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Legend
The map to Jabir bin Hayyan’s tomb, former moneylender to the Sultan, was deciphered, and the tension with Nimar al-Solak’s rogues resolved with diplomacy.
Eventually, only embers remained of the campfire. The snoring of the rogues, having indulged in too much palm wine, was matched only by Ajan’s nomads of the Young Camel. One could have felled several trees with the sawing sounds of their snoring.
From atop a moonlit rock, both the watchful handmaiden “Amina” and the invisible gen Easifa observed a messenger pigeon alight next to Fereshte, the silent sister of the rogues contracted to help you explore Badu al-Kabir. There was no trace of string, wax, nor note. Who was she communicating with back in Tajar, City of Trade? It was a mystery that would have to wait…
Day 3 – Al-Yabki Pass
Ajan breaks camp before sunrise as promised, the camels rising to their feet with groans almost as ornery as the sextet of rogues. To the east, the sun slowly creeps up from above the distant Golden Gulf, sending long shadows across a landscape basking in the morning light. Soon enough, you make your way into Al-Yabki Pass.
Precious little sign of water at the base of these arid mountains. Upthrust stones reach to heights of 1,000 feet. The nomads whisper that once giants lived in the Al-Yabki mountains, but were turned to stone for not following the way of the Loregiver. It is easy to see how such a tale could come to be – enormous chunks of rock are split, revealing the dark interior speckling with reflective minerals in the sunlight. The clatter of rocks echoes in the distance as you navigate your way to avoid the rougher rocky terrain. In the midday heat, the pass would be brutal. Ajan was wise to choose an early ascent.
Only a few hours into crossing the pass, and you can make out a small line of pack camels wending their way down an escarpment, with several men wearing black and white checkered keffiyehs leading the camels. Upon noticing you, a large man excitedly waves a thick hand, hollering. Several rocks clatter down the escarpment. One of his smaller more sinuous fellows cuffs the oaf about the ears for speaking too loudly in a place of giants.
Eventually, only embers remained of the campfire. The snoring of the rogues, having indulged in too much palm wine, was matched only by Ajan’s nomads of the Young Camel. One could have felled several trees with the sawing sounds of their snoring.
From atop a moonlit rock, both the watchful handmaiden “Amina” and the invisible gen Easifa observed a messenger pigeon alight next to Fereshte, the silent sister of the rogues contracted to help you explore Badu al-Kabir. There was no trace of string, wax, nor note. Who was she communicating with back in Tajar, City of Trade? It was a mystery that would have to wait…
Day 3 – Al-Yabki Pass
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Ajan breaks camp before sunrise as promised, the camels rising to their feet with groans almost as ornery as the sextet of rogues. To the east, the sun slowly creeps up from above the distant Golden Gulf, sending long shadows across a landscape basking in the morning light. Soon enough, you make your way into Al-Yabki Pass.
Precious little sign of water at the base of these arid mountains. Upthrust stones reach to heights of 1,000 feet. The nomads whisper that once giants lived in the Al-Yabki mountains, but were turned to stone for not following the way of the Loregiver. It is easy to see how such a tale could come to be – enormous chunks of rock are split, revealing the dark interior speckling with reflective minerals in the sunlight. The clatter of rocks echoes in the distance as you navigate your way to avoid the rougher rocky terrain. In the midday heat, the pass would be brutal. Ajan was wise to choose an early ascent.
Only a few hours into crossing the pass, and you can make out a small line of pack camels wending their way down an escarpment, with several men wearing black and white checkered keffiyehs leading the camels. Upon noticing you, a large man excitedly waves a thick hand, hollering. Several rocks clatter down the escarpment. One of his smaller more sinuous fellows cuffs the oaf about the ears for speaking too loudly in a place of giants.
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As Harun and Lal Qalandar meet the small caravan halfway, a lanky man in a brown aba (robe) and black-and-white checkered keffiyeh (head scarf) hands his camel's reins to his oafish lackey. The camel bays in fatigue at the journey across the rough stone escarpment. Approaching cautiously, he takes measure of your party. "It is rare to see other travelers amidst the Giants' Caltrops! I am Khafaz ibn Dahz, a most humble servant of his mercantile magnificence, Fahad al-Zakir, most renown merchant of the High Desert. You come from Tajar? To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking, travelers?"
Upon sensing that Khafaz grows suspicious, his lackey advances to several paces behind the caravan master. Standing nearly seven feet tall, his lackey is a shy homely man with slumped shoulders suggesting low self-esteem, a bulbous nose, droopy eyes, and unusually large ears. He wears a white aba (robe) and a black-and-white checkered keffiyeh (head scarf) like Khafaz, with a jambiya (curved dagger) and scimitar at his belt. Clearly not grasping Khafaz's insinuation, he leans in and whispers, "Khafaz, the camels are tired. May I water them with the magic decanter from Qaybar?" Qaybar, as you know, is the mystical City of the Jann whispered to have returned to Zakhara.[/SECTION]
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