with a quick, clipped stride, and stands before the podium.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man's face nearly imperceptibly darkens as he leans back in the chair, overlooking the Senate floor.
Down on the Senate floor, Tightlipped, the thin, silky black-haired man looks about the chamber.
Down on the Senate floor, The elderly, big-boned woman shakes her head quietly.
At your table, you say in sirihish, with a faint grin:
"I wonder if it's coincidence that the "Elite Guard Noble" and his cask-filling cousin aren't here."
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female smirks faintly.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, flashing a smile towards you:
"Yes, I noticed no Oash representation up here, how unfortunate they are not taking up space at a table."
You think:
"Idiots both, Oash was smart not to bring them to embarass themselves in front of everyone."
The obese, bald man looks down interested, pursing his lips gently.
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"Oash has had a long, beneficial history with Kurac. The day is dark, indeed, when I must ignore that relationship today, in face of their actions."
The short, scar-eyed templar purses his lips.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man folds his arms over his chest as he watches the proceedings, his right foot soundlessly tapping under the table.
The bald, eye-scarred half-giant frowns a moment, pushing back to his feet slowly and resuming his scan over the balcony.
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"Kurac, as you all are well aware, are clever, sharp-witted people. They would not let themselves succumb under Tuluk's grips easily. Unless they were willing to. Rememeber, they did have a choice in turning to us for aid..."
The chubby, brown-haired man whispers something to the stocky, clean-shaven man.
You overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man whisper to the chubby, brown-haired man, in cavilish:
"Yeah, she told me too - informed Talia-di."
The stocky, clean-shaven man whispers something to the chubby, brown-haired man.
You overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man whisper to the chubby, brown-haired man, in cavilish:
"But if I hadn't already screwed up once today, I'd probably take it."
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says, shaking his head:
"It's a pity they didn't. We would not have to struggle with this issue today. But their actions speaks for themselves. They allowed Tuluk to take advantage of them..."
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman shoots a glance up to the witnesses above before turning back and speaking quietly with the stunted, silver-haired old man.
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"I informed both Agents up here, my Lady Scribe. They said they'd contact their Senior. Nothing back yet."
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"This fine is a hefty price to pay, indeed, but I believe it will do to cancel out their errors."
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man steps from the podium and returns to stand by his table.
The chubby, brown-haired man whispers something to the stocky, clean-shaven man.
The stocky, clean-shaven man whispers something to the chubby, brown-haired man.
You think:
"All that whispering back and forth... looks like they're at least considering."
Sitting primly on the bench with the stocky, clean-shaven man and the chubby, brown-haired man, the willowy, onyx-haired teen gives them a sidelong glance, then returns her intent focus to the floor.
You overhear the chubby, brown-haired man whisper to the stocky, clean-shaven man, frowning, in cavilish:
"I cannot even find Talia-di's mind."
You think:
"Then again, that doesn't sound so good."
The thick, curly-haired man scrunches his brow, eyes shifting back and forth as he sits silent and pensive.
Down on the Senate floor, A lop-jawed, black-haired woman glances around the room, scanning the faces of each senator in turn.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man looks across the room, giving a brief nod of his head.
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, rasping softly:
"I'm speaking with him now. How would it be done, Lord Templar? Ammend the current proposal, or vote it down and broker the deal separately?"
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says, " The matter of fining Kurac a half million sid will now be put to the vote."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, gazing over the balcony:
"I would ammend. It doesn't matter, however it gets done..."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says, " House Borsail, how say you?"
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish:
"Well there's that."
The svelte, ivory-skinned man leans forward with interest.
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish:
"They'd likely be more willing to pay out if this doesn't go through."
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"Still nothing, Lady Scribe."
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman glances to the witnesses with a smirk and then turns to the front.
The chubby, brown-haired man whispers something to the stocky, clean-shaven man.
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female peers intently at the ongoings below.
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"House Borsail votes yes. Fine them."
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"We gave them a chance, did we not?"
The slight, silver-crowned woman lifts her shoulders in a shrug toward the stocky, clean-shaven man and the chubby, brown-haired man.
The lofty, hazel-skinned man sits forward in his seat, looking intently past the twisted jade balcony-rail.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"I think the fine is the right course of action personally"
The willowy, onyx-haired teen sucks in a breath, watching the floor.
The thick, curly-haired man stares at the obese, bald man.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Valika, how say you?"
Down on the Senate floor, The sleek, fine-boned man clears his throat.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"Oh hmm, they asked last time, shall we do that again?"
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
"House Valika votes yes. Fine them."
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Lady Ceylara. That was most certainly -not- the vote I was looking for. Could you explain?"
You send a telepathic message to the short, scar-eyed man:
"I'm not in constant contact with her, Great Lord, but I did pass along your message - I thought the deal you had worked out would be a separate proposal?"
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Oash, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says, clearing his throat:
"Oash concurs. Fine them."
The thick, curly-haired man taps his forehead and nods encouragingly to the obese, bald man before looking back to the senate floor.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Fale, how say you?"
You feel happily surprised.
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Fale ahead of Kasix? Did they drop the Kasix down a notch?"
The slight, silver-crowned woman grins.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, in a calm tone:
"As it should be."
The stocky, clean-shaven man bites down on his lower lip, sitting calmly.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, clasping his hands together:
"They're in trouble, hm."
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man uncrosses, then refolds his arms over his chest.
In the amphitheater below, the silvery-haired, wiry man says:
"House Fale votes against it, we shouldn't fine them."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Kasix, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the elderly, big-boned woman says:
"Kasix votes fine them."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"How will this affect Kurac?"
The lissome, kohl-eyelined man sends a brief glance in the willowy, onyx-haired teen's direction.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Rennik, how say you?"
Down on the Senate floor, The slight, fiery-haired woman shifts her eyes around the room.
In the amphitheater below, the slight, fiery-haired woman says:
"Fine them."
The lofty, hazel-skinned man shakes his head slowly, hitting at his low-set forehead with a lace-gloved hand.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Tor, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the short, brown-bearded man says:
"House Tor votes against the motion."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"Oh my, that is a shame, one does not like to see misfortune on anyone."
The willowy, onyx-haired teen lets out a long, low sigh, lips pursed into a tight line.
Down on the Senate floor, A lop-jawed, black-haired woman counts quickly on her fingers and blanches.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Jal, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the morose, white-haired matron says:
"Who are we to stand against popular opinion. Fine them."
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"I must say I'm...highly...dissapointed."
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"I spent a month in terse negotiations with House Kurac, and your House doesn't even -mention- my proposal?"
The short, scar-eyed templar shoots a dark glance towards you, his lone eye narrowing.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man looks at the stocky, clean-shaven man, with a short sidelong glance.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"Wonderfully honest."
You notice: The willowy, onyx-haired teen grinds her teeth.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish, simply:
"Well there's that."
Silently, the willowy, onyx-haired teen reaches out and squeezes the stocky, clean-shaven man's shoulder.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man looks over towards the short, scar-eyed templar for a moment curiously, then back to the Senate floor.
You send a telepathic message to the short, scar-eyed man:
"I passed along exactly what you said to her and nothing else, my Lord. You said a favorable vote, not to propose it... please excuse me, I'll ask our speaker for clarification."
The slight, silver-crowned woman frowns and furrows her brow, staring down at the table.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Sath, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, a lop-jawed, black-haired woman says:
"Fine them fine them.. yes."
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"How, exactly, is something supposed to get a favorable vote, IF IT ISN"T PROPOSED."
The short, scar-eyed templar snarls to himself, pounding his fist onto an elegant, baobab table.
The slight, silver-crowned woman jumps in her seat.
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"Now Great Lord Jal is angry with us for not proposing his amendment, Lady Scribe -- but he never requested we do so."
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man shakes his head to himself.
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish:
"Moronic senators."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Kurac is hereby fined a half million sid for their involuntary assistance to the Tulukis in the war. The final count was fifteen in favor, three against. "
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish:
"Fifteen to three? How does that math work?"
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"Have Kadius voted yet? Do Kadius receive a vote?"
The willowy, onyx-haired teen whispers something to the stocky, clean-shaven man.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the thick, curly-haired man say in cavilish:
"We are merely there in token, good Sadyr.. merely in token.."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"Better than not being there at all."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, rasping softly:
"A real missed opportunity."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish:
"We shall see. The battle isn't over."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish:
"Perhaps the terms of their payment can be manipulated to fall in line with your alternative."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, nodding, over to the warbraided, smoke-eyed man:
"Yes, that may be far more favorable."
The svelte, ivory-skinned man sets a hand on your shoulder lightly, looking downward before removing it.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man rubs a hand through his short beard, turning the page of his large sheaf of papers.
Down on the Senate floor, The silver-haired, one-eyed templar glances at several scribes who furiously write on parchment scrolls.
The stocky, clean-shaven man glances back at the short, scar-eyed templar, with a blink.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman bends over her pile of parchment, shuffling through them with the stunted, silver-haired old man.
The austere narrow-eyed woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Proposing it? I thought it was something unrelated. Does that mean he no longer wishes our support for his legacy?"
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"I'll relay it back to him. I'm somewhat confused, my Lady."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the chubby, brown-haired man say in cavilish, to the stocky, clean-shaven man before shrugging:
"Well...glad I didn't agree to Borsail...didn't make a difference anyway..."
The svelte, ivory-skinned man sends you a telepathic message:
"Ah, as I thought, Kurac's only real interest in us was to move our vote, and they could probably care less now."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish:
"It may have if we'd had an answer."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish, to the chubby, brown-haired man:
"If she'd said something to us, we could have agreed, maybe the other Senators would have followed Borsail's lead the other way."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the chubby, brown-haired man say in cavilish:
"Never know now."
Quietly, you whisper to the svelte, ivory-skinned man in sirihish:
"The Lady Scribe told me to offer them a deal in exchange for our vote, but I got no reply."
You whisper to the svelte, ivory-skinned man in sirihish:
"Seems like they didn't either."
The svelte, ivory-skinned man inclines his head towards you, expression thoughtful.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, to you, calmly:
"In retrospect, maybe that is for the best, though."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"Proposal Two: Whether or not to name Malenthis Jal a "Hero of Allanak", which means a statue would be made of him and a street named after him. Proposed by Lord Senator Jethan Oash."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"Lord Senator Oash, the floor is now yours."
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man approaches the podium in clipped strides.
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female permits herself a glance at the short, scar-eyed templar.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man nods a few times, then flashes the short, scar-eyed templar a quick smile and turns his attention to the podium below.
You notice: The willowy, onyx-haired teen's young face remains set in a faint frown as she watches the proceedings below.
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"Malenthis has been a friend to us all for years, and his recent triumph in taking the copper mine is a small testament to his accomplishments. Vote against him, and you vote against Allanak."
You send a telepathic message to the short, scar-eyed man:
"*a bit of confusion* We were both under the impression this was an unrelated matter, Great Lord. The Lady speaker asks if this means you no longer wish support for your legacy?"
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Well. It isn't a total loss, I suppose. Provided the end terms of the payment still fall into line."
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Perhaps offer an alternative, yes, to the final fine. Pay all now, or two million over twelve years...or something."
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"...Mmm. I'm disspointed in this matter, but I may still offer support. I imagine this next meeting will be very important."
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man smirks, slapping the top of the podium, and steps away to return to his position by his table.
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, rasping softly:
"Succinct and poignant."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, nodding to the warbraided, smoke-eyed man:
"Let's hope they're all that way."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, with a nod and a short gruff chuckle:
"Indeed."
The chubby, brown-haired man nods to the stocky, clean-shaven man.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"Lady Senator Pro Tem Borsail, the floor is yours."
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman clears her throat and bows her head to the assemblage.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"What is this vote about sir?"
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the thick, curly-haired man say in cavilish, quietly:
"The Great Lord Malenthis Jal.. we have the honor of sharing his Grace in this very balcony. Valiantly, he fought back the Northern forces in the Red Desert.."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"He has the bearing and manner of a great man, that much is for sure."
The thick, curly-haired man nods in deep agreement with the obese, bald man.
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Perhaps -now- may be a good time to bring up the idea, and my great skills at negotiation. Or...something."
You send a telepathic message to the short, scar-eyed man:
"I'll hurry and pass the message on."
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman glances up toward the witnesses briefly before making her way to the podium.
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"I'll just relay what he says, my Lady:"
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"It's not a total loss provided the end terms of payment fall into line, he's disappointed, but still offers support..."
The austere narrow-eyed woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Will he support me or not? I can speak ill or I can speak fair. That is the only question. Yes, or no."
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"Lords and Ladies, Borsail has long known of the work of Lord Templar Malenthis Jal of the Red..."
Down on the Senate floor, The elderly, big-boned woman crosses her arms and drums her fingers on her shoulder.
You think:
"She's waiting on me, this back and forth will take forever."
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"Yes."
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman nods to herself and continues in a more swift manner.
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"But, we have been impressed with the Lord Templar. His courage and bravery in the recent altercation against the traitors of the north is singular amongst those of this age."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, gesturing with a hand:
"That is the new Senator?"
At your table, you say in sirihish, distractedly:
"That's Lady Scribe Cyriaca.. she's not our Senator officially, yet."
The svelte, ivory-skinned man nods towards you, falling silent.
You send a telepathic message to the short, scar-eyed man:
"*her thoughts dizzied* She already had to speak, all she had time to ask was whether you would support her or not, yes or no. I told her yes. We can work out an amendment later, I hope."
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man clears his throat, shuffling the sheaf of paper on the podium.
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Well? Have her go on. Vote yes, and I support - and consider bringing in the idea."
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman gestures up toward the witness stand with a grand sweep of one arm.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"I believe House Kadius should act upon these issues here today sir, in one shape or form."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the thick, curly-haired man say in cavilish, quietly:
"For now.. we shall observe.. yes."
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"Who amongst you can fault such heroism and sacrifice? Not Borsail. We stand for Allanak. We stand for our Highlord."
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"We say.. YES. Vote yes on this issue."
The short, scar-eyed templar smiles, glancing over to you.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman turns and gives a respectful bow of her head toward a spot in the witness area.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"Lord Senator Valika, the floor is now yours."
The slight, silver-crowned woman glances toward the short, scar-eyed templar and bows her head.
At your table, you say in sirihish, wincing:
"Krath but I could use some water."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, softly:
"I should have brought some. Should I send Linae?"
At your table, you say in sirihish, shaking her head:
"I can manage."
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female sends you a telepathic message:
"I don't mind fetching some water. I have some myself, but I couldn't expect you to drink from my waterskin."
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman makes her way back to her table and settles next to the stunted, silver-haired old man.
Down on the Senate floor, The sleek, fine-boned man stands up, hurridly making his way to the podium.
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
"House Valika also believes in the Highlord and Allanak, and would vote for the city.."
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
" ..which most assuredly is -against- such a ludicrous measure!"
Down on the Senate floor, The sleek, fine-boned man holds up his hand, fingers spread.
The slight, silver-crowned woman blinks.
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
"Here's why:"
The short, scar-eyed templar frowns.
Down on the Senate floor, The slender, fair-haired woman sits still in her seat at the back of the room, her gaze still set on the floor.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man blinks, surprise falling over his features.
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
"Malenthis is a failure. What did he really accomplish?"
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man's chin lifts as he observes the speaker below curiously.
Down on the Senate floor, The stunted, silver-haired old man snorts quietly.
At your table, you say in sirihish, murmuring softly:
"Valika always did have such an eccentric side."
The thick, curly-haired man glances about nervously, seeming uncomfortable.
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
"The Tulukis controlled the mine for the vast majority of the war, taking nearly -all- the worth from it"
Down on the Senate floor, The sleek, fine-boned man shakes his head.
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
"We got their LEFTOVERS!"
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
"Do you think Allanak is worthy of .. LEFTOVERS?!"
Down on the Senate floor, The short, brown-bearded man shifts in his seat, glancing up to the balcony above.
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
"House Valika does not. If you crunch the numbers - which of course we have - you will fine one glaring truth:"
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
"The city has lost considerable money from this war."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish:
"Oh fuck, I'm so tempted to shout at that."
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
"The value retrieved from what was left was far LESS than the loss of life of troops!"
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish, biting down on his lip, hard:
"Won't..."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the willowy, onyx-haired teen say in cavilish, squeezing the stocky, clean-shaven man's shoulder firmly:
"Yes.. don't."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"Sometimes the act is more important than the reward"
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, leaning back, his voice calm:
"Did not expect that, what a move."
The short, scar-eyed templar raps his fingers along the top of an elegant, baobab table.
One of the plump, prismatic-haired woman's kohl-etched eyebrows jerks upward with surprise as she listens.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman speaks suddenly, out of turn, her voice rising to a near shout.
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"Who dares say that the Highlord lost!? This is nonsense!"
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, shaking his head:
"Here we go."
The pallid, serpentine inked man shifts uneasily, standing closer to the thick, curly-haired man and the willowy, onyx-haired teen as the man below speaks.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man's voice carries over the fracas.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"Lord Senator Valika has the floor."
Down on the Senate floor, The sleek, fine-boned man grins smugly.
Down on the Senate floor, The morose, white-haired matron glances at the thin, silky black-haired man, her eyes roaming over his face.
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female wrinkles her brow, peering down at the floor below with an expression of surprise and confusion.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman grumbles and retakes her seat, face reddened.
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
"At any rate, those are House Valika's thoughts."
Down on the Senate floor, The sleek, fine-boned man qiuckly makes his way back to his seat.
Down on the Senate floor, The point-nosed, fine-boned man looks around, trying to look small as the proceedings happen around him.
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man glares at the sleek, fine-boned man.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"Lady Senator Jal, the floor is now yours."
At your table, you say in sirihish, glancing at the svelte, ivory-skinned man, quietly:
"That may have been in err."
Down on the Senate floor, The morose, white-haired matron rises to her feet as the room becomes quiet, pausing a beat to let it build.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, nodding towards you:
"Which? The outspoken comment or Valika's statement?"
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Well both, definitely, but I was referring to her interruption."
Murmuring very quietly, you whisper to the svelte, ivory-skinned man in sirihish:
"But still, better to have her down there than Visandach."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, nodding slightly:
"It illustrates, in a way, what we feel about the matter. It is a difficult argument since it concerns devotion to Allanak as well as an examination of facts."
