Indrani takes out her spyglass, looking for any sign of the hidden ambush.
Search Posts
Indrani nods at Dusk's advice to those not used to horses, seeming as comfortable in the saddle as on foot. While her people were not born riding, they did learn to ride before they could even walk to the horses. She looks to the cat and the halfling, "Stay close to me. Fareedah is used to being close when ridden. I may be able to reach out to help if your horse is startled or unmanagable."
Indrani wakes after her night of talking with the drow woman. She cleans up and opens the window to feel the morning breeze on her face, before she dresses, once again putting on her veil and hiding her face before heading downstairs. She orders warm bread, which is very different than the bread she grew up with, being spongy with a hard crust, and any kind of spiced meat they have. When she first left the desert, she hated this bland bread, but over time she's gotten used to the bread of the northerners. But she could not get used to porridge, the sloppy, bland breakfast they apparently prefer. Indrani found it revolting, with it's runny but lumpy texture. She sits at one of the back tables, taking out some of her dried fruits and nuts to complete her breakfast.
Indrani nods, "I will see they are caring for your horse properly as well." They head off to the stables to check the horses, Indrani taking time to inspect the build of Dusk's horse while she's making sure it's well cared for.
Indrani nods, "And I can learn about your people. But I must check Fareedah before I rest." Indrani heads to the stables to check on the care of her horse before heading up to the room.
Indrani nods, her manner seeming even more formal and proud suddenly, "She is a prized mare from my father's stable and was given to me upon completion of my first warrior tests." She listens to his suggestion, "Many of the elders of my tribe can speak with the horses as well. Your intervention in the matter is much appreciated, Elder." She repeats the forehead, lips, heart 'salute' to Vergor.
Indrani narrows her eyes as she looks at the snake. It was very different from the ones where she's from, certainly not as sleek and without a rattle on it's tail. She knew the signs of snakes in the desert, but how would they know these... "This is a swamp snake? It is very different from the ones Fareedah and I are used to. Perhaps it would be a good idea to introduce...your friend to her."
The desert woman picks up the tube gingerly. Looking at it for a moment, she hands it to the druid, not trusting magic that does not come in a controllable weapon. She shakes her head at the talk of patriarchs and matriarchs and the way it should be. The elders were right, those that live outside the lands and do not listen to the wise people of the tribe are barbarians. She turns to Merle, "I plan to sleep, eat, and see to my horse. Fareedah has work ahead of her and she must be well tended for the journey."
Indrani nods to Vergor, "If it is our decision to make, the elder knows the swamp. I believe he would be the best leader for this task."
Indrani looks to the masked man, then back to the dark woman and raises an eyebrow, "I have only heard your requests for reward. Not an offer from him." She shrugs, "To my people, those that live outside of the Calim are barbarians. Women do not show their faces to barbarians casually. It is also practical in the Calim, when the Djinn storms come upon us."
Indrani catches a faint nod from the masked man and sits with the invitation to join the group. She listens to the discussion, saying nothing, though she knows about tribal wars from the old tales told by the elders, it's been a thing of the past for many centuries. The desert is hard enough to survive when the tribes work together. She watches the dark woman intently, as her fee seems a very small thing for what she knows could be dangerous work, though her comment on the mask... "I also hide my face. Does that mean you will not trust me or my skills in this task? Do you think me 'shady' for my covering?"
A tall figure, dressed in loose fitting, light colored clothing, strides into the tavern from a door near the stables. The figure looks around for a moment as if dismissing each table as not the one she is looking for. Setting eyes on the odd group at the table with the masked man, she strides over.
Stopping, she motions to the table, resting her fingertips on her forhead, then her lips, then her heart, bowing slightly with the last motion of her hand. A heavily accented voice comes from behind the veil, "Pardon my tardiness. Your stable hands do not know how to properly care for a horse. I am Indrani Roshan." She stands until properly invited to the table, even in this land of barbarians there is no need to lose all sense of honor and tradition. |