A Sojourn in Sairundan Part 2 [Judge: Manzanita]
Solange
First Post
"I am Shadya yn Hayder. It is an honor to meet you." Shadya says with a serious curtsy before she smirks and hugs her brother. "Congratulations brother, you'll make a great Dervish. I hope to join you among their ranks some day."
OOC: I'm going to be traveling off and on till after new years, so I might not be on the boards much.
OOC: I'm going to be traveling off and on till after new years, so I might not be on the boards much.
Rae ArdGaoth
Explorer
"Ah, it is the name Sairundan have given to the desert warrior. The fighter who harnesses the wind in his blades." Rais stares at Shadya before breaking down and grinning. "I'm very glad that you could make it, sister." He moves in for a hug, and Hayder watches with a smile. The embrace is interrupted by a loud gruff, " 'Ello?" from the entryway. A short, tanned dwarf in the Sairundani desert garb is standing there, his eyebrow raised quizzically at Shadya's escort. Hayder walks to the dwarf and introduces the blond-haired fellow, "Everyone, this is Gram ai Jamai. Gram, meet Kurgahz, Conuld, Cludge, and Lasair. They brought my daughter Shadya home from the wetlands. Now that we all know each other, shall we sit together for a meal? What do you eat?"AGFlynn said:
OOC: More later, feel free to chat.
Rae ArdGaoth
Explorer
[sblock=Shadya: ]Shadya recognizes him as the only dwarf adviser to the Patriarch, but she doesn't recall her father being friends with him, nor did she know his name on sight.
OOC: Thanks for reminding me about Shadya's knowledge, keep doing that because I'm bound to forget.[/sblock]The meal is cooked by Hayder himself, who turns out to be a fine chef. As he cooks, he makes small talk with everybody, asking about the events of the trip, who they met along the way, that sort of thing. Gram is mostly taciturn, but he seems very interested in Cludge. The sand dwarf asks Cludge about his family, and what it's like under the mountains in the wetlands. "Does water drip from the ceilings in all your caverns?"
When the meal is finally prepared and set before you Gram, Hayder, Rais, Amin, and Rafiq all bow their heads. Gram says a short prayer toPhyrah Halor Phyrah, and you notice a wooden holy symbol around his neck. The prayer over, Amin and Rafiq dig in voraciously while the other three eat slowly.
"So, Conuld, Gram here is actually descended from the dwarf who designed and helped build the Teuseunka, the Sairundan archive. Conuld has expressed interest in viewing the archives, Gram. And he has some ideas about recording information. Could a viewing be arranged?" Gram smiles, "I think it could be arranged, yeah. I'd like to 'ear your ideas, too. Paper's expensive, and animal hide's not much cheaper, but stone takes ages to chisel. What'd you 'ave in mind?"
Hayder also asks about the finer details of your journey.
[sblock=Kurgahz: ]Of note, Gram does not react at all to Kurgahz's race. In fact, Gram doesn't even seem to notice that Kurgahz is any different from Conuld, or Rais even.[/sblock]
OOC: Thanks for reminding me about Shadya's knowledge, keep doing that because I'm bound to forget.[/sblock]The meal is cooked by Hayder himself, who turns out to be a fine chef. As he cooks, he makes small talk with everybody, asking about the events of the trip, who they met along the way, that sort of thing. Gram is mostly taciturn, but he seems very interested in Cludge. The sand dwarf asks Cludge about his family, and what it's like under the mountains in the wetlands. "Does water drip from the ceilings in all your caverns?"
When the meal is finally prepared and set before you Gram, Hayder, Rais, Amin, and Rafiq all bow their heads. Gram says a short prayer to
"So, Conuld, Gram here is actually descended from the dwarf who designed and helped build the Teuseunka, the Sairundan archive. Conuld has expressed interest in viewing the archives, Gram. And he has some ideas about recording information. Could a viewing be arranged?" Gram smiles, "I think it could be arranged, yeah. I'd like to 'ear your ideas, too. Paper's expensive, and animal hide's not much cheaper, but stone takes ages to chisel. What'd you 'ave in mind?"
Hayder also asks about the finer details of your journey.
[sblock=Kurgahz: ]Of note, Gram does not react at all to Kurgahz's race. In fact, Gram doesn't even seem to notice that Kurgahz is any different from Conuld, or Rais even.[/sblock]
Last edited:
Trouvere
Explorer
Conuld looks a bit taken aback to be put on the spot in front of everyone. "Ah, well," he begins. He tugs at his earlobe nervously. "All right. Allow me to make a small demonstration." He moves his hands in odd patterns and speaks a few words. "If you would excuse me for a moment?" He picks up a bowl, which is suddenly mysteriously clean, and heads out into the courtyard.
