A Red Robed Inspection by Case

[Adhira]

NB. Typos and grammar fixed when in error. Some creative license taken with raw logged emoting/echoes to shrink line count or streamline the scene. Some sensitive content removed. - Case

A Stonepaved Courtyard [N, E, S]
  The stones paving this courtyard are newly cut, rough edges waiting
for the wear that will smooth their grey and black surface.  To the east
sits a large barracks, the arms of House Tor carved above them and gleaming
with fresh paint.  Along its side is an animal pen, made of wood, which
leans into the shelter of the larger building.  Stone walls surround the
courtyard, topped with broken glass to keep away the worst of Allanak's
notorious thieves.  A large mural, depicting the siege of the city by
rebel dwarves, their short, squat forms fleeing in terror from Tektolnes'
might in the final stages, has been painted onto the blank stone of one
wall, apparently to serve as inspiration for the troops training here.
The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf is standing here.
The wide-faced dwarf is standing here.
The stout, raven-haired woman is standing here.
The bushy-browed, gangly half-giant slouches here.

The wide-faced dwarf is drawn up to attention.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf stands at attention.

The stout, raven-haired woman comes to attention.

Calling as she strides onto the courtyard, you say, in sirihish:
    "Firsts of the Seventh, prepare for inspection."

You are Lyvrenxice, of many people. (type 'tribes' to see your tribes).
Keywords: serpentine braided woman lyvren lyv
Sdesc: the serpentine braided woman
Objective: [redacted]
Long Description:
Code Generated Long Description.
You are 38 years, 0 months, and 100 days old,
which by your race and appearance is mature.
You are 76 inches tall, and weigh 8 ten-stone.
Your strength is below average, your agility is average,
 your wisdom is exceptional, and your endurance is exceptional.
You are famished and not thirsty.
Your health is 115(115), you have 121(130) stamina, and 116(116) stun.

You have been playing for 87 days and 23 hours.
You are currently speaking sirihish with a southern accent.

look me
Set into immaculate braids, the midnight black hair of this woman has
been twisted up around her head in an intricate, knot-like pattern, with the
tips left free and the thick locks jutting outwards in a chaotic fashion.
Soft features have been set upon an angular face to form a pleasant
contrast; her full lips are enhanced by the sharp line of her nose and jaw
while jade eyes gleam  beneath her high, arched brows.  She is tall, with
modest curves blending into a firm, athletic frame and though long limbed,
she moves with grace.  Her unblemished olive-toned flesh presents little
evidence of Krath's rays or age, retaining a youthful glow.  
If exposed, the middle right finger of her right hand is revealed to be missing.
The serpentine braided templar is in excellent condition.

<worn around neck>       a jet-colored, chitin gorget
<worn about throat>      a medallion of Tektolnes
<worn across back>       a loose blue silk knapsack
<worn on left shoulder>  a blue silk sash
<worn on arms>           a new pair of black, jet-colored chitin armbands
<worn around wrist>      a supple, dark-grey strap-sheath
<secondary hand>         a fur-lined, jet-black chitin helm
<worn on right finger>   an obsidian templar ring
<worn on left finger>    an azure-symboled silver ring
<worn on right finger>   a sapphire-studded ivory ring
<worn on left finger>    an intertwining leaf-carved agafari ring
<worn around body>       a blue, hooded templar's robe
<worn on legs>           a set of glossy, jet-colored shell greaves
<worn on feet>           a pair of knee-high black boots with azure sigils

The wide-faced dwarf puffs up his chest, back ridged and his black, hooded militia dustcloak open.

The serpentine braided templar halts before the unit and turns towards them. She steps forward, beginning with the wide-faced dwarf.

From head to toe and back, you look down at the wide-faced dwarf.
Before you stands a blockish little dwarf, his frame as wide as it is
tall.  His hairless form is covered with a few scars, gouges and dents.  He
has small beady black eyes set close in on a thick wide face, set with a
broad flat nose.  His weather tattered lips are very large, acting as the
covers to a mouthful of jagged boulder like teeth.  His hands and feet are
overly large, placed at the end of short limbs.  Finger nails are broken and
jagged with a odd thickness to them.  His skin is a ashen gray color, with
some flaky skin peeling here and there.  His small ears are roundish,
tapering to a soft point at their tips and set tight to his head.  
Drapped from his left shoulder, crossing his body to the right,&nbsp ;
worn neatly is a black sandcloth sash, clearly displaying a tassel with
two black bars on it. A black leather patch with a jade saber is also
attached on the side of his left shoulder.
The wide-faced dwarf is in excellent condition.

