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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: 6378828" data-attributes="member: 16760"><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Rain fell on the canvas above as I heard the name I was given at birth. Shuri, son of House Razan. The words resonated in my inner ear as loud as the words of my kinfolk when I was exiled, but this was a calling back, not a separation. It was a remembering and a birth through the waters of creation. Until that day I had lived in fear of magic, but Abdul al-Jann had put a wedge of doubt in my mind. Could good come from a sorcerer's hand?</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> The answer was a resounding "yes."</p><p></p><p>Abdul slumps under the burden of the magic, but his face is filled with triumph. "Never underestimate a scholar's 'tricks' or the grace of God, R'Akibum!"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Gaping in awe at the display before him, Ashquar stared wide-eyed at Abdul's God-given language, and the sudden sharpening of Shuri's eyes. Supporting Fatima bint-Jamul in one arm, Shuri glares at R'Akibum, "Give me the box or so help me, I'll send you to the afterlife."</p><p></p><p>Abdul leans against the wall, his face haggard, but his eyes remain fixed on the geomancer. "What shall it be now, hmm?"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> R'Akibum flinches, his thick fingers tightening around his cudgel. "In all the hells of Aksum, the foulest is reserved for meddlers! Trickster scholar, you test the limits of patience!" raves R'Akibum, his hair leaping wildly about him as he works himself into a frenzy. "What do you know? Who is your mother?" Spitting on the ground, he gets so red Abdul can make out steam rising from his back where the rain strikes! </p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Shuri inches toward Abdul, positioning himself to defend the "trickster scholar" should R'Akibum try anything.</p><p></p><p><strong>Abdul:</strong> “A meddler, am I? It takes one, as they say, to know! As for my mother, if you know truthfully who she is, I should be obliged if you told me! Go, R'Akibum. There is nothing more for you here.”</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Grabbing the chest from the camel, R'Akibum throws it to the ground in front of him, uttering foul curses. "Blackest of birds! This is your doing!" Heaving the chest into the air he brings it smashing into the alleyway wall with all his might.</p><p></p><p>Abdul lurches fully upright from the wall, eyes widening as the chest falls. "Fool of a Maghrebi!"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Stronger than he appears, R'Akibum bashes the chest against a sharp rock jutting from the wall, sending pieces of wood flying past Abdul and Shuri. As the box shatters, the raven Metef bursts forth, ominous black clouds tearing the rest of the box apart in R'Akibum's hands. Enraged, R'Akibum throws the handle of the box to the ground and lunges for the raven. "You will tell me or I'll strangle you to death!"</p><p></p><p>Abdul makes quick passes with his hands in the air in front of him, ‘drawing’ an arcane sigil. "Fajhoul, come ready!"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> A blinding flash fills the alley as R'Akibum grapples the slippery raven Metef in all his hideous glory. Shuri pulls Fatima to the ground, shielding her from whatever may come. Ashquar has grown terrified out of his wits and darts down the nearest alleyway. Steam becomes light, light becomes air, air becomes thunder. A blast of wind rushes down the alleyway and Fajhoul appears hovering off the ground, scimitar in hand. "Behold, I am Fajhoul, 13th son of Khedive Shisas! Tremble and recognize your doom!"</p><p></p><p><strong>Abdul:</strong> "My lord, that raven is a wicked sorcerer who must not escape us! As for this man," he indicates R'Akibum, "He also is a sorcerer, who seeks the raven's death and must not have it!"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> "My ill dressed Abdul, the raven shall not have death today, yet neither shall he get away!" Flying high into the sky, Fajhoul gestures to the clouds, drawing on strong winds which drive back Metef and prevent him from flying above the alleyway. Shuri clutches Fatima, uttering a prayer with his eyes clenched shut. R'Akibum has lost his grip on Metef, who gets knocked into the wall by Fajhoul's winds. The raven Metef flaps around awkwardly, trying to get its bearing and fight the wind.