Down on the Senate floor, Walking forward to speak, the morose, white-haired matron looks down for a moment before turning to address the room.
In the amphitheater below, the morose, white-haired matron says:
"Financial losses are not the only measure of success. There were not only losses on the side of Allanak, but on the side of Tuluk as well."
In the amphitheater below, the morose, white-haired matron says:
"If one were to look at the whole of it, as one should..."
Down on the Senate floor, The morose, white-haired matron looks around the room, her piercing gaze striking key faces.
The slight, silver-crowned woman's gaze drops to the pale scar on her left palm as she leans back in her seat.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man watches you thoughtfully for a moment, then turns his gaze to the Senate floor again.
In the amphitheater below, The morose, white-haired matron says:
"The end result of this is very beneficial to Allanak. And Lord Templar Malenthis Jal has served as an exemplary member of The Highlord's Gracious Templarate."
In the amphitheater below, The morose, white-haired matron says:
"Regardless what others would have you believe, he is very worthy of award and reward for his accomplishments this day."
Down on the Senate floor, A bristling-bearded, jutnosed man scribes a note down, passing it down to the sleek, fine-boned man with a knowing look.
Down on the Senate floor, Defiantly, the morose, white-haired matron strides slowly back to her seat.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"The matter will now be put to the vote."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Borsail, how say you?"
Glancing briefly and subtly his way, the willowy, onyx-haired teen looks at the svelte, ivory-skinned man.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman casts a derisive glance toward the Valika congregation.
Down on the Senate floor, The sleek, fine-boned man winks at the austere narrow-eyed woman.
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"House Borsail says yes."
The svelte, ivory-skinned man inhales sharply, peering at the floor.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Valika, how say you?"
The short, scar-eyed templar gazes into the amphiteater, nodding slightly.
At your table, you say in sirihish, grimly:
"So much for sharing living arrangements with Valika while we get the new Estate built."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, to you:
"Yes, that's about out of question now."
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
"Valika of course says no."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Oash, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"We say yes."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Fale, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the silvery-haired, wiry man says, with a yawn:
"Hunh? Oh.. uhm.. yes. Fale says yes. What am I voting on? Oh, Malenthis.. yes!"
You notice: The willowy, onyx-haired teen leans forward slightly.
You notice: The willowy, onyx-haired teen shakes her head wryly.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Kasix, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the elderly, big-boned woman says:
"Kasix votes yes."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Rennik, how say you?"
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"That's the second time Fale voted -ahead- of Kasix."
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"I love that. That's superb."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, to you:
"I'm telling you, the Fale Estate is very nice."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the willowy, onyx-haired teen say in cavilish, smirking gently:
"I wish Lord Senaj Fale was here to see this."
In the amphitheater below, the slight, fiery-haired woman says:
"We say no."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Tor, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the short, brown-bearded man says:
"House Tor says yes."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, smiling thinly, glancing over to the warbraided, smoke-eyed man:
"Well, the most important vote of the evening is going well."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, returning the short, scar-eyed templar's smile:
"Was there ever really any doubt?"
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Jal, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the morose, white-haired matron says:
"House Jal votes Yes."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Sath, how say you?"
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Who else voted no? Rennik?"
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, nodding to you:
"Rennik said no."
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Rennik is worthless too."
In the amphitheater below, a lop-jawed, black-haired woman says:
"Y-yes? Yes. We vote yes."
The slight, silver-crowned woman giggles.
The slight, silver-crowned woman clears her throat quickly.
You think:
"For Highlord sake, Lara... even if she -is- Sath, she's a Senator. Remember your station."
You think:
"... soon enough you'll be down there to giggle at her on the floor, anyway."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"Malenthis Jal is declared a Hero of Allanak, this motion is passed thirteen votes for, five against."
The obese, bald man smiles.
Not too loudly, the lofty, hazel-skinned man looks towards the short, scar-eyed templar and claps his lace-gloved hands for a few moments.
The very short and thick figure in a scorpion-emblazoned, smoky-grey cloak and the tall and thick figure in a scorpion-emblazoned, smoky-grey cloak snap to attention and bow towards the short, scar-eyed templar in unison.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man lifts his head to look over at the silvery-haired, wiry man.
Down on the Senate floor, the silvery-haired, wiry man nods.
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, clapping his hand firmly on the top of an elegant, baobab table:
"Good! Remind me to drown a few Valika and Rennik later."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, inclining his head deeply:
"Congratulations, and yes."
Standing and bowing briefly, calling out across the balcony, you say to the short, scar-eyed templar, in sirihish:
"Congratulations, Great Lord Jal, our Hero."
Looking over to the short, scar-eyed templar, inclining his head politely, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says to the short, scar-eyed templar, in sirihish:
"Congratulations, Great Lord."
The short, scar-eyed templar returns a few polite nods and smiles, standing briefly from his table and waving around.
The slight, silver-crowned woman raises from her bow and retakes her seat.
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female claps her hands together softly a few times, noiselessly and merely a gesture.
The bald, eye-scarred half-giant scoots back a bit as the short, scar-eyed templar stands, looking quickly at surrounding tables.
The short, scar-eyed templar retakes his seat, nodding slightly.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish:
"I still don't understand the math. Do the higher tier houses get more votes?"
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish:
"If the top three get three, the middle three get two, and the lower three get one... that adds up to eighteen, so... yeah."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish:
"That must be it."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the willowy, onyx-haired teen say in cavilish, softly:
"That must be it, yes. This is, of course, my first Senate meeting."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"A late proposal has been accepted. House Fale proposes a city festival to celebrate our Victory. Lord Senator Fale, the floor is yours."
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man starts making his way to the podium with a swagger.
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man nods up towards the balcony.
Glancing around the balcony, the lofty, hazel-skinned man turns to look back at the Senate floor.
In the amphitheater below, the silvery-haired, wiry man says:
"Now that House Fale is.. er... Now that the city is half a million 'sid richer..."
The plump, prismatic-haired woman sits erect, lowering her her extravagantly feathered fan to her lap to peer down at the floor with renewed interest.
Down on the Senate floor, The elderly, big-boned woman chuckles quietly at her seat.
In the amphitheater below, the silvery-haired, wiry man says:
"I suggest we have a grand festival! Let's celebrate our new hero! House Fale proposes a festival which we will, of course, take care of."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, with a gesture towards the floor:
"I knew they would do this... use the money for a festival."
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man nods once, reclaiming his seat.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man spares a quick glance around the chamber.
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish:
"I suppose there may still be a chance to bring in the proposal..."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, with a shrug:
"But honestly, it matters little at this point."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Borsail, how say you?"
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"No discussion?"
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman glances up as if not paying attention.
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"Oh.. yes, of course. Borsail votes yes."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says, " House Valika, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says, " House Valika says fine.. yes, we support a festival."
The slight, silver-crowned woman frowns to herself.
You think:
"It seems like she's not doing so well down there."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, nodding:
"I suppose not, it isn't really something that can be argued against, I think."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Oash, how say you?"
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, rasping softly:
"I am surprised that Kurac did not speak before that first vote."
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man sighs, rolling his eyes.
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, glancing over to the warbraided, smoke-eyed man:
"They don't get to. Only Senators can speak, remember?"
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish:
"If I could, -I- would have spoken before the Senate."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish:
"I thought the Merchants had speaking rights, but no vote."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, to the warbraided, smoke-eyed man:
"If the Senators decide they do, I suppose so,yes."
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says, frowning:
"Oash votes no"
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish, flatly:
"Great. Five hundred thousand sid festival. Yaaaaay."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the chubby, brown-haired man say in cavilish, to the stocky, clean-shaven man:
"Well...maybe we can convince House Fale to have us open a tent for the festival...and earn some of that coin back."
The lissome, kohl-eyelined man smiles vaguely to himself.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Fale, how say you?"
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man nods a few times agreeably, then looks down at the silvery haired man below.
In the amphitheater below, the silvery-haired, wiry man says:
"Uhm.. no? Hah, just kidding. YES!"
The stocky, clean-shaven man sighs, just staring at his lap.
You notice: The willowy, onyx-haired teen smirks faintly.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Kasix, how say you?"
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, curiously:
"Why would House Oash vote against it?"
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Probably because they'd rather the money go toward gemmers, or something."
The svelte, ivory-skinned man laughs lightly at your response, inclining his head in agreement.
In the amphitheater below, the elderly, big-boned woman says:
"Kasix votes yes."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Rennik, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the slight, fiery-haired woman says:
"Yes, of course."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Tor, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the short, brown-bearded man says:
"Tor says Yes."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Jal, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the morose, white-haired matron says:
"Jal votes no."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish:
"Why did the Great Lord's own House vote against it? Very strange."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Sath, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, a lop-jawed, black-haired woman says:
"Yes, why not?"
The slight, silver-crowned woman blinks, glancing toward the warbraided, smoke-eyed man a moment.
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Tor voted yes. I would have thought they'd want the money used toward the military."
The plump, prismatic-haired woman blinks several times before raising her extravagantly feathered fan to flutter with agitation beneath her chin.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, inclining his head:
"Yes, but Fale offered to put forth the cost for it."
The plump, prismatic-haired woman titters very softly behind her extravagantly feathered fan.
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"I've been thinking..."
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"I'm going to fully endorse your Senator. You can take the proposal under consideration. I think it may be fine without it, though."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"The motion is passed, fourteen in favor, four against."
You contact the short, scar-eyed man with the Way.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"The last proposal today is: Whether or not all elemental magick should be totally outlawed from the city-state of Allanak proposed by Borsail. "
The svelte, ivory-skinned man rubs his fingers together, leaning up in his chair.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"Lady Senator Pro Tem Borsail, the floor is yours."
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman rises from her chair and gathers several sheaths of parchment, approaching the podium.
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man's expression narrow into a scowl.
The lofty, hazel-skinned man firms his jaw, frowning thoughtfully as he studies the senate floor closely.
The thick, curly-haired man cracks a toothy grin as he cuts his eyes over to the lofty, hazel-skinned man.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman clears her throat, glancing into the gallery.
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Let me know, either way."
You send a telepathic message to the short, scar-eyed man:
"Of course, Great Lord. I'll let her know, though I think it'd be best to wait, this will be an important speech."
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Of course. Better untill later...if at all."
The short, scar-eyed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Plenty of time to discuss it later."
Ending his frown to grin faintly back, the lofty, hazel-skinned man looks at the thick, curly-haired man.
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"Lords and Ladies, who amongst us cannot say that we have not suffered enough from these dangerous creatures?"
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, in a calm tone:
"This will be the most controversial, I think it."
At your table, you say in sirihish, softly:
"This is an important speech for her."
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Not only because of the subject, but because of the election too."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish:
"It is, and for the House Borsail."
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"Time after time, we hear tales of horrible things done by these gemmed, and though punishment comes swiftly...Borsail says it should NOT BE POSSIBLE."
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman speaks more swiftly, her voice rising.
At your table, you say in sirihish, to the svelte, ivory-skinned man, shaking her head:
"It's not going to pass, that was never a question -- but how she argues it is much more important, that's what I'm paying attention to."
At your table, you say in sirihish, nodding lightly:
"I like the force."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, to you, tone calm:
"Yes, I know that - it's the wording that's important, as you say."
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man leans back in his chair, crossing one foot up onto the opposite knee.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish:
"Powerful, and convincing, so far."
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"The nobility of Allanak should not be forced to deal with this rabble of magick users. They should be outlawed immediately. We saw the power they can draw in recent events. It CANNOT BE ALLOWED."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, calmly:
"The stress on the end of each statement reiterates the subject and carries the power of the statement."
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"Who amongst you wishes your aides to rub elbows with some creature that might place a curse upon your Noble Family? Who amongst you wishes your guards forced to deal day to day with those who take part in dangerous ritual?"
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman brings her hand down on the podium in a slam.
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"Who amongst you will not speak to end the dangerous practice of allowing these gemmed to mingle with the normal citizens of Allanak? Who, I ask?"
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman sighs and gathers her papers, making her way back to her table.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, nodding his agreement, calmly:
"House Oash should not be able to stand against that, I think it."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish:
"Very well done."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"Lord Senator Oash, the floor is now yours."
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man's gaze tracks the austere room's course back to her table.
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man pace across the floor, mounts the stage and stands by the podium.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man's gaze tracks the austere woman's course back to her table.
The chubby, brown-haired man absently touches his leather collar with a jade cross on it as he watches the senate floor.
The thick, curly-haired man exhales, seeming pensive as he gazes down toward the podium.
Down on the Senate floor, Pitching his voice to be heard in the farthest reach of this chamber, the thin, silky black-haired man appears calm.
The willowy, onyx-haired teen leans forward, watching the floor below with intent interest.
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"This is an emotional topic for us all. Most of you know Oash employs magickers."
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"That does not mean we are utterly comfortable with it. No."
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"Not that you need to hear it from me, my Lady, but that speech was astoundingly excellent."
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"Sahale and I are both incredibly impressed... it's clear to me that I could learn a great deal from you."
You send a telepathic message to the austere narrow-eyed woman:
"I don't mean to intrude any longer. Great Lord Jal says you have his full support, and that he thinks he may be able to settle things without a new proposal anyway."
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"Over the past many generations, we - not just Oash, but others within the other families and the templarate - have sought to control them. And we have, successfully."
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"The Templarate have a tool to control them, as well.."
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man taps his throat.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman snorts and bends, speaking softly to the stunted, silver-haired old man.
At your table, you say in sirihish, speaking up sharply, but quietly:
"As well? The templarate should be the -only- ones controlling them. They're tools. Not people."
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"Should we let a few, rare wild mages who lack the self-restraint and control spoil our interaction with them?"
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man holds up a finger.
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"Although they are dangerous, they are largely useful to us all. Where would we be if we didn't have mages to assist us in our warfare with Tuluk?"
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man's foot taps soundlessly under the table again as he watches the senate floor.
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says, shifting his eyes to Rennik and Jal's tables:
"Or water for your plants and to cleanse."
Down on the Senate floor, A lop-jawed, black-haired woman fidgets with her hands on her lap.
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says, gazing over to Tor's table:
"Or Krath to aid you with combat?"
The svelte, ivory-skinned man exhales, his discontented gaze on the floor below, expression calm.
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"I say this. If we ban mages from the city, we will see an increaes in magickers who aren't under our fine city's control."
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"They will go ungemmed. Who controls them then?"
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man pauses, sweeping his hand dramatically.
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says, " Think on that."
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man steps off the stage, striding back to his table.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish:
"Alternatively, we could just kill them all."
At your table, you say in sirihish, softly:
"I'd rather see them gemmed and out of Oash's control. And in chains."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, to the warbraided, smoke-eyed man:
"Have you spoken to Smoke?"
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, nodding to the short, scar-eyed templar:
"Once, since we returned. But we've been without because of a change in House policy."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, nodding to the short, scar-eyed templar:
"We haven't openly employed mages for some ten years now. Which is not necessarily to say that is an indication of our opinion of them within the city."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"Lady Senator Kasix, the floor is now yours."
Down on the Senate floor, The elderly, big-boned woman stands from her seat and waddles forward with obvious age.
In the amphitheater below, the elderly, big-boned woman says:
"If these abominations are being so well controlled, then why are they being allowed to breed within our walls? "
In the amphitheater below, the elderly, big-boned woman says:
"They are monsters and they should be outlawed. You cannot control a monster. They are bad breeding. Plain and simple."
In the amphitheater below, the elderly, big-boned woman says:
"It is a threat to leave them in this city or out of it."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, to the warbraided, smoke-eyed man, his brows raised:
"Oh?"
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man's eyes widen a little.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the willowy, onyx-haired teen say in cavilish, murmuring idly:
"Mm.. maybe they'll pass a motion that gemmed mages can't breed, or something."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the willowy, onyx-haired teen say in cavilish:
"At least it'd cut down on the population."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish:
"It'll make it so there's less gemmers."
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish:
"And more rogues in the tablelands."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish:
"I didn't expect Kasix to support us."
Down on the Senate floor, the pot-bellied, black-robed templar has arrived from the east, striding in confidently.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man jerks upright, eyes widening.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says, " Announcing Lord Parduashin Rennik the Black - High Commander of the City Ministry!"
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the willowy, onyx-haired teen say in cavilish:
"I suppose they ..."
In the amphitheater below, the elderly, big-boned woman says:
"There is no assurance that Oash - or anyone else can offer that will tru----"
Looking down at the Senate floor, the lofty, hazel-skinned man gasps abruptly.
Down on the Senate floor, The pot-bellied, black-robed templar walks across the floor and onto the stage.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man falls to his knees, bowing low on the ground.
The willowy, onyx-haired teen trails off, eyes turning wide and round.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man blinks, leaning forward.
The short, scar-eyed templar blinks, gazing into the amphiteater.
Down on the Senate floor, The sleek, fine-boned man raises a brow in surprise.
Down on the Senate floor, The elderly, big-boned woman goes abruptly silent, bowing before the pot-bellied, black-robed templar.
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female gazes intently down at the floor, mouth opening.
The stocky, clean-shaven man gasps.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman blinks in obvious shock and rises swiftly from her seat with the stunted, silver-haired old man struggling upward as well. Together, the pair bow deeply, almost touching the floor with their heads.
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man kneels on one knee, bowing reverently.
Grunting softly, the short, scar-eyed templar says, in sirihish:
"Bow."
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man lightly clears his throat, back straightening as he looks down to the stage.
You stand up from an elegant, baobab table.
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female stands up from a carved cylini bench.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, brown-bearded man rises swiftly, moving into a deep bow towards the door.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man stands up from an elegant, baobab table.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man stands up from an elegant, baobab table.
Over his shoulder to the group, the short, scar-eyed templar says, in sirihish:
"Bow, now."
The willowy, onyx-haired teen rises swiftly, bowing deep toward the floor.
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man startles, quickly bowing.
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female kneels down, touching her forehead to the floor.
The short, scar-eyed templar stands up from an elegant, baobab table.
Pushing her chair back abruptly, the plump, prismatic-haired woman stands up from an elegant, baobab table.
Rising swiftly, the lofty, hazel-skinned man stands up from a carved cylini bench.
The slight, silver-crowned woman drops to her knees, head bowed toward the senate floor.
The thick, curly-haired man stands up from a carved cylini bench.
The obese, bald man stands up from a carved cylini bench.