The wide-faced dwarf is using:
<worn on head>           a horned, demon-carved helm
<face>                   a red scorpion tattoo
<worn around neck>       an obsidian-carved, silver-etched gorget
<worn about throat>      a ruby arrowhead, strung on a black silk cord
<slung across back>      a glossy, chitin-bladed cutlass
<worn across back>       a large, black leather backpack
<worn on torso>          a duskhorn scalemail hauberk
<worn on right shoulder> a jade leather patch with two obsidian bars
<worn on left shoulder>  a black sandcloth sash
<worn on arms>           a pair of black, duskhorn scalemail sleeves
<worn around wrist>      a bone-spiked, black-leather bracer
<worn around wrist>      a dragon-carved spiked bracer
<worn on hands>          a pair of anakore-claw gloves
<worn on forearms>       a leather and chitin strap-sheath
<worn as belt>           an ornate, black leather swordbelt
<hung from belt>         an obsidian-headed, jade-emblazoned mace
<worn around body>       a black, hooded militia dustcloak
<worn about waist>       a duskhorn scalemail breechguard
<worn on legs>           a pair of black, duskhorn scalemail greaves
<worn on feet>           a pair of chitin-banded armored boots


The dusty, brown-haired soldier opens the gateway from the other side.
The rugged, goateed man has arrived from the south.
The dusty, brown-haired soldier closes the gateway from the other side.

You say to the wide-faced dwarf, in sirihish:
    "Perfect, Corporal. Make sure that helm is under your arm."

The serpentine braided templar continues on to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf stops using her horned, demon-carved helm.

Dunking it in the sand bucket and the tossing it aside next to the gate, the rugged, goateed man extinguishes his burning simple, leather-wrapped bone torch.

By the horns, the wide-faced dwarf stops using his horned, demon-carved helm, revealing a pair of pitted, deep looking scars, tucking it under his arm.

Giving her a proper once over too, you look down at the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf.
This female dwarf has a blocky head and a large frame.  Her chest is all
muscle with barely any sign of womanhood.  Her limbs are short, thick, and
covered in bulging veins.  She barely has a neck and it looks like she might
have trouble turning her head due to the muscles.  Her eyes are blue and her
nose is crooked and looks to have been broken many times.  Her skin is
scarred up and yellowish in hue.  
The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf is in excellent condition.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf is using:
<face>                   a red scorpion tattoo
<worn in right ear>      a loop of bleached bone
< div><worn around neck>       a polished, colorful scalemail collar
<slung across back>      a heavy, jagged-bladed bone cutlass
<worn across back>       a large chalton-hide backpack
<worn on torso>          a black, scalemail breastplate of bone
<worn on right shoulder> a black leather patch with a jade saber
<worn on left shoulder>  a black sandcloth sash
<worn on arms>           a pair of polished, colorful scalemail sleeves
<worn around wrist>      a bone-spiked, black-leather bracer
<worn around wrist>      a bone-spiked, black-leather bracer
<worn on hands>          a pair of anakore-claw gloves
<worn on forearms>       a supple, dark-grey strap-sheath
<worn as belt>           an ebony pouched belt
<hung from belt>         a head-etched, obsidian-bladed axe
<hung from belt>         a heavy, jade-emblazoned stone warhammer
<worn around body>       a black, hooded militia dustcloak
<worn about waist>       a black, duskhorn scalemail breechguard
<worn on legs>           a pair of polished, colorful scalemail leggings
<worn on feet>           a pair of lined, plated black-leather boots


The serpentine braided templar nods her firm approval to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf.

The stout, raven-haired woman stops using her sandy-yellow chitinous helm.

You say to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf, in sirihish:
    "You are as you should be, Private."

The rugged, goateed man strolls up into the line, then bows and salutes you.

Getting around to her, you look at the stout, raven-haired woman.
The woman before you is neither slim or overly muscular.  She is stout of
build with seemingly athletic arms and legs.  She has a nice bust and tapers
at the waist before her hips flare out.  She has slightly above average size
round brown eyes and otherwise very average face.  She has skin tanned a
soft brown color with her face having fewer scars than the rest of her.  She
has high arching black eyebrows that match her short shorn raven hair.  
The stout, raven-haired woman is in excellent condition.

The stout, raven-haired woman is using:
<worn around neck>       a stiff, black-leather gorget
<worn across back>       a bone-studded backpack
<worn on torso>          a black, chitin-plated jerkin
<worn on left shoulder>  a black leather patch with a jade cross
<worn on arms>           a pair of sandy-yellow chitinous sleeves
<worn around wrist>      a durrit-claw bracer
<worn around wrist>      a durrit-claw bracer
<worn as belt>           a pouched belt
<hung from belt>         a katar punch dagger
<hung from belt>         an obsidian dagger
<worn on legs>           a pair of sandy-yellow chitinous leggings
<worn on feet>           a pair of sturdy sandcloth and leather boots


The wide-faced dwarf salutes the rugged, goateed man crisply.

The rugged, goateed man stops using his jade-trimmed chitin greathelm and holds it under his arm.

Shouting, you exclaim to the stout, raven-haired woman, in sirihish:
    "Straighten up! Shoulders back! Arms straight!"

