5E Al-Qadim Moving Through the Flame

GM: As I noticed the notifications seem not to be working again, I wanted to politely page everyone [MENTION=6803188]VLAD the Destroyer[/MENTION], [MENTION=23]Ancalagon[/MENTION], [MENTION=20005]Matthan[/MENTION], [MENTION=6855204]tglassy[/MENTION], [MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION], [MENTION=6814006]Thateous[/MENTION] I believe we're waiting for VLAD? But correct me if I'm mistaken.
 

Matthan

Explorer
OOC: Still here.


Husam knew that he had been witness to something momentous, but he could not shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that there would be consequences for the bargain that had been struck. Still, he knew his place and it was not to question a Shi'ar. He would continue to wait and be ready if the situation turned, but until then, he would not interfere.
 

Ancalagon

Dusty Dragon
OOC: Get better Vlad!

Lal looked sideways at the Vizier, and suddenly was filled with doubt. Her powers of discerning the truth were a guarantor of this exchange... but were they? He had met philosophers that had found ways of telling lies with truth - the words were true, but they deceived the listener nevertheless. Would her powers pierce through such subtle lies?

His glance slid over to Husam - well at least the both of them were ready for physical threats... but that may not be the true danger here.
 
Salahuddin had expected some complicated ritual to free the Al-Aeshma. But what the Al-Aeshma said made some sense. If a Sha'ir was needed to free them then the words would need to come from the heart. Salahuddin turns to the two whirlwinds that separated from the others. He would need a good look at those he is to pardon before he could speak those words.

"Ashtigal and Yehiena please come closer and reveal yourselves. If I am to speak words of pardon from my heart I will need to look on your magnificence."
 
Salahuddin had expected some complicated ritual to free the Al-Aeshma. But what the Al-Aeshma said made some sense. If a Sha'ir was needed to free them then the words would need to come from the heart. Salahuddin turns to the two whirlwinds that separated from the others. He would need a good look at those he is to pardon before he could speak those words.

"Ashtigal and Yehiena please come closer and reveal yourselves. If I am to speak words of pardon from my heart I will need to look on your magnificence."
Upon hearing Salahuddin's bidding, and seeing the elder Al-Aeshma nod in agreement, the two whirlwinds rapidly dissolve down to the silt and sand of the wadi (dry riverbed) at the outskirts of Khaldun Oasis.

Ashtigal appears kneeling, dust whirling about his frame, legs barely visible amidst the windswept sand that shrouds his lower torso. Rising up to his full ten feet, he is a genie of fearsome aspect, with prominent horns swooping above a mane of white hair dressed with sandstorm-burnished brass braids. His skin, the color of storm clouds at sunset, appears perfectly hairless as if he were blasted by sand into a figure worthy of polished marble. Worn jewelry adorns him along with twin sashes of yellow (about his chest) and saffron (at his side). He wears a massive scimitar in a scabbard tucked into the saffron sash. Eyes blazing with the intensity of signal fires, he rumbles a greeting and bows awkwardly before your party, clearly unused to such displays, "I am Ashtigal, and I have heard your words." Looking to his left, Ashtigal grows quiet as the other whirlwind takes shape...

Yehiana takes shape more slowly, smoke rolling off her skin which is a hue like a sullen sky after storms or ash after a fire. Like her male counterpart she dresses immodestly, wearing worn silks of tarnished white and adorned with serpentine bracers and fire opal jewels. Framing her unruly black hair, which hangs down over one shoulder all the way to her waist, is an ornate headdress decorated with fangs of some massive creature and brass serpents intertwined at the headpiece. Eyes opalescent like stars or mother of pearl, she elegantly bows to your party, revealing her palms are marked with henna designs, "O Wind Called, I am Yehiana, once of the Winds of Creation. You will not regret your decision." Though she stands only eight feet tall – nearly the same height as Salahuddin's genie valet Sinjin – Yehiana possesses an air of authority nearly rivaling the elder Al-Aeshma himself.
 
