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"im sorry but my preaching is over for the day is there something that i can help you with"
-Posted with Wayfinder
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“The Roidirans ache for something meaningful, though they don’t
know it. There is a fundamental contradiction at the heart of their
faith. They embrace meaninglessness, yet that quest in and of
itself is meaningful to them. You’ve heard the rumors, no doubt,
about how we White Feathers and the Roidirans are two sides
of the same coin, yes? I am not sure how much I credit that. But
the hearsay sticks to us all like tar. I embrace the Roidirans as
sister outsiders who understand our lot. That is why I weep for
them. They are finding something in the jungle that is tearing
them apart, making them unbalanced and enraged. They seem
to be grieving, though for what, I do not know. What I do know is
that some claim that Roidira’s secret lies in the Maharev Jungle. If
you wish to investigate, go with care. But try not to hurt them, for
they are lost. Know this passphrase: if you are asked ‘Where does
brotherhood lie?’ answer, ‘At peace beneath her black wings.’
-Posted with Wayfinder
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With a few quick swishes of his calligraphy brush Abaal also notes the counter sign on a bit of parchment. When asked: "Where does brotherhood lie?" answer, "At peace beneath her black wings." He does it mainly for practice, but also not to be out-shown by the out-of-towners.
He hopes this doesn't end like that time "Bree-Yark" was mentioned as something to say to peaceably bypass goblins with. He makes a face in memory of the smell. Then he reflects upon the woman's words again.
"There is a fundamental contradiction at the heart of their faith. They embrace meaninglessness, yet that quest in and of itself is meaningful to them."
*sigh* "What's the point?"
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Tesson clears his throat.
"Companions, I sense we have taken more time than needed from the lady. Maybe we should go back to our work of investigation?" he says lightly with a slight wink.
"AND head T'wards the taVErn!" he yells uncontrollably, his current appearance shifting slightly between the drunkard and the well-mannered dhampir.
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The Flaming Scimitar thrives at this hour. The clatter of dice and
gems on tables threatens to drown out the surging conversation and
clinking steins around the bar. It’s a rough place, where the smoke
clings to the ceiling as if in respect of the strength and grit thronging
beneath it. The smell of tobacco and incense is thick enough in the
air to drink. It seems every dockworker, sailor, miner, and farmer in
Qaharid is here, the men and women whose labor moves the city.
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"Yay beer!" shouts Tesson, almost too much eager.
He reverts to his usual appearance and strides boldly towards the bar. "Beer!" he announces to the barman.
Turning towards the crowded tavern, he raises an eyebrow.
"'Ey barman! Whyze the place so full? Izthere some kinda... event? New beer, perhaps? Or... stronger beer? Maybe... maybe spirits?" he risks.
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"Rude...", Anibal mutters to himself, then puts on a face and looks at the bartender.
"Yes, we would like a pitcher or two of ale and six mugs.", he says and tosses 10 silver to the man. "Not to waste your time, but I agree with my friend. Is the place always this full? If so, you must be doing well."
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Abaal leans up against the bar (basically to have something at his back) and orders something simple and hard to mess up. He's been to seedy dives like this before....
From the bar he looks out over the crowd.
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Adar is a
barrel-chested man with a long, coiled black beard and
rosy cheeks that peak from his wide smile and generous
laugh. Recently promoted to the rank of mine foreman,
he’s taken to his new role as “management” with relish.
He lives cheerfully as a bachelor, spending his newfound
disposable income at the Scimitar, gambling and drinking
with his friends every other night of the week.
aaye im always down for a chat but first let us have a contest. We shall drink or play cards your choice.
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“A whole troop of these
Roidiran characters passed by our mine while we were on
break and they started preaching to us about going to ‘find
enlightenment,’ that there was a sacred place for their faith
in the jungle and asked if any of us wanted to go with. Said
they were on ‘Roidira’s Road,’ the path to total knowledge.
One of the other miners, Shareef, was actually thinking
of doing it! ‘What else have I got to live for?’ he said, like
a damned moron. But then the Roidirans started talking
about their ‘fallen comrades’ in the jungle and something
about how the Place of Enlightenment wasn’t for the faint of
heart. Shareef got cold feet—and good for him too.”
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“One of these days Maharev is going to turn into a giant sink hole because of all
the earth we’ve dug up. You think the mines and pits we work at
were the only ones? No, there’s plenty of old mines out there—
and good riddance to ‘em, too. My last mine was spooky as Hell,
and I was the happiest damn pickaxe-wielder in Qadira when
we picked the last bit of turquoise from it. There was writing
on the walls from those Roidiran fanatics, our medic said it
looked like it was written in blood! Stuff about emptiness and
how ‘death is knowledge.’” he leans into whisper, “It wasn’t right,
I’m telling you. We almost went on strike until management
finally promised us they wouldn’t send us down at night no
more. But after dark there were these…things. Wish we had a
paladin there. Ain’t some things you can just fix with an axe,
you hear?” The informant gives a location for the mine, which
is in southern portion of the Maharev Jungle.
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It often falls to a hero to do these sorts of things. "Samajida al-Haqira. I am Abaal Zadeir. I could not help but notice that-" Abaal runs out on to the verbal plank and realizes there is nothing but an endless sea of nowhere to go beyond it. But that does not deter the true hero. If everything were as easy as falling off a ship's plank then everyone would be worthy the name. No Abaal will not fall. Abaal the daring swordsman of Katapesh dives in!
"That you are in this seat!" he finishes definitively--if overly dramatically. And then luck strikes as unexpectedly as a sudden rare plague. "And I see now this woman sitting next to us is getting up and leaving for some reason. Excellent!" Abaal takes the seat.
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Samajida is a tall, sinewy woman hunched over the bar,
whose bare arms reveal the strong muscles that hold up the
length of rope coiled over her shoulder. Happily married
to a successful date salesman who sells the produce of the family farm, this miner lives a contented life, though
she drinks to push away thoughts of her son who is now
deep into his 2 years of mandatory military service.
She looks at abaal with skepticism all over her face.
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Anibal smirks at Abaal's behaviour, and shuffles closer to the duo with a mug in his hand.
"Abaal, my friend. While I applaud your - unhindered - approach, you seem to lack a bit of finesse." He looks over to Samajida over the Keleshite's broad shoulders. "My friend and me just wish to talk to some of the locals about the recent developments in the area, ma'am. Nothing to be worried about. We're looking for some information. Perhaps we can have a chat over a drink or two? I've been told you might possess some knowledge relevant to our... quandary."
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Samajida is a tall, sinewy woman hunched over the bar,
whose bare arms reveal the strong muscles that hold up the
length of rope coiled over her shoulder. Happily married
to a successful date salesman who sells the produce of the family farm, this miner lives a contented life, though
she drinks to push away thoughts of her son who is now
deep into his 2 years of mandatory military service.
She looks at abaal with skepticism all over her face.
Surprised by all the information, Abaal decides to play it safe and begins with a question. "So your husband... he sells dates with you?"
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Anibal tilts his head at Abaal, and considers his question. His mouth does a quiet "Oooohhhhhh..." after a short moment. He taps Abaal's shoulder, and addresses Samajida very briefly with a lifted index finger: "A second, ma'am. We need to discuss something with my friend here."
He leans towards Abaal's ear and whispers: "I guess that explains the price, then. Why else would a bottle be that expensive? That's like 3 months worth of pay for a dock worker. I mean I wasn't planning on purchasing any such services, but we need that information. Split the bill, and maybe the goods?"