</p><p></p><p>Abdul laughs wildly as tension is released. Raised in Jinnistan, he cannot but glory in the stylish display of power... "Is it not said that clothes do not make the man, my lord? Oh, bravely done!"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Fajhoul's winds cause the canvas tarps above to come loose, sending a sheet of water cascading between Abdul and the grappling sorcerers.</p><p></p><p><strong>Abdul:</strong> "It is over, R'Akibum! Bow your head before the will of God and leave us now!"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> "Djinni be damned!" yells R'Akibum. Abdul sees the Maghrebi gesture overhead.</p><p></p><p>Abdul sighs sadly, his hand dipping into a fold of his rags and emerging with a knife. "So be it!" His face still looks haggard and drawn.</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Laughing like the wind over the minarets, Fajhoul drops down on to R'Akibum. No sooner than Fajhoul makes to grab him than Fajhoul cries out. Abdul feels his skin crawl and begins to make out the images of tortured spirits in the falling water, glimpses of shadows in the corner of his eye. Fajhoul backs away from R'Akibum, dropping into a defensive stance.</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> The raven Metef, freed from the chest which had been his cell for the last four nights, finds shelter from the winds in a crack in the alleyway wall.</p><p></p><p>Abdul's eyes widen at this turn of events in alarm. Suddenly, the Providence of God directs his eyes to the silk rope that had tied the chest, coiled randomly upon the street.</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> R'Akibum seems to be attacking something invisible nearby him in a rage, yelling out loud, "By Chango, once I get you Metef, there'll be no place for you to hide." He swipes to the left and to the right with his cudgel.</p><p></p><p>Abdul lunges for the silken Ittifaqi Hasanah, crying out in the language of jinni, "My lord, catch up this rope with your winds and wind it about the sorcerer!" He tosses the rope into the air.</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> The sash travels through the air into Fajhoul's free hand. "Which sorcerer?" shouts Fajhoul, his eyes darting back and forth in fear.</p><p></p><p>Abdul points at R'Akibum. "HIM! I will deal with Metef!"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Ittifaqi Hasanah flies through the air as Fajhoul casts it before him, colorful silks whirling about R'Akibum. Crying out, R'Akibum strains against the silks which bind him fast. The growling shadows vanish as quickly as they came, though Fajhoul does not seem to be much comforted by this turn of events, and he levels his scimitar between R'Akibum's eyes. "Surrender or see how much of a damned jinn I can be."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Fajhoul draws menacingly close to R'Akibum, who seems to be terrified out of his wits by the djinni's threat. "Powerful and mighty djinn, have mercy!" cries R'Akibum. </p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Metef squirms deeper into the crack.</p><p></p><p>Abdul makes his way to the crack. "Hear me, Metef. It is my mercy or R'Akibum's, and I think you already know which one is tenderer! Or, if you must fight rather than face justice, consider that while you may be able to overcome the defenses of a sha'ir, so also I grew up catching pigeons for my supper. Do you care to chance that a raven will do better in these winds?"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> The raven is so far in the darkness that the only sign of him is the glint in his beady eyes. His croaking voice answers Abdul, "Seeking justice before the scales are weighed, are you? If you would eat me completely, then you are twice a fool. Once for treating me as a mere pigeon, and twice for not looking to your servant!"</p><p></p><p>Abdul sighs. "If you bind Fajhoul, I will loose R'Akibum. How is that an improvement for you, eh? I do not desire your death, Metef, whatever you may think. I want justice - but I cannot let you fly free, either. Will you not surrender? There has been enough tonight for us all."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> "I appreciate your sentiment, sha'ir, but find the prospect of a qadi cutting off my tongue unattractive. However, R'Akibum has stolen a talisman important to Zarif, and since he found me and Shuri I have been trying to goad the information from him. As you can see, he has a tendency for losing his cool. Might I suggest a compromise? Allow me to 'escape' so that I may learn where the talisman is buried and then I shall consent to the qadi's justice."