Salahuddin inclines his head to the two genies. He looks over the pair trying to pick out an duplicity in their bearing. Ashtigal appeared as any Djinn warrior, intense and mighty. His awkwardness seemed genuine but could be a misdirection. The deference to Yehiana pointed to her being noble, her bearing confirming this suspicion. As Salahuddin looks them over he commits their faces to memory. With their names and having looked upon them he could call and bind them if they break his trust. When Ashtigal speaks Salahuddin gives a slight bow.

"I see you Ashtigal of the Al-Aeshma. I greet you as friend my you always find shade."

When Yehiana speaks the Sha'ir bows deeper.

"I see you Yehiana of the Al-Aeshma. I greet you as friend."

Salahuddin then begins to arrange some items on his prayer rug. He places a small bowl down in front of him. The Sha'ir scoops some sand from the ground and pours it from his hand into the bowl. He then takes out a small pouch and takes a pinch of ash and sprinkles it over the sand. Salahuddin then splashes water from his water skin into the bowl. He covers the bowl with his hand.

"In this bowl lies the earth, ash, and rain of this mortal world. These are the elements used to imprison one of the Djinn from the winds of creation by the Lords of Air. Any who have been so banished must beseech their mortal servant for forgiveness and pardon. Only then can the elemental chains be broken and their immortal being returned to the great tempest where all Djinni were born." Salahuddin shifts his eyes to Ashtigal. "You come before me seeking pardon. Speak your truename and make your plea. For the Wind Called must hear the words from your own lips as no other can speak on your behalf."
 

Ancalagon

Dusty Dragon
Lal stood impassibly, his red robes fluttering in the wind. But when he heard Salahudin's word, he felt slightly more at ease - a wise precaution.
 
Salahuddin inclines his head to the two genies. He looks over the pair trying to pick out an duplicity in their bearing. Ashtigal appeared as any Djinn warrior, intense and mighty. His awkwardness seemed genuine but could be a misdirection. The deference to Yehiana pointed to her being noble, her bearing confirming this suspicion. As Salahuddin looks them over he commits their faces to memory. With their names and having looked upon them he could call and bind them if they break his trust. When Ashtigal speaks Salahuddin gives a slight bow.

"I see you Ashtigal of the Al-Aeshma. I greet you as friend my you always find shade."

When Yehiana speaks the Sha'ir bows deeper.

"I see you Yehiana of the Al-Aeshma. I greet you as friend."

Salahuddin then begins to arrange some items on his prayer rug. He places a small bowl down in front of him. The Sha'ir scoops some sand from the ground and pours it from his hand into the bowl. He then takes out a small pouch and takes a pinch of ash and sprinkles it over the sand. Salahuddin then splashes water from his water skin into the bowl. He covers the bowl with his hand.

"In this bowl lies the earth, ash, and rain of this mortal world. These are the elements used to imprison one of the Djinn from the winds of creation by the Lords of Air. Any who have been so banished must beseech their mortal servant for forgiveness and pardon. Only then can the elemental chains be broken and their immortal being returned to the great tempest where all Djinni were born." Salahuddin shifts his eyes to Ashtigal. "You come before me seeking pardon. Speak your truename and make your plea. For the Wind Called must hear the words from your own lips as no other can speak on your behalf."
There is no questioning the sha'ir's eloquence, speaking as one who intimately understands the workings of genie culture, and even though his request for their True Names comes as a bitter wind to Ashtigal and Yehianna, they cannot dispute it. The promise of a return to their home on the Plane of Air is too great. The elder Al-Aeshma watching the ritual bows his head, a subtle sign to the other two to agree. All wind seems to have stopped in the wadi (dry riverbed) where you've made camp. It is eerily silent.

Folding her arms across her chest, it is Yehianna with her regal bearing who steps forward first. Her lips move silently, but she looks into Salahuddin's eyes and worlds of meaning are exchanged. Only Salahuddin can hear a roaring wind in his mind's ear, the fierce and imperious True Name that Yehianna was given when the world was young. It defies language and yet Salahuddin knows the female al-aeshma's True Name, hearing it echo in the chasm of his soul. Head bowed, Yehianna speaks, "Grant me your forgiveness, oh wise sha'ir, that I may seek the grace of the Lords of Air and sway their hearts." Quietly, she floats back, mastering her pride.

