The last "single meeting" between spies that we have in a log here, at least, one that is perhaps discussion worthy. I recognize several of the characters involved here, so I figure their players may enjoy seeing what happened between this meeting and the secret one.
******
You send a telepathic message to the geometrically-inked man:
"Krath. How am I scary?"
The geometrically-inked man sends you a telepathic message:
"It's all the khole."
Bobbing a little nod over, you say to the slight, freckled woman, in sirihish:
"Well, if Kadius doesn't work out for you, perhaps we could work something out if you're interested. In the meantime if you find those stones though, i'd appreciate it."
With a warm smile, the geometrically-inked man says to the slight, freckled woman, in sirihish:
"Walk safe, Masha, hrm? Even a little step from His gates is dangerous."
The geometrically-inked man sends you a telepathic message:
"Hey now, wait a second, am I not good enough to be an actual guard?"
You send a telepathic message to the geometrically-inked man:
"Nope. But we could make up a title for you!"
With a quick nod, the slight, freckled woman says, in sirihish:
"I will thank you, it is good advice, and I will keep an eye for them."
A foreign presence contacts your mind.
l
Zaerach's Way [NSW]
Flat bits of sandstone cover the ground here, set a bit unevenly to
make a wide path which winds itself in and out of a mixed assortment of
new stone buildings and older, thatched huts which bear a darkened line
at a uniform height of about half a cord up from the ground. Tufts of
drying brown grass and scraggly, thin-leaved loreshi bushes sit astride
the path, sparse and scattered. Charmingly mismatched, the sandstone
used to define the path is an assortment of shapes and colors, cobbled
together like a mosaic underfoot.< /div>
Decoratively carved stone forms a wall to the east, where to the
west, a small wooden hut is situated between two larger buildings
made of stone.
The pale, sable haired woman is standing here.
The slight, freckled woman is standing here, looking tired.
The geometrically-inked man is standing here.
Shifting her kohled, warm gaze, you look up at the pale, sable haired woman.
Long tresses of svelte hair cascades down the delicate shoulders of this
pale skinned woman and sway about her back and chest. Maintained loosely
without any fastening, her hair would naturally fall into neat clumps of
varying size while often obscuring her facial features. Set on her fragile
small head are a pair of dark brown eyes under thinly trimmed eyebrows and
over a sharp nose with a slightly upturned end. Narrow lips maintain a soft red
color, perhaps by paint, while sitting directly above her slight jaw and narrow
chin. Somewhat reedy long arms and equally extended fingers add a vine-like
appearance to her body while contrasted by a pronounced chest and finished
with long slim legs. Overall this woman is an exercise in contrast with ivory
pale flesh and black hair, with narrow limbs and a rounded torso.
The pale, sable haired woman is in excellent condition.
The pale, sable haired woman is using:
<neck> a blue and purple inked band
<across back> a light brown, leather instrument case
<on torso> a tight-fitting, aureate and crimson halter top
<around right wrist> a belled leather loop
<around left wrist> a strand of yellow beads
<hands> a tattoo of a six-pronged star
<on right index finger> an amber inset bone ring
<on left index finger> a ruby studded bone circlet
<on right middle finger> a gem-inlaid, sun-bleached agafari ring
<on left middle finger> a japuaar tourmaline and alabaster ring
<on left ring finger> a ring of white jade
< div><as belt> a bead-sewn pouched belt
<around body> a silver linen abaya
<about waist> a garnet-beaded, gold silk sarong
<on legs> a pair of vivid orange tights
<on feet> a pair of soft black, heeled shoes
She is carrying:
nothing obvious
The slight, freckled woman smiles to you and the geometrically-inked man before slipping away when your attention turns.
The slight, freckled woman walks south.
You suffer from use of the Way.
The lithe, henna-haired woman glances south down the road then bites her lower lip.
Bouncing his eyebrows, the geometrically-inked man looks at the pale, sable haired woman.
In an arch whisper as she cups her mouth with her hand, you say to the pale, sable haired woman, in sirihish:
"I'm apparently quite scary."
l me
This woman has shoulder-length hair dyed a reddish brown and it frames a
rounded, softly accented face. She watches the world from dark brown eyes,
framed by thick black brows and lashes and her nose is blunt above thinnish
lips. Her caramel-hued skin is flecked with small scars and imperfections
and she has slight contours that tell of her femininity. Her lithe physique
and lean limbs tell of an active lifestyle, and her hands have callus-tipped
fingers.