</p><p></p><p>Abdul weighs that. "Loose Fajhoul as a sign of your good will, and I agree."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> The raven's eyes seem to grow small for a moment, the darkness around it separating. All at once Fajhoul, who had adopted a fiercely threatening stance toward R'Akibum, becomes much more carefree. Jesting, he wags his finger before the bound geomancer. "For someone who seems to hate spirits so much you keep odd company."</p><p></p><p>Abdul calls out warily in Jinnti, "Is all well with you, my lord?"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> "I should very much like to cook that raven, but I am fully myself, every bit your superior, young Abdul," responds Fajhoul.</p><p></p><p>Abdul chuckles faintly. "I would not dream of doubting you, good my lord." He steps away from the hole. "The raven and I have a bargain. For now. Stay wary; we need information from this other sorcerer."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> "He seems like a surpassing bore to me, but I refrain from laying a hand on him. Both seem to be skilled with hexes. So what don't you want them to know such that we speak in the True Tongue?" inquires Fajhoul, circling the bound R'Akibum, scimitar still in hand.</p><p></p><p>Abdul bows a sweeping, courtly bow to the hole, his eyes blank. "Come forward and give your commands, O my master."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Pausing behind R'Akibum, Fajhoul muses, "All creatures have a gift, and it would seem this one's is cursing, whether it is in word or spell."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Metef tentatively hops forward, keeping a wary eye on Shuri, who is looking up at Abdul in amazement and dismay.</p><p></p><p>Abdul winks at Shuri from an angle R'Akibum can't see, as he holds out a hand for Metef to perch upon.</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Metef emerges from the hole, "You have done well, my apprentice," says Metef, taking Abdul's offered arm. </p><p></p><p>Abdul blankly bears the bird of ill omen toward the bound geomancer, his posture stiff and courteous.</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> R'Akibum gapes in disbelief. "Impossible! You a servant of this foulest of birds?"</p><p></p><p>Abdul says placidly, "I have only just now been enlightened to the truth and goodness of my master, sir. I obey him in all things. You would be wise to do the same."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> "Ah, more of your mind trick mojo, eh Metef?" inquires R'Akibum cannily. "But there is a wind that serves the man who serves the bird. And I have made it a cursed wind. If I do not release your servant then he shall perish before a fortnight. Are you more inclined to question your loyalties now, you trickster scholar?"</p><p></p><p><strong>Abdul:</strong> "I, have a servant? I who am but a slave? I do not understand. But be silent and listen to what the great Metef would say to you."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Staring into R'Akibum's eyes, Metef the raven croaks, "Look at me and tell me your secrets R'Akibum. Tell me of the emerald talisman, tell me of your betrayal..."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> R'Akibum squirms as the muscles in his forehead spasm and he begins to breathe heavily. "Damnable....bird....gah!"</p><p></p><p>Abdul waits patiently, but his eyes take in everything that occurs.</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Abdul notices that Metef makes a great effort to build up his magic before he actually uses it, possibly a sign of arrogance, but possibly something else. Suddenly, a spasm shakes R'Akibum's entire body. "Ah yes, tell me more, my Maghrebi..." R'Akibum mouths the words "Al-Akara...Weeping Shrine."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> "As I suspected..." says Metef, the tension of the psychic struggle ending. R'Akibum simmers in silence, a look of utter defeat coming upon his face.</p><p></p><p><strong>Abdul:</strong> "What have you learned, O my master?"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> "The talisman is buried in the Weeping Shrine of the Al-Akara Mountains," says Metef in a measured voice. "Weak minds yield to those of us with the will, is it not so, Abdul?" Metef looks at Abdul with a menacing light in his beady eyes.</p><p></p><p>Abdul meets the bird's eyes unflinchingly. "I would not know."