The lissome, kohl-eyelined man gasps, his eyes widening before he suddenly drops to his knees.
The pallid, serpentine inked man bows down toward the senate floor.
The short, scar-eyed templar drops to a knee, bowing towards the amphitheater.
Dropping to his knees and placing his head to the ground, the thick, curly-haired man sits down.
Down on the Senate floor, The pot-bellied, black-robed templar moves across the stage at a pace which is neither hurried nor leisurely for his stature.
Down on the Senate floor, The silver-haired, one-eyed templar bows deeply.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman lowers into a deep bow, her head nearly touching the table before her.
The stocky, clean-shaven man stands up from a carved cylini bench.
Kneeling in a bow, the stocky, clean-shaven man sits down.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man pushes to his feet, bowing fully and reverenty towards the Senate floor.
In unison with his hooded guards, the warbraided, smoke-eyed man bows deeply up on the balcony.
The obese, bald man gets on his knees, and place shis head on the floor.
Down on the Senate floor, Along with the tall, rakish man, the slight, fiery-haired woman bows deeply.
The bald, eye-scarred half-giant glances down to the short, scar-eyed templar before following suit, dipping to his knees.
Down on the Senate floor, The pot-bellied, black-robed templar steps up to the podium.
Down on the Senate floor, The elderly, big-boned woman steps aside, her face red and eyes downcast.
Looking down past the jade rail, the lofty, hazel-skinned man takes a step away from it and bows extremely deeply, closing his eyes.
In the amphitheater below, the pot-bellied, black-robed templar says:
"Be seated."
Down on the Senate floor, The slender, fair-haired woman falls to the floor, forehead touching the ground, a bristling-bearded, jutnosed man, the point-nosed, fine-boned man and the wisp-thin, narrow-nosed man following suit.
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female sits on a carved cylini bench.
Down on the Senate floor, The elderly, big-boned woman makes her way back to her seat and sits.
Down on the Senate floor, The sleek, fine-boned man clears his throat, reclaiming his seat.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman rises, the shock still visible on her face while retaking her chair.
Down on the Senate floor, The pot-bellied, black-robed templar places his hands upon an obsidian podium, looking around the Senate chamber.
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man occupies a vacant seat.
Picking up his feather-trimmed, dark purple hat and dusting it off, the lofty, hazel-skinned man slowly returns to the wooden bench.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man holds his bow statuesquely, war-braid off his shoulder and hanging in front of him.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man rises slowly, stepping back to a fair distance behind the podium.
The chubby, brown-haired man rises and bows with all the others before returning to his seat.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman sits at an elegant, baobab table.
The slight, silver-crowned woman rises slowly, face pale as she reclaims her seat.
You sit at an elegant, baobab table.
The lissome, kohl-eyelined man presses his forehead onto the floor, his black-feathered, purple hat slipping from his ebon mane.
In awe, the svelte, ivory-skinned man stumbles after you.
The thick, curly-haired man sweats profusely, his face twisted with awe and flushed red as jihae.
The obese, bald man sits on a carved cylini bench.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man sits at an elegant, baobab table.
The short, scar-eyed templar sits at an elegant, baobab table.
Down on the Senate floor, The slight, fiery-haired woman slips down into her seat, watching the pot-bellied, black-robed templar with awe.
In the amphitheater below, the pot-bellied, black-robed templar says, " Senators, Templars, Lords and Ladies."
The willowy, onyx-haired teen rises silently and settles back on a carved cylini bench, still gaping in shock at the floor.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man sits at an elegant, baobab table.
Slowly reclaiming his seat, the stocky, clean-shaven man sits on a carved cylini bench.
The pallid, serpentine inked man returns to a straight position, assuming a watchful attitude by the Kadius bench once again.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man holds a hand to his mouth, his other hand trembling slightly as he looks down at the floor.
In the amphitheater below, the pot-bellied, black-robed templar says, " This proposal to outlaw elemental magicks from his city is sheer folly."
Down on the Senate floor, The pot-bellied, black-robed templar pauses deliberately, scanning the faces of the senators assembled.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, brown-bearded man averts his gaze, looking down at the floor.
In the amphitheater below, the pot-bellied, black-robed templar says:
"I would like to remind the members of this esteemed body that the comforts and public services provided to all of the citizens by the City Ministry, as with all things, have a cost."
You think:
"Well that's all he needs to say."
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman averts her gaze, face reddened.
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man nods slowly as he listens to the pot-bellied, black-robed templar.
The stocky, clean-shaven man glances aside at the willowy, onyx-haired teen and the chubby, brown-haired man, looking afraid to even open his mouth.
In the amphitheater below, the pot-bellied, black-robed templar says:
"The City Ministry takes full advantage of the abilities of elementalists, whenever possible, to minimize costs."
The willowy, onyx-haired teen's grey-green eyes are riveted with obvious fascination upon the Senate floor below.
Down on the Senate floor, The pot-bellied, black-robed templar gestures over towards the table of House Valika with a hand.
In the amphitheater below, the pot-bellied, black-robed templar says:
"To cast aside these elementalist resources would require the City Ministry to procure suitable replacements."
The chubby, brown-haired man sits on the edge of his seat, watching.
Down on the Senate floor, Paling, the wisp-thin, narrow-nosed man, a bristling-bearded, jutnosed man, and the point-nosed, fine-boned man all sink low into their chairs, sweat beading instanstly on thier foreheads.
The lissome, kohl-eyelined man lifts his head from the floor hesitantly, casting a glance over the assembled tables before rising slowly.
Down on the Senate floor, The sleek, fine-boned man nods reverently as he is acknowledged.
Down on the Senate floor, The pot-bellied, black-robed templar points upward with an index finger.
In the amphitheater below, the pot-bellied, black-robed templar says:
"Replacements which would come at a significantly higher cost."
Down on the Senate floor, A bristling-bearded, jutnosed man's hands shake, rattling a parchment before he quickly puts it down on a table.
You think:
"This is terrible. Now what does she do?"
Down on the Senate floor, The pot-bellied, black-robed templar opens his hands wide, spreading them out palms upturned.
You think:
"She either votes against her own proposal or against the word of a Black."
In the amphitheater below, the pot-bellied, black-robed templar says:
"Clearly, the City Ministry budget would require additional funds to keep his Highlord's city maintained at the same levels he has decreed for it."
You think:
"Either way they'll note the weakness."
Down on the Senate floor, The slender, fair-haired woman twists her bone ring with an eclipse signet on her finger, her face pale as she stares down at the table.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man's gaze sweeps critically over the guards and merchants assembled on the balocny, then returns to the speaker below.
Down on the Senate floor, The pot-bellied, black-robed templar holds a fist in the air before himself.
The slight, silver-crowned woman reaches a hand down below the table, feeling for the svelte, ivory-skinned man's hand.
In the amphitheater below, the pot-bellied, black-robed templar says:
"Should this measure be enacted..."
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man gulps.
Down on the Senate floor, The pot-bellied, black-robed templar taps the top of an obsidian podium with the tip of his index finger.
The thick, curly-haired man seems unable to bring himself to gaze at the senate floor, instead staring at the floor with an expression of utter horror.
You notice: Slowly, a wince settles on the lofty, hazel-skinned man's face.
In the amphitheater below, the pot-bellied, black-robed templar says:
"I would be remiss in my fiduciary duty to his Highlord if I didn't introduce a measure to reallocate funds to the City Ministry budget from House stipends."
Down on the Senate floor, The sleek, fine-boned man blinks in surprise.
Down on the Senate floor, The pot-bellied, black-robed templar steps away from an obsidian podium.
You think:
"They may even fine us for proposing it."
Down on the Senate floor, The point-nosed, fine-boned man suddenly looks very uncomfortable in his stiff, ruffled black lace collar, adjusting it carefully.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, brown-bearded man frowns, head jerking up as he looks over to the pot-bellied, black-robed templar.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, brown-bearded man quickly lowers his head.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman takes a sudden interest in turning her shimmering, diamond-laden obsidian bracelet, staring red-faced at the gleaming object.
Down on the Senate floor, The pot-bellied, black-robed templar walks across the stage in a manner similar to his arrival.
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man looks like he wants to cry.
Down on the Senate floor, the pot-bellied, black-robed templar walks east.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man stands up from an elegant, baobab table.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man bows stiffly as the black-robed templar below departs, then retakes his seat.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, brown-bearded man rubs a hand over his face.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man sits at an elegant, baobab table.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man breathes heavily, clasping his other hand to his palm and stopping its movement.
The willowy, onyx-haired teen whispers something to the stocky, clean-shaven man.
The stocky, clean-shaven man nods wordlessly at the willowy, onyx-haired teen.
The short, scar-eyed templar stands up from an elegant, baobab table.
The slight, silver-crowned woman stares gaping at the senate floor, her expression a mix of shock and fear.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man starts to speak, his words stammering.
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man swallows, gathering up a sheaf of parchments with shaking hands.
The obese, bald man opens his mouth to say something but no words emerge.
A smile crossing his lips, the short, scar-eyed templar sits at an elegant, baobab table.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"The matter will now be put to the vote."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Borsail, how say you?"
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman opens her mouth once before her voice is heard.
At your table, you say in sirihish, softly, barely getting the words out:
"No. She has to say no."
In the amphitheater below, the austere narrow-eyed woman says:
"House Borsail...respectfully...votes yes."
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female sits rigidly on a carved cylini bench, gaze and expression distant.
The willowy, onyx-haired teen's jaw drops.
The slight, silver-crowned woman's jaw drops.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Valika, how say you?"
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the willowy, onyx-haired teen say in cavilish:
"Fek me!"
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man purses his lips, one gloved hand rubbing over his mouth and jaw.
Down on the Senate floor, The sleek, fine-boned man smiles wryly.
The svelte, ivory-skinned man shivers visibly, gripping the edge of the table.
The lofty, hazel-skinned man stares at the senate floor wide-eyed, jaw dropping and hands slapping his knees.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the chubby, brown-haired man say in cavilish, shaking his head:
"Unbelievable."
In the amphitheater below, the sleek, fine-boned man says:
"House Valika... votes AGAINST the proposal."
You feel like hiding under the table.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Oash, how say you."
In the amphitheater below, the thin, silky black-haired man says:
"Oash has another reason to vote against this. Against."
The willowy, onyx-haired teen claps a palm over her agape mouth.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the obese, bald man say in cavilish:
"Oh my, oh my, oh my my my."
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female clenches her fists, knuckles whitening as she slowly forces her gaze to the Senate floor.
Face paling three shades blancher than normal, the slight, silver-crowned woman just stares down at the senate floor toward the austere woman.
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish:
"They...she..how..."
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man glances at the austere narrow-eyed woman.
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man shakes his head as he watches the senate floor.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Fale, how say you?"
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman straightens in her chair and holds her posture erect, staring toward the podium.
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man is seen picking up some dice, blushing.
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man clears his throat.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman shoots a discreet glance toward your table, taking in your ashen face before returning her attention to the senate floor.
In the amphitheater below, the silvery-haired, wiry man says:
"After what the City ministry told us? Oh.. uhm.. we vote in favor of whatever he said. So.. against"
The svelte, ivory-skinned man puts a hand on his head, leaning back against the chair and exhaling.
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female swallows thickly.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Kasix, how say you?"
The lofty, hazel-skinned man closes his mouth again.
In the amphitheater below, the elderly, big-boned woman says:
"House Kasix votes... yes.. for the proposal... "
Down on the Senate floor, The elderly, big-boned woman glances at the austere narrow-eyed woman.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the lofty, hazel-skinned man say in sirihish, staring down at the senate floor:
"What?!"
You feel a bit of relief.
At your table, you say in sirihish, softly:
"At least we're not alone."
The warbraided, smoke-eyed man smirks quietly to himself.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman seems to relax slightly and nods her head toward the elderly, big-boned woman.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Rennik, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the slight, fiery-haired woman says:
"We say no."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in sirihish, words slow and broken:
"Yes, but we are silenced. "
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, Smiling over to the warbraided, smoke-eyed man:
"Money heals all wounds."
Down on the Senate floor, The tall, rakish man waves a hand.
At your table, you say in sirihish, her voice mute:
"I guess it's.. true. What they say."
At your table, you say in sirihish, to the svelte, ivory-skinned man, trying to smile:
"About... about imitations."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish, rasping softly:
"I knew Kasix liked to emulate Borsail, but that was surprising."
A silk-gloved hand still clapped over her mouth, the willowy, onyx-haired teen just stares at the Senate floor.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Tor, how say you?"
In the amphitheater below, the short, brown-bearded man says:
"Tor votes against this proposal."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish, nodding slightly:
"Well, that about does it."
At your table, you say in mirukkim, quietly:
"Krath, Sahale, we're so fucked."
At your table, the svelte, ivory-skinned man says in mirukkim, looking over to you, eyes hardened:
"I know..we have a lot to talk about..when we return."
The obese, bald man nods gently, as though it is all he can do.
The thick, curly-haired man quivers with fear, seeming distraught and uncertain.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the chubby, brown-haired man say in cavilish, to the stocky, clean-shaven man:
"This one isn't our worries...good thing."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Jal, how say you?"
Down on the Senate floor, The morose, white-haired matron glances at the austere narrow-eyed woman, then quickly away.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman glances toward the morose, white-haired matron and crosses her arms.
In the amphitheater below, the morose, white-haired matron says:
"Jal abstains."
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"House Sath, how say you?"
Down on the Senate floor, The thin, silky black-haired man scoffs loudly.
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman rolls her eyes and bends to speak with the stunted, silver-haired old man.
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the warbraided, smoke-eyed man say in sirihish:
"One abstention."
In the amphitheater below, a lop-jawed, black-haired woman says:
"Sath votes n...."
Down on the Senate floor, A lop-jawed, black-haired woman glances at the austere narrow-eyed woman.
In the amphitheater below, a lop-jawed, black-haired woman says:
"Yes."
Down on the Senate floor, The austere narrow-eyed woman turns her narrowed eyes on a lop-jawed, black-haired woman and nods.
The lissome, kohl-eyelined man takes intent interest in his boots, the thick lines of kohl around his eyes intense against the colourlessness of his visage.
The sinuous, wyvern-branded female blinks.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the stocky, clean-shaven man say in cavilish:
"If a Black had come up to speak out against us I would just jump over the railing and get it over with."
The slight, silver-crowned woman leans back in her seat, her slender brows furrowing.
Composed once again, the willowy, onyx-haired teen removes her hand from her mouth and pats the stocky, clean-shaven man's shoulder with it.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says:
"The motion to outlaw elemental magick from the city has failed. Six votes in favor, eleven against."
Down on the Senate floor, The silvery-haired, wiry man wipes his brow.
At a carved cylini bench, you overhear the chubby, brown-haired man say in cavilish, eyes widening:
"What? Is that more votes of yes?"
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish:
"It's as I thought. I should have placed some bets on this meeting."
At an elegant, baobab table, you overhear the short, scar-eyed templar say in sirihish:
"I was only surprised by the first vote."
Down on the Senate floor, The short, bearded man glances around the chamber, his hands shaking slightly as he gathers up his sheaf of parchment.
In the amphitheater below, the short, bearded man says, " I declare this Meet over."
Cast of Major Characters on the balcony:
the short, scar-eyed templar - Great Lord Templar Malenthis Jal, the Red
the warbraided, smoke-eyed man - Warlord Kharad Tor
the slight, silver-crowned woman - Lady Ceylara Borsail (her perspective)
the svelte, ivory-skinned - Lord Sahale Borsail
the plump,...
Continue Reading...Salting, Grebbing. by Kassindra
Added on Dec 24, 2008The lonesome grebber singing a tune.
"Salting, grebbing, such a boring thing to do.."
"But til I get a job, this is mostly what'll have to do.."
"Salting, grebbing, such a boring thing to do"
"But most of the time I don't mind.."
"Cause it gives me 'sid for shoes"
"Salting, grebbing, such a boring thing to do.."
"But it'll pay the rent"
"Before I get something more fun to do""Salting, grebbing, such a boring thing to do.."
"But til I get a job, this is mostly what'll have to do.."
"Salting, grebbing, such a boring thing to do"
"But most of the time I don't mind.."
"Cause it gives me 'sid for shoes"
"Salting, grebbing, such a boring thing to do.."
"But it'll pay the...
Continue Reading...Byn Stories I: The Bahamet and the Gimpka Rat by Evil Erdlu
Added on Dec 24, 2008The bardic spark may enlight the mind of a shitcloak? Maybe once in a blue moon...
At your table, the wiry, bearded man says in sirihish:
"Either'a you got stories?"At your table, you say in sirihish, mumbling:
"I kin make up one.."You stop using your chitin-studded anakore helm.
The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf wipes some sweat off his scalp.
The lean, white-haired man reaches up and scratches his cheek.
At your table, you say in sirihish, after a moment of silence, grinning widely:
"Did you hear the story of the gimpka rat and the bahamet?"The lean, white-haired man shakes his head.
At your table, you say in sirihish, grin widening:
"Of course you didn't.. I just made it up a few moments ago..."At your table, you say in sirihish, after clearing his throat:
"Eh.. lemme start.. Once upon a time, far north in the lands of the wild elves, lived a bahamet."The lean, white-haired man turns his full attention to you.
At your table, you say in sirihish, arching his arms to sides:
"Huge and proud, he stalked his hunting grounds every day, devouring anything of any size."At your table, you say in sirihish:
"One day, he saw a small gimpka rat and a teenager elf running after it."At your table, you say in sirihish, eyes narrowed:
"The bahamet was not hungry.. But still he felt mercy for the rat and backhanded the poor elf a few leagues away."At your table, the wiry, bearded man says in sirihish, regarding you levelly:
"Mate, you absolute shit at tellin' stories."At your table, you say in sirihish, voice joyful:
"With joy, the gimpka rat said; "You saved my life! You saved my life! I will remember it and will save your life one day."..."At your table, you say in sirihish, to the wiry, bearded man:
"Listen.. I'm making it up.. Of course it won't be a great story."The lean, white-haired man chuckles as he glances between you and the wiry, bearded man.
