Original Submissions by Aruna of type 'Logs'

• 

  Lucky Charm
  Added on Oct 24, 2009

  A trio of gypsies conduct some business with a fellow traveler in the wagonyard of Luir's Outpost.

  ---

  
  You step out
  to...
  
  
   
  
  
   Luir's Wagon Yard [SW]
  
  
      This large tract of dry,
  cracked earth lies just to the northwest of
  
  
   the west gate of Luirs.  To the south, across Steel road, a stables
  is
  
  
   easily visble and westward, the inner
  walls of the outpost loom.  The
  hard
  
  
   packed soil here shows signs of recent
  wagon tracks, not yet worn into the
  
  
   deep ruts that time will surely provide
  and handlers and caravan members
  
  
   bustle around at all hours of the day
  and night.  
  
  
   A large, vividly painted wagon sits
  here, splashed with eyestartling colors.
  
  
   A desert-hued agafari wagon, drawn by
  inix, stands here.
  
  
   A small courier wagon hitched to four
  erdlus stands here.
  
  
   The short, dusky woman lounges against a
  wagon, ankles crossed.
  
  
   The slick-haired, rune-nailed man is
  standing here, looking tired.
  
  
   The hardy, midnight-curled woman stands
  here, beside a vividly painted wagon.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  braidlocked, turquoise-eyed woman deboards a vividly painted wagon, munching on
  your partially eaten honied, seed-encrusted wheat cake.
  
  
   
  
  
  You eat part
  of your partially eaten honied, seed-encrusted wheat cake.
  
  
  
  
  After a moment, watching him with a half-grin, the short, dusky woman says to
  the slick-haired, rune-nailed man, in sirihish:
  
  
        "We do,
  actually, have good-luck charms. Not so expensive."
  
  
   
  
  
  You begin
  speaking sirihish.
  
  
   
  
  
  A foreign
  presence contacts your mind.
  
  
   
  
  
  Moving to
  loiter near her, you ask the hardy, midnight-curled woman, in sirihish:
  
  
        "What's
  new, girl?"
  
  
   
  
  
  You eat part
  of your half eaten honied, seed-encrusted wheat cake.
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman sends you a telepathic message:
  
  
        "This
  gajo's fucking slimy. How you been?"
  
  
   
  
  
  Making a
  warding gesture, the slick-haired, rune-nailed man asks the short, dusky woman,
  in southern-accented sirihish:
  
  
        "Have
  heard stories of Muarki curses all my life in the silt.....you sure this' the
  real deal?"
  
  
   
  
  
  You sense a
  foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
  
  
   
  
  
  The red
  light of Jihae rises over the outpost's southern walls.
  
  
   
  
  
  Gulping
  audibly, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat, the slick-haired, rune-nailed
  man says to the short, dusky woman, in southern-accented sirihish:
  
  
        "Lemme see one, if you have an ankle
  charm...."
  
  
   
  
  
  Putting her
  hands to her chest, eyes widening in wounded hurt, the short, dusky woman says
  to the slick-haired, rune-nailed man, in sirihish:
  
  
        "Curses?
  Us? Never. We're bringers of laughs and luck. Always."
  
  
   
  
  The braidlocked, turquoise-eyed woman grins toward the short, dusky woman, and
  shoots a glance to the slick-haired, rune-nailed man.
  
  
   
  
  
  Chuckling,
  the short, dusky woman turns, grabbing a plank that leans against a vividly
  painted wagon on the way up the ramp.
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman enters a vividly painted wagon.
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
  Nodding at
  the ramp, the hardy, midnight-curled woman says to you, in sirihish:
  
  
        "Flushed a
  couple of goudra out from the scrub wit' Jisiu there, yesterday."
  
  
   
  
  
  Lifting her
  chin, to indicate the departing figure, you ask the slick-haired, rune-nailed
  man, in sirihish:
  
  
        "Yer
  talkin' to the best lucky charm ever there was. Eh?"
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman emerges from a vividly painted wagon.
  
  
   
  
  
  Licking her
  lips of crumbs, her eyes narrowing, you say to the hardy, midnight-curled
  woman, in sirihish:
  
  
        "Mmm. The
  things I miss. "
  
  
   
  
  
  Turning to
  peer directly into your eyes, the slick-haired, rune-nailed man says to you, in
  southern-accented sirihish:
  
  
        "You
  have.....exquisite eyes."
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man pinches his pair of splotchy purple sunslits up,
  continuing to look into your eyes.
  
  
   
  
  
  Looking
  toward the slick-haired, rune-nailed man as she steps up beside you, the short,
  dusky woman lets her yellow ceramic charm dangle from a finger.
  
  
   
  
  The braidlocked, turquoise-eyed woman shifts her gaze to send a not-so-sure
  grin the slick-haired, rune-nailed man's way.
  
