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Ah! So you like the mustache! Many women do but I wear it for the men ... I mean to distract the men. When they come at me with their daggers drawn, they are so caught wondering 'How does he grow such a dark, thick, and bushy mustache?' that they are slow to move and I cut them to pieces with my scimitar! Is good, yes?
*climbs up onto a table to get a better look* Has that ever worked? ..and why would men be coming at you with daggers? Nobody brings daggers to a scimitar fight! Right?
*Jumps up and down a little* Do you do interesting and dangerous things? Can I help?!
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Ah! So you like the mustache! Many women do but I wear it for the men ... I mean to distract the men. When they come at me with their daggers drawn, they are so caught wondering 'How does he grow such a dark, thick, and bushy mustache?' that they are slow to move and I cut them to pieces with my scimitar! Is good, yes?*climbs up onto a table to get a better look* Has that ever worked? ..and why would men be coming at you with daggers? Nobody brings daggers to a scimitar fight! Right?
*Jumps up and down a little* Do you do interesting and dangerous things? Can I help?!
I have been done many important missions but ... to tell you the truth ... I am still learning. I have learnt these things:
-- when bandits do not cover their tracks very well it is because there are so many they are not afraid of you and you should be ready to run;-- when they do cover their tracks, making increasingly large concentric circles is not an effective way of tracking them, particularly in the desert;
-- when a chieftan asks for you to return his kidnapped daughter to him, he usually wants her alive;
-- if by some reason the daughter does not want to go because she is not so kidnapped but more really married to handsome but poor nomad man then returning her in not so alive condition is not so wise thinks chieftan;
-- if chieftan send entire tribe to chase you to the ocean, take a ship for Absalom where no one knows you.
These are the things I know. Now you know them too.
What do you know?
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What do you know?
I know a great many things, far too many to tell you right now. I know stories, oh so many stories, stories of wonder, of daring deeds, of countless treasures! And more beyond!
Then there are the songs and dances. *Does an excited, graceful little twirl*
I can also tell you te ingredients of almost any perfume, scent or fragrant oil, us gnomes have great noses like that *taps the side of her nose*
I also know the other things that come with harem training, how to please people in copious ways regardless of race, gender or size. Although I also learnt that powerful human men don't mean 'short' when they ask for exotic wives *shrugs* their loss. It means I get to learn a lot more things and live, love and enjoy everything!
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*looks up from where he was leaning against the wall and begins to speak in a dust-torn voice*
Dance you say? it just so happens that my cane here doubles as a Ney. this "party" needs some music anyway.
*looks around and doesn't hear any*
Interested? I learned this one from my uncle who got it off the walls of a ruined burial chamber he once uncovered. and then I shall intorduce you to real food: fried lamb on bread. non of this soul-less fare. *raised eyebrow at that last part, indicating it was a pun or joke*
*Begins to play a haunting melody on his flute*
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*Smiles* I would, but whilst I can dance to this, it's a little too ghostly for my liking. Did this tomb not have any more upbeat melodies? Who dies and surrounds themself with even more death? For that matter who of great importance truly dies?
*stops his playing and looks up*
ah, but you see, that is the point. Death is but a stepping stone, a facet of life all must travel through. we are only known by what we leave behind. memories. we are passed down to our descendants and-
*stops talking as everyone starts to look at him*
I just realized this kind of philosophy is not suited to a party. how about a jig I picked up in port when i was a boy? And as for the tomb, well, that's a story for another time.
*Begins to play a sailers jig, much more upbeat*
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But what about the creatures that do not die? Hmm? They really don't fit into your philosophy do they? Poor poor immortals, tsk..
*with a payful grin she tears her attention away from the osiron and launches into an energetic dance, skipping, jumping and twirling around the room, a bright laugh following her*
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But what about the creatures that do not die? Hmm? They really don't fit into your philosophy do they? Poor poor immortals, tsk..
*with a payful grin she tears her attention away from the osiron and launches into an energetic dance, skipping, jumping and twirling around the room, a bright laugh following her*
Hush girl! He is Osirion! The Osirions were building temples for their god-kings when we Qadirans still learning to strap bones together to frame our tents!! The Osirions built temples and tombs the like of which other nations only know in myth and legend. So hush, and listen to his song ...
...because it may contain a clue to where these riches are buried.
Play on kind sir!!
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Do not hush me! Or call me 'girl', I'm a woman and have a name!
She is definitely a woman...albeit...short...but that isn't all bad.
*The dark haired, sardonic Kaleshite bows*
I am Parald Ben'Odalt Dassem of farthest Burzar. I have made my way to Absalom to make my fortune. I greet you and wish upon you the blessings of the Dawnflower.