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Metef chirps to himself. "Not yet, perhaps."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> "Forgive me, effulgent and poorly-dressed one," says Fajhoul in Jinnti, "but my father beckons me in the style he is most wont to - that is, angrily. Have you any more need of me to dangle a sorcerer from a minaret? Or perhaps to give you fashion tips?" he adds jovially. Fajhoul appears to be in his element when in a struggle or battle of some kind, and with the conflict's resolution comes his nonchalant and perpetually bored demeanor.</p><p></p><p>Abdul replies in the same language, "If you can stay but a little longer, it would be well, my lord. Tell me, does this one speak true of the curse, or does he lie to save his skin?"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> "Alas, every word of it is true," says Fajhoul, though there is a look of adventure in his eyes. A far cry from the uncharacteristic terror Abdul had seen just moments before. "A curse in the hands of spirits of the jungles of Nog the likes of which I have never seen."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> <em>It is common parlance among adepts and those who know about curses to describe a curse as having an owner. Typically this refers to the adept who inflicted the curse, but it may also refer to a person who accidentally brought a curse down on themself or somebody else through their arrogance.</em></p><p></p><p>Abdul's demeanor changes and he tells R'Akibum, "You have erred in one important respect, R'Akibum. Well, several, truly, but one that is most vital to your welfare at the moment."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator: </strong>"Was it my hiring you as a guide, trickster scholar?" asks R'Akibum sardonically.</p><p></p><p><strong>Abdul:</strong> "No, you have erred in describing Lord Fajhoul as my servant. I have no hold over him save old acquaintance. So you see, since you have cursed him to death, I have no means at all in preventing him from turning the tables. Have you ever been to Ghulistan, R'Akibum? Or perhaps the hidden cities of the shaitan and the deevs?"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> "Do you think I'm an idiot, whatever your name is - Abdul?" asks R'Akibum angrily. "I have made a gift of his curse to the Three Sisters of Nog, who hold the tail of his curse now. Only I know how to find their ancestral dwelling place, and so, that djinni devil has nothing to gain by killing me, and much to lose."</p><p></p><p>Abdul reminds him gently, "You have said that you have the power to release him. Do so, and I am sure he will show the mercy for which his family is most renowned. Is it not so, my lord?"</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> Fajhoul leans over to Abdul, whispering in Jinnti. "You know all too well my father's 'mercy.' I fear he was merely bluffing before. Though I know little of such things, I saw the spirits for a moment."</p><p></p><p><strong>Narrator:</strong> R'Akibum glares at Abdul, "Do you know nothing of the foundations of the art, you who break a curse with a word? His curse is no longer mine to lift."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="The Shadow, post: 6378828, member: 16760"] [B]Narrator:[/B] Rain fell on the canvas above as I heard the name I was given at birth. Shuri, son of House Razan. The words resonated in my inner ear as loud as the words of my kinfolk when I was exiled, but this was a calling back, not a separation. It was a remembering and a birth through the waters of creation. Until that day I had lived in fear of magic, but Abdul al-Jann had put a wedge of doubt in my mind. Could good come from a sorcerer's hand? [B]Narrator:[/B] The answer was a resounding "yes." Abdul slumps under the burden of the magic, but his face is filled with triumph. "Never underestimate a scholar's 'tricks' or the grace of God, R'Akibum!" [B]Narrator:[/B] Gaping in awe at the display before him, Ashquar stared wide-eyed at Abdul's God-given language, and the sudden sharpening of Shuri's eyes. Supporting Fatima bint-Jamul in one arm, Shuri glares at R'Akibum, "Give me the box or so help me, I'll send you to the afterlife." Abdul leans against the wall, his face haggard, but his eyes remain fixed on the geomancer. "What shall it be now, hmm?" [B]Narrator:[/B] R'Akibum flinches, his thick fingers tightening around his cudgel. "In all the hells of Aksum, the foulest is reserved for meddlers! Trickster scholar, you test the limits of