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Al-Qadim Moving Through the Flame
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<blockquote data-quote="Matthan" data-source="post: 7104799" data-attributes="member: 20005"><p>[OOC]I was a bit inspired by the delightful flavor posts and wanted to do the same for Husam. There’s nothing really plot critical so this post has two sections. Last night – can be ignored behind the spoiler tag, and present.[/ooc]</p><p></p><p>[sblock=Last Night]</p><p>Husam made his way to the servants’ kitchen where an older half-orc woman busied herself cleaning after the evening meal. </p><p></p><p>“Mother,” Husam said lightly.</p><p></p><p>The woman turned with a smile, “My son, it is good to see you.” Her eyes look him up and down critically. “You look hungry. I saved some bread and lentil soup for you. Sit down and eat before the wind blows you away.”</p><p></p><p>Husam sat and accepted the meal. He had already eaten and wasn’t hungry in the slightest, but experience had taught him that there were some fights that you could never win. He dipped the bread into the soup and began to share his news. “Our glorious and honored Sheik, long may he reign, has seen fit to give me a new task, Mother.” His mother’s eyes perked with maternal pride and curiosity. “I am to travel with his daughter, his most trusted and wise vizier.” He paused. “Mother, I have been asked to accompany her outside of Tajar.”</p><p></p><p>His mother seemed to read his mind, “And you’re worried.” It was a simple statement of fact.</p><p></p><p>“I am,” he admitted, “I have never gone far from the city. I have served on patrols and the like. We have trained in and for the desert, but even when the Sheik traveled, I remained behind. I know these streets. I know their dangers. I know the faces of our people. What if…”</p><p></p><p>His mother cut him off, “Have I ever told you about how your father fought in the war against the Sultan?” Husam smiled. It had been one of his favorite stories as a child. “The Sultan was a wicked man who oppressed the good people of Tajar. Your father was a great warrior that the Sultan lusted after for his guard. The Sultan threatened to harm the people your father loved unless your father served him. Your father was always a man of honor and would not allow his family to be harmed when he could prevent it. He swore a life debt to serve the Sultan.”</p><p></p><p>His mother looked wistful as she continued, “The hands of Fate move in mysterious ways. If the Sultan had not forced your father to serve him, then he would never have developed a taste for the sweet meats cooked in a nearby stall or grown to fancy the young girl who cooked them. He would never have been a witness and a participant in the excesses of cruelty that the Sultan inflicted upon his people. He would never have heard the priest declare the word of the Loregiver that spoke of a higher responsibility for this life.”</p><p></p><p>“Your father had sworn his life to the Sultan and yet he knew that Fate demanded the Sultan’s evil be stopped. He had heard of the gathering revolution in the desert. His heart and conscience burned inside of him to join them, but his honor bound him to his oath to give his life to the Sultan. Your father knew in that moment that he must die. He did not tell the sweet meat girl of his plan. He was wise enough to know that her love for him would have pressed her to stop him. He left her a note that said he would return for her in his next life.”</p><p></p><p>“Under the cover of darkness, your father stole away to the home of the priest and in faith allowed the priest to take the life of the man who had sworn his life to the Sultan. His blood poured out, his heart beat its final time, and all the breath left his lungs. The Sultan’s servant was dead and his debt was paid. When the prayers of the priest restored the body to a new life, your father left the name of the dead in the grave and took up the name of Khalid and went to serve those who would bring the justice and wisdom of the Loregiver to Tajar.”</p><p></p><p>Husam’s mother reached out and rested her hand on her son’s. “Husam, you are your father’s son. He was willing to die to keep his word. He was willing to sacrifice his life to do the right thing. In the end, he laid down his life for just that reason. You are cut from the same cloth. Our beloved and gracious Sheik, long may he reign, knows this about you. That is why you have been chosen for this. He knows that you would rather die doing what must be done than live while letting evil hurt the innocent. Go and do what you have been asked. You are more than ready for the task.”</p><p></p><p>Husam smiled, “Thank you, Mother,” and got up to leave.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, and, Husam?” his mother said as he turned away, “When you come back, maybe you should speak more with that young lady who you keep buying apples from in the market? Sarai says she sees you there every morning. Your mother deserves to meet her grandchildren while she can still rejoice over them.”</p><p>[/sblock]</p><p></p><p><strong>Present</strong></p><p></p><p>Husam smiled to himself as he led his new horse to meet with the others in the palace gates. He fed a crisp apple to the horse while enjoying his own as they walked. “Next time, Shajae,” he said as he patted the horse’s neck, “I will certainly speak to her next time.”