  
   
  
  
  The hardy,
  midnight-curled woman looks from you to the slick-haired, rune-nailed man and
  chuckles.
  
  
   
  
  
  Without
  changing his serene expression, the slick-haired, rune-nailed man lets his pair
  of splotchy purple sunslits drop back down, covering his eyes once again.
  
  
   
  
  
  Turning
  around, the slick-haired, rune-nailed man says to the short, dusky woman, in
  southern-accented sirihish:
  
  
        "I'd
  prefer a charm with Whira's blessings, if you have anything like that....krath
  knows I'd need to fly if a horror pounced on my skimmer."
  
  
   
  
  
  You suffer
  from use of the Way.
  
  
   You contact the short, dusky woman with
  the Way.
  
  
   
  
  
  Glancing at
  her yellow ceramic charm, the short, dusky woman says to the slick-haired,
  rune-nailed man, in sirihish:
  
  
        "Don' have
  much like that. This's a charm for luck, plain an' simple."
  
  
   
  
  
  You suffer
  from use of the Way.
  
  
   You send a telepathic message to the
  short, dusky woman:
  
  
       
  "Definitely a weirdo. I've been good.. you?"
  
  
   
  
  
  You dissolve
  the psychic link.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man moves one hand over the short, dusky woman's hand
  in which the charm is held, looking down at his nails.
  
  
   
  
  
  Giving it a
  little toss, the short, dusky woman gives her yellow ceramic charm to the
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man moves his hand back, and nods once.
  
  
   
  
  
  A foreign
  presence contacts your mind.
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman sends you a telepathic message:
  
  
        "Never
  complaining. Negotiating. We've got our shiny thing back."
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  braidlocked, turquoise-eyed woman pushes the last bit of cake into her mouth,
  watching the slick-haired, rune-nailed man.
  
  
   
  
  
  You eat your
  small portion of a honied, seed-encrusted wheat cake.
  
  
   You are full.
  
  
   
  
  
  You are
  carrying:
  
  
   a cream-colored japuaar fruit
  
  
   
  
  Dropping it into her pocket, you put your cream-colored japuaar fruit into your
  desert-colored sandcloth greatcloak.
  
  
   
  
  
  Pressing
  both his palms around the charm, for a moment, the slick-haired, rune-nailed
  man asks the short, dusky woman, in southern-accented sirihish:
  
  
        "Whats it
  gonna cost me Jisiu?"
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man asks the short, dusky woman, in southern-accented
  sirihish:
  
  
        "And more importantly, do you make them in purple?
  Or blue?"
  
  
   
  
  
  Tilting her
  head back, the short, dusky woman says to the slick-haired, rune-nailed man, in
  sirihish:
  
  
        "What's
  good fortune worth to you? We have blue."
  
  
   
  
  
  Returning it
  with the flick of a wrist, the slick-haired, rune-nailed man gives his yellow
  ceramic charm to the short, dusky woman.
  
  
   
  
  
  Glancing at
  her yellow ceramic charm, the short, dusky woman asks the slick-haired,
  rune-nailed man, in sirihish:
  
  
        "But not
  with us. What, don' like flashy bright?"
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman sweeps a dubious look up and down the slick-haired, rune-nailed
  man.
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman sends you a telepathic message:
  
  
        "Kind of a
  funny story how we got it, too."
  
  
   
  
  
  You sense a
  foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
  
  
   
  
  
  Bending
  forward to unhitch his small crystal pendant, the slick-haired, rune-nailed man
  asks the short, dusky woman, in southern-accented sirihish:
  
  
        "Tell you
  what, I'll pay for the charm, but instead of yours, can you bless mine?"
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man says to the short, dusky woman, in
  southern-accented sirihish:
  
  
        "Add a few
  beads in the string, if you like...."
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man stops using his small crystal pendant.
  
  
   
  
  
  Tucking it
  into an inside pocket, the short, dusky woman puts her yellow ceramic charm
  into her drab, weathered stormcloak.
  
  
   
  
  
  The great
  sun rises in the east, turning the scrub plains to gold.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man extends one hand, his small crystal pendant
  dangling from it.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man gives his small crystal pendant to the short,
  dusky woman.
  
  
   
  
  
  Head tilted,
  the short, dusky woman reaches out for the pendant.
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman tucks an ankle up, loosening a strap around it.
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman extinguishes a glowing leather-strapped green glow-crystal.
  
  
   
  
  
  Grinning
  crookedly, you ask the short, dusky woman, in sirihish:
  
  
        "You wanna
  do't, or should I?"
  
  
   
  
  
  Turning her
  small crystal pendant over in her palm, the short, dusky woman says to you, in
  sirihish:
  
  
        "You've
  always been better at it, pretty pena. You an' your eyes."
  
  
   
  
  
  To the three
  women standing in a circle, the slick-haired, rune-nailed man says, in
  southern-accented sirihish:
  
  
        "If its
  all the same, I'll go over and stand there....."
  
