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<blockquote data-quote="Quickleaf" data-source="post: 7182940" data-attributes="member: 20323"><p>Na'im wears the shoes of an older brother well, keeping in check his exuberance at seeing the sack filled with toys and curios offered by Lal Qalandar, attempting to survey it with the practiced eye of a hardened desert trader. It must be an expression the boy learned from an uncle or father. <strong>"It's a...slug...man?"</strong> Reaching out hesitantly, Na'im catches himself and purses his lips. <strong>"Well, I can puff a pipe like this and no one needs to turn a key in me. It is... fancy."</strong> He quickly adds, not wanting to offend the gift-giver. <strong>"Thank you, I- my younger brother Naji will enjoy playing with it."</strong></p><p></p><p>Veering right at an intersection, Na'im leads you through a wending passage into a cavern lit by similar bronze lanterns that has been adorned like a common room, with several cots, a wide carpet strewn with pillows, a tarnished silver pitcher of tea, even a makeshift hammock slung between two boulders. Pots and pans and drying clothes hang from lines stretched across the cavern. Na'im, still unable to take his eyes away from the wonders Lal brought from the Purple Lands, tugs silently at the hem of his mother's skirt.</p><p></p><p>[SECTION][align=left]http://i.imgur.com/WGHPLiw.png[/align]A stout woman with tired eyes yet a smile so benign it is either purely genuine or expertly practice rises with an effort from the clothes she was washing. <strong>"Where did you get–"</strong> Eyes going wide upon seeing your assemblage enter the room, it takes the matron a moment to realize that you're no threat. <strong>"I see Usqual brings guests. I am Hadia al-Sarraf, keeper of what's left,"</strong> she says sucking in her cheek, using humor to sweeten the salt of her loss. <strong>"Welcome to the caravanserai. Naji! Naji! Pour these travelers some tea. Under whose flag do you come to Hakim Oasis?"</strong></p><p></p><p>She claps her hands to summon her younger son, a tousle-haired boy of 10 or 11 who comes scampering down through a nearly vertical shaft that must lead to the top of the rock escarpment. Immediately, he is distracted by your party and then by eagerly talking with his brother about the clockwork slug-man and other toys. Only after his mother chastises him and calls again does Naji lift the massive tea kettle, pouring it skillfully into glasses of varying sizes and coloration; the steaming tea smells of potent anise, cardamom, hibiscus, and cinnamon.</p><p></p><p>Hadia makes a point of gesturing to pillows arranged in a semi-circle on the floor, glancing meaningfully at Usqual as she hands him a glass of tea.</p><p> Sitting down, Hadia picks up a bowl of salt and, as is customary among desert tribes, dabs her finger in the bowl to lick a small quantity of salt, making a sour face, before passing it to Salahuddin on her left. <strong>"You've come when we have little to offer. Raiders from the Badu al-Kabir took their weight in blood and supplies, even our herds are gone now. I'm afraid I have little food to offer; our wheat stores were burned in the raid, and we were only able to save what we could carry."</strong>[/SECTION]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Quickleaf, post: 7182940, member: 20323"] Na'im wears the shoes of an older brother well, keeping in check his exuberance at seeing the sack filled with toys and curios offered by Lal Qalandar, attempting to survey it with the practiced eye of a hardened desert trader. It must be an expression the boy learned from an uncle or father. [b]"It's a...slug...man?"[/b] Reaching out hesitantly, Na'im catches himself and purses his lips. [b]"Well, I can puff a pipe like this and no one needs to turn a key in me. It is... fancy."[/b] He quickly adds, not wanting to offend the gift-giver. [b]"Thank you, I- my younger brother Naji will enjoy playing with it."[/b] Veering right at an intersection, Na'im leads you through a wending passage into a cavern lit by similar bronze lanterns that has been adorned like a common room, with several cots, a wide carpet strewn with pillows, a tarnished silver pitcher of tea, even a makeshift hammock slung between two boulders. Pots and pans and drying clothes hang from lines stretched across the cavern. Na'im, still unable to take his eyes away from the wonders Lal brought from the Purple Lands, tugs silently at the hem of his mother's skirt. [SECTION][align=left]http://i.imgur.com/WGHPLiw.png[/align]A stout woman with tired eyes yet a smile so benign it is either purely genuine or expertly practice rises with an effort from the clothes she was washing. [b]"Where did you get–"[/b] Eyes going wide upon seeing your assemblage enter the room, it takes the matron a moment to realize that you're no threat. [b]"I see Usqual brings guests. I am Hadia al-Sarraf, keeper of what's left,"[/b] she says sucking in her cheek, using humor to sweeten the salt of her loss. [b]"Welcome to the caravanserai. Naji! Naji! Pour these travelers some tea. Under whose flag do you come to Hakim Oasis?"[/b] She claps her hands to summon her younger son, a tousle-haired boy of 10 or 11 who comes scampering down through a nearly vertical shaft that must lead to the top of the rock escarpment. Immediately, he is distracted by your party and then by eagerly talking with his brother about the clockwork slug-man and other toys. Only after his mother chastises him and calls again does Naji lift the massive tea kettle, pouring it skillfully into glasses of varying sizes and coloration; the steaming tea smells of potent anise, cardamom, hibiscus, and cinnamon. Hadia makes a point of gesturing to pillows arranged in a semi-circle on the floor, glancing meaningfully at Usqual as she hands him a glass of tea. Sitting down, Hadia picks up a bowl of salt and, as is customary among desert tribes, dabs her finger in the bowl to lick a small quantity of salt, making a sour face, before passing it to Salahuddin on her left. [b]"You've come when we have little to offer. Raiders from the Badu al-Kabir took their weight in blood and supplies, even our herds are gone now. I'm afraid I have little food to offer; our wheat stores were burned in the raid, and we were only able to save what we could carry."[/b][/SECTION] [/QUOTE]
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