Begrudgingly, Ashtigal steps forward, furrowing thick brows dubiously at the sha'ir. At the last moment, he turns back to the elder Al-Aeshma with a snarl, a questioning look burned into his face. An impassive nod, motioning him to step forward is all the elder offers. The exhalation of defeat is like a bull's breath beating down onto Salahuddin's head. "Very well. I too seek your pardon, sha'ir, for any way in which I have aggrieved the Great Caliph of All Djinn. Only you can release me from this bondage, this exile to the forsaken places of the world. Grant me your mercy..." His head is bowed and his eyes furrowed with emotion when Yehianna discretely clears her throat. "Oh, ah, that is all. And I shall tell you my True Name..." With that, Ashtigal moves his lips silently, but to Salahuddin's ears it is a name that sounds like the rattle of death on the eve of a great battle, a hissing erratic wind. Eyes locked on Salahuddin, Ashtigal floats back as well.
 

Ancalagon

Dusty Dragon
Lal's eyes darted beneath his busy eyebrows. He hadn't heard the name, but he knew what had been said, what had been exchanged... and he was... puzzled.

He had discovered, after all, that all things were united - all were one with the universe. The separation was but an illusion... and yet, was existence. Were Lal to fully connect to the universe, to become one with it... he would cease to exist! So what was this true name... but a key, a resonance, a frequency, allowing one illusion to control another. The true name was the edge, the limit, what separated one from the universe. To fully know that separation was to fully know - and perhaps, control - someone.

Lal's face bloomed into a contended smile. Once again, the road provided Enlightenment.
 
Salahuddin kneels passively as the Djinn speak. He gasps at the first name shocked at the depth of the knowledge imparted to him. When Ashtigal speaks his name he bows his head and a single tear rolls down his cheek. He has seen their hearts and been granted understanding that they keep even from themselves. They have given themselves fully to Salahuddin and have placed their fate in his hand. The Sha'ir now felt comfortable to speak the words that he hoped would pardon the two Djinn and let them plead their case. If they attempt to use more than words then Salahuddin could call them to task.

Salahuddin places his hand over the bowl again. He bows his head over the bowl and whispers a small prayer to the four winds. He then raises and looks to the two Djinn.

"I have heard your names and seen your heart. You plead for pardon to return to the winds of creation to treat for the release of your kin from exile. I have heard your words and feel their sincerity. I grant you my forgiveness to return to the winds of creation." Salahuddin raises his hand from on top of the bowl. "Now I Salahuddin Idn Hamid al-Qadib, the Wind Called, Consort of the Venerable Fatima idn Zaida, the Mistress of the Northern Gale, Mortal Hand of the Great Caliph Husam al-Balil ben Nafhat al-Yugayyim grant you pardon in my name. I grant you pardon in the name of the Great Caliph and his Lords of Air. Finally I grant you pardon in the name of the winds of creation may they rage for eternity in the great tempest."

Salahuddin's hand begins to glow like the after image from a lightning strike. The glow arcs from his hand towards the bowl striking the mixture of water, sand, and ash. When the energy dissipates the mixture is gone.

"The elements of your bondage have been destroyed. With them the chains that shackle you to this plane have been broken. You may return to the winds of creation."

Salahuddin looks up hoping that this was enough. He sits passive though uncertainty racing through his mind.
 

Ancalagon

Dusty Dragon
Lal stood by passively, his sun-bleached redish robes fluttering in the wind. He had felt the potency of Salahudin's words... but how would the Djinn react?
 

Shayuri

Villager
Amina tensed slightly, preparing to move if things went bad. If the genies were malevolent, now would be the time to strike. Now that they'd gotten what they'd wanted, with no enforced assurance of peace.
 

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