patience!" raves R'Akibum, his hair leaping wildly about him as he works himself into a frenzy. "What do you know? Who is your mother?" Spitting on the ground, he gets so red Abdul can make out steam rising from his back where the rain strikes! [B]Narrator:[/B] Shuri inches toward Abdul, positioning himself to defend the "trickster scholar" should R'Akibum try anything. [B]Abdul:[/B] “A meddler, am I? It takes one, as they say, to know! As for my mother, if you know truthfully who she is, I should be obliged if you told me! Go, R'Akibum. There is nothing more for you here.” [B]Narrator:[/B] Grabbing the chest from the camel, R'Akibum throws it to the ground in front of him, uttering foul curses. "Blackest of birds! This is your doing!" Heaving the chest into the air he brings it smashing into the alleyway wall with all his might. Abdul lurches fully upright from the wall, eyes widening as the chest falls. "Fool of a Maghrebi!" [B]Narrator:[/B] Stronger than he appears, R'Akibum bashes the chest against a sharp rock jutting from the wall, sending pieces of wood flying past Abdul and Shuri. As the box shatters, the raven Metef bursts forth, ominous black clouds tearing the rest of the box apart in R'Akibum's hands. Enraged, R'Akibum throws the handle of the box to the ground and lunges for the raven. "You will tell me or I'll strangle you to death!" Abdul makes quick passes with his hands in the air in front of him, ‘drawing’ an arcane sigil. "Fajhoul, come ready!" [B]Narrator:[/B] A blinding flash fills the alley as R'Akibum grapples the slippery raven Metef in all his hideous glory. Shuri pulls Fatima to the ground, shielding her from whatever may come. Ashquar has grown terrified out of his wits and darts down the nearest alleyway. Steam becomes light, light becomes air, air becomes thunder. A blast of wind rushes down the alleyway and Fajhoul appears hovering off the ground, scimitar in hand. "Behold, I am Fajhoul, 13th son of Khedive Shisas! Tremble and recognize your doom!" [B]Abdul:[/B] "My lord, that raven is a wicked sorcerer who must not escape us! As for this man," he indicates R'Akibum, "He also is a sorcerer, who seeks the raven's death and must not have it!" [B]Narrator:[/B] "My ill dressed Abdul, the raven shall not have death today, yet neither shall he get away!" Flying high into the sky, Fajhoul gestures to the clouds, drawing on strong winds which drive back Metef and prevent him from flying above the alleyway. Shuri clutches Fatima, uttering a prayer with his eyes clenched shut. R'Akibum has lost his grip on Metef, who gets knocked into the wall by Fajhoul's winds. The raven Metef flaps around awkwardly, trying to get its bearing and fight the wind. Abdul laughs wildly as tension is released. Raised in Jinnistan, he cannot but glory in the stylish display of power... "Is it not said that clothes do not make the man, my lord? Oh, bravely done!" [B]Narrator:[/B] Fajhoul's winds cause the canvas tarps above to come loose, sending a sheet of water cascading between Abdul and the grappling sorcerers. [B]Abdul:[/B] "It is over, R'Akibum! Bow your head before the will of God and leave us now!" [B]Narrator:[/B] "Djinni be damned!" yells R'Akibum. Abdul sees the Maghrebi gesture overhead. Abdul sighs sadly, his hand dipping into a fold of his rags and emerging with a knife. "So be it!" His face still looks haggard and drawn. [B]Narrator:[/B] Laughing like the wind over the minarets, Fajhoul drops down on to R'Akibum. No sooner than Fajhoul makes to grab him than Fajhoul cries out. Abdul feels his skin crawl and begins to make out the images of tortured spirits in the falling water, glimpses of shadows in the corner of his eye. Fajhoul backs away from R'Akibum, dropping into a defensive stance. [B]Narrator:[/B] The raven Metef, freed from the chest which had been his cell for the last four nights, finds shelter from the winds in a crack in the alleyway wall. Abdul's eyes widen at this turn of events in alarm. Suddenly, the Providence of God directs his eyes to the silk rope that had tied the chest, coiled randomly upon the street. [B]Narrator:[/B] R'Akibum seems to be attacking something invisible nearby him in a rage, yelling out loud, "By Chango, once I get you Metef, there'll be no place for you to hide." He swipes to the left and to the right with his cudgel. Abdul lunges for the silken Ittifaqi Hasanah, crying out in the language of jinni, "My lord, catch up this rope with your winds and wind it about the sorcerer!" He tosses the rope into the air. [B]Narrator:[/B] The sash