The stout, raven-haired woman puts her shoulders back and her arms straight, looking startled a moment.

You ask the stout, raven-haired woman, in sirihish:
    "Are you worthy to stand in this line, Recruit?"

The rugged, goateed man rolls his shoulders a moment and then straightens up his posture.

The stout, raven-haired woman exclaims, in sirihish:
    "Not yet Lady Templar!"

The sun rises over the spires of Allanak's east wall.

You exclaim to the stout, raven-haired woman, in sirihish:
    "Correct! If I give you an order, I expect an answer!"

Stiffly, the stout, raven-haired woman says, in sirihish:
    "Yes Lady Templar."

The serpentine braided templar cuts back to inspect the rugged, goateed man.
This is a tall and ruggedly-built human man.  He has broad shoulders and
brawny arms that end in roughly calloused, work-worn hands.  His skin is
deeply tanned by the relentless sun and a bit hairy on his arms, legs, and
chest.  A strong jaw angularly frames the bottom of his face, while short,
crudely-shorn black hair caps his high forehead.  His hard, steel-grey eyes
and a somewhat hawkish nose sit beneath a heavy brow.  His average-sized
mouth, faintly shaped in a natural smirk, sports a short but full goatee
with the rest of his cheeks covered in rough stubble.  
The rugged, goateed man is in excellent condition.

The rugged, goateed man is using:
<worn around neck>       a tortoiseshell collar
<slung across back>      a serrated, blackened bone war-axe
<worn across back>       a small pack
<worn on torso>          an obsidian-studded, tandu-hide hauberk
<worn on right shoulder> a black leather patch with a jade saber
<worn on left shoulder>  a jade leather patch with three obsidian bars
<worn around wrist>      a dragon-carved spiked bracer
<worn around wrist>      a dragon-carved spiked bracer
<worn on hands>          a pair of dark grey worm-hide gloves
<secondary hand>         a jade-trimmed chitin greathelm
<worn as belt>           a shell-buckled black leather belt
<hung from belt>         a serrated, blackened bone war-axe
<hung from belt>         a waterskin
<worn around body>       a jade-shouldered black dustcloak
<worn about waist>       a black sandcloth sash
<worn on legs>           a pair of obsidian-studded dark leather leggings
<worn on feet>           a pair of scrab-shell reinforced boots


Nodding her subtle approval to the rugged, goateed man before stepping back for a full address, you say, in sirihish:
    "Firsts of the Seventh, you are ready."

Looking from face to face, you say, in sirihish:
    "I know there have been rumours, after some allegedly shocking incidents last week."

You notice: The wide-faced dwarf keeps his gaze forward head up.

You say, in sirihish:
    "I regret to inform you all that such rumours have a grounding in reality. This is the reason that the Lord Templar Drydek Kasix does not currently stand at my side."

Currently, you say, in sirihish:
    "I do not expect my barracks to be a field of War, no matter who you are. I am disgusted that such occurred."

The wide-faced dwarf's expression is stony as he continues to look forward as your words addresses the unit.

You say, in sirihish:
    "But as in War, if I am assaulted, I will defend myself. As has been my record, I was not the one to fall."

A foreign presence contacts your mind.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf looks straight ahead, squinting briefly.

You say, in sirihish:
    "Thus, without a feeling of bitterness or spite, I would call a moment of silence to reflect upon the Lord Templar's passing, after a life dedicated to the Highlord."

The rugged, goateed man exhales and then bows his head.

The wide-faced dwarf lowers his head in a deep bow.

The serpentine braided templar lowers her eyes in solemn reverence.

The cherubic, ginger-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
    "Ah, Lady Lyvren. If you could be so kind as to assemble Hustyn's unit and bring them in for review this morning, that would be just splendid."

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf bows her head.

You contact the cherubic, ginger-haired man with the Way.

The stout, raven-haired woman lowers her head, with a look of confusion crossing her face.

You send a telepathic message to the cherubic, ginger-haired man:
    "Great Lord Eligeth, forgive me touching upon your mind. I have assembled and readied the Firsts. To which yard would you have me bring them to you for review?"

The serpentine braided templar lifts her eyes and looks away, touching her temple.

The cherubic, ginger-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
    "Oh, let's march them down here to the Templar quarters, shall we?"

The wide-faced dwarf remains with his head bowed.

The cherubic, ginger-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
    "You do know where the mansions are, yes? I'll send someone to meet you and bring everyone in."

You send a telepathic message to the cherubic, ginger-haired man:
    "So it shall be done. Great Lord."

[Adhira]

Sharply, as she refocuses, you say, in sirihish:
     "Unit. The Great Lord Commander of this Unit is offering you all a great honour."

The rugged, goateed man lifts his head and his eyes dart towards you.

The wide-faced dwarf lifts his head and straightens back at attention.

You say, in sirihish:
     "I expect the absolute pinnacle of behaviour. A breach of this order is death."