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Haha! You blush so easily. What I hunger for is for me to know and for others to try to find out *grins*
*grins back*
And yes, cake, the chelexian has cake,I licked it, it tasted odd.
Absalom is a strange city where one breaks bread with devil worshipers. In Burzar and many places in Qadira they would be put to death. To foster such evil is unthinkable.
By the Dawnflower, why do they not throw off the chains of their infernal masters?
*Parald clearly embarrassed by his outburst stuffs another kabob in his mouth.*
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Ah, you're just surly you havn't found a way to charge them for it yet.
*takes a gulp of his water. it does little to soothe the scratchy quality of his voice.*
believe me, they're not all that bad. and like the lady says, we're all in it for our own reasons, be it shiny baubles or the rush of adreneline. we're all brothers and sisters here. come sit and tell us of your history.
*Gestures to the empty cushion sitting in stark contrast to the hard floor he's currently sitting on*
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*Although shocked by the familiarity he hides it well, showing nothing but a small stutter*
W-well my dear, have you come to continue our discussion? uh...or perhaps you're more interested in stories of tombs and kings and adventures?
*Pulls a large finger out of a pocket in his cloak. the bones are bound with what looks like dried sinew.*
this for instance. I came across it in my last...trip. apparently it belonged to the court mage of a king from aeons ago. the bureau allowed me to keep it as payment.
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*grins brightly and squirms a little to get comfortable in his lap* Why would you want a finger? Unless it does something interesting.. is it still magical? Does it float?
..or if it's truly of value shouldn't it be on display somewhere rather han in your pocket where any common thief could chance upon it?
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It is of a sentimental value lady, and while it is of minor value, no more so then most baubles you'd find at the market. you see, this finger saved my life.
*lowers voice to make sure she's paying attention and drinks more water to raise the tension*
on my last trip, me and my friends got locked in a room, a burial one by the looks of the skeletens. sliding door, made of rock, just trapped us there and sand started falling in. after some searching, i found a hole in the wall, just big enough for a finger. i was about to put my finger in when-
*takes a bite of bread and water*
my friend stopped me. I had almost forgotten the core tenet of being careful. she bound up these finger bones and poked them in there. the spark and flash told me she just saved my live. the door opened and we were able to get out in time, but i took the finger as a reminder to never forget basic safety.
*chuckles to himself and puts the finger away after one last look*
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...
*looks slightly ashamed and awkward*
I panicked. It happens to everyone sometimes. and as for my friend, well, she got assigned to another part of the world. she was nice though. a lady of the cloth. oh the discussions we got into. never could pronouce her goddess. it was that one of nature.
How about yourself? any tales to tell while we're comfy?
*offers her some water*
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hmm. well you seem to be protective about your stature, based on how you treated the other guests. why not one where you did something about it?
...
*lowers voice and his eyes get round in anticipation* and can it involve a unicorn? i havn't had the chance to see one yet, so that's about as wondrous as it gets.
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Good Kessul give the lady something more lively than a dried up old finger to hold.
*Parald settles in to listen to Spark's tale*
No, no unicorns -- for it is known they are only attracted to maidens. And what fun are they?
Give us a tale of an honest vizer, an ugly prince, and a tailor who does not triumph in the end.
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*Smiles* Well, a long time ago, probably before the time of a lot of people in this room a young gnome left her training amongst a particularily well-loved group of women who train a select few the arts of pleasing people, but that is a story for another day *waves her hand dismissively* She had a spring in her step for a great many roads were laid at her feet, countless possibilities to live, to love and to learn. Alas she found most doors closed to her, the strongly human populace found it hard to understand her. Despite whispers that powerful men and women were seeking exotic companionship most would not 'stoop so low' as to take in someone quite so short.
We gnomes however are known for our longevity and our lust for.. well everything really.. so she continued onward. The standard routes for a woman of her training closed she instead cut her own route, finding all sorts of wonderful things and experiencing all sorts of amazing things. Yet still something appeared to be missing, a small hole within her that would not fill.
That was until one night, not so long ago, when she saw a light outside her window as she tried to sleep. Crawling out of bed and hurrying outside she soon found the source of the unearthly glow, the most breathtaking sight in all Golorian, a pure white being of indescribable grace and presence. The equine pawed at the ground and dashed off into the ditance at unbelievable speed. The gnome followed as quickly as her little legs would take her, soon finding herself lost and alone in unfamiliar territory.
It was there she met her first pathfinder, he showed her the way back to her room and to a new life. A life where she could stand tall and not fear that she would be discounted due to her height.
*grins brightly before looking at Parald with a giggle*
I also have a tale about those things as well, but I will not tell another tale until I've heard a good one from you!