At your table, the wiry, bearded man says in sirihish:
"Says who? Gotta be plenty of stories 'at happened 'round for tha' tellin'."At your table, you say in sirihish, after a moment's silence:
"Eh.. The bahamet laughed so hard that the land shuddered. He was proud, so proud that he never thought he would ever need a gimpka rat..."At your table, you say in sirihish, keeping on without a stop:
"Days have passed. A dwarven stone elementalist named Alabaster decided, he could summon great magicks if he could acquire a bahamet's eyes. And so, he started preying upon our poor bahamet."At your table, you say in sirihish, head bobbed to a side:
"Magickers, even dwarven ones are not that stupid to face a bahamet openly of course.. So instead one day he suddenly made the vines move and empower with magick, entangling the bahamet."At your table, you say in sirihish:
"He was readying to summon his defiling power upon our poor bahamet but the gimpka rat, that gimpka rat the bahamet saved saw the situation."At your table, you say in sirihish:
"He dashed in haste and gnawed at the tendrils, saving the bahamet just in time."At your table, you say in sirihish, with a wide smile:
"Then the bahamet ate the head of the dwarven magicker."At your table, the lean, white-haired man says in sirihish:
"Well at least there was a happy ending."At your table, the wiry, bearded man says in sirihish, dubiously:
"Yeh, mate, like I said. You utter shit at tellin' tales."At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Then... You think the bahamet understood his mistake and knew even the weakest can aid so not to be undermined?"At your table, you say in sirihish, shaking his head:
"No.. The bahamet was hungry.. He ate the gimpka rat too.. That's the end."The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf smiles proudly.
The lean, white-haired man chuckles.
At your table, the lean, white-haired man says in sirihish:
"Well he's better at telling a tale than me."
At your table, you say in sirihish, idly, at the wiry, bearded man:
"Eh.. Shit or not shit.. If I'm not going to shovel it, I don' care."At your table, the wiry, bearded man says in sirihish:
"Either'a you got stories?"At your table, you say in sirihish, mumbling:
"I kin make up one.."You stop using your chitin-studded anakore helm.
The barrel-chested, freckled dwarf wipes some sweat off his scalp.
The lean,...
Continue Reading...Rukkian Encounter by Zoltan
Added on Dec 24, 2008Some hunters stumble upon a Rukkian with out-of-control magickal vomit powers.
Indy hunters Louas and Jurij are out with some of the members of their hunters' guild in the deep desert when a sudden storm (ie sudden crash) causes the party to scatter. Jurij is finally found by Louas and the two head out in search of the others when they hear cries for help. They go to investigate. The following is from Jurij's point of view.
Jurij, the rugged, dark-eyed dwarf
This dwarf is built like a rock. His broad, chiseled shoulders are as wide as
he is tall. His well muscled arms terminate in large, rough hands. He has
slightly bow legged, adding to his square, sturdy appearance. His face is
moderately wrinkled, showing the ravages of a lifetime of hard work and
exposure to the elements. Dark eyes stare out from under his thick brow, the
vivid whiteness of the cornea contrasting intensely with the blackness of the
iris and pupil. Between his eyes is a large, round nose that sits above a
thin-lipped mouth. The very tip of his left ear appears to have been cut off
by some past trauma.You are using:
<worn on head> a chitin-studded anakore helm
<worn around neck> a reddish-brown chitinous collar
<worn about throat> a water gourd
<slung across back> a bloodied serrated, blackened bone war-axe
<worn across back> a red-striped canvas backpack
<worn on torso> a new bloodied cuirbouilli cuirass
<worn on arms> a set of cuirbouilli sleeves
<worn around wrist> a bloodied studded bone bracer
<worn around wrist> a studded bone bracer
<worn on hands> a stained pair of chitin-plated leather gloves
<worn as belt> a leather swordbelt
<hung from belt> a razor-edged, obsidian tomahawk
<hung from belt> an obsidian-headed polished-bone mace
<worn around body> a hooded, sandy-brown reinforced sandcloth duster
<worn about waist> a pouched belt
<worn on legs> a set of cuirbouilli leg guards
<worn on right ankle> a leather and chitin strap-sheath
<worn on feet> a pair of tall, carru-hide moccasinsYou swing your legs to the side and dismount.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak looks down at the maimed, murky-eyed man.
You stop watching the west exit.
You begin watching the maimed, murky-eyed man.Keeping his distance, you ask the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"What is it?"The maimed, murky-eyed man begins to quiver on his knees, making terrible moaning sounds.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak intently scans the area.
The figure in a dusty hooded, sandy-brown reinforced sandcloth duster grimaces.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"What's wrong with ya?"You lower the hood of a dusty hooded, sandy-brown reinforced sandcloth duster.
You look up at the maimed, murky-eyed man.
A great swirl of creased scar tissue disturbs the shallow wrinkles of
this man's swarthy face. The left of his nose, cheek, and forehead seem to
be the most affected and are less several large chunks of tissue and
multitudes of smaller lacerations. Underneath the damage a narrow,
economical skeletal structure of sharp angles shapes high cheekbones,
slanted eyebrows, and a square jaw and chin. The dominant tone of his skin
is a brazen brown except where linear streaks of light and dark blue arch
out along the right side of his face in trails of various lengths. His eyes
and hair are a muddy brown of varying consistency, the latter of which hangs
down around his head in a shaggy crown spreading out from a thinning patch
in the center. His body is small and lean, crafted for the swiftness and
endurance necessitated by the harsh landscapes it resembles.
The maimed, murky-eyed man is in excellent condition.The maimed, murky-eyed man is using:
<worn on head> a dusty brown sandcloth turban
<face> an angular series of light and dark blue lines
<worn around neck> a dull black gem
<worn on arms> a pair of black sandcloth sleeves
<worn around body> a dusty layered black cloak with an agate clasp
<worn on legs> a pair of trim, black sandcloth trousers
<worn on feet> a dusty pair of darkly-stained, knee-high raptor-hide bootsHe is carrying:
nothing obviousThe maimed, murky-eyed man opens his mouth at the very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak, but sand flies out and splatters to the dunes.
Hopping back, you exclaim, in sirihish:
"Fuckin' Krath!"The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak swings his legs to the side and dismounts.
You exclaim to the very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak, in sirihish:
"Did ya see that?!"The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak unstrap his dusty leather strapped, traveling knapsack from a war beetle's back.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak opens a dusty leather strapped, traveling knapsack.
The maimed, murky-eyed man begins a spell, and the earth trembles in response.
The maimed, murky-eyed man utters an incantation.
The maimed, murky-eyed man gestures, summoning food from the air itself.
A dark purple kank steak suddenly appears.The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak gets his dusty water gourd from his dusty leather strapped, traveling knapsack.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak closes a dusty leather strapped, traveling knapsack.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak straps his dusty leather strapped, traveling knapsack to a war beetle's back.
The maimed, murky-eyed man bends over and vomits a stream of sand which turns into a dark purple kank steak.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak drops a dusty water gourd, which settles to the sand.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf stumbles back towards a war beetle, mouth agape.
The maimed, murky-eyed man crashes to the dune, writhing in obvious pain.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak points to his dusty water gourd.
As sand spews forth from his mouth, the maimed, murky-eyed man exclaims, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"GRRREEEEEEEHHHHLLLLPPPP!!!!!!"The maimed, murky-eyed man wretches forward again.
Pointing his axe at the maimed, murky-eyed man, you ask the very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak, in sirihish:
"Is -that- how Falmie made our food?"Watching the maimed, murky-eyed man with wide eyes, you exclaim, in sirihish:
"Gah!"The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak says to you, in sirihish:
"Not quite so elegantly."The maimed, murky-eyed man vomits only sand.
You begin speaking mirukkim.
The maimed, murky-eyed man crashes back to the dunes, convulsing.
Flopping down, the maimed, murky-eyed man sits down to rest.
You say, in mirukkim:
"Krath. Fucking Krath..."You begin speaking sirihish.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak says to the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Drink the fuckin' water."You say to the very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak, in sirihish:
"He won't stop pukin'... sand."Pushing up to his feet, still bent double, the maimed, murky-eyed man rises and stands.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf shakes his head slowly.
The sun begins its long voyage across the heavens.
The maimed, murky-eyed man begins to lumber after you, sand dribbling from his mouth in a steady stream.
You exclaim, in sirihish:
"Stay back! Stay th' -fuck- back!"The maimed, murky-eyed man begins a spell, and the earth trembles in response.
The maimed, murky-eyed man utters an incantation.
The maimed, murky-eyed man gestures, summoning food from the air itself.
A slice of gritty brown bread suddenly appears.The maimed, murky-eyed man vomits sand at your feet, which suddenly turns into a slice of gritty brown bread!
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf's left hand darts down to his waist.
You draw an obsidian-headed polished-bone mace.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak picks up a dusty water gourd.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf stumbles back, trying to ward the maimed, murky-eyed man off with your dusty serrated, blackened bone war-axe.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak says to you, in sirihish:
"We'll take 'im with us."Still plodding forward, more sand draining from his mouth, the maimed, murky-eyed man exclaims to you, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"Grrrrraaaawwwllbb!"The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak stops holding his new dusty chitin-decorated wooden shield.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf falls over, landing on his ass.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak stops holding his dusty obsidian-bladed battle axe.
You sit down.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak bends down near the maimed, murky-eyed man, gripping the maimed, murky-eyed man's arm.
Scrambling backward, leaving a trail on the sand, you exclaim to the very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak, in sirihish:
"Louas! Ya can't be serious!"The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak subdues the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak says, in sirihish:
"Get up on yer kank."Slowly, you stand up.
A trickle of sand sprays onto the very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak from the maimed, murky-eyed man's gaping maw.
You sheathe an obsidian-headed polished-bone mace.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf gropes for a war beetle's reins.
You suffer from use of the Way.
You contact the long-limbed blue-eyed man with the Way.You suffer from use of the Way.
You send a telepathic message to the long-limbed blue-eyed man:
"*terrified* Should we just kill this freak now?"The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf looks to the very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak with wild eyes.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak says to you, in sirihish:
"He could be useful, let's go."You dissolve the psychic link.
The maimed, murky-eyed man wriggles in the very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak's arms, kicking and bucking with waning stamina.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf swallows hard and finds a war beetle's reins.
You jump up onto a war beetle's back.
A short trip through the desert, then...
Wave Dunes [NESW]
Cloudy glass has fused in the sands here, forming a large deposit.
The maimed, murky-eyed man is standing here held by the very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak.
A war beetle is reclining here.
- it is carrying a large bag.
The large, clean-shaven man is reclining here.
A war beetle is reclining here.
- it is carrying a large bag.
The red haired, white-pupiled woman is standing here, looking a bit winded.
A huge sandy-brown lizard stands here, foraging for food.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak is standing here.
- he is carrying a large bag.
A war beetle has arrived from the north.The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak exclaims, in sirihish:
"Tent!"You swing your legs to the side and dismount.
You are a little thirsty.
The wind loses some momentum.The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak gets his rope-bound, tan-colored tent from his large bag.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak drops a rope-bound, tan-colored tent, which settles to the sand.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak quickly unrolls a rope-bound, tan-colored tent and begins constructing it.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak releases the maimed, murky-eyed man, who immediately moves away.
You exclaim, in sirihish:
"Set up th' tent! Keep yer distance!"The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak pulls on a war beetle's reins.
A war beetle curls up on the ground.The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak attempts to grab the maimed, murky-eyed man, but he wrestles away.
The maimed, murky-eyed man sprays an unnatural amount of sand out on the ground as he collapses.
You pull on a war beetle's reins.
A war beetle curls up on the ground.The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak subdues the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak slings a dusty heavy bone cleaver across his back.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak sheathes a dusty large, yellowed bone club.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak enters a crude tan-colored tent.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak drags the maimed, murky-eyed man in as well.
You enter a crude tan-colored tent.Inside a crude tan-colored tent [Leave Save]
The maimed, murky-eyed man is standing here held by the very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak.The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak releases the maimed, murky-eyed man, who immediately moves away.
The very tall figure in a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak pushes the maimed, murky-eyed man into a corner of the tent.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak has entered a crude tan-colored tent.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak begins guarding the way out.
Sand begins to leak into the tent from the maimed, murky-eyed man's mouth and nose.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man lowers the hood of a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak asks, in sirihish:
"What wrongs?"Crumpling to the ground, the maimed, murky-eyed man sits down to rest.
Pointing menacingly, if a little shakily, with your dusty serrated, blackened bone war-axe, you say to the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Stay put. Just... stay right there."The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"sit down."The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak looks down at the maimed, murky-eyed man.
Near the maimed, murky-eyed man, the long-limbed blue-eyed man drops his dusty water gourd.
Shaking his head, you say to the gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak, in sirihish:
"I don't know what's goin' on... This freak is spewin' sand... screamin'. Krath."Reaching a hand out to the gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak, his eyes pleading as sand pours from his mouth, the maimed, murky-eyed man exclaims, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"Grrreeeeellllbbbb!"The long-limbed blue-eyed man exclaims to the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Sit back!"The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak whispers something to the long-limbed blue-eyed man.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak slings a dusty heavy bone cleaver across his back.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"You touch anyone and I'll let 'im rip your head off."The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak draws a large, yellowed bone club.
Sand dribbling from his mouth at an alarming rate, the maimed, murky-eyed man exclaims to the gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"GRreeeelellllblblbbbb!"The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf lets out a slow breath.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man holds his new dusty chitin-decorated wooden shield.
Across the tent, the long-limbed blue-eyed man sits down.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man brandishes his dusty obsidian-bladed battle axe.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to the gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak, in sirihish:
"If he gets up, grab him."The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf keeps station beside the tent flap, his eyes locked on the maimed, murky-eyed man.
Spasming about, the maimed, murky-eyed man rises and stands.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak looks down at the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The maimed, murky-eyed man shouts, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"Hey! Hey!"The maimed, murky-eyed man shouts, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"Help! Over here!"Gurgling, the maimed, murky-eyed man shouts, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"Help!"The maimed, murky-eyed man's head lolls to the side.
Sounding as if he is choking, the maimed, murky-eyed man shouts, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"Lllgggggg!!"The maimed, murky-eyed man begins to quiver on his knees, making terrible moaning sounds.
The maimed, murky-eyed man crashes to the dune, writhing in obvious pain.
As sand spews forth from his mouth, the maimed, murky-eyed man exclaims, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"GRRREEEEEEEHHHHLLLLPPPP!!!!!!"The maimed, murky-eyed man wretches forward again.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak hastily drops a dusty large, yellowed bone club.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak hastily drops a large, yellowed bone club.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak attempts to grab the maimed, murky-eyed man, but he wrestles away.The maimed, murky-eyed man vomits only sand.
The gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak subdues the maimed, murky-eyed man.
Gently, the gigantic and obese figure in a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak holds out the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant lowers the hood of a dusty desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"Push him back on the floor."The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Yous oks?"The maimed, murky-eyed man leaks sand from his mouth and nose onto the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant.
Nodding, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant slowly lowers the maimed, murky-eyed man.
You say to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"Krath! Don't breath it in!"Writhing about, sand muffling his words, the maimed, murky-eyed man shouts, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"Greeeeelllbbb!"The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf begins to dart forward but keeps his position by the tent flap.
Nodding, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant coughs as he inhales some sand floating around the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant releases the maimed, murky-eyed man, who immediately moves away.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says, in sirihish:
"I'm trying to find Kolt."The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant picks up a large, yellowed bone club.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant brandishes his large, yellowed bone club.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant picks up a dusty large, yellowed bone club.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant holds his dusty large, yellowed bone club.
You say to the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Alright... alright. Good idea."The maimed, murky-eyed man crashes into one side of the tent, quivering madly.
You hear a man's voice shout from outside in rinthi-accented sirihish:
"What the feck is goin on in there?"The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant coughs.
You shout in sirihish:
"I-I don't know!"As more sand spews forth, littering the floor of the tent, the maimed, murky-eyed man shouts, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"GRReeeeellllbbb!"Feeling terrified, you think:
"Fucking Krath. I can't believe this shit... I just can't believe it."You think:
"Why are we helping him?"You think:
"Why didn't we just ride on by? Fuck! -Fuck-!"The maimed, murky-eyed man appears to regain control of his writhing body and stands perfectly still.
The maimed, murky-eyed man begins a spell, and the earth trembles in response.
You think:
"And now Kolt. That fucking arrogant freak... he's going to be out here. He'll only make things worse."The maimed, murky-eyed man utters an incantation.
The maimed, murky-eyed man gestures, summoning food from the air itself.
A slice of gritty brown bread suddenly appears.The maimed, murky-eyed man bends forward, wretching over.
The maimed, murky-eyed man spews out a large amount of sand, which turns into a slice of gritty brown bread!
Grinning broadly, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant exclaims, in sirihish:
"Wow!! Food!"The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf's jaw drops open as the maimed, murky-eyed man vomits... food.
You exclaim to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"Don't touch it!"Reaching foir a slice of gritty brown bread, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant jerks his hand back.
The maimed, murky-eyed man starts to run right for you in a maddening spring, sand dropping from his mouth onto the already sandy floor.
You exclaim, in sirihish:
"Oh -fuck- no!"The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant sheathes a large, yellowed bone club.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man stands up.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant sheathes a dusty large, yellowed bone club.
As he charges forward, the maimed, murky-eyed man exclaims to you, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"GREEEEEEELLLLLBBBB!!!!"The long-limbed blue-eyed man hastily drops a new dusty chitin-decorated wooden shield.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man hastily drops a dusty obsidian-bladed battle axe.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man attempts to grab the maimed, murky-eyed man, but he wrestles away.The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant subdues the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The maimed, murky-eyed man struggles in vain against the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man picks up a new dusty chitin-decorated wooden shield.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man picks up a dusty obsidian-bladed battle axe.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf falls over backward, screaming.
You sit down.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant growls squeezing the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The maimed, murky-eyed man begins to gasp as the flow of sand is choked to a trickle.
Slowly, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant lifts the maimed, murky-eyed man up with a massive arm.
You exclaim to the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Stay... -back-!"The long-limbed blue-eyed man shouts, in sirihish:
"May as well cut some glass out there."The maimed, murky-eyed man's face pulses red with blood.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf trembles violently.
The maimed, murky-eyed man stares straight into the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant's eyes.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"You want him to let go?"With a tight grip around the maimed, murky-eyed man, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant says to the
long-limbed blue-eyed man, in sirihish:
"What up wid dis guy boss? "You are a little thirsty.