Stepping around the line, you say, in sirihish:
     "Form on me."

Stabbing a finger towards the stout, raven-haired woman, you say, in sirihish:
     "You especially."

The wide-faced dwarf turns on the rugged, goateed man's movement to form up on you.

   
--- A march through the Commoner's Quarter and Templar's Quarter! ---


The serpentine braided templar comes to a stop at the head of the street then turns down into it, at march.

The wide-faced dwarf's armored boots steps echo with those of the others as they march along.

The serpentine braided templar keeps an eye out as she walks, checking each person not in her formation.

You think:
     "There is a split here. We should wait for who has come to fetch us."

The stout, raven-haired woman watches the others, trying to stay in tight formation.

The serpentine braided templar cuts down her dawdle to a halt, reangling the helm at her side so as to be more straight.

The wide-faced dwarf straightens to attention as they come to a halt, shoulders back, chest out.

Over her shoulder, you say, in sirihish:
     "We await a messenger who will lead us further."

The rugged, goateed man says, in sirihish:
     "Aye, Lady Templar."

The serpentine braided templar stands patiently at the head of her group, eyes flicking from person to person on the street, still.

A foreign presence contacts your mind.

The stout, raven-haired woman nods in silence then puts her arms straight and back too.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman sends you a telepathic message:
     "Aha, Lady Templar Lyvrenxice!"

You contact the fleshy, rubenesque young woman with the Way.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman sends you a telepathic message:
     "The Great Lord has sent me to fetch you and your party."

You send a telepathic message to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman:
     "I am she. We currently await you at the crossroads at the centre of the Mansions' row, close to the Guillotine's entrance."

The serpentine braided templar lightly touches her temple.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman sends you a telepathic message:
     "Certainly, certainly. I'll be right there."

You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.
You dissolve the psychic link.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman has arrived from the east, scurrying down the street on dainty, high-heeled feet.

The rugged, goateed man looks down at the fleshy, rubenesque young woman.

At a side glance, the wide-faced dwarf looks up at the fleshy, rubenesque young woman.

Spotting the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, the serpentine braided templar lifts a hand in greeting and acknowledgement.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf looks up at the fleshy, rubenesque young woman.

You look down at the fleshy, rubenesque young woman.
This woman's cup quite figuratively runneth over, as the pale, well-oiled
sheath of her buttery soft skin seems scarcely able to contain the heaping
bulges that comprise her excessive physique. A wreath of tight, shimmering
ringlets plummets from her scalp, black as Drov's heart at midnight on a
moonless night. The features these curls frame are gently blunted and round,
as though sculpted from some material that had melted slightly under heat.
She's a creature of ample proportion, for sure, which implies a life spent
in lavish excess. This impression is furthered by her pale colouration as
well as the utter lack of scarring or muscle definition to her fleshy form.
With every movement, her pendulous breasts and upper arms sway and jiggle,
yet she carries these bountiful assets sturdily upon her dainty, tiny feet.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman is in excellent condition.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman is using:
<worn in hair>           a deep crimson plume
<worn on face>           a transparent red silk neckscarf
<worn in left ear>       an earring of glittering black glass
<worn in right ear>      an earring of glittering black glass
<worn around neck>       a three-row, black pearl choker
<worn on torso>          a long, form-fitting red silk dress
<worn around wrist>      an ornamental, black-leather bracelet
<worn around wrist>      an ornamental, black-leather bracelet
<worn on legs>           a pair of black silk tights
<worn on feet>           a pair of tall, high-heeled red boots


You think:
     "Ooooh. Not bad."

The stout, raven-haired woman looks down at the fleshy, rubenesque young woman.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman skitters in, somewhat out of breath, which causes her copious bosom to heave dramatically.

A small smile eases onto the serpentine braided templar's lips as she sizes up the fleshy, rubenesque young woman.

Lavishly, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman dips at the waist for you, constricted by the tight wrap of her dress.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman looks up at you, peeking up with beady black eyes.

You say to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, in sirihish:
     "I am Lady Lyvren of the Blue, reporting with the Firsts of the Seventh under command of the Great Lord Commander Eligeth Rennik, the Red."

You think:
     "I would not say no."
     "Well, yes, I probably would. You don't tangle with your master's property."

With a dip of her head that causes the plume in her hair to wobble, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman exclaims to you, in sirihish:
     "Oh, it's truly a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance in person!"

Indicating herself with a tiny bob of her uppermost chin, the bottom chin wobbling a little, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "I'm Tizueritte. But you can call me Tiz."

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman dimples a plump-cheeked smile for you, then finally scours the rest of those gathered with the scope of her beady, dark stare.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman looks up at the rugged, goateed man, from toe to head.

You say to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, in sirihish:
     "Thank you Tiz. Sergeant Hustyn's Unit is prepared to continue, at your convenience."

The wide-faced dwarf's own beady eyes remain forward and keen on the rugged, goateed man.