The lithe, henna-haired woman is in excellent condition.
<in hair> some pink flowers
<on face> subtle kohl eyeliner
<neck> a blue and purple inked band
<across back> a braid-strapped leather satchel
<on torso> a white damask dress with silk sash
< div><around right wrist> a bracelet made of tiny flint arrowheads
<around left wrist> a wood-clasped charm bracelet
<hands> an inverted, silver triangle
<on forearms> a supple, dark-grey strap-sheath
<on left index finger> a sunburst-carved ivory signet ring
<as belt> an interwoven belt of white and sable silks
<right ankle> a tattoo of three orange triangles
<on feet> a pair of silver silk slippers
The moustached, tan-skinned man sends you a telepathic message:
"Evening... Chosen. Private Rill of the First -- familiar via'a mutual friend a' ours -- would be a pleasure to buy you a drink and have a chat sometime."
The geometrically-inked man sends you a telepathic message:
"Well now I just feel insulted. I would make a spectacular guard."
116/116;110/119;96/96;walking
Nodding, the pale, sable haired woman says to you, in sirihish:
"I believe it."
stat
Your encumbrance is no problem.
You are:
Apprentice of the Bards of Poets' Circle, jobs:
The Hlum of the Servants of Gol Krathu, jobs:
Relationship to the land is neutral.
You are currently speaking sirihish with a northern accent.
Your mood is neutral.
You are standing.
Your mind is in contact with the geometrically-inked man.
You are refusing saves on: arrest.
You are merciful on: kill | flee | .
You aren't watching anything in particular.
You suffer from use of the Way.
You send a telepathic message to the geometrically-inked man:
< div> "But you're untrained! As yet."
cease
You dissolve the psychic link.
You contact the moustached, tan-skinned man with the Way.
The pale, sable haired woman says, in sirihish:
"So."
The geometrically-inked man sends you a telepathic message:
"Well obviously that will be remedied."
You suffer from use of the Way.
Exhaling an amused sigh, you ask the pale, sable haired woman, in sirihish:
"You think so too? And so...might you have those things?"
The pale, sable haired woman says to you, in sirihish:
"Ah yes."
It is dusk on Yochem, the 40th day of the Descending Sun,
In the Year of Silt's Peace, year 9 of the 22nd Age.
The pale, sable haired woman passes some folded clothes over to you so that an onlooker might not be able to tell what they are.
The pale, sable haired woman gives you her see-through beaded over-shift.
The pale, sable haired woman gives you her brief leather skirt.
The pale, sable haired woman gives you her short, tight-fitting, sleek brown hide skirt.
You are carrying:
a short, tight-fitting, sleek brown hide skirt
a brief leather skirt
a see-through beaded over-shift
You open your braid-strapped leather satchel.
Tucking the bundle away, you put your short, tight-fitting, sleek brown hide skirt into your braid-strapped leather satchel.
Tucking the bundle away, you put your brief leather skirt into your braid-strapped leather satchel.
The geometrically-inked man eyes the clothing with an arched brow.
You put your see-through beaded over-shift into your braid-strapped leather satchel.
With an innocent whistle, you close your braid-strapped leather satchel.
You suffer from use of the Way.
The geometrically-inked man asks the pale, sable haired woman, in sirihish:
"Can you get me one of those?"
You suffer from use of the Way.
You ask the geometrically-inked man, in sirihish:
"To wear?"
The geometrically-inked man says to you, in sirihish:
"Don't judge me, ma'am."
The pale, sable haired woman says to the geometrically-inked man, in sirihish:
"Kadius could."
You send a telepathic message to the moustached, tan-skinned man:
"Evening Private Rill. How good to hear from you. A drink and a chat would be lovely, indeed. Are you off duty this evening?"
Pursing his lips, the geometrically-inked man says, in sirihish:
"Ah... Haven't seen a Kadian in a while."
You suffer from use of the Way.
The moustached, tan-skinned man sends you a telepathic message:
"I am. You have a prefered place to drink?"