The maimed, murky-eyed man gags on what little sand still comes out of his mouth.
With a shaky hand, you drink the water.
You are no longer thirsty.You stand up.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"Keep him held down."Louas heads out the tent briefly to send their hunting companions home...
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"You oks der?"The maimed, murky-eyed man shakes his head as best he can at the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant - which isn't much.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks, in sirihish:
"We ain't mean folks. What wrong, maybe we helps?"The maimed, murky-eyed man's face begins to lose all color.
You think:
"Speak for yourself, King. This guy is freaking me the fuck out."Frowning, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant removes the tight grip from the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant says to the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Breath deep friend."The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant grins at the maimed, murky-eyed man.
His breathing ragged, you say to the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Yeah... Just stay -calm-."The maimed, murky-eyed man chokes and sputters, though the sand has seemed to stop pouring from his orifices.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man has entered a crude tan-colored tent.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man picks up a dusty water gourd.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"You want this water?"The long-limbed blue-eyed man eats his bloodied pair of firm, segmented antennae.
The maimed, murky-eyed man shakes his head at the long-limbed blue-eyed man.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant says to the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Can yous talks?"The long-limbed blue-eyed man asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Can you sit still?"Speech broken and mangled, the maimed, murky-eyed man exclaims to the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"Can't help! I can't!"Pleadingly, the maimed, murky-eyed man exclaims to the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"Let me go! Let me go!"Simply, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks, in sirihish:
"Helps whats?"The long-limbed blue-eyed man asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Can't help what?"You ask the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Did ya find Kolt's mind?"The long-limbed blue-eyed man nods at you.
The maimed, murky-eyed man struggles in vain against the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks, in sirihish:
"Let's 'im go boss?"The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf grunts and nods.
The maimed, murky-eyed man exclaims to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"Yesss! Yes!"Narrowing his eyes, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks, in sirihish:
"Or knocks 'im outs?"The long-limbed blue-eyed man shakes his head.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Where ya headed?"The maimed, murky-eyed man exclaims, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"Away! Gone! Away!"The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant says, in sirihish:
"Him Siek..."The long-limbed blue-eyed man asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Siek throw ya out because of the gem?"The maimed, murky-eyed man ceases speaking, focusing instead of wriggling out of the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant's grasp.
The maimed, murky-eyed man struggles in vain against the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf frowns.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Away, where? To die in some hole?"The maimed, murky-eyed man struggles against the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant and breaks free.
The maimed, murky-eyed man attempts to flee.
The maimed, murky-eyed man leaves a crude tan-colored tent.You exclaim, in sirihish:
"Ah, shit!"The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant leaves a crude tan-colored tent.
Outside a crude tan-colored tent: the maimed, murky-eyed man jumps up onto a war beetle's back.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man leaves a crude tan-colored tent.
A brief struggle ensues, and the Rukkian is dragged off of Louas's beetle. They return to the tent.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant stops guarding the long-limbed blue-eyed man.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant begins guarding the way out.The long-limbed blue-eyed man exclaims to the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"You were stealin' a beetle!"Kicking his little feet at the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, the maimed, murky-eyed man exclaims, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"Let me go!"The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant squeezes tight on the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man exclaims, in sirihish:
"My beetle!"The long-limbed blue-eyed man brandishes his dusty obsidian-bladed battle axe.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf scowls.The maimed, murky-eyed man gasps for air.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant squeezes tighter, suddenly you hear the crunching of bones, probably ribs of the maimed, murky-eyed man.
You look up at the long-limbed blue-eyed man.
The overly long limbs of this lean blue-eyed man give him an awkward
stance. His long light brown hair is pulled back snugly into a single
flowing topknot. His youthful clean features defy the wisdom-filled blue
eyes that roam over everything with a warrior's appraisal, beneath which a
solitary tattoo of three blue tears drips down his left cheek.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man is in excellent condition.The long-limbed blue-eyed man is using:
<worn on head> a dusty cuirbouilli helmet
<worn in hair> a dusty thin leather headband
<worn on face> a dusty plain sandcloth bandana
<worn in right ear> a dusty loop of bleached bone
<worn around neck> a dusty gurth shell collar
<worn about throat> a dusty water gourd
<slung across back> a dusty ebon wood, recurve longbow
<worn on right shoulder> a dusty scrab-shell shoulder plate
<worn on left shoulder> a dusty scrab-shell shoulder plate
<worn on arms> a set of cuirbouilli sleeves
<worn around wrist> a blackened grey, chitin wrist razor
<worn around wrist> a bloodied grey, chitin wrist razor
<worn on hands> a dusty pair of anakore-claw gloves
<primary hand> a dusty obsidian-bladed battle axe
<secondary hand> a new dusty chitin-decorated wooden shield
<worn on forearms> a dusty leather and chitin strap-sheath
<worn around body> a dusty drab, weathered stormcloak
<worn on legs> a bloodied set of cuirbouilli leg guards
<worn on right ankle> a dusty small leather pouch
<worn on left ankle> a dusty small leather pouch
<worn on feet> a dusty pair of spike-toed, thigh-high leather bootsHe is carrying:
nothing obviousThe rugged, dark-eyed dwarf winces slightly.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Give a good reason quick why I don' remove your head?"The maimed, murky-eyed man yelps as things inside of him make bad noises.
With a steady grasp on the maimed, murky-eyed man, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant growls viciously.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"Knock him out."You think:
"Krath, am I glad King is with us."Gasping, the maimed, murky-eyed man exclaims, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"No!"The maimed, murky-eyed man struggles in vain against the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant draws a large, yellowed bone club.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant releases the maimed, murky-eyed man, who immediately moves away.A real clusterfuck ensues. The Rukkian slips out, and King accidently blocks his much smaller comrades from leaving the tent. They eventually scramble out to find...
Wave Dunes [NESW]
The maimed, murky-eyed man lays here, blood dribbling from his mouth.The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf scowls as he rides up to the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The wind changes direction.
You swing your legs to the side and dismount.
You slow down to a brisk walk.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man has arrived from the east.
A war beetle has arrived from the east.Excitedly, you ask the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Is Kolt comin' or not?"The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant has arrived from the east, riding a sandy-brown inix.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man shakes his head.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks, in sirihish:
"You gets dat tent boss?"The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to you, in sirihish:
"He's in Luirs"The long-limbed blue-eyed man nods to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant swings his legs to the side and dismounts.
You ask the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Did he tell ya anythin' 'bout this freak?"The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks, in sirihish:
"King clubs?"The long-limbed blue-eyed man gives his large, yellowed bone club to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant holds his large, yellowed bone club.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant unslings a dusty heavy bone cleaver from his back.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant slings a dusty heavy bone cleaver across his back.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant sheathes a large, yellowed bone club.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant subdues the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to you, in sirihish:
"Nothing."The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf looks the maimed, murky-eyed man over, careful to keep his distance.
The maimed, murky-eyed man sags in the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant's grasp.
You ask the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Should we just leave him out here then?"The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"What wrongs?"You think:
"We should!"The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to you, in sirihish:
"I don' know."The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to you, in sirihish:
"He was yellin' for help, then running."The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"How we's helps yous?".Glowering to the maimed, murky-eyed man, the long-limbed blue-eyed man says, in sirihish:
"Stealing a beetle."Shrugging, you ask the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Maybe we should drag him into 'Nak? Maybe get a reward?"The maimed, murky-eyed man lies down and falls asleep.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant wakes the maimed, murky-eyed man up.
The maimed, murky-eyed man's his lolls to the side. His eyes are only half-open.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to you, in sirihish:
"I'll ask one of the militia."The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf nods.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf glowers at the maimed, murky-eyed man and shakes his head slowly.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant looks down at the maimed, murky-eyed man.
You ask, in sirihish:
"Ya don't think he was tryin' t' run from 'Nak?"Barely above the sound of his own breathing, the maimed, murky-eyed man whispers something to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant whispers something to the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man asks, in sirihish:
"Baghra? Is that your name?"Grunting, you ask the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"What'd he say?"The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant says, in sirihish:
"Him want me lets him goes."The mighty sun begins to crawl across the western sky.
The maimed, murky-eyed man whispers something to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant.
The maimed, murky-eyed man whispers something to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man drinks water from his dusty water gourd.
You exclaim to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"Don't listen t' him, King! He's tryin' some witch shit, I'm sure o' it!"The long-limbed blue-eyed man drinks water from his dusty water gourd.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant says to the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Him want goes."The long-limbed blue-eyed man asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Baghra?"The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"You promise not hurt me or friends?"A sandy-brown inix stretches its hind legs, arching its back.
A bit of blood dripping onto him from his mouth, the maimed, murky-eyed man whispers something to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant.
Frowning, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant says, in sirihish:
"Maybe him needs go baaad."The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant peers over at the long-limbed blue-eyed man.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"Let him go."The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"You not steal no mounts?"The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf nods slowly.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant releases the maimed, murky-eyed man, who immediately moves away.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant unslings a dusty heavy bone cleaver from his back.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant draws a dusty large, yellowed bone club.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man jumps up onto a war beetle's back.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant sits down to rest.
Collapsing with a thud, the maimed, murky-eyed man lies down to rest.
The maimed, murky-eyed man shudders once.
The maimed, murky-eyed man shudders again with more intensity.
You think:
"Not again..."Struggling to his knees, the maimed, murky-eyed man rises and stands.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to you, in sirihish:
"Let's head back."The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks the maimed, murky-eyed man, in sirihish:
"You bes ok?"The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf nods to the long-limbed blue-eyed man, slowly peeling his eyes off of the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The maimed, murky-eyed man's eyes roll back into his head as he rises completely.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant rises from the ground, and clambers to his feet.
You stop watching the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The maimed, murky-eyed man sticks out his hands at the long-limbed blue-eyed man.
The maimed, murky-eyed man begins a spell, and the earth trembles in response.
The maimed, murky-eyed man utters an incantation.
You exclaim, in sirihish:
"What the--?!"The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant attacks the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant chops the maimed, murky-eyed man's body, inflicting a grievous wound.
The maimed, murky-eyed man reels from the blow.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant bludgeons the maimed, murky-eyed man on his arm, wounding him.The long-limbed blue-eyed man narrows his eyes at the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The maimed, murky-eyed man turns to you now.
The maimed, murky-eyed man's attack on the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant is absorbed by a bloodied gurth shell and leather vest.
The maimed, murky-eyed man is thrown backwards by the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant's vicious onslaught.
The maimed, murky-eyed man lunges at the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, but his blow is deftly deflected by a bloodied gurth shell and leather vest.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant chops the maimed, murky-eyed man's head, doing horrendous damage.
The maimed, murky-eyed man cries out in pain.
The maimed, murky-eyed man crumples to the ground.The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf winces.
Growling, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant jerks his dusty heavy bone cleaver from the body of the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man watches the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, blowing out a breath.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf swallows, with extreme difficulty.
To the body of the maimed, murky-eyed man, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant says, in sirihish:
"You never be means my boss."You ask the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Yer alright?"Lifting his dusty heavy bone cleaver, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant rises high above the body of the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant removes the head from the body of the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant rips through the headless body of the maimed, murky-eyed man with his dusty heavy bone cleaver.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant peers over at the long-limbed blue-eyed man.
Plucking it off carefully, you get your dull black gem from the headless body of the maimed, murky-eyed man.
It is very light.The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in sirihish:
"You oks boss?"The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant looks down at the long-limbed blue-eyed man.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man sighs a bit.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf holds your dull black gem up to inspect it.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says, in sirihish:
"Ya, I don' know what he did."Still staring at the headless body of the maimed, murky-eyed man, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant exclaims to the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Yah, me doesn'ts eiders. Him try kills yous!"You say to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"Thanks fer jumpin' in there, King."You feel your fear subside.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man swings his legs to the side and dismounts.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant exclaims, in sirihish:
"Him was gonna try hurt me boss!"The long-limbed blue-eyed man says, in sirihish:
"Maybe, we don' know what he was doing."Nodding slowly as he toes the headless body of the maimed, murky-eyed man over, you say to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"Krath..."Tilting his head, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant says, in sirihish:
"Uhh, what? "The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"There's no way to know what he was saying, what magick."The long-limbed blue-eyed man shrugs his shoulders.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant picks up the head of the maimed, murky-eyed man.
You say to the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in sirihish:
"Well, he -was- spewin' sand an' food before. But..."The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to you, in sirihish:
"That was different, he was pointing to us."You say to the long-limbed blue-eyed man, in sirihish:
"He was actin' different that last time. Who knows. It's... better this way."To his head of the maimed, murky-eyed man, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant says, in sirihish:
"You come at my boss like you was gonna hurts 'im. You shoulda went likes yah said."The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf nods.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"Leave it all here."The long-limbed blue-eyed man gets his dusty layered black cloak with an agate clasp from the headless body of the maimed, murky-eyed man.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant drops the head of the maimed, murky-eyed man, which settles to the sand.
Over a body, the long-limbed blue-eyed man drops his dusty layered black cloak with an agate clasp.
The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf frowns down at your dull black gem.
The late, red sun descends toward the western horizon.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man arranges a dusty layered black cloak with an agate clasp.
You drop a dull black gem, which settles to the sand. Shown to the room as:
A small black gem on a string of plant fibers lies here.Hanging his head, the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant asks, in sirihish:
"Did I do bad boss?"You arrange a dull black gem.
Wave Dunes [NESW]
A dull black gem lies on top of a body.
A dusty layered black cloak with an agate clasp is here over a corpse.
The head of the maimed, murky-eyed man lies here.
The headless body of the maimed, murky-eyed man lies crumpled here.
A huge sandy-brown lizard stands here, foraging for food.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant is standing here, looking a bit winded.
- he is carrying a large bag.
A large war beetle crawls about, struggling against its chitin harness.
- it is carrying a leather strapped, traveling knapsack.
- it is carrying a large bag.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man is standing here.
A large war beetle crawls about, struggling against its chitin harness.
- it is carrying a red-striped canvas backpack.The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"No, there's no way to know."The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant sighs.
Looking down at the headless body of the maimed, murky-eyed man, you say to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"Ya did th' right thing, King. I woulda done it, if I had been closer."The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant nods at you.
You say to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"There's no tellin' with these freaks."The long-limbed blue-eyed man jumps up onto a war beetle's back.
The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant jumps up onto a sandy-brown inix's back.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says, in sirihish:
"We're done speakin' of it."The rugged, dark-eyed dwarf wearily pulls himself up into the saddle.
The long-limbed blue-eyed man says to the huge, scaley-skinned half-giant, in sirihish:
"Ever."The huge, scaley-skinned half-giant nods to the long-limbed blue-eyed man.
Nodding firmly, you say, in sirihish:
"Agreed."Indy hunters Louas and Jurij are out with some of the members of their hunters' guild in the deep desert when a sudden storm (ie sudden crash) causes the party to scatter. Jurij is finally found by Louas and the two head out in search of the others when they hear cries for help. They go to...
Continue Reading...A Raiders Recounting by The Shadow's Pen
Added on Dec 24, 2008A grizzled man from a raiding family gives his rendition of a traumatic event in his life.
I am a man who's life can be summed up in two words: truly tragic. You may be wondering, "Why is this stranger starting a story this way?" Well, I'll tell you why. Name's Bardiel Kasien'da, Former Chief of the Red Desert Riders. You may not have heard of us, since we're unofficial, but you may have heard of at least a few things. For instance, we're a raiding party that has family values (shocking, I know).
Anyway, our hierarchy goes like this: my family runs the top, with others supporting them. You can vie for a higher position, but unless you're really skilled, you may just lose a hand. Those that aren't in families form the general makeup of the clan, and have an equal opperotunity to be a high rank in the clan. What do we do to keep our members supplied with clothes, armor, supplies, and weaponry? Simple: we raid, we hunt, we trade, and we kill to survive.
We were, at one time, one of the greatest targets on the list for the Templars. We attacked caravans with such coordination, skill, and daring, we were feared in the desert. Twice a week, me, mom, and the siblings went out for "family bonding", much to the ire of nearby merchants. One time, however, our family bonding cost us dearly. This is a record on that time.
My younger brother was a special kind of guy, always reporting to us on visions he had seen. He never reported directly, because he was born mute, but when we wen on raids, he wore special cloaks. He had a black one for death, a red one for crippling injury, a blue one for mental scars, and a white one for a reular old raid. Most of the time, these were just cloaks, and just solid colors. However, during the planning of one raid, he came to the meeting tent with a unique creation.
Honestly, I can never find out how he got the time for this: a full robe, with one arm red with a small bar of blue, the other arm with a large, blue splatter, with traces of red on it. The hood of his robe was white, but as it descended towards his feet, it began to turn red, and finally, patches of black. Embroidered on the chest of the robe was an open ginka fruit, framed in black around the red. We might have stopped planning if we had understood what the robe meant. However, we simply continued, dismissing my brother's robe for a wierd taste.
"Why did we ever do that?" I keep asking myself, to this day. We continued, however, and we went on with the raid as planned. As we met our target -- a large shipment of obsidian weapons, easily worth their weight -- we began a final discussion on what to do. Unfortunately, just as this discussion was going, someone turned traitor and leaked our location to the merchant and his guards. A bolt whizzing passed clued me into that.
We were good at raids, but with the element of suprise gone, the guards easily picked off much of our numbers. As I was strafing the arrows, one archer got the timing right and an arrow started whizzing near, aimed towards my belly. Just as I was about to get the hit, my brother rides past and takess it, instead. We could have pulled the arrow out and dressed him at home, but the kank he was riding on reared forward and trotted on, smashing his skull underfoot. It did, in fact, look like a ginka being juiced.
With the death of my brother, we broke off the raid, and the guards chased us for about a few seconds before breaking it off. My sister -- who, before then, was a very nice girl -- got her arm lopped off, and the incident traumatized her. My mom and dad retired, leaving me as the chief, but after a few more raids, I disbanded the clan. I still see the chaos when I go to sleep, and yet again, when I wake up. After that incident, which effectively shortened my life by a decade, I can just say this: my brother had a very dark sense of humor.