The rugged, goateed man remains at attention, his jade-trimmed chitin greathelm held at his side.

The serpentine braided templar steps aside to give the fleshy, rubenesque young woman more leeway to see the soldiers.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf stands statue-like, helm under her arm.

Taking a couple steps toward the rugged, goateed man, wide hips wagging with each step, her balance seeming precarious upon her tiny heeled feet, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "Would you care to introduce me, Lady Templar? If it's not too much trouble..."

Trailing off poignantly, her voice a husky purr as she considers the rugged, goateed man from not far off, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman says, in sirihish:
     "I do like to be acquainted with those I'll be entertaining."

With a gracious nod, you say to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, in sirihish:
     "Of course not, allow me..."

Indicating the rugged, goateed man, you say, in sirihish:
     "This is Sergeant Huss. Quite the fellow, I would have you know. His family have given years of exceptional service to His Arm."

Continuing on to the wide-faced dwarf, you say, in sirihish:
     "Corporal Meso. Champion of the Known, and well respected Senior Red of House Tor prior to the renovations. He currently commands all training in this Unit."

The wide-faced dwarf strainghtens ever so faintly from his already straight backed stance at attention, filling his chest fuller adding some body to his short short stature.

You notice: The stout, raven-haired woman twists her lips to the side, glancing down at the fleshy, rubenesque young woman's feet a moment.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman slowly pivots to regard each soldier as they're introduced, her hands coming to rest upon her hips.

Pointing to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf, you say, in sirihish:
     "Private Shrinty, also previously of Tor. An expert warrior in the same vein as the Corporal, she has fought alongside and for His Arm for over a decade."

Coming to a stop at the end, gesturing to the stout, raven-haired woman, you say, in sirihish:
     "Recruit Essa. Rather new to His Arm, and I would say very out of her depth right now."

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman bends forward somewhat to look at the wide-faced dwarf and the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf closer, though she isn't all that much taller than a dwarf herself.

Lastly, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman sets her eye upon the stout, raven-haired woman, crawling a look across her from top to bottom.

The serpentine braided templar steps back to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman's side.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman looks up at the stout, raven-haired woman, tapping a fingertip against her blunt chin.

The stout, raven-haired woman straightens up a little more.

Giving an excited little hop, which sets her assets wobbling like a drunk trying to find his way home, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman exclaims to you, in sirihish:
     "Oh, they're marvelous!"

Even after the fleshy, rubenesque young woman's feet stop moving, it takes the rest of her a second or two to catch up.

Edging into a grin, eyes blatantly wandering from the fleshy, rubenesque young woman's face to catch some of the wobbly action, you say to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, in sirihish:
     "That they are, Tiz."

Darting her tongue out to wet her lips before trailing a look off down the road, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "Well, I suppose it doesn't pay to keep the Great Lord waiting..."

Stepping into line, you say to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, in sirihish:
     "It would be rude of us should we do so. On your lead."

Your mood is now extra nervous.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman beckons for the group to follow with a twist of one hand, then sets off down the street.

You think:
     "Given circumstances, I cannot imagine all of this is for my benefit."
     "Right now, I suspect it ends with my guts on the floor."

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf marches along with the unit.

Hustling along, her posture perfect despite her totteringly high heels, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman walks east.
You follow the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, and walk east.

The serpentine braided templar moves with a military precision after the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, face calm.

As the fleshy, rubenesque young woman walks, anyone walking behind her is gifted a rather generous view.

The serpentine braided templar makes sure to catch what sights of the fleshy, rubenesque young woman she can.

Leading a small entourage down the street, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman walks east.

From the high, vaulted windows of the lowly-built manors, you get the sense of being observed. Watched. Considered.

Trotting along down the street, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman walks east.
You follow the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, and walk east.

You think:
     "This is unnerving."

Every so often, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman peeks back behind herself, over the assembled group.

The stout, raven-haired woman glances upwards and continues with the others.

The rugged, goateed man marches along behind you, shoulders set stiffly.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman turns southwards down a winding side street.

The wide-faced dwarf marches with the others in uniformed formation, armored boots echoing their steps.

The serpentine braided templar keeps eyes level and posture precise as she marches, no distractions catching her attention.

As you progress southward, you pass beneath the cool shadow of the Highlord's Tower, shortened by the time of day, but blanketing a few of the manors in black.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman walks south.
You follow the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, and walk south.

Near the Templar Mansions [N, E, S]
   The streets in this quarter of Allanak widen at this point, and
are paved with large, even stones of deep gray and black.  Long, low
mansions make up the bulk of the buildings here, belonging to the
templars of the city, whose family and individual emblems can be seen
painted in ornate detail over the doorways.
   These sedately winding streets shoot off in various directions,
although the constant presence of the Highlord's dark tower to the
west is a stable landmark.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman is standing here.
The sharp-featured, blue-robed templar is here, smiling pleasantly.
The stout, raven-haired woman has arrived from the north.
The rugged, goateed man has arrived from the north.
The wide-faced dwarf has arrived from the north.
The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf has arrived from the north.

