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True20 Al-Qadim: Zakharan Nights (updated 6/21/06)
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<blockquote data-quote="The Shadow" data-source="post: 2588850" data-attributes="member: 16760"><p><strong>Handout: Mamoun's Tale</strong></p><p></p><p>[Our most generous Narrator tries to give out at least one handout after each session. This was the first of them.]</p><p></p><p>Mamoun ibn Khaldoun ibn Batuta ibn Naskir, keeper of the caravanserai at Zarif, reclined in the courtyard giving his blessing to the trio who had saved his life and broken his curse.</p><p></p><p>“Oh auspicious travelers, my story is the story of my step-father, and how I escaped from the wickedness that consumed his heart. My great-grandfather Naskir carried on a tradition of tending to holy sites. My grandfather Batuta broke this family tradition to take over this caravanserai for a wounded friend; when his friend passed away, Batuta became the caravanserai’s master. When Batuta (may he rest in peace) was lost in a sandstorm, the caravanserai passed to my uncle Metef. Later, his brother Khaldoun arrived with his pregnant wife after falling on hard times, and Metef welcomed them in. After a violent argument with my father, Metef cursed his name. To Metef’s horror, the next day my father was found dead in his bed. Obligated to take care of Khaldoun’s pregnant wife, Metef married her after the mourning period passed and became my step-father. This loss was too much for Metef to bear, and he became possessed by the idea that his family was cursed. Metef began gleaning bits of mystic lore from passersby – Magians, hakimas, kheri-hebu, even sha’ir. Metef learned that it was not his family, but the caravanserai that was cursed. During my youth, I remember Metef cursing many travelers, hoping through his diabolic experimentation to find a way to dispel the caravanserai’s curse. Over the years, the caravanserai became considered a place of bad luck, and only a sandstorm or utter lack of supplies could force a caravan to rest in Zarif. I was often at odds with my step-father, though I never had the courage to denounce his wicked ways, for I was just a boy.</p><p></p><p>“Oh how history repeats itself! One night a sandstorm forced many to seek shelter. Then there came a pounding on the caravanserai gates, a traveler pleading for shelter. Convinced it was the wicked shaitan who cursed the caravanserai, Metef forbade any from opening the gates. My young friend Shuri (the guard you rescued) and I fought our way past Metef’s guards to open the gate. There we found a dying Persian with strange wounds on his back. The man died in my arms uttering the words ‘sanctuary.’ Metef swore the wounds were from a djinni’s claws, and that I had nearly destroyed the entire caravan. I nearly struck my step-father where he stood, but my dear mother tempered my rage. That night, Metef secretly cursed me, and when my mother learned of Metef’s wicked act she died on the spot. For eight months I wandered the desert, always near death, never accepted in any place as a man, turned away like a dog. And so I was driven to the brink of madness…until you saved me. And for that, oh noble hearts, I am truly grateful.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="The Shadow, post: 2588850, member: 16760"] [b]Handout: Mamoun's Tale[/b] [Our most generous Narrator tries to give out at least one handout after each session. This was the first of them.] Mamoun ibn Khaldoun ibn Batuta ibn Naskir, keeper of the caravanserai at Zarif, reclined in the courtyard giving his blessing to the trio who had saved his life and broken his curse. “Oh auspicious travelers, my story is the story of my step-father, and how I escaped from the wickedness that consumed his heart. My great-grandfather Naskir carried on a tradition of tending to holy sites. My grandfather Batuta broke this family tradition to take over this caravanserai for a wounded friend; when his friend passed away, Batuta became the caravanserai’s master. When Batuta (may he rest in peace) was lost in a sandstorm, the caravanserai passed to my uncle Metef. Later, his brother Khaldoun arrived with his pregnant wife after falling on hard times, and Metef welcomed them in. After a violent argument with my father, Metef cursed his name. To Metef’s horror, the next day my father was found dead in his bed. Obligated to take care of Khaldoun’s pregnant wife, Metef married her after the mourning period passed and became my step-father. This loss was too much for Metef to bear, and he became possessed by the idea that his family was cursed. Metef began gleaning bits of mystic lore from passersby – Magians, hakimas, kheri-hebu, even sha’ir. Metef learned that it was not his family, but the caravanserai that was cursed. During my youth, I remember Metef cursing many travelers, hoping through his diabolic experimentation to find a way to dispel the caravanserai’s curse. Over the years, the caravanserai became considered a place of bad luck, and only a sandstorm or utter lack of supplies could force a caravan to rest in Zarif. I was often at odds with my step-father, though I never had the courage to denounce his wicked ways, for I was just a boy. “Oh how history repeats itself! One night a sandstorm forced many to seek shelter. Then there came a pounding on the caravanserai gates, a traveler pleading for shelter. Convinced it was the wicked shaitan who cursed the caravanserai, Metef forbade any from opening the gates. My young friend Shuri (the guard you rescued) and I fought our way past Metef’s guards to open the gate. There we found a dying Persian with strange wounds on his back. The man died in my arms uttering the words ‘sanctuary.’ Metef swore the wounds were from a djinni’s claws, and that I had nearly destroyed the entire caravan. I nearly struck my step-father where he stood, but my dear mother tempered my rage. That night, Metef secretly cursed me, and when my mother learned of Metef’s wicked act she died on the spot. For eight months I wandered the desert, always near death, never accepted in any place as a man, turned away like a dog. And so I was driven to the brink of madness…until you saved me. And for that, oh noble hearts, I am truly grateful.” [/QUOTE]
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True20 Al-Qadim: Zakharan Nights (updated 6/21/06)
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