I am a man who's life can be summed up in two words: truly tragic. You may be wondering, "Why is this stranger starting a story this way?" Well, I'll tell you why. Name's Bardiel Kasien'da, Former Chief of the Red Desert Riders. You may not have heard of us, since we're unofficial, but you may...
Continue Reading...Lapitia and Thialle: Marital Bliss? (Part I) by Medena
Added on Nov 30, 2008Very soon after his marriage to Lady Lapitia Fale, Lord Thialle Fale (formerly Borsail) was arrested and thrown in the Highlord`s Dungeons. As the scene begins, Lady Lapitia, believing him to be still locked up in the dungeons, is in his room going through his things.
A foreign presence contacts your mind.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Lapitia."
The plump, prismatic-haired woman darts from the room.
You contact the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man with the Way.
You think:
"Like he knew...like he knew I was there."
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"Thialle."
You feel your heart pounding in your chest.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Do something unpredictable for me."
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"Very well."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"I haven`t got any specific suggestions, I merely imply.. say something unexpected."
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"I wanted to say how distressed I am that my beloved husband, our marriage as yet unconsummated, lies languishing in that filthy dungeon."
A titter spills out of the plump, prismatic-haired woman`s twisted lips.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Now that is rather unexpected. Indeed, given our last conversation. And the one before that and the one before and on and on."
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"What was it that you did in the wine cellar, Thialle? I really must know."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Did in the wine cellar? I`ve not stepped foot in the wine cellar since the first day I arrived in your Household."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Where are my rings, Lapitia? In predictable, unsurprising fashion they were taken from me during incarceration - and in no small hurry either."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"And by `no small hurry` I do mean conveniently quickly. Who`s profitting from this outrage?"
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"You really do disappoint me. A simple, unembroidered denial is singularly unentertaining. If you were going to lie you might have at least invented some fanciful story."
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"You... your rings? The family ring for example?"
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"You`ve suddenly become predictable again. Let me make something very clear.."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"I swear upon the noble blood in my veins, upon my very loins even, that I did nothing in the cellar."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"As to my rings. Oh, let`s see. The family ring, the other silver band I owned. Why, even my Scorpion academy ring. What vile band of imps took even that, pray tell?"
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"So much for your ... what was it you called it? Your telepathic oath? There are witnesses that say otherwise as to your actions in the cellar."
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"You went to the Tor academy?"
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Just like there are witnesses that I was dead?"
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"Thialle, I am among those who witnessed your dead corpse lying on the upstairs landing."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"It should be appallingly evident by now that some .. thing .. has caused a vile raucous in your Household. A thing posing as me, evidently."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Have you ever heard of the Borsail quarantine practices? Rest assured, if there were magick in me, I`d have been cleansed from my family long, long ago."
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"Well, you have no doubt employed some without such quarantine."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"And you, my Lady, are no doubt making rash assumptions."
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"I am going into the cellar now. Most dreadfully curious."
[Lapitia has by this time moved to the entry to the wine cellar.]Kitchen [SWD]
Large but simple, this kitchen appears to have been designed to allow
large quantities of food to be easily prepared. Large brick ovens for
preparing cooked meals are set into the north wall while counters, shelves
and cabinets are set into all of the other walls. The room smells strongly
of smoke.
A small wooden door is set in the south wall, and another in the west
wall, both between counters and shelves.
A wide-mouthed cistern, carved of stone, rests here.
The short, plump purple-braided woman is here, overseeing a pack of Kadian cooks.A wooden trapdoor has been mounted in one corner.
The trapdoor is closed.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Why don`t you go to the first floor instead?"
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"*ripples of amusement* I am on the first floor right now. Naturally, one must pass along the first floor in order to get to the cellar."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Unless you`ll run round and cavort wildly like a barakhan with its head lopped off at the sight of me."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Not the ground floor, the first floor. Upstairs."
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"You... you are .. there?"
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Have you not heard? I was just escorted by a retinue of servants and a Whatsit. Now I reside in a new prison. House Fale."
You feel a wave of panic.
You think:
"WHAT!?!"
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"That... that is ridiculous! Ridiculous! What do you hope to accomplish with such ... such vain attempts at trickery? I was just there!"
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Lapitia, stop being frantic. I was in the bathroom only moments ago. Fine, meet me there then."
You exclaim, in sirihish:
"No!"
Feeling hysteria choking your throat, you think:
"What am ... what am I going to do?"
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Seriously. This is becoming really rather boring, Lapitia."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"I haven`t even got access to wine! How utterly un-noble."
Sinking onto the bottom step, you sit down.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman`s hands clench and unclench fitfully.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"~frazzled by impatience~ Fine, whatever."
You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
You think:
"He is attempting to torment me. It cannot be true."
You dissolve the psychic link.
You are unable to reach their mind.
You exclaim, in sirihish:
"Someone... someone must know. Damn it!"
You exclaim, in sirihish:
"Damn him!"
You contact the sturdy, midnight-haired woman with the Way.
You send a telepathic message to the sturdy, midnight-haired woman:
"Markie... there you are. Where ... where are you?"A foreign presence contacts your mind.
A foreign presence contacts your mind.
The sturdy, midnight-haired woman sends you a telepathic message:
"Currently in the Traders, my lady. I was... hoping to catch Lord Fale."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Are you going to meet me or not? You do know you can ask any sycophant of the House if I was brought in."
You send a telepathic message to the sturdy, midnight-haired woman:
"Have you... have you seen any parties, any groups of people moving toward the estate?"
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"There is no food on this side of the mansion and the servants aren`t particularly eager to bring me any, besides."
You dissolve the psychic link.
You suffer from use of the Way.
You contact the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man with the Way.
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"Where? Where are you?"
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"The ground floor, I told you! I went to the bathing chambers."
The sturdy, midnight-haired woman sends you a telepathic message:
"No, my lady, it`s storming pretty bad."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Do be a kind wife and bring some food, some wine. I`m on the verge of wilting, literaly, to death."
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"There now. I have caught you in ... in your foolish prevarications. What have you been doing all this time in the bathing chambers?"
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Waiting for you, like I said."
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"What was said when you were released?"
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Not a word. Doubtless they intend to execute me still but have granted me the imprisonment due to one of my station."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Must we converse telepathically, Lapitia?"
You suffer from use of the Way.
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"No. I shall come then. Perhaps you would care for a few of the treats still left over from the party?"
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"I`m in no mood to beg for specifics. A meal will suffice."
You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
Colour slowly seeps back into the plump, prismatic-haired woman`s face.
A foreign presence contacts your mind.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Lapitia."
The plump, prismatic-haired woman darts from the room.
You contact the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man with the Way.
You think:
"Like he knew...like he knew I was...
Continue Reading...Lapitia and Thialle: Marital Bliss? (Part II) by Medena
Added on Nov 30, 2008Thialle claims to be starving after his sojourn in the dungeons and so Lapitia gets a tray of food prepared for him and, accompanied by her bodyguard, takes it to him in the locked, private wing of the Fale mansion.
You lock the door with a key of faceted amethyst glass. - *click*
You say, in sirihish:
"This way, Chaiten."A Small Purple Tiled Bathing Chamber [N]
Small pieces of purple tile, spotted with green, have been laid together
to cover the floor and walls of this room. A tiny windowed alcove has been
set into the west wall, allowing a small stream of light to filter in. A
circular-shaped bathing tub has been set in the room`s center, standing
about two cords high, with a jozhal-mouthed faucet hanging into the tub.
The room slopes downward a bit where it meets up with the tub, and a small
hole is beneath the tub, acting as a drain for water to run down into it.
A couple of racks filled with soaps, perfumes and towels have been hung
on the walls, and a smaller door stands on the north wall, leading out into
a hallway.
A green stone incense burner has been set here.
An unlit candle, striped in vivid purple and green, is here.
The shapely, brunette young woman is here, drying down the floor.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man is sitting on a circular-shaped green stone bathing tub.
Standing well back at the doorway, you look down at the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man.
Unfolding his leg as he sits upon the edge of a newly filled bathtub, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man looks up at you.
A slender, purple and green clad servant slips near the open door from the outside for a moment, putting something down, before making a rapid departure.
Her lips pressing upward into a semblance of a smile, voice rich and throaty, you say to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"Well. You do look... well."
Motionless atop his perch, equipped with an expressionless visage, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"Mm, so good of you to notice, my Lady."
Flicking a finger toward the shapely, brunette young woman, you say to the green-haired, green tattooed man, in sirihish:
"Give the slave the tray I personally had prepared."
The green-haired, green tattooed man dips a slow nod to you, keeping himself alertly positioned between you and the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man as he holds out his large tray.
The green-haired, green tattooed man gives his large tray to the shapely, brunette young woman.
Affecting innocent posture with a short shrug, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"Well, one never can be too certain, can they? Uhatu - test my food for poison."
The shapely, brunette young woman compliantly slices apart a portion of food from the plate at random and consumes slowly.
The shapely, brunette young woman eats a portion of her grilled, spicy carru steak.
A genuine sound of amusement bubbles up from the plump, prismatic-haired woman`s magenta lips.
Bowing low as she proffers the food, the shapely, brunette young woman gives her large tray to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man.
Draping an arm over the nearby towel rack, leaning back against the doorframe, you ask the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"Now why would I bother having you poisoned if you are to be executed, anyway?"
Countenance as bleak as granite, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man promptly delves into the meal seated in his lap.
Through mouthfuls of hurriedly downed food, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"I said most likely - and I wasn`t accusing you of anything, my Lady."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man eats his small portion of a plate of tender ribs smothered in honey and kalan sauce.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man eats a portion of his ball of soft white cheese.
With a throaty chuckle as she watches him eat, you say to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"You certainly do seem to have a healthy appetite."
Her lips quirking upward, a trace of laughter dotting her words, you say to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"Though, I must say, you do look quite a bit ... healthier than the last time I saw you."
Ravenously lapping his fingers clean, not bothering to make eye contact, absorbed in his meal, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"Try enduring a week in an unlit cell."
Icily landing his gaze up at you, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man asks you, in sirihish:
"My, you suddenly seem rather unafraid of me being .. whatever it is I`m accused of being. Why the sudden change of heart, my Lady?"
Still leaning against the doorframe in an elaborately casual pose, you ask the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"So, have they said for what crime you are to be executed?"
Swiftly rising from his perch, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"I`ve had enough of this talk."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man stands up from a circular-shaped green stone bathing tub.
Edgy, a short, tow-headed boy creeps into the room, then rushes towards a spiral-carved green stone incense burner with a small smoking lump.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman quickly untangles her arm from a hanging accessories rack and stands erect.
A puff of smoke issues forth from a spiral-carved green stone incense burner.
Racing, the small, tow-headed Fale boy races out into the hall, shrieking.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman makes an unobtrusive signal with two fingers toward the green-haired, green tattooed man.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man observes the doorway in which you stand, gauging the remaining space left.
The green-haired, green tattooed man draws a half-step nearer to you.
Eyebrows upraised, you ask the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"Whatever are you staring at?"
The plump, prismatic-haired woman casts a glance over her shoulder toward the hallway.
Left hand held aloft, cradling his large tray, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"I`m wondering if you`re going to let me pass, or if you`ve more insults to assail me with."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"Because if you`re quite finished, I think I`ll go seek more congenial company."
A puff of smoke issues forth from a spiral-carved green stone incense burner.
Tossing her head back to let a tinkling laugh spill forth, you say to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"You are free to pass. Please do."
Clicking fingers, you say to the green-haired, green tattooed man, in sirihish:
"Come, Thialle is daunted by our presence."Small Hallway [NESW]
This narrow hallway stretches to the north and south, its floor and
walls constructed of sturdy agafari wood. The solid wood has been polished
to a lustrous glow. A purple glass lamp hangs from the western wall beside
a doorframe which shows signs of having been repaired. The floor seems to
have been polished, although a few scuff marks are evident, along with a
long skid that goes all the way up and down the hall. South of here, a
simple bathing chamber can be seen, and northward is a flight of stairs.
Lain side by side near the southern door are curly-toed embroidered slippers.
A foreign presence contacts your mind.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"~condescendingly~ Predictable."You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man has arrived from the south.
The shapely, brunette young woman has arrived from the south.
Stabbing a finger in the air towards curly-toed embroidered slippers, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man asks the shapely, brunette young woman, in sirihish:
"Uhatu, are those mine?"
Bobbing a rapid nod, staring vacantly at the slippers, the shapely, brunette young woman says, in sirihish:
"Yes, master, if you wish them."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to the shapely, brunette young woman, in sirihish:
"Fine, whatever. It isn`t as though I own anything anymore anyway. Having been robbed by a band of homonculi."
Wafting his naked hand through the air, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to the shapely, brunette young woman, in sirihish:
"Bring them to me."
Returning to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, the shapely, brunette young woman kneels and brings up a slipper, cupped in her hand.
Laughter spraying out, you say to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"A band of what? What a lovely command of words you have. I have always admired that in you."
With a slight huff, the shapely, brunette young woman says, in sirihish:
"An advantage of education."
The shapely, brunette young woman looks up at the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man`s face, eyes wide and hopeful.
Blinking dully at you, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"At least you`ve steered away from being predictable, my Lady."
Though her brow crinkles, the plump, prismatic-haired woman`s expression remains unperturbed, a flicker of amusement in her slate-grey eyes.
Blinking with exaggerated surprise, you ask the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"Oh? How so?"
Contriving a fragile smile aimed upon her, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to the shapely, brunette young woman, in sirihish:
"Quite right, my belonging, my pet."
The shapely, brunette young woman lets a smile of warmth cross her vacant face.
Lazing his shoulders in ascent, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"Because I didn`t expect you to say something like that, naturally. Certainly not at this moment."
Lifting one shoulder with a silky slither, you say to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"I have never been daunted about commenting on that which I admire."
Grasping the proffered slippers with one hand yet observing you, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"Nevertheless, I didn`t see that one coming."
The shapely, brunette young woman twitches suddenly then shakes her head.
The shapely, brunette young woman gives her curly-toed embroidered slippers to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman`s eyes narrow as she focusses on the shapely, brunette young woman briefly.
You think:
"She behaves as if in some sort of thrall."
Twisting the pair round in his hand ponderously, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to the shapely, brunette young woman, in sirihish:
"My, these are better laundered than the ones I have on."
Stepping out of them and expecting the shapely, brunette young woman to retrieve them, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man stops using his pair of black silk slippers.
Securing each on, one at a time with a wriggle of naked toes, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man slips his feet into his curly-toed embroidered slippers.
The shapely, brunette young woman remains on one knee, head bowed before the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man.
Bleakly, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"Homonculus, the word was homonculus."
Rolling a chubby, manicured finger toward him, you ask the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"Oh, Thialle! Did you ... had you made any headway with contacting one of the Great Lords?"
The shapely, brunette young woman twitches suddenly then shakes her head.
The shapely, brunette young woman shakes slightly, smacking at the back of her neck before then pulling an ivory comb out of her belt.
The plump, prismatic-haired woman shoots the shapely, brunette young woman another quick, discreet glance.
Distractedly averting his gaze from where it had been, fixed on your hips, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man asks you, in sirihish:
"Hmm? To what end?"
The shapely, brunette young woman moves around behind the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, and begins to gently comb at the gnarled, damp silvery locks.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man inches his head to better accomodate the shapely, brunette young woman`s maneuvering of an ivory comb.
Beginning to sing ever-so-lightly, the shapely, brunette young woman continues to work the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man`s hair with tender, gentle strokes, working out the snarls.
Pressing her lips forward, an exasperated hiss of breath sounding, before quickly repressed, you say to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"Why about the emerald, of course."
The shapely, brunette young woman shakes her foot suddenly.
Cocking his head sideways suggestively, streams of hair drawn through the teeth of her comb, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"In a manner of speaking, I did."
The shapely, brunette young woman stomps briefly downward, her sound muffled by the carpeting as she continues to work the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man`s hair.
Spoken over his right shoulder, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man asks the shapely, brunette young woman, in sirihish:
"You`re still.. itchy, aren`t you?"
Looking frightened, the shapely, brunette young woman exclaims, in sirihish:
"It`s not my fault! It`s this terrible place, master!"
Turning further to address her in coaxing, sweet tones, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to the shapely, brunette young woman, in sirihish:
"I know, my pet. I know. I had terrible itches -- no, downright painful ones, right before I was incarcerated."
Chuckling quietly, her accustomed smile plumping at her cheeks, you say to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"And please do tell me of the manner? And do summon forth some deliciously eloquent words to describe its manner."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to the shapely, brunette young woman, in sirihish:
"Middle Nobles were never very good at quarantining out pests and vermin from their estates."
Slapping one thigh agitatedly with her hand, her smile growing taut, you ask the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"Thialle, the manner of speaking?"
As she continues to groom the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, the shapely, brunette young woman says, in sirihish:
"The Senior Lady once said to me that Fale is wonderful because Fale lets all the proper born and loyal houses know precisely how to not act, master."
Returning his focus of coal-dark orbs upon you, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man asks you, in sirihish:
"Oh, the emerald was it?"
With a backwards swat of his hand behind him, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to the shapely, brunette young woman, in sirihish:
"Hush, Uhatu."
The shapely, brunette young woman melodramatically ducks the back-swatted hand, and continues to groom at the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man`s hair, resuming her humming.
Tittering softly, her gaze shooting past him to the shapely, brunette young woman, you say to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"Do you spend time tutoring her in things to pop out with at odd moments? Some sort of signal you give to let her know which statement? How very clever of you."
Shrugging as he towers before her, undergoing her grooming, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"Sometimes I do indeed puppeteer her every reply to enhance my own words. As fate would have it, she`s acting of her own accord right now."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to the shapely, brunette young woman, in sirihish:
"Uhatu, find Lapitia`s mind."
A foreign presence contacts your mind.
The shapely, brunette young woman nods towards the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man.
Frowning at him, you ask the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"What is your game?"
Canting his head leftward with an expansive spill of hair, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"Oh come, it isn`t as though I pretend to know yours, Lapitia."
The shapely, brunette young woman peeks briefly out from behind the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, continuing to groom.
Strolling over to the staircase, placing a hand on the large knob at the end of the balustrade, you ask the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"Well, I suppose it matters not what -your- game is, does it? Since I seem to hold all the cards, as it were?"