Bowing primly upon passing him, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman says to the sharp-featured, blue-robed templar, in sirihish:
     "Lord Templar Anarak. A pleasure as always."

You think:
     "I have been down here many a time..."

The rugged, goateed man takes advantage of the pause to bow as well.

The serpentine braided templar makes a polite acknowledgement to the sharp-featured, blue-robed templar as she passes him by, at march.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman skirts across the street to a courtyard whose gates arc up over the street.

The wide-faced dwarf bows along with the others to the sharp-featured, blue-robed templar.

Daintily pacing along, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman walks east.
You follow the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, and walk east.

[Adhira]

Outside a Templar Mansion [E, W, Save]
   The wide street ends here, before a long, low stone building, widening
even further to form a small courtyard, paved with large, even stones of
deep gray and black. 
Covered in intricate designs, a stone planter rests by the roadside here.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman is standing here.
The stout, raven-haired woman has arrived from the west.
The rugged, goateed man has arrived from the west.
The wide-faced dwarf has arrived from the west.
The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf has arrived from the west.

You think:
     "... but never under so much pressure to be perfect."
     "This is my life on the line."

As the fleshy, rubenesque young woman approaches the door to the manor, she fluffs her ringlets, adjusting them just-so.

The serpentine braided templar subtly checks down her front.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman stands on the threshold of the door for a moment, placing a hand to her temple.

Her eyes gone soft, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "I'm checking to see if one of the Great Lord's acquaintances will also be attending."

The serpentine braided templar draws to a stop when the fleshy, rubenesque young woman does, the halt coming suddenly on her part.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf halts in her position in the formation.

Looking to the door over one shoulder, which she then shrugs daintily, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "Appears the Grand Lady is tied down with duties. Isn't she always."

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman heaves a loud sigh of disappointment and backtracks from the manor.

Back out into the road, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman walks west.
You follow the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, and walk west.

Near the Templar Mansions [N, E, S]
   The streets in this quarter of Allanak widen at this point, and
are paved with large, even stones of deep gray and black.  Long, low
mansions make up the bulk of the buildings here, belonging to the
templars of the city, whose family and individual emblems can be seen
painted in ornate detail over the doorways.
   These sedately winding streets shoot off in various directions,
although the constant presence of the Highlord's dark tower to the
west is a stable landmark.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman is standing here.
The sharp-featured, blue-robed templar is here, smiling pleasantly.
The stout, raven-haired woman has arrived from the east.
The rugged, goateed man has arrived from the east.
The wide-faced dwarf has arrived from the east.
The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf has arrived from the east.

With a little nod, you say to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, in sirihish:
     "She has many duties."

Her hair swaying about her shoulders as she nods in agreement, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman exclaims to you, in sirihish:
     "Oh, certainly. I'm not really privy to what any of them are, but I'm sure they're all quite important!"

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman beams at you, her cheeks flushing, and continues on her way.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman walks south.
You follow the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, and walk south.

Outside a Templar Mansion [N, E, Save]
     The wide street ends here, before a long, low stone building,
widening even further to form a small courtyard, paved with large,
even stones of deep gray and black.
A small white stone bench sits just off the road.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman is standing here.
The stout, raven-haired woman has arrived from the north.
The rugged, goateed man has arrived from the north.
The wide-faced dwarf has arrived from the north.
The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf has arrived from the north.

With a flash of a smile, you say to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, in sirihish:
     "Very important, Tiz."

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman comes to a halt just outside a door, then glances back to those assembled and takes a deep breath.

Excitedly, clapping the flats of her palms together, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman exclaims, in sirihish:
     "We're heeere!"

You build a psychic barrier around your mind.

The serpentine braided templar exhales a breath as she takes an admiring look across the mansion.

The stout, raven-haired woman looks up from the fleshy, rubenesque young woman to the mansion a monent or two.

Paused outside the door and speaking in a somewhat lower voice than her usual trill, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman exclaims, in sirihish:
     "I'm sure I don't need to tell you, soldiers--best behaviour. Not that I'm at all uncertain the Lady Templar will keep an eye out!"

You think:
     "Here we go."

The rugged, goateed man nods slightly.

Softly, you say to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, in sirihish:
     "I have warned them."

The wide-faced dwarf nods firmly, once.

Giddily, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman claps her hands again and barrels for the door, bouncing along.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf nods once.

The stout, raven-haired woman shifts her weight from foot to foot after nodding.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman opens the door.

Bounding in, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman walks east.
You follow the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, and walk east.