travels through the air into Fajhoul's free hand. "Which sorcerer?" shouts Fajhoul, his eyes darting back and forth in fear. Abdul points at R'Akibum. "HIM! I will deal with Metef!" [B]Narrator:[/B] Ittifaqi Hasanah flies through the air as Fajhoul casts it before him, colorful silks whirling about R'Akibum. Crying out, R'Akibum strains against the silks which bind him fast. The growling shadows vanish as quickly as they came, though Fajhoul does not seem to be much comforted by this turn of events, and he levels his scimitar between R'Akibum's eyes. "Surrender or see how much of a damned jinn I can be." [B]Narrator:[/B] Fajhoul draws menacingly close to R'Akibum, who seems to be terrified out of his wits by the djinni's threat. "Powerful and mighty djinn, have mercy!" cries R'Akibum. [B]Narrator:[/B] Metef squirms deeper into the crack. Abdul makes his way to the crack. "Hear me, Metef. It is my mercy or R'Akibum's, and I think you already know which one is tenderer! Or, if you must fight rather than face justice, consider that while you may be able to overcome the defenses of a sha'ir, so also I grew up catching pigeons for my supper. Do you care to chance that a raven will do better in these winds?" [B]Narrator:[/B] The raven is so far in the darkness that the only sign of him is the glint in his beady eyes. His croaking voice answers Abdul, "Seeking justice before the scales are weighed, are you? If you would eat me completely, then you are twice a fool. Once for treating me as a mere pigeon, and twice for not looking to your servant!" Abdul sighs. "If you bind Fajhoul, I will loose R'Akibum. How is that an improvement for you, eh? I do not desire your death, Metef, whatever you may think. I want justice - but I cannot let you fly free, either. Will you not surrender? There has been enough tonight for us all." [B]Narrator:[/B] "I appreciate your sentiment, sha'ir, but find the prospect of a qadi cutting off my tongue unattractive. However, R'Akibum has stolen a talisman important to Zarif, and since he found me and Shuri I have been trying to goad the information from him. As you can see, he has a tendency for losing his cool. Might I suggest a compromise? Allow me to 'escape' so that I may learn where the talisman is buried and then I shall consent to the qadi's justice." Abdul weighs that. "Loose Fajhoul as a sign of your good will, and I agree." [B]Narrator:[/B] The raven's eyes seem to grow small for a moment, the darkness around it separating. All at once Fajhoul, who had adopted a fiercely threatening stance toward R'Akibum, becomes much more carefree. Jesting, he wags his finger before the bound geomancer. "For someone who seems to hate spirits so much you keep odd company." Abdul calls out warily in Jinnti, "Is all well with you, my lord?" [B]Narrator:[/B] "I should very much like to cook that raven, but I am fully myself, every bit your superior, young Abdul," responds Fajhoul. Abdul chuckles faintly. "I would not dream of doubting you, good my lord." He steps away from the hole. "The raven and I have a bargain. For now. Stay wary; we need information from this other sorcerer." [B]Narrator:[/B] "He seems like a surpassing bore to me, but I refrain from laying a hand on him. Both seem to be skilled with hexes. So what don't you want them to know such that we speak in the True Tongue?" inquires Fajhoul, circling the bound R'Akibum, scimitar still in hand. Abdul bows a sweeping, courtly bow to the hole, his eyes blank. "Come forward and give your commands, O my master." [B]Narrator:[/B] Pausing behind R'Akibum, Fajhoul muses, "All creatures have a gift, and it would seem this one's is cursing, whether it is in word or spell." [B]Narrator:[/B] Metef tentatively hops forward, keeping a wary eye on Shuri, who is looking up at Abdul in amazement and dismay. Abdul winks at Shuri from an angle R'Akibum can't see, as he holds out a hand for Metef to perch upon. [B]Narrator:[/B] Metef emerges from the hole, "You have done well, my apprentice," says Metef, taking Abdul's offered arm. Abdul blankly bears the bird of ill omen toward the bound geomancer, his posture stiff and courteous. [B]Narrator:[/B] R'Akibum gapes in disbelief. "Impossible! You a servant of this foulest of birds?" Abdul says placidly, "I have only just now been enlightened to the truth and goodness of my master, sir. I obey him in all things. You would be wise to do the same." [B]Narrator:[/B] "Ah, more of your mind trick mojo, eh Metef?" inquires R'Akibum cannily. "But there is a wind that serves the man who serves the