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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ferrix" data-source="post: 2263702" data-attributes="member: 6115">Sharma rose slowly from his small bed, normally his dreams left a much more pleasing sensation than the unnerving nothingness which enveloped him.  Such darkness... what could that thing possibly have been?  The question lingers a moment in his mind, as he sloughs off the thin blanket and nearly slips off of his childhood bed, but really, two feet isn't very high for a sixteen year old.Slipping his feet into his pair of leather sandals, worn and stained with the oils from his skin, he casts about for a moment before locating a pair of clean pants which billow out loosely.  Tugging them on, he secures them at his waist with a magenta sash and pulls on a sleeveless turquoise vest.  Padding his way out from his small bedroom, he ducks through the curtain which separates it from the main living space of their meager home.  The area is taken up mostly by pillows, although a short square table occupies the center of the room.  Laid out upon the table is a loaf of bread, a good half of it missing, a few pieces of local fruit, and a porcelain mug.  Such a wonderful mother she is, he thinks to himself, as he picks up one of the fruit and bites into it, the sweet juices trickling down his throat.  Walking over to the corner of the room, he stokes the small fire in the oven and places a kettle of water over it.Returning to a pillow, he plops down, munching on his fruit, he picks up the serrated knife off of the table and cuts himself a piece of bread.  Within a few minutes and a few pieces of fruit and bread later, the shrill whistle of the kettle boiling disturbs his breakfast.  Removing the kettle from the stove with a thick cloth, he opens a small cupboard and removes a package of loose tea.  Dropping some into his mug, he pours the hot water over it and lets it steep, giving himself some time to think.  Such an intriguing dream, although I didn't recognize any of the places.  Perhaps I should go ask Jaroth, he's been everywhere, he says thinking of the dwarven spice merchant and self-proclaimed retired adventurer.  The scent of the jasmine tea draws him out of his thoughts and into his memories.  Naomi would crush the small flowers, rubbing the soft powder against her dark skin, the smell, oh what a smell, then other thoughts, languid, sensuous."Sharma, you're finally awake.  Ready to help your mother sell some baskets?"He nearly spilled the hot liquid on himself as he was jolted out of his memories.  Looking towards the voice, his mother stood there, holding a half-weaved basket in one hand, the other resting upon her hip in a motherly way."Why of course!" he said with a touch of benign sarcasm, although really, he never could pull it off with her, "although...""What is it now?  Off to the cliffs to see the birds wheeling in the sky?  Or, the gardens?"  His mother replied, knowing full well that, "although...", meant he had other plans from the get-go."I was going to go see Jaroth, get some jasmine tea, we're almost out," he said, hoping to conceal his real intent."Alright then, don't be too long though, the customers always enjoy your tales," she said, knowing full well that he knew she had bought some jasmine tea only the other day from Jaroth.  She let him have his fun and his time, he was a good young boy, young man, she corrected herself, and that was the best time to be a free-spirit."Thanks," Sharma said, setting his empty mug down on the table and reaching through the curtain to his room and snagging the small pouch which he carried a few coins in.  Tossing it up and down in his left hand, each time with a clink, he reached forward and hugged his mother, who was still taller than him by four inches.  "I'll be back soon," with that he padded out the door and made his way down towards the markets.The markets bustled with activity, all day, every day.  Despite the thronging crowd, he deftly made his way through, knowing where Jaroth's booth was by the dwarfs roughened voice calling out his wares alone.  Popping out from the crowd, Jaroth stood, swarthy and barrel-chested, a pipe with some of the best tobacco (or so he claimed) from the islands tucked into a corner of his mouth, hailing down customers (anyone who passed in front of him was a customer, or so he acted) to take a look at the exotic spices and other odd items he would acquire on his travels."Jasmine tea, half a pound," he whispered into the dwarf's ear when his back was turned, causing the dwarf to tumble forward as he tried to spin about."Ah!  Sharma my boy!" he exclaimed.  "Don't be doing that, you'll make me scare the customers away," he muttered into Sharma's ear, as he drew him in for a clap on the back.  "Now, wait a minute... your mother didn't send you did she?"  He eyed Sharma suspiciously, "because she came by here only the other day for some jasmine tea.  It isn't jasmine tea you're really looking for, is it now lad?""Actually, the tea it is, but I'm wondering... what large mountain chains are there that have snow?"  Sharma asked, nonchalantly."Now, why you be wondering that my boy?  Don't be planning on heading off for these mountains now do you?"  The dwarf grinned, showing a number of gold capped teeth."Well..." he leads the dwarf into the booth, telling him of the vision he had and hoping for some ideas on the mountains, the architecture, the chapel, the mistletoe.  "I feel something is calling me," he says finishing.OOC: Hoping you can pick up with Jaroth and help me out a bit.  Also, in Refel do they normally use mistletoe, or is that a foreign custom?</blockquote>

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