A Lantern Lit Greeting Chamber [N, S, W, U, Quit, Save]
   A large basket of airily woven leather straps sits beside the door as an
invitation for guests to lighten their burdens, and as testimony to the
owner's taste.  The floor is bare, fastidiously kept stone arranged in an
angular and simple mosaic of a stylized herd of carru.  The walls are
draped, as a pavillion, with lightly flowing cloth of bright and rich
color to compliment the tiles.  Red and orange and brown are most
prominent.  The sashes are adorned with ties and careful slits to aid
air-flow through them at each entry.  In the center of the room, a large,
bone rack is set with lanterns hanging from several arms arranged on it.
A ladder of rope and bone leads into a meshed doorway above.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman is standing here.
The stout, raven-haired woman has arrived from the west.
The rugged, goateed man has arrived from the west.
The wide-faced dwarf has arrived from the west.
The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf has arrived from the west.

The serpentine braided templar moves inside in a quiet fashion - as quiet as an armoured woman can be.

The rugged, goateed man's eyes shift to take in the chamber.

You notice: The wide-faced dwarf briefly takes in the fashion of the chamber.

As she leads the group into a desert-hued chamber that seems... surprisingly tasteful and modest, for what it is, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman exclaims, in sirihish:
     "Welcome!"

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman closes the door.

With a smile, you say to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, in sirihish:
     "We are honoured to be here."

You think:
     "I should have had a proper meal before I came."

Absolutely glowing, her cheeks bright pink, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "And it's an honour to have you. The Great Lord has instructed me to bring you and Sergeant Huss through, first."

The rugged, goateed man glances behind himself and nods at the wide-faced dwarf.

Having come to a halt the wide-faced dwarf settles into a silent stance of attention.

The serpentine braided templar turns briefly to look at the rugged, goateed man before stepping forward.

Looking to the wide-faced dwarf and the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf and the stout, raven-haired woman, tapping at her chin, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman exclaims, in sirihish:
     "If you'll wait here, I'll see if the Great Lord wishes me to bring refreshments!"

The stout, raven-haired woman nods, staying with the wide-faced dwarf and the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf stands at attention near the wide-faced dwarf.
The wide-faced dwarf nods to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf and the stout, raven-haired woman, remaining in place at attention.

Slyly, with a wink toward the soldiers, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman says, in sirihish:
     "He's got the most wonderful cook. Oh, how I love the jam he makes. I eat about five or six jars a day."

You say to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, in sirihish:
     "The Sergeant and I are ready, at the Great Lord's convenience."

The stout, raven-haired woman smiles nervously at the fleshy, rubenesque young woman.

The wide-faced dwarf offers a deep respectful nod to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman.

The serpentine braided templar laughs softly as she listens to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman beckons invitingly to the rugged, goateed man and you, then bounces off down the hallway.

Jiggling along, a templar and a soldier in tow, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman walks north.
You follow the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, and walk north.

An Adorned Entertainment Chamber [E, S, Quit, Save]
Adorned with bone and cloth shelving on almost every wall, this sitting
chamber has been decorated with some care.  Polished and stained to some
beauty, small wooden figurines sit here and there on shelves among glass
ornaments of nude humans in compromising and often erotic positions.
Cloth drapings hang on every open surface to cover the walls and floor.
Here and there between the shelves, a painting on hide is stretched.  On
one wall, a large bone shaft hangs, with rope and dyed feathers dangling
from it.  A large couch of cushions lies in the middle of the room, with
a few cushioned chairs around them for decoration.
A compact cylini table has been placed within easy reach of the lounge.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman is standing here.
The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier is here.
A black-haired, rip-scarred man stands on guard here.
The cherubic, ginger-haired templar is sitting on a low silk covered lounge.
The rugged, goateed man has arrived from the south.

The cherubic, ginger-haired templar glances up at the fleshy, rubenesque young woman's arrival, then turns his gaze slowly to you and the rugged, goateed man.

The serpentine braided templar steps in close behind the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, posture straight. Once through, and she has spotted the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, she immediately falls into a deep bow of reverence, which she holds.

Eyes searching the chamber, the rugged, goateed man looks down at the cherubic, ginger-haired templar.

The rugged, goateed man promptly bows low to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, coming down to one knee and staying there.

Oddly incongruous, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman doesn't bow just yet. Instead, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman scurries directly to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar's side, performing her prostration nearby.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman bows primly at the waist to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, just enough to afford a decent glimpse of the valley of her profound cleavage for all and sundry.

You think:
     "I like his home."

The cherubic, ginger-haired templar 's gaze drops momentarily towards the fleshy, rubenesque young woman's cleavage.

The serpentine braided templar continues to hold the bow made for the cherubic, ginger-haired templar.

Positively beaming, her eyes aglow with excitement as she bounces on her heels, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman asks the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
     "They're here, Great Lord! Shall I attend the soldiers?"

Clearing his throat, and making a gesture with his polished, bone-tipped quartz pen, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
     "Ah, yes. Good! Welcome, and all that. Lady Lyvren, Sergeant Hustyn."