The shapely, brunette young woman sends you a telepathic message:
"*a mental projection of pure animalistic lust and a satisfaction of being. A sensation of being bent forward and used carnally by the silver-haired man standing in front of her*"
Twin moles elevating as he shifts his eyebrows queryingly, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man asks you, in sirihish:
"You do?"
Her nose crinkling delicately, you say to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"How disgusting."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man asks you, in sirihish:
"How is that question disgusting?"
Eagerly downing as much as his mouth can accomodate in one gulp, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man drinks water from his purple-tinted goblet.
Flicking her hand up from the balustrade, turning on a booted heel, you say to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man, in sirihish:
"You have gone too far."
Clicking fingers to one side, the plump, prismatic-haired woman strides down the hallway.
Wetting his lips clean, the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man says to you, in sirihish:
"I don`t understand."
[Lapitia leaves Thialle in the hallway and goes for the main part of the mansion.]
You hear a man`s voice shout from the south in sirihish:
"Lapitia, wait!"
You search through an etched, amethyst key-ring, looking for the key.
You unlock the door with a key of faceted amethyst glass. - *click*
You lock the door with a key of faceted amethyst glass. - *click*
****
A foreign presence contacts your mind.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Lord Templar Samos was suspiciously curious at why you might be interested. I had ensured him it was only due to its colour."
Snapping out her words through clenched lips, you say to the green-haired, green tattooed man, in sirihish:
"Instruct all the Warwhatsits, indeed, all the staff to be wary when they open any of the doors into the private wing."
You contact the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man with the Way.
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"I had not known that Lord Samos had been elevated to the position of Great Lord. I really must send him my congratulations, along with a nice gift."You dissolve the psychic link.
You build a psychic barrier around your mind.
You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
You think:
"How truly disgusting an image that was."
You think:
"I feel quite ill now."
[She gets some food to settle her stomach and takes it out to the garden.]
****
Your psychic barrier is crushed!
A foreign presence contacts your mind.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"You didn`t think I actually knew any Reds personally? Of course I inquired through him."
You contact the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man with the Way.
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"You are so versed in satisfying me one moment, then turning me despondant and crestfallen the next, Lapitia."
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"Ceylara was personally acquainted with many."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Well as fate would have it, my name is not Ceylara."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Thank Tektolnes!"
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"Please do have your nasty little toy withdraw her mind from mine."
You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"I am still nauseated by the lingering image."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"She really is acting of her own accord, my Lady Wife. Would you like me to have her punished?"
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"Yes."
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Fine. Now, might I inveigle you to an uninterupted conversation?"
The plump, prismatic-haired woman takes up a wooden spoon from the plate on her lap and then attacks your stuffed ginka fruit.
Jabbing up an overflowing spoonful, you eat part of your stuffed ginka fruit.
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"To what end, Thialle?"
The chiseled, mercurial-tressed man sends you a telepathic message:
"Lapitia, honestly."
You send a telepathic message to the chiseled, mercurial-tressed man:
"I shall be very busy for the next while giving instructions for the lovely, intimate meal with Lord Samos that has been postponed too many times now."
You dissolve the psychic link.
You build a psychic barrier around your mind.
You lock the door with a key of faceted amethyst glass. - *click*
You say, in sirihish:
"This way, Chaiten."A Small Purple Tiled Bathing Chamber [N]
Small pieces of purple tile, spotted with green, have been laid together
to cover the floor and walls of this room. A tiny windowed alcove...
Continue Reading...The Legendary "War of the Hairs" by Djamel
Added on Nov 30, 2008An Elkinhym bard lays out an elaborate performance, characteristic of his Circle's forte, ending up in mixed reactions and some words of advice to live by!
This extraordinarily short figure seems as if someone might have
physically compressed an average-sized human into half the size. Starting
from his accordian-like multiple-folded, dusky skin, this man looks like a
child dressed as an adult. His stunted body appears wider than normal, and
his wide-paced stance adds to this effect. His hands and legs are stocky,
and the fingers are stubby little appendages, which appear incapable of
bending, on first glance. A noticeable bulge is visible in the region of
his pelvis and his butt juts out excessively in proportion to his body, as
if more fat was squeezed into that particular area. His head sits atop his
short frame, connected by a thick neck. His facial features appear as if
they are pressed against a glass pane - puffed out cheeks and a sort of a
permanent smile plastered on his partially-open mouth. A thick, felt-like
five-'o'-clock beard covers his face, ending at the temples, contrasting his
bald-shaven and polished scalp. His dark skin is covered with soft, black
hair, engulfing his arms and a little of his hands, and also evident on the
exposed part of his shoulders and neck.
The swarthy, hairy midget is in excellent condition.<worn on head> a crimson, black-trimmed fez with a silver-dyed tassel
<worn across back> a bone-studded backpack
<worn on torso> a padded, numut-adorned black linen vest
<worn on arms> a pair of voluminous, ivory silk sleeves
<worn around wrist> a studded bone bracer
<worn around wrist> a studded bone bracer
<worn on hands> a pair of chitin-plated leather gloves
<primary hand> a dark-oiled, jade-headed cane
<secondary hand> a skull-topped baton
<forearms> a tattoo of three orange triangles
<worn as belt> an ebony pouched belt
<worn about waist> a tough, grey chitin codpiece
<worn on legs> a pair of vivid orange tights
<worn on feet> a pair of turned-toe, ebony silk shoesAt your table, you say in sirihish, wagging one finger towards the jutting-chinned youth:
"You know, if we get a couple of more patrons at the bar, I'll tell you the secret story....of the War of the Hairs....."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the jutting-chinned youth says in southern-accented sirihish, rubbing his hands:
"Ahh, yes."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the jutting-chinned youth says in southern-accented sirihish, to you:
"Tell it now, my friend!"
At your table, you say in sirihish, turning around and pointing a finger at the ropy, grey-skinned man:
"Well, Gull here will have to participate as well...."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The blond half-elf has arrived from the south.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The blond half-elf sits down at a black-painted bar.
The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf yawns as he sits back in his seat.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The jutting-chinned youth gives a leather spice pouch to the ropy, grey-skinned man.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The wiry, stony-eyed man has arrived from above.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf looks up at the wiry, stony-eyed man.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>l
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 wiry, stony-eyed man is standing here.
The blond half-elf is sitting at a black-painted bar.
The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf is sitting at an intimate, dimly lit table.
The broad-shouldered, bulky man is here, roaming around.
The jutting-chinned youth is sitting at a black-painted bar.
The ropy, grey-skinned man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
A human Tuluki soldier is here, patrolling.
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.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>The swarthy, hairy midget nods once towards the blond half-elf.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The ropy, grey-skinned man shrugs.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The wiry, stony-eyed man stumbles down the stairs, holding his head as he makes for a black-painted bar.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The wiry, stony-eyed man sits down at a black-painted bar.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The tiny, copper-skinned, auburn-haired woman has arrived from the north.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>At your table, you say in sirihish, towards the blond half-elf:
"Oy Kali, I was just about to tell these guys my famous, War of the Hairs story...."
At your table, you say in sirihish, looking at the wiry, stony-eyed man:
"I think you've heard it before, right Jarihd?"
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man has arrived from the south, brushing past a giant pillar of stone at the entrance.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man intently scans the area.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the blond half-elf says in northern-accented sirihish:
"Do I want to hear this?"
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the jutting-chinned youth says in southern-accented sirihish, a broad smile upon his lips:
"Tell it Ozymar! Quit stalling!"
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man looks over the crowds slowly, his fierce eyes sweeping the environs like a hawk does prey.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The ropy, grey-skinned man puts a leather spice pouch inside a bone-studded backpack.
The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf looks at the ropy, grey-skinned man.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>At your table, you say in sirihish, nodding:
"Alright, I think we have a good enough group to tell it now...."
Calling out, you say to the burly, sun-scorched man, in sirihish:
"Hey Adriean, come join us at the bar, I'm telling a secret story..."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>l
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 burly, sun-scorched man is standing here.
The tiny, copper-skinned, auburn-haired woman moves easily from table to table.
The wiry, stony-eyed man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
The blond half-elf is sitting at a black-painted bar.
The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf is sitting at an intimate, dimly lit table.
The jutting-chinned youth is sitting at a black-painted bar.
The ropy, grey-skinned man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
A human Tuluki soldier is here, patrolling.
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.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the blond half-elf says in northern-accented sirihish:
"This better be more cheerful then your bawdy tales"
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The jutting-chinned youth gestures invitingly to the burly, sun-scorched man.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf looks up at the burly, sun-scorched man.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
You are getting hungry.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the wiry, stony-eyed man says in northern-accented sirihish, shaking his head, his voice hoarse:
"Don't think I heard it, Ozymar. Do tell."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The slim, golden-haired woman has arrived from the east.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The ropy, grey-skinned man pushes off of a cushioned, black-painted barstool and rises to his feet.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>nod jarihd
You nod to him.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf gets a stiffly bristled armor brush from a fine pouched belt.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The ropy, grey-skinned man turns from the bar over to an intimate, dimly lit table.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf scrubs at a pair of scrub-camouflaged, sandcloth sleeves, cleaning it.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf puts a stiffly bristled armor brush inside a fine pouched belt.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The ropy, grey-skinned man notices the scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf and turns to a highly polished table.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The ropy, grey-skinned man sits down at a highly polished table.
At your table, you say in sirihish, rubbing his hands with glee:
"Alright folks, listen carefully, while I recount this secret....."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The slim, golden-haired woman walks west.
At your table, you say in sirihish, slapping his hands together once and then opening both his palms:
"Have you ever heard....of the War of the Hairs?"
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The jutting-chinned youth shakes his head.
With dramatic flair, the swarthy, hairy midget squints one eye comically, and peers at the faces at the bar.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the blond half-elf says in northern-accented sirihish:
"Was that the fashion craze for black hair?"
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The blond half-elf grins.
At your table, you say in sirihish, shaking his head and continuing:
"No no, tis much.....much deeper than that Kali....."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf pushes off of a high backed, cushioned chair and rises to his feet.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The blond half-elf chuckles.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The scarred, ashen-skinned half-elf walks south.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the blond half-elf says in northern-accented sirihish:
"I will refrain for further comment"
At your table, you say in sirihish, raising one finger:
"Today, I will demonstrate before you all, right here on this bar.....how a pair of hair, will fight......nay....will conduct war with each other."
At your table, you say in sirihish, pointing to the ropy, grey-skinned man and the jutting-chinned youth:
"Since Corvin and Gull are nearest to me, they will be the volunteers....."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The slim, golden-haired woman has arrived from the west.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The jutting-chinned youth exclaims to the ropy, grey-skinned man, in southern-accented sirihish:
"Come, gull!"
The ropy, grey-skinned man pushes off of a high backed, cushioned chair and rises to his feet.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>At your table, you say in sirihish, snapping his fingers:
"But....I still need the most important ingredients."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The ropy, grey-skinned man turns towards the oad.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The ropy, grey-skinned man stealthily moves south.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the jutting-chinned youth says in southern-accented sirihish, glancing south:
"What the..."
The swarthy, hairy midget looks a little dumbfounded.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>l
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 slim, golden-haired woman is here moving about the room.
The burly, sun-scorched man is standing here.
The wiry, stony-eyed man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
The blond half-elf is sitting at a black-painted bar.
The jutting-chinned youth is sitting at a black-painted bar.
A human Tuluki soldier is here, patrolling.
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.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man glances to a black-painted bar, grunting as he shakes his head dizzily.
At your table, you say in sirihish, shaking his head:
"What a strange man....."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the blond half-elf says in northern-accented sirihish:
"Don't try to include me.."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man walks over to a black-painted bar, taking a seat at the end of the long bar.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man sits down at a black-painted bar.
You ask the burly, sun-scorched man, in sirihish:
"Adriean, you going to join us then?"
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>You nod.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the blond half-elf says in northern-accented sirihish:
"I ain't getting hairy with no one.."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The jutting-chinned youth grins.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Alright then, I'll need a new set of volunteers, Corvin and Jarihd should suffice."
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"And now, the most important ingredients of this secret tale....."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the burly, sun-scorched man says in tribal-accented sirihish, as he sinks into the bar lazily:
"I'm here ain' I?"
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"I will need two hairs, of different colours."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>The swarthy, hairy midget turns to stare at the blond half-elf's blond hair.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the blond half-elf says in northern-accented sirihish:
"Not a chance"
At your table, the jutting-chinned youth says in southern-accented sirihish:
"Come now, Kali. It's only fun."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>At your table, you say in sirihish, extending one hand, with a mock look of pleading:
"Just a single strand Kali?"
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the blond half-elf says in northern-accented sirihish:
"I don't like this.."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The blond half-elf pushes off of a cushioned, black-painted barstool and rises to her feet.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The blond half-elf walks south.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man glances out to the road, sniggering.
At your table, you say in sirihish, spreading his palms in resignation, accompanied with laughter:
"Krath, folks are mighty nervous about a story."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>l
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 burly, sun-scorched man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
The wiry, stony-eyed man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
The jutting-chinned youth is sitting at a black-painted bar.
A human Tuluki soldier is here, patrolling.
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.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The wiry, stony-eyed man smirks, reaching up to pluck a strand of silky black hair from his head without a wince.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the jutting-chinned youth says in southern-accented sirihish, glaring south:
"Hmm...no fun."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the wiry, stony-eyed man says in northern-accented sirihish:
"My hairs are probably hung over, like I am."
At your table, you say in sirihish, nodding as he looks at the wiry, stony-eyed man:
"Alright we have one black hair...."
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Now we need one other color"
The swarthy, hairy midget looks at the jutting-chinned youth and then to the burly, sun-scorched man.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The jutting-chinned youth pushes off of a cushioned, black-painted barstool and rises to his feet.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The jutting-chinned youth walks up.
The swarthy, hairy midget looks disappointed and sighs, rolling his eyes.
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Damnit, now I'll have to wait until we have a couple of more people, to recount the tale."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the wiry, stony-eyed man says in northern-accented sirihish, laughing softly:
"People are strange, man. I'm all curious now, though."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>At your table, you say in sirihish, towards the wiry, stony-eyed man:
"I apologize for having you pluck out your hair in vain Jarihd."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man plucks a curly brown strand from his arm, passing it to you.
Through gritted teeth, the swarthy, hairy midget breathes in, nodding thoughtfully.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man grunts as he wipes at his arm, shaking his head.
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"ALright, I guess we can do this between the three of us....."
At your table, you say in sirihish, passing the hair back to the burly, sun-scorched man:
"Here Adriean, you hang on to that hair, while I set it up."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man holds up the ugly curly dark folicle, frowning.
At your table, you say in sirihish, raising one finger:
"THe two of you must promise to me, that you will not recount this tale to anyone....as it is one of my specialities."
At your table, you say in sirihish, towards the long-haired, middle-aged bartender:
"Some wine please Clint....."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the wiry, stony-eyed man says in northern-accented sirihish, chuckling:
"You have my promise."
The swarthy, hairy midget gives many coins to the long-haired, middle-aged bartender in exchange for a goblet of jaluar-wine.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the burly, sun-scorched man says in tribal-accented sirihish, snorting as he leans back into the bar with a grin:
"Fuck that. I'll tell whoever I want."
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Now, watch closely, as we get into the details..."
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"I'll spill the wine here, on the bar, and make a small puddle...."
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Each of you, will then, at my signal, slip in your hairs, from opposite sides."
At your table, you say in sirihish, snapping his fingers theatrically:
"You will then observe.....to your astonishment...."
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"THe hairs will first be attracted to each other, and meet each other in the center....."
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"And then, suddenly, they will repel each other, declaring war!"
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man watches you in sombre silence.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man frowns thoughtfully, scratching his head as he holds the hair in his fingers.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man frowns thoughtfully, scratching his head as he holds the hair in his fingers.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The wiry, stony-eyed man watches you, furrowing his brow curiously.
Mutely, the swarthy, hairy midget pours some wine from the goblet, then pausing, and then pouring some more, to add to the spill.
The swarthy, hairy midget nods once in satisfaction.
At your table, you say in sirihish, raising one finger each, on either side of the barstool:
"Alright gentlemen, when I give the signal, slip in your hairs."
At your table, you say in sirihish:
"Gather in closely, so that you may observe their motion...."
Nodding, the swarthy, hairy midget flips his fingers, signalling to the wiry, stony-eyed man and the burly, sun-scorched man.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The wiry, stony-eyed man holds his hand with his strand of hair ready, leaning in close to you and slipping it in at the signal.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man moves in close to you, hunkering over.
At your table, you say in sirihish, beckoning with his hands:
"Come close now, peer into the puddle so you can observe the hairs...."
At your table, you say in sirihish, in an excited shrill:
"Look....look.....they float towards each other.....LOOK...."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man watches his hair and the wiry, stony-eyed man's hair float in the wine.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
Frowning as he watches, the burly, sun-scorched man says, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"What the.."
The swarthy, hairy midget leans backwards slightly, allowing the wiry, stony-eyed man and the burly, sun-scorched man to observe closely.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The very tall male wearing a dusty thin, grey-sandcloth facewrap has arrived from the south.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The tall figure in a hooded, brown military aba has arrived from the south.
At your table, you say in sirihish, with dramatic flare:
"And now, in just a moment, the War will begin!"
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The tall figure in a hooded, brown military aba sits down at a long, white painted table.
As both the wiry, stony-eyed man and the burly, sun-scorched man lean in over the puddle, the swarthy, hairy midget slaps the wine with an open palm, lettingthe wine splash all over their faces.
The swarthy, hairy midget lets our a roar of laughter as the wine drenches the wiry, stony-eyed man's and the burly, sun-scorched man faces.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
A deep frown settles on the burly, sun-scorched man's face as wine sluices down his face and drips onto the bar.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The wiry, stony-eyed man licks his lips, trying to catch as much wine as possible as he laughs.
At your table, you say in sirihish, licking his lip with a sly, mirthful grin:
"And that my friends....is the famous, War of the Hairs!"
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
Lunging forward and careening into a barmaid, the burly, sun-scorched man exclaims, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"You bastard!"
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
Grinning, the wiry, stony-eyed man says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
"You had me all the way, you short little bastard. That was brilliant."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man knocks over a stool and a set of drinks, collapsing over himself clumsily and crashing to the floor.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>Patting both the wiry, stony-eyed man's and the burly, sun-scorched man's backs playfully, the swarthy, hairymidget nods, still laughing.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
Idly, the tall figure in a hooded, brown military aba asks, in northern-accented sirihish:
"so where did the hair end up?"