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I am not very good with tales – but for you sweet lady I will try.
Far to the west and long ago there is the land of D’Larap. There the blue waters of the S’Arkp River provide fertile grounds and shelter from the wicked sands and cruel winds of the Desert of Orazal. For in Orazal live the jinn. They are despotic and cunning ever seeking to enslave the folk of D’Larap. Within the S’Arkp lives a fish of surpassing beauty and wisdom. The humble people of D’Larap beseech the fish and she protects the people. For the jinn can be tricked and made fools of and none excel at this like the beautiful Fish of S’Arkp. For this reason the folk of S’Arkp do not eat of the flesh of fishes in the river nor dam its waters.
And so it came to pass that a stranger arrived upon the banks of the S’Arkp. He was a traveler and the sand of a thousand days in the desert invested his beard and hair. He also had fleas in abundance. In his thirst he drank deeply from the S’Arkp and beheld the beauteous fish in the depths. Too he hungered and knew not of the esteem and magic of the fish. Thus he sought to draw the fish from her cool bed so that he might feast upon her. The traveler fashioned a net of air and light – he was a magus skilled in the arcane arts – and snared the Fish of S’Arkp and drew her forth from the waters.
And though the fish pleaded and struggled the magi knew not the language of the D’Larap. So the hope of D’Larap and the pride of the River S’Arkp was consumed in a moment. All but the bones which the magi cast back into the river. The very next day the magus was snatched up by a giant eagle to feed to her fledglings. When next the jinn roared out of Orazal there was no fish to trick and deceive them and so they enslaved the people of D’Larap who knew a thousand years of torment and servitude. And the beautiful land of D’Larap passed into sand and wind for want of a clever fish.
In sorrow it is said that the River S’Arkp plunged beneath the sands and flows there still. To it is said that at the mouth of the S’Arkp the intrepid can find the bones of the wondrous fish which are said to bestow wisdom and a cunning tongue.
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Of our northern neighbors the Taldor I have a question. They seem so pompous and full of themselves yet still bitter after we blunted their violent attack on the inner sea so many centuries ago. What should one expect when they are forced to travel and... adventure with these beasts in human clothing? After all many wish for the wastefulness war when all that is needed is profitable fair trade. After all war cannot feed and clothe your family only good hard work can do that. How should we treat the Taldorian dogs when we are forced to break bread with them?
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*looks up at Russell*
A Quadiran talking of something not being profitable? you must have missed that day at school. Now what is this talk of war and the dogs thereof? we were nicely entertaining each other with tales of times past. I believe it is your turn, friend. or do i need to pay for your words at your own party?
*the last being spoken with dry sarcasm.*
Incidently Sirouz, I just so happen to know a "song of the scimitar". it was taught to me one night, under a red moon. should you be interested, i might be willing to play it for you. although it's better if one person plays and one sings. kind of hard when i play the flute.
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Tabriq relines on his silken sitting pillow cutting strips of grilled lamb meat and eating them. He sucks in a lungfull of smoke from his nargeelah and releases a fragrant cloud over his head.
"Ah ... truly it is a fine thing to relax with friends and listen to the bards sing odes from the glorious past. Where did that bard go? She was a delight to listen to. "
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A Quadiran talking of something not being profitable? you must have missed that day at school. Now what is this talk of war and the dogs thereof? we were nicely entertaining each other with tales of times past. I believe it is your turn, friend. or do i need to pay for your words at your own party?
The halfling pulls the cloth from his dirty face covered in scars. Satrap Xerbystes craves the glory of blood but the falcon is tethered and cannot reach the prey it desires. Kelish has Hebizid Vraj, a hand made for grasping the purse rather than the hilt in charge of interests beyond the falcon's reach. So the pirates of both Oppara and Katheer feast off each others vassals testing an uneasy peace.
His grime covered hand grasps a few figs and grapes, tilts his head back and crushes the juices into his mouth before tossing the meat away.This imp is willing to put aside his anger inflicted on him by his Zimar... trainers but if they raise a hand to me now I will take it off to remind them of their over reaching in the past. Praise the Dawnflower the bringer of light.|
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(was Russell Akred now my PC named Iota a very small halfling)
The halfling swats a fly (thank god they get no AoOs) then rips off a piece of bread and stuffs part in his mouth before letting out a long popping fart. Good food, can you pass me the Who Ka?
Stuffs the bread in his mouth leaving it hanging out before reaching under his robes and slapping his leg and then roughly scratching it before ripping the bread from his mouth.
Can't wait to increase Qadirans (Kad i rans?) trade with the center of the world. Keep the trade flowing keep the people happy.