  
   
  
  
  Leaning
  toward you, the short, dusky woman says to you, in sirihish:
  
  
        "My kisses
  bring danger, not luck."
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man looks down at his nails, striding off.
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman gives you her small crystal pendant.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man walks westwards, out of view, behind a wagon.
  
  
   
  
  
  With a
  visible show of excitement, the braidlocked, turquoise-eyed woman takes the
  pendant, gathering it in her palm.
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman grins a little, leaning back and slouching against a vividly
  painted wagon.
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman intently scans the area.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  braidlocked, turquoise-eyed woman takes a couple of slow breaths and, glancing
  a bit westward out of the corner of her eye, covers your small crystal pendant
  with her other hand, rubbing it some between her palms.
  
  
   
  
  
  Tilting her
  wide-brimmed, tandu hide hat back for a better view, the hardy, midnight-curled
  woman watches you.
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman watches with a completely serious face.
  
  
   
  
  
  Resolutely,
  the slick-haired, rune-nailed man stands leaning against a wagon, his back
  against the group of three women.
  
  
   
  
  In a low, serious chanting tone, rubbing the pendant between her hands with her
  eyes closed, you say, in sirihish:
  
  
        "Mm-bot,
  sh-ga. Mm-bot, sh-ga. Mmmmm-grtt, sh-gat-daaaaa."
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man buffs his nails on his feather-lined, purple mesh
  shirt, and then spreads his fingers, looking down at his nails.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  braidlocked, turquoise-eyed woman opens her eyes slowly, her face dead serious,
  and kisses your small crystal pendant for added luck, before clearing her
  throat noisily.
  
  
   
  
  
  A strange
  sort of sound escapes the short, dusky woman, and she quickly coughs into a
  fist.
  
  
   
  
  
  Calling out,
  avoiding the short, dusky woman's eyes, you say, in sirihish:
  
  
        "Alright,
  we're good now."
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man inhales sharply, turns around and strides back.
  
  
   
  
  
  You think:
  
  
        "This
  guy's such an idiot."
  
  
   
  
  
  His
  expression neutral, the slick-haired, rune-nailed man says to you, in
  southern-accented sirihish:
  
  
        "Thank
  you."
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man extends one palm, face up.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man opens a blue silk backpack with purple lily
  embroidery.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man gets his pile of allanaki coins from his blue
  silk backpack with purple lily embroidery.
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman smiles winsomely at the slick-haired, rune-nailed man, then adds a
  little wink.
  
  
   
  
  
  Smiling with
  satisfaction, you give your small crystal pendant to the slick-haired,
  rune-nailed man.
  
  
   
  
  
  The hardy,
  midnight-curled woman's eyes follow the pendant as it changes hands.
  
  
   
  
  
  The sun
  begins its long voyage across the heavens.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man crosses his hand over your hand, releasing a clinking
  of black coins from one palm into the other.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man gives you 100 coins.
  
  
  
  
  All eyes on him, pulling her hand away, you say to the slick-haired,
  rune-nailed man, in sirihish:
  
  
        "You'll
  have to let us know how it serves you, man."
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man drops a mute nod, pulling the string and jerking
  it over his neck.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man bows his head, placing his small crystal pendant
  about his neck.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man puts his pile of allanaki coins into his blue
  silk backpack with purple lily embroidery.
  
  
   
  
  
  The
  slick-haired, rune-nailed man closes a blue silk backpack with purple lily
  embroidery.
  
  
   
  
  
  Trailing her
  dark gaze up him, the short, dusky woman says to the slick-haired, rune-nailed
  man, in sirihish:
  
  
        "A real
  pleasure, man of Kadius. We'll look for you in Red Storm."
  
  
   
  
  
  Raising one
  hand, the slick-haired, rune-nailed man says, in southern-accented sirihish:
  
  
        "Safe
  sands at your feet, gypsies...."
  
  
   
  
  
  The slick-haired,
  rune-nailed man walks west.
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman smirks hard, turning.
  
  
   
  
  
  The short,
  dusky woman enters a vividly painted wagon.
  
  
   
  
  
  Shooting you a grin, the hardy, midnight-curled woman says to you,
  in bendune:            
  
  
        "That was
  good."
  
  
   
  
  
  The hardy,
  midnight-curled woman enters a vividly painted wagon.
  
  
  
  
  The braidlocked, turquoise-eyed woman smirks to herself, hopping inside.
  

  
  You step out
  to...
  
  
   
  
  
   Luir's Wagon Yard [SW]
  
  
      This large tract of dry,
  cracked earth lies just to the northwest of
  
  
   the west gate of Luirs.  To the south, across Steel road, a stables
  is
  
  
   easily visble and westward, the inner
  walls of the outpost loom. ...

  
  Continue Reading...