bird. And I have made it a cursed wind. If I do not release your servant then he shall perish before a fortnight. Are you more inclined to question your loyalties now, you trickster scholar?" [B]Abdul:[/B] "I, have a servant? I who am but a slave? I do not understand. But be silent and listen to what the great Metef would say to you." [B]Narrator:[/B] Staring into R'Akibum's eyes, Metef the raven croaks, "Look at me and tell me your secrets R'Akibum. Tell me of the emerald talisman, tell me of your betrayal..." [B]Narrator:[/B] R'Akibum squirms as the muscles in his forehead spasm and he begins to breathe heavily. "Damnable....bird....gah!" Abdul waits patiently, but his eyes take in everything that occurs. [B]Narrator:[/B] Abdul notices that Metef makes a great effort to build up his magic before he actually uses it, possibly a sign of arrogance, but possibly something else. Suddenly, a spasm shakes R'Akibum's entire body. "Ah yes, tell me more, my Maghrebi..." R'Akibum mouths the words "Al-Akara...Weeping Shrine." [B]Narrator:[/B] "As I suspected..." says Metef, the tension of the psychic struggle ending. R'Akibum simmers in silence, a look of utter defeat coming upon his face. [B]Abdul:[/B] "What have you learned, O my master?" [B]Narrator:[/B] "The talisman is buried in the Weeping Shrine of the Al-Akara Mountains," says Metef in a measured voice. "Weak minds yield to those of us with the will, is it not so, Abdul?" Metef looks at Abdul with a menacing light in his beady eyes. Abdul meets the bird's eyes unflinchingly. "I would not know." [B]Narrator:[/B] Metef chirps to himself. "Not yet, perhaps." [B]Narrator:[/B] "Forgive me, effulgent and poorly-dressed one," says Fajhoul in Jinnti, "but my father beckons me in the style he is most wont to - that is, angrily. Have you any more need of me to dangle a sorcerer from a minaret? Or perhaps to give you fashion tips?" he adds jovially. Fajhoul appears to be in his element when in a struggle or battle of some kind, and with the conflict's resolution comes his nonchalant and perpetually bored demeanor. Abdul replies in the same language, "If you can stay but a little longer, it would be well, my lord. Tell me, does this one speak true of the curse, or does he lie to save his skin?" [B]Narrator:[/B] "Alas, every word of it is true," says Fajhoul, though there is a look of adventure in his eyes. A far cry from the uncharacteristic terror Abdul had seen just moments before. "A curse in the hands of spirits of the jungles of Nog the likes of which I have never seen." [B]Narrator:[/B] [i]It is common parlance among adepts and those who know about curses to describe a curse as having an owner. Typically this refers to the adept who inflicted the curse, but it may also refer to a person who accidentally brought a curse down on themself or somebody else through their arrogance.[/i] Abdul's demeanor changes and he tells R'Akibum, "You have erred in one important respect, R'Akibum. Well, several, truly, but one that is most vital to your welfare at the moment." [B]Narrator: [/B]"Was it my hiring you as a guide, trickster scholar?" asks R'Akibum sardonically. [B]Abdul:[/B] "No, you have erred in describing Lord Fajhoul as my servant. I have no hold over him save old acquaintance. So you see, since you have cursed him to death, I have no means at all in preventing him from turning the tables. Have you ever been to Ghulistan, R'Akibum? Or perhaps the hidden cities of the shaitan and the deevs?" [B]Narrator:[/B] "Do you think I'm an idiot, whatever your name is - Abdul?" asks R'Akibum angrily. "I have made a gift of his curse to the Three Sisters of Nog, who hold the tail of his curse now. Only I know how to find their ancestral dwelling place, and so, that djinni devil has nothing to gain by killing me, and much to lose." Abdul reminds him gently, "You have said that you have the power to release him. Do so, and I am sure he will show the mercy for which his family is most renowned. Is it not so, my lord?" [B]Narrator:[/B] Fajhoul leans over to Abdul, whispering in Jinnti. "You know all too well my father's 'mercy.' I fear he was merely bluffing before. Though I know little of such things, I saw the spirits for a moment." [B]Narrator:[/B] R'Akibum glares at Abdul, "Do you know nothing of the foundations of the art, you who break a curse with a word? His curse is no longer mine to lift." [/QUOTE]
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True20 Al-Qadim: Zakharan Nights (updated 6/21/06)
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