Shortly, he returns, with a small amount of sand in the bowl. "This is something you have no shortage of, I believe," he says. "Observe." He pours the sand onto the table, cups his hands over it, and when he lifts them, a somewhat shapeless ball of glass is revealed. Somehow he manages to mould this into a flat sheet with the heel of his hand. "I am sure you already know which stones are suitable for mixing with sand such that in their melting they combine to make fine glass. Would it were as easy as this to make glass that will endure. But this is magic which cannot last more than an hour." In another moment, the glass sheet is flat, polished and shiny.
Conuld then takes a small stick of wood from his pouch. He glances at Cludge and gives the smallest of winks as he holds up his forefinger, from which shoots suddenly a jet of flame. He holds it to the stick and watches it burn. When the end is thoroughly charred, he snaps it off, and with a flourish of his hand, he is holding a diamond.
"I am afraid this too is a form of deception. The diamond is real for now - well, moderately real. It is not quite as hard as it should be, I think. It remembers that it was but a moment ago a piece of burned wood, and it is anxious to return to that form. Anyway, I believe I can incise letters in this glass with a diamond more swiftly and more finely than a stonemason can cut letters in stone, though as I am no craftsman, I am afraid I will do it with less beauty. I shall write a short message now."
He does so, taking a little time over the task. "That is enough to see," he announces. "It is adequately legible. Perhaps if I -" He runs his fingers along one edge of the glass sheet and some ill-defined spongy material forms there. Then casting again, he touches the strip, and it glows brightly. He turns the sheet, angling it so the light shines through the fine scratchings in the surface. "Yes, perhaps side-lighting would be effective." He passes the sheet over to Gram. "Well, I hope you see what is my thought. Though a single sheet is fragile, great stacks of glass, each inscribed, could last almost forever. Er, it would be best if the glass were to be put back outside again shortly, before it crumbles into sand and makes a mess."
OOC: the many and varied uses of prestidigitation, and light
Shortly, he returns, with a small amount of sand in the bowl. "This is something you have no shortage of, I believe," he says. "Observe." He pours the sand onto the table, cups his hands over it, and when he lifts them, a somewhat shapeless ball of glass is revealed. Somehow he manages to mould this into a flat sheet with the heel of his hand. "I am sure you already know which stones are suitable for mixing with sand such that in their melting they combine to make fine glass. Would it were as easy as this to make glass that will endure. But this is magic which cannot last more than an hour." In another moment, the glass sheet is flat, polished and shiny.
Conuld then takes a small stick of wood from his pouch. He glances at Cludge and gives the smallest of winks as he holds up his forefinger, from which shoots suddenly a jet of flame. He holds it to the stick and watches it burn. When the end is thoroughly charred, he snaps it off, and with a flourish of his hand, he is holding a diamond.
"I am afraid this too is a form of deception. The diamond is real for now - well, moderately real. It is not quite as hard as it should be, I think. It remembers that it was but a moment ago a piece of burned wood, and it is anxious to return to that form. Anyway, I believe I can incise letters in this glass with a diamond more swiftly and more finely than a stonemason can cut letters in stone, though as I am no craftsman, I am afraid I will do it with less beauty. I shall write a short message now."
He does so, taking a little time over the task. "That is enough to see," he announces. "It is adequately legible. Perhaps if I -" He runs his fingers along one edge of the glass sheet and some ill-defined spongy material forms there. Then casting again, he touches the strip, and it glows brightly. He turns the sheet, angling it so the light shines through the fine scratchings in the surface. "Yes, perhaps side-lighting would be effective." He passes the sheet over to Gram. "Well, I hope you see what is my thought. Though a single sheet is fragile, great stacks of glass, each inscribed, could last almost forever. Er, it would be best if the glass were to be put back outside again shortly, before it crumbles into sand and makes a mess."
OOC: the many and varied uses of prestidigitation, and light
Rae ArdGaoth
Explorer
Gram delicately takes the sheet of glass in his hands and examines the crude writing. He nods approvingly, "Clever, Conuld. It's the light that clinches it, with these glass works of art it's tough to work out the etchings sometimes, but with this light... Clever! I think you may have something here. And you wizards never cease to amaze me with your tricks, however temporary they may be." He gently returns the glass back to Conuld.
AGFlynn
First Post
Rae ArdGaoth said:
Cludge returns Gram's interested gaze, taking in the strange garb, the strange way of speaking. He describes his family - mother, father, brother - but seems uneasy to discuss any more than names and ages. He chuckles when asked about the nature of mountain caverns.
Oh, aye it drips all right - but only when we wants it to. Y'see, we shapes the stone. It's our home, the bone t' our gristle and meat. It pertects us an' we pertect it. Why, if ye could see Stonepike Manse with the last light o' the day driftin' in through the cunnin' shafts what work through tha heart o' the mountain -- all gold 'n red an glorious -- ye'd never want ta leave. Cludge gets a faraway, dreamy look in his eyes. No, never, he says softly.
Rae ArdGaoth
Explorer
OOC: Somehow, I got it into my head that Phyrah is the God of Wind, not Halor, and it's proving to be a difficult 'fact' to kick. Any time I've said "Phyrah" in this adventure, I probably meant Halor. Sorry to confuse you so.
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