The rugged, ruddy man has arrived from the south.
time
It is late at night on Yochem, the 40th day of the Descending Sun,
In the Year of Silt's Peace, year 9 of the 22nd Age.
weather
It is a warm night.
A warm breeze blows from the south.
Jihae, the red moon, is high in the sky.
The white moon, Lirathu, is high in the sky.
The rugged, ruddy man looks up at the pale, sable haired woman.
The rugged, ruddy man looks at you.
You send a telepathic message to the moustached, tan-skinned man:
"How about the Ghaati terrace? It tends to be peaceful up there."
You suffer from use of the Way.
The pale, sable haired woman says to the geometrically-inked man, in sirihish:
"Sorry, it's the only pair I have."
The moustached, tan-skinned man sends you a telepathic message:
"One of my favorites. His Radiance, until we meet."
You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
The rugged, ruddy man makes a respectful nod to you as he walks down the way, and then to the pale, sable haired woman, and then to the geometrically-inked man.
You send a telepathic message to the moustached, tan-skinned man:
"His Light."
With a nod, the geometrically-inked man says to the pale, sable haired woman, in sirihish:
"Alas, I'll have to do without."
Returning the nod with a little smile, you look at the rugged, ruddy man.
This is a hard-featured human male in his prime. His face is heavy, with a
thick brow, wide cheekbones, a strong and square chin, and a prominent,
hawkish nose. Murky blue eyes are set very deep, and the folds beneath his
brow lend them a perpetual squint. A large mouth holds what seems like a few
too many teeth. He is broad at the shoulders and narrow at the waist.
Despite his hardy appearance, a careful observer may note signs of ease -
a relatively untanned, though reddened, complexion, soft and cared for hands,
and a general lack of the scarring and blemishing so common in the Known world.
His hair is thick and a lustrous reddish brown. It hangs about his shoulders.
He is closely shaven.
The rugged, ruddy man is in excellent condition.
The rugged, ruddy man is using:
<on head> a desert-carved, stained-bone circlet
<in right ear> a dangling ivory filigree earring
<across back> a fringed shoulder bag
<on torso> a full-cut, white silk shirt
<around right wrist> an elegant bracelet of blackened ivory and moonstone
<around left wrist> an ivory and sapphire bracelet
<hands> a pale, faint-looking scar
<on right index finger> a narrow band of pure white ivory
<on left index finger> a lapis lazuli signet ring with an evening stone
<on left middle finger> a narrow band of pure white ivory
<as belt> a white pouched belt
<hung from belt> a dark, rantarri-hilted dagger
<around body> a patterned, vibrant blue abaya
<on legs> a snug pair of blue, pocketed suede pants
<on feet> a pair of knee-high, white leather boots
He is carrying:
nothing obvious
The short, slender man has arrived from the south.
The short, slender man walks north.
You suffer from use of the Way.
You suffer from use of the Way.
Pausing briefly in his walk, the rugged, ruddy man asks, in sirihish:
"A charmed night when both Jihae and Lirathu are ascendant, hm?"
With a nod, the geometrically-inked man looks at the rugged, ruddy man.
Amiably, you say to the rugged, ruddy man, in sirihish:
"It really feels like it. It's good to see you, Trader Rulon."
The geometrically-inked man sends you a telepathic message:
"Geeze, you even get the Kadians to speak fancy to you... Wait no, he does that for everyone with tits."
Dipping his head again, the rugged, ruddy man says, in sirihish:
"Too kind, Chosen Lady. "
The athletic, olive-skinned woman has arrived from the south.
The athletic, olive-skinned woman walks north.
Pleasantly, the rugged, ruddy man asks you, in sirihish:
"I wonder what title you prefer. I was speaking with the Chosen Lord about the variety of titles available. Chosen Hlum, Chosen Lady, Chosen Lady Hlum...?"
The rugged, ruddy man says, in sirihish:
"Chosen Consort..."
You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
With a chuckle, the rugged, ruddy man says, in sirihish:
"There's a great degree of customization, it seems."
You exclaim to the rugged, ruddy man, in sirihish:
"I have a little business I wouldn't mind discussing sometime soon when we get a chance, actually. And, Chosen Lady or Chosen Consort are fine. Either, and quite!"