</p><p></p><p>Husam travelled with the others to meet with Ajan. He stood protectively to the side of the Vizier and deferred to her.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Matthan, post: 7104799, member: 20005"] [OOC]I was a bit inspired by the delightful flavor posts and wanted to do the same for Husam. There’s nothing really plot critical so this post has two sections. Last night – can be ignored behind the spoiler tag, and present.[/ooc] [sblock=Last Night] Husam made his way to the servants’ kitchen where an older half-orc woman busied herself cleaning after the evening meal. “Mother,” Husam said lightly. The woman turned with a smile, “My son, it is good to see you.” Her eyes look him up and down critically. “You look hungry. I saved some bread and lentil soup for you. Sit down and eat before the wind blows you away.” Husam sat and accepted the meal. He had already eaten and wasn’t hungry in the slightest, but experience had taught him that there were some fights that you could never win. He dipped the bread into the soup and began to share his news. “Our glorious and honored Sheik, long may he reign, has seen fit to give me a new task, Mother.” His mother’s eyes perked with maternal pride and curiosity. “I am to travel with his daughter, his most trusted and wise vizier.” He paused. “Mother, I have been asked to accompany her outside of Tajar.” His mother seemed to read his mind, “And you’re worried.” It was a simple statement of fact. “I am,” he admitted, “I have never gone far from the city. I have served on patrols and the like. We have trained in and for the desert, but even when the Sheik traveled, I remained behind. I know these streets. I know their dangers. I know the faces of our people. What if…” His mother cut him off, “Have I ever told you about how your father fought in the war against the Sultan?” Husam smiled. It had been one of his favorite stories as a child. “The Sultan was a wicked man who oppressed the good people of Tajar. Your father was a great warrior that the Sultan lusted after for his guard. The Sultan threatened to harm the people your father loved unless your father served him. Your father was always a man of honor and would not allow his family to be harmed when he could prevent it. He swore a life debt to serve the Sultan.” His mother looked wistful as she continued, “The hands of Fate move in mysterious ways. If the Sultan had not forced your father to serve him, then he would never have developed a taste for the sweet meats cooked in a nearby stall or grown to fancy the young girl who cooked them. He would never have been a witness and a participant in the excesses of cruelty that the Sultan inflicted upon his people. He would never have heard the priest declare the word of the Loregiver that spoke of a higher responsibility for this life.” “Your father had sworn his life to the Sultan and yet he knew that Fate demanded the Sultan’s evil be stopped. He had heard of the gathering revolution in the desert. His heart and conscience burned inside of him to join them, but his honor bound him to his oath to give his life to the Sultan. Your father knew in that moment that he must die. He did not tell the sweet meat girl of his plan. He was wise enough to know that her love for him would have pressed her to stop him. He left her a note that said he would return for her in his next life.” “Under the cover of darkness, your father stole away to the home of the priest and in faith allowed the priest to take the life of the man who had sworn his life to the Sultan. His blood poured out, his heart beat its final time, and all the breath left his lungs. The Sultan’s servant was dead and his debt was paid. When the prayers of the priest restored the body to a new life, your father left the name of the dead in the grave and took up the name of Khalid and went to serve those who would bring the justice and wisdom of the Loregiver to Tajar.” Husam’s mother reached out and rested her hand on her son’s. “Husam, you are your father’s son. He was willing to die to keep his word. He was willing to sacrifice his life to do the right thing. In the end, he laid down his life for just that reason. You are cut from the same cloth. Our beloved and gracious Sheik, long may he reign, knows this about you. That is why you have been chosen for this. He knows that you would rather die doing what must be done than live while letting evil hurt the innocent. Go and do what you have been asked. You are more than ready for the task.” Husam smiled, “Thank you, Mother,” and got up to leave. “Oh, and, Husam?” his mother said as he turned away, “When you come back, maybe you should speak more with that young lady who you keep buying apples from in the market? Sarai says she sees you there every morning. Your mother deserves to meet her grandchildren while she can still rejoice over them.” [/sblock] [b]Present[/b] Husam smiled to himself as he led his new horse to meet with the others in the palace gates. He fed a crisp apple to the horse while enjoying his own as they walked. “Next time, Shajae,” he said as he patted the horse’s neck, “I will certainly speak to her next time.” Husam travelled with the others to meet with Ajan. He stood protectively to the side of the Vizier and deferred to her. [/QUOTE]
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