 About Zahur ThorntreeThe Garundi standing before you has the fierce look of devotion in his pale grey eyes. He is simply armoured in a coat and kilt. A scimitar hangs from his hip while a kukri rests opposite. The magnificent grey courser next to him can only be one of the Aasifa, those fabled desert horses known for their endurance and natural inclination to perform intricate maneuvers both on the battlefield and the parade grounds. Zahur Thorntree
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Zahur Thorntree was born to a well established house. His father is a prosperous merchant and head of his family and their mercantile operations. He is a member of the Council of Elders and has often been considered for the position of keeper by his people, but he always declines, explaining that the family business is his primary concern. His mother is the daughter of the chief of one of the largest nomadic tribes in southern Rahadoum. Zahur grew up on his mother’s tales of raids on other nomad tribes and explorations into the dark mysterious lands of the Mwangi. Her descriptions of the superb horsemen of her tribe would cause Zahur’s pale grey eyes, the only feature he shared with his father, to light up. His dreams were filled with visions of the fierce desert horses with white manes and tails and sleek grey coats moving like storm clouds to the accompaniment of their thundering hooves as the herds traveled the sparse landscape. As with most Rahadoumi, Zahur was educated. Due to his family’s wealth and prestige, he received some of the best tutors Azir had to offer. He took to his lessons well enough and learned genteel manners, but his true passion was the law. From the first time a teacher set down the Laws of Man in front of Zahur, he was entranced. The simplicity of the laws and their foundation in common sense were spellbinding. He read, and then reread, the whole book, asking his mentors for clarification on this point or how people were meant to follow that law. He spent so much time studying the law, that his mother became worried. In one of her frequent letters to her father, she asked for advice on how to get Zahur outside and experience the world beyond the cover of books. His reply was unexpected. A couple of months after her request for advice, a contingent of her tribesmen appeared at the gates to the Thorntree estate. They were mounted on their beautiful grey Aasifa steeds, leading several others. Upon their welcome, they explained that Zahur’s grandfather had heard the plea of his only daughter. He sent his men with a gift for his distant grandson. He had got his own personal stallion upon a mare and sent it with instructions that the foal it birthed would belong to Zahur. Such a rare horse was a valuable treasure. His grandfather’s own groom would stay to teach Zahur how to raise this noble horse and ride it in the way of the nomads, becoming one with his companion. His trusted warriors would remain to instruct Zahur in fighting. His instruction began immediately. They showed him the scimitar and kukri and how to put the curved blades to best effect. They taught him to wear the armoured coat and kilt to protect himself without being bound in metal armour that would as soon kill him in the desert as protect him from his foes. When the time came, the mare birthed a stallion. Zahur was delighted with this exotic gift and enthusiastically followed all of the instructions that the groom, Jahil, gave him. The boy and foal were instant friends. They quickly became inseparable. As soon as his stallion was old enough, he learned how to ride. Jahil and the other warriors shared the secrets of nomad horsemanship. They also showed him how to fight from horseback with lance, scimitar and shield. Lastly, Zahur learned how to work with the stallion’s instincts for show and get the horse to perform intricate maneuvers. (Think Andalusian) As it happened, he was one day stuck in an office working on accounting for his father when he heard voices. Knowing that he should be the only one there at that late hour, he thought that thieves may have broken in to steal some of the luxury goods. Taking up his scimitar, he moved to the door and entered the warehouse. Following the sounds of voices, he began make out what they were saying. He came upon a group of people; men, women and children. They were discussing the Dawnflower and how she had blessed each of their lives. They had drawn symbols of the goddess on the floor with chalk and wore trinkets to venerate Saranrae. Zahur recoiled in horror. Here in his family’s own warehouse were religious zealots. Before stopping to consider the odds, he leapt out at the heretics, drawing his scimitar and slashing at everyone he came near. When he finally regained his senses, he was standing amidst several bodies, covered in their blood. He went out to the large entrance and began yelling for the city guards. When they arrived, his fierce look set them back. He led them to the massacre and showed them the religious symbols. They quickly summoned members of the Pure Legion to investigate. Zahur was questioned at length until the authorities were certain that what he said was the truth. They finally released him. As he left, he noticed one of the investigators nod at him with what looked like respect. Once more back home, Zahur reflected upon the events at the warehouse. He now knew that he would never be content simply to learn and practice law, yet his first passion had not withered or deserted him. He realized that with the skills of his mother’s people and the knowledge of the law, he could serve the people by spreading the word of the First Law and rooting out religion in all it’s forms. |