Gesturing with his polished, bone-tipped quartz pen, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to the fleshy, rubenesque young woman, in sirihish:
     "Why yes, capital. Go see if they need anything to drink."

The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier dully eyes the soldiers.

Smoothly rising to her full height, standing at attention, you say, in sirihish:
     "Thank you for inviting us to your home, Great Lord. We are honoured to be here."

With a prompt, and surprisingly businesslike, nod, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman says to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
     "Oh, certainly. I'll take -real- good care of them."

Making no particular effort to straighten up from a low silk covered lounge, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "At ease, ladies and gentleman."

The rugged, goateed man remains kneeling a moment longer, then rises.

The serpentine braided templar does so, shifting to ease.

Breaking off from the cherubic, ginger-haired templar's side, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman slips on off toward the entryway again, though she pauses near the rugged, goateed man.

Daring to ghost a hand along his armoured shoulder, should he not prohibit it, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman asks the rugged, goateed man, in sirihish:
     "I'll see -you- in a while, hm?"

You think:
     "The Great Lord does enjoy granting such slaves."

The rugged, goateed man's eyes flicker towards the fleshy, rubenesque young woman a moment.

An Adorned Entertainment Chamber [E, S, Quit, Save]
Adorned with bone and cloth shelving on almost every wall, this sitting
chamber has been decorated with some care.  Polished and stained to some
beauty, small wooden figurines sit here and there on shelves among glass
ornaments of nude humans in compromising and often erotic positions.
Cloth drapings hang on every open surface to cover the walls and floor.
Here and there between the shelves, a painting on hide is stretched.  On
one wall, a large bone shaft hangs, with rope and dyed feathers dangling
from it.  A large couch of cushions lies in the middle of the room, with
a few cushioned chairs around them for decoration.
A compact cylini table has been placed within easy reach of the lounge.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman is standing here.
The rugged, goateed man is standing here.
The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier is here.
A black-haired, rip-scarred man stands on guard here.
The cherubic, ginger-haired templar is sitting on a low silk covered lounge.

With a faintly humourless smile, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar exclaims, in sirihish:
     "I do appreciate you bringing your men down here. One of those happy privileges of wearing a red robe, hmm? People come visit -you-! Hah!"

Eyes shifting towards the fleshy, rubenesque young woman for a second, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
     "... Among other privileges."

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman spares a smile for the rugged, goateed man, then departs.

Bouncing off, her heels clacking, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman walks south.

With a vague smile of her own, you say, in sirihish:
     "It is no trouble, Great Lord. The march and discipline is doing the men good."

Indicating a compact cylini table, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar asks you, in sirihish:
     "A drink, then?"

On a compact cylini table (here) :
a few empty silvery glass goblets
a dark-tinted azure bottle

Without much of a pause, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to the rugged, goateed man, in sirihish:
     "Sergeant, pour the Lady Templar a drink."

The serpentine braided templar opens her mouth to respond but just nods her approval after the rugged, goateed man is addressed.

Barking the response, the rugged, goateed man exclaims, in sirihish:
     "Aye, Great Lord Templar!"

Swiftly stepping over, the rugged, goateed man gets his silvery glass goblet from a compact cylini table.

You say to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
     "Thank you Great Lord, I would enjoy one."

You think:
     "Hopefully this is not the part where my guts end up on the floor."
     "I don't think I would like that very much."

The rugged, goateed man deftly removes the cork.

The rugged, goateed man fills up a silvery glass goblet from a dark-tinted azure bottle.

Offering it with a bow of his head, the rugged, goateed man gives you his silvery glass goblet.

Accepting your silvery glass goblet, you ask the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
     "Great Lord, would you like the Sergeant to pour you a glass too?"

look in goblet
It's full of a violet liquid.

You notice: With a small smile at the corner of his lips, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar watches you take the the goblet.

Agreeably, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
     "Delightful. And have one yourself, Sergeant. I insist."

You say to the rugged, goateed man, in sirihish:
     "Do the honours, Sergeant."

The rugged, goateed man nods quickly and returns to a compact cylini table.

The rugged, goateed man fills up a silvery glass goblet from a dark-tinted azure bottle.

Wiping it off absently, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar pockets his polished, bone-tipped quartz pen.

Offering it with a full bow, the rugged, goateed man gives his silvery glass goblet to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar.

Languidly, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar accepts his silvery glass goblet.

The rugged, goateed man steps back to the table to pour himself the final drink.
The rugged, goateed man fills up a silvery glass goblet from a dark-tinted azure bottle.

The rugged, goateed man holds his silvery glass goblet carefully, so as not to spill any, as he returns to your side.

The cherubic, ginger-haired templar lifts his silvery glass goblet to his pudgy lips, taking a long, delicate sip.

Lifting your silvery glass goblet to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, you say, in sirihish:
     "To our gracious host and Commander, and to the Highlord's Shadