Quickleaf
Legend
[SECTION]
Malsoor listens to the vizier, eyes narrowing at her in the dim light. After several tense heart beats, at last the water bearer places a hand over his heart and inclines his head respectfully. "You are indeed daughter of the siswa. A fool could have asked for much more, but would have received far less. As you have spoken, so shall it be. I swear upon the water of Hakim to come to your aid in the future. As for the other thing..." Looking around as he secures the clasps on his shirt, the water bearer's eyes settle on the worn head of an ancient pick laying upon one of the tables, elevated above the sundry surgical tools and bandages. Rising, he retrieves it and, after a moment's reflection gazing down upon the pitted metal pick-head, he hands it to Akilah, "From my days mining the great ice that once lay beneath Hakim."[/SECTION]
Malsoor listens to the vizier, eyes narrowing at her in the dim light. After several tense heart beats, at last the water bearer places a hand over his heart and inclines his head respectfully. "You are indeed daughter of the siswa. A fool could have asked for much more, but would have received far less. As you have spoken, so shall it be. I swear upon the water of Hakim to come to your aid in the future. As for the other thing..." Looking around as he secures the clasps on his shirt, the water bearer's eyes settle on the worn head of an ancient pick laying upon one of the tables, elevated above the sundry surgical tools and bandages. Rising, he retrieves it and, after a moment's reflection gazing down upon the pitted metal pick-head, he hands it to Akilah, "From my days mining the great ice that once lay beneath Hakim."[/SECTION]
Usqual, back still perfectly erect spreads his hand over the rug and the glowing sand hisses and seems to stream back into his hand and disappear. His copper-and-verdant green eyes twinkle at noble Husam seated across from him, bowing his head at the half-orc's wisdom. "Do I carry the wisdom of Shakar?" He echoes, letting the question float in the main cavern of the caravanserai carved from sandstone. "It is like reaching for a stonefruit on a tree that grows slightly further the further one reaches. But I am freshly burdened by the fighting in the Badu al-Kabir against the honor-less jann of Khaldun. The losses my people sustained were great, and those surviving were scattered in the seven directions including Sheikh Ja’afar-al-Din al-Shakari..." For a moment, Usual's voice lingers behind his veil, as if he were going to say more, but then falls into silent reflection. His eyes grow heavy at some memory, like they should be welling with tears, but no tears come. His waters have been stolen.