You say to the burly, sun-scorched man, in sirihish:
"Allow me to make amends, and buy the two of you a drink."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The very tall male wearing a dusty thin, grey-sandcloth facewrap runs up.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>l
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 tall figure in a hooded, brown military aba is sitting at a long, white painted table.
The burly, sun-scorched man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
The wiry, stony-eyed man is sitting at a black-painted bar.
A human Tuluki soldier is here, patrolling.
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.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man brushes some dust off his knees, cursing up at the barmaid.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
As he mops his face, the burly, sun-scorched man says, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"You played a trick..I think a -few- drinks will do to make amends.."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man pushes off of a cushioned, black-painted barstool and rises to his feet.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The burly, sun-scorched man cleans his face and arm, glaring over at you.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The wiry, stony-eyed man wipes his face with the sleeve of his cloak, still chuckling.
You say, in sirihish:
"Krath mate, you dune folks are mighty uppity....relax and sit back down."
Ushering the burly, sun-scorched man's back to the bar, you say, in sirihish:
"It was but a joke...."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
Waving a hand as he stalks off, the burly, sun-scorched man says to you, in tribal-accented sirihish:
"Bah. We cut throat over jokes."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
Pushing a few patrons from his path, the burly, sun-scorched man walks south.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The tall figure in a hooded, brown military aba pushes off of a carved, wooden chair and rises to her feet.
At your table, you say in sirihish, shaking his head:
"What a surly bunch......"
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The tall figure in a hooded, brown military aba smiles impishly.
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
At your table, the wiry, stony-eyed man says in northern-accented sirihish, snickering:
"You should keep that one for folks with good humor, Ozymar."
At your table, you say in sirihish, nodding at the wiry, stony-eyed man:
"I swear to Utep, thats the first time I've had that reaction...."
111/111H 114/114S 110/119M:walking:sitting>
The tall figure in a hooded, brown military aba says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Best be careful.. a mime is a terrible thing to waste.."
The swarthy, hairy midget barks out a loud laugh!
This extraordinarily short figure seems as if someone might have
physically compressed an average-sized human into half the size. Starting
from his accordian-like multiple-folded, dusky skin, this man looks like a
child dressed as an adult. His stunted body appears wider than normal, and
his...
Continue Reading...Songs of the Ghost of Gol Krathu by Djamel
Added on Nov 30, 2008An undertuluki "patron" has hired a pair of Poet's Circle bards, to formulate songs about what can only be called an "urban legend" of Tuluk. The bards gather to give him a private performance of their creations.
A Secluded Alcove [S]
Separated from the main room by a curtain of beaded fringe, this booth
provides a small measure of privacy. The haze of sweet spice smoke mixed
with the exotic seasonings of the food combine in an aroma that is almost
intoxicating by itself. Benches made of thickly stuffed, dun-colored tandu
leather line each side of this booth and a sturdy table made of thick cylini
planks stands between them. The walls behind the benches are covered with a
worn sandcloth tapestry depicting a raging sandstorm on one side and a wagon
caravan on the other. Hanging from the wall in between is the bleached
skull of some large grasslands creature.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf is standing here.
The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman is standing here.The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf moves to a baobab booth.
The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman closes the curtain.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf sits on a baobab booth, plopping down.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf asks, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Aright... which one of ya wanna go first?"The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman looks down at you.
Grinning, you ask, in sirihish:
"Ladies first?"The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf nods.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf shifts his attention to the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman.
Shrugging her shoulders, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman says, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Why not."The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman opens a battered, hard-shelled leather instrument case.
The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman gets a simple gith-skull drum from a battered, hard-shelled leather instrument case.
The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman closes a battered, hard-shelled leather instrument case.
The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman holds a simple gith-skull drum.
The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman says, in northern-accented sirihish:
"At first I came up with something rather elaborate, then I realized that most people probably wouldn't understand the allusions, and it would be more difficult to remember."The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman says, in northern-accented sirihish:
"And then I scrapped that in favor of something a little more direct and simple."The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf rests both his hands on the head of his bone-pommeled agafari cane, centering it in front of himself as he nods.
The swarthy, hairy midget moves away from the center of the alcove, making space for the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman.
Thumping her fingers against the taut hide covering her simple gith-skull drum, producing a light, catchy rhythm, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman sings, in northern-accented sirihish:
"It's guaranteed you'll never meet...Someone else quite as discrete..."Punctuating her words periodically with a slightly harder strike against her simple gith-skull drum's skin, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman sings, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Sure and true of foot is he... He does not want, you will not see..."The swarthy, hairy midget taps his foot, following the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman's tune, without interfering in the performance.
Slapping her palm flatly against her simple gith-skull drum to produce a deeper sound, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman sings, in northern-accented sirihish:
"When business comes, and you're in need... Just seek the Ghost and then take heed..."Thumping the tips of her fingers lightly against her simple gith-skull drum again, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman sings, in northern-accented sirihish:
"He'll help you for a modest fee...And fit your needs right to a tee..."The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf quietly bobs his head to the beat as he watches the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman play.
Tapping out a more staccato rhythm against her simple gith-skull drum, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman sings, in northern-accented sirihish:
"His Dead can also service you...He is the Ghost of Gol Krathu..."her Simple gith-skull drum thudding dully as she slaps her open palm against it, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman sings, in northern-accented sirihish:
"When business comes, and you're in need...Just seek the Ghost, and then take heed."Resting her hand against her simple gith-skull drum's skin to silence it, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman bows her head.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf smiles as his hands clap together very slowly.
The swarthy, hairy midget waits for the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf to react and then joins in the clapping.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says to the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Short, to the point."The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman opens a battered, hard-shelled leather instrument case.
The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman puts a simple gith-skull drum inside a battered, hard-shelled leather instrument case.
The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman closes a battered, hard-shelled leather instrument case.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf nods a few times, shifting his gaze to you.
The swarthy, hairy midget nods silently, moving into the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman's spot.
The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman steps aside.
With a wide grin, the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says to you, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Yer on shorty."Clearing his throat, you exclaim, in sirihish:
"Pleasure!"The swarthy, hairy midget breathes in, closing his eyes for a moment.
In a soft, hiss of a tone, expanding his chest as he takes in a breath, you say, in sirihish:
"Dark as deepest shade of night,"You say, in sirihish:
"His very presence met with fright,"Raising a finger, you say, in sirihish:
"Stalking those who carry a light,"Smiling, you exclaim, in sirihish:
"Never known to loose a fight!"Shaking his head, you say, in sirihish:
"People dont know when he's near,"You say, in sirihish:
"Always thinking of him with fear,"You say, in sirihish:
"Killing ones that we hold dear,"You say, in sirihish:
"Never has his eyes felt tear."In a hushed tone now, you say, in sirihish:
"Assassin, whose name is lost,"You say, in sirihish:
"His love for the "game" never exhaust,"You say, in sirihish:
"For the thrill-of-the-kill, caring most,"The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf nods slowly as he regards you.
With narrowed, menacing eyes, chanting now, you say, in sirihish:
"Emotionless, fallen Ghost."You say, in sirihish:
"The Ghost of Gol Krathu is his name,"You say, in sirihish:
"And his band following in his fame,"You say, in sirihish:
"The Dead calling out in his name,"You say, in sirihish:
"Your life, death? Never will be the same."In a chanting tone now singing the chorus, you sing, in sirihish:
"Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide,"You sing, in sirihish:
"The Ghost and his Dead have never been denied,"You sing, in sirihish:
"Whether in Tuluk topside or underside,"Bowing as he spreads his ends, you sing, in sirihish:
"Your only way out is to be with him allied!"The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf grins, chuckling mildly to himself.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf pinches his chin, glancing at the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman thoughtfully.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf shifts his gaze from the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman back to you.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Hmm... both are real good."The swarthy, hairy midget smirks at the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says, in northern-accented sirihish:
"I liked both."Glancing at the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman, the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says, in northern-accented sirihish:
"But I liked your's just a little bit more."Hopping down, the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf stands up from a baobab booth.
Her dark brows rising, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman says to the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Oh... Thank you."The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf exclaims, in northern-accented sirihish:
"But!"The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says, in northern-accented sirihish:
"I think I'm gunna use both songs."Chuckling, you exclaim to the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf, in sirihish:
"Ahhhh, here's the But!"The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf asks, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Either of you willing to perform it?"Looking to you, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman says, in northern-accented sirihish:
"A very big But indeed."The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says, in northern-accented sirihish:
"I'll pay for each performance."The swarthy, hairy midget laughs heartily, twisting around to glance down at his butt.
The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman nods.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf reaches under his his hooded, sandy-brown dustcloak, pulling two large pouches from his ebony pouched belt.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf gives some coins to the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman.
The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman says to the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Thank you."Accepting the pouch, you say to the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf, in sirihish:
"Generous of you mate, I appreciate it."The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says to the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman, in northern-accented sirihish:
"That's including the original fee, I don't think I paid you fer that."Hefting the pouch in his hand, you ask the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf, in sirihish:
"What do you propose to pay for live performances Driggs?"With a shake of your head, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman says to the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf, in northern-accented sirihish:
"No, I just assumed you were going to give it at once."The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman opens a bone-framed, double strapped coin belt.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says, in northern-accented sirihish:
"I got some business, we'll talk about preformaces later when I get some things figured out."The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman puts a pile of allanaki coins inside a bone-framed, double strapped coin belt.
The swarthy, hairy midget nods and raises your dark-oiled, jade-headed cane, touching it to his forehead.The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says to the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Ok, you don't have to perform it. Just asking ya if you're willing to perform it"The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says to the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman, in northern-accented sirihish:
"I'll take that as a no."The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman says to the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf, in northern-accented sirihish:
"I can arrange for it to be sung in public occasionally by others as well."The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says to the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Oh? that sounds excellent."A smile touching her lips, the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman says to the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf, in northern-accented sirihish:
"I've a few friends who love to do street performance."The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says to the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman, in northern-accented sirihish:
"Good, that'd work well."You say to the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf, in sirihish:
"And with both Tammani and me, and some other street performers all doing it, no one will trace it...."The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf says, in northern-accented sirihish:
"We'll talk about it later, I'm sure you two got things to go to and such, I won't keep ya."You say to the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf, in sirihish:
"Aye, till later then."The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf shrugs his stocky shoulders.
The svelte, loreshi-tressed woman says to the wrinkly, long-armed dwarf, in northern-accented sirihish:
"It has been a pleasure."The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf nods to you and the svelte, loreshi-tressed woman.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf moves to the curtain.
The wrinkly, long-armed dwarf walks south.
A Secluded Alcove [S]
Separated from the main room by a curtain of beaded fringe, this booth
provides a small measure of privacy. The haze of sweet spice smoke mixed
with the exotic seasonings of the food combine in an aroma that is almost
intoxicating by itself. Benches made of thickly...
Continue Reading...Legends of 'Nak: The Four Orders by Taven
Added on Nov 26, 2008Four Orders to serve His Will, four colors of the Robes. This is a legend or story a commoner might hear or speak about what the roles of His Templarate are, and explain their existence in ways mere commoners might understand.
There are four orders to serve the will of the Golden Tower, four orders
that enforce His will upon the sprawling sands of civilization; the realm
and city of Allanak. Four orders to hold His will:The Keepers of His Gifts. The Black Dragon spread it's wings across the
sky, enveloping the worthy. He Who Saved Us vanquished the defilers of His
Will, tearing from them the Gift they abused: Not only life, but existence
itself. The Templars of the White bequeath unto His City water, source of
all, the toll they take a reminder of the cost of His Gifts.The Speakers of His Voice. His Gloriousness, like the Golden Tower He resides in, is far above the puny affairs of His Citizens. Unending, He sees a year as but a
moment, a King's Age as a mere day. The Templars of the Blue are entrusted
the Judgment to speak with His voice on all matters. Their word is His
Will: Their word is Law and Truth.The Bearers of His Blood. In His City, citizens might first convey an
order by voice, and then enforce it with brutal and precise force. To
comprehend in small the orders who serve him, this example will serve. The
Great Templars of the Red are His Blood, and to them is given unimaginable
gifts, to obliterate any who try to defy or rise above the speakers of His
Voice.Those formed of His Shadow. His Shadow encompasses all. White are for
Gifts, Blue for the Voice, Red for the Blood. Those who are of His Shadow
don robes as black as the Dragon's very scales. The High Templar Lords of
the Black are unseen, unspoken. It is they who set the cast, the mold for
His City to follow in, as the Shadow of His Gloriousness wills.There are four orders to serve the will of the Golden Tower, four orders
that enforce His will upon the sprawling sands of civilization; the realm
and city of Allanak. Four orders to hold His will:The Keepers of His Gifts. The Black Dragon spread it's wings across the
sky, enveloping the...
Continue Reading...Light Dancer by Briar
Added on Oct 23, 2008There are two kinds of light - the glow that illuminates and the glare that obscures.
Still Unbroken by Briar
Added on Oct 23, 2008Run when you have to, fight when you must, rest when you can.
The Golden Kank, Part 2 by Tortall
Added on Oct 23, 2008The kank comes back, the very next day...
A Bedroom [W]
The woman wearing a purple and green tragedy mask looks around warily.
A golden kank trots up to you and giggles, waving an antennae.
You think:
"I hop..."
You say, in sirihish:
"You're going to get me killed."
A golden kank looks around warily and then giggles, clacking its pinchers.
A golden kank says, in sirihish, "No, you're going to get yourself killed. I'm just your...subconscious!
A golden kank giggles and trots around the room.
You exclaim, in sirihish:
"But I shouldn’t be seeing golden kanks that can talk!"
Frowning as she rubs her head, you say, in sirihish:
"I should probably not talk about it."
A golden kank stops trotting and clacks its pinchers, looking around.
A golden kank grins and looks over at you.
A golden kank says, in sirihish, "Well, you can't get rid of... yourself, can you?"
Sighing dramatically, you say, in sirihish:
"I suppose not."
Almost to herself, you say, in sirihish:
"Well, at least it's -gold-..."
You say, in sirihish:
"You need to be painted purple too. Then we'd match."
You think:
"But where to get paint..."
A golden kank giggles and trots to the bed, lying down on top of it.
A golden kank looks at you thoughtfully.
A golden kank says, in sirihish, "So...that Lord Pretarius is quite the fellow, isn't he?
A golden kank clacks its pinchers and giggles.
You say, in sirihish:
"Yes! He has all my stuff."
Pouting, you say, in sirihish:
"Be needs someone to teach him to be -nice-."
A golden kank nods and giggles.
A golden kank says, in sirihish, "Definitely lacking in the humor department, I'd say."
Her eyes lighting up, you say, in sirihish:
"Maybe -I- could do that! After all, a Fale is the best for that kind of job, wouldn't you say? Of course you would. I just said it, and since you're me..."
The tiny, gold-purple haired woman nods firmly.
A golden kank says, in sirihish, "You know what you need? A party. A great great party, wouldn't that be nifty?"
A golden kank emote nods and clacks its pinchers.
You exclaim, in sirihish:
"Yes! We need a -big- party!"
Thoughfully, you say, in sirihish:
"Although I don't think I can talk him into coming to the one I currently have planned."
A golden kank excitedly, says in sirihish, "Yes! The biggest party ever! You know… he has a big butt, Lord Pretarius does..."
A golden kank giggles and looks up thoughtfully.
Giggling, you exclaim, in sirihish:
"Lord Commander of the Butt!"
A golden kank says, in sirihish, "You know, you're more important than that old fuddy humorless big butted commander anyway!"
A golden kank emote clacks its pinchers and nods affirmatively.
A golden kank says, in sirihish, "You can throw a party this city will never forget, and get Fale in good favor, and everyone will love you and adore you!"
A golden kank jumps down from the bed and trots over to you.
You exclaim, in sirihish:
"Yes! And since -he- won't be there, he'll just look like a stick in the sand!"
A golden kank says, in sirihish, "Exactly! Now, you need to think of some really neat little things we can sell to everyone, and what foods to get, and...dances!"
A golden kank clacks its pinchers excitedly.
You say, in sirihish:
"Foods... Anything with -honey-! Those squashes are really good with honey..."
Making a face, you say, in sirihish:
"They taste -horrible- with out it."
A golden kank says, in sirihish, "You know, you could hire out that popular performing troupe to do a play or something one night of the festival!"
You say, in sirihish:
"Ohhh, yes! There's even a stage at the Barrel too! Perfect."
You say, in sirihish:
"I have such good ideas."
A golden kank says, in sirihish, "Oh, yes! Honey is the best... You should know... You are so smart!"
Nodding, you say, in sirihish:
"That's why I'm so important."
A golden kank clacks its pinchers and giggles.
A golden kank says, in sirihish, "Ok, so, you're the one to bring Fale to the glory it can be! Honey on everything! Boost morale and fun for all!"
A golden kank raises its antennae and waves it with a giggle.
Excidetly, you exclaim, in sirihish:
"Yes!"
A golden kank says, in sirihish, "Kojiro used to talk about some woman... Deihenia or something… maybe she could perform! I hear she's good!"
A golden kank trots around the room, slowly fizzling out of view.
You say, in sirihish:
"Deihenia? Hum... Never heard of her! But I shall... Find her."
.
The tiny, gold-purple haired woman looks around and shrugs.
You feel a slight tingling sensation in your head, which dissolves.
The tiny, gold-purple haired woman blinks at the purple-dreadlocked, dark-skinned woman and the green-haired, green tattooed man as they stare at you.
You ask, in sirihish:
"What? You've never talked to yourself before?"
The tiny, gold-purple haired woman humfs softly, moving to the door.
A Bedroom [W]
The woman wearing a purple and green tragedy mask looks around warily.
A golden kank trots up to you and giggles, waving an antennae.
You think:
"I hop..."
You say, in sirihish:
"You're going to get me killed."
A golden kank looks around warily...
Continue Reading...The Golden Kank, Part 1 by Tortall
Added on Oct 23, 2008Lady 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...
Continue Reading...Huntress in the wild by Amandagreathouse
Added on Oct 19, 2008A huntress on the sands.
Path of Vengence by Taven
Added on Oct 6, 2008A cross piercing a moon, and a scarred-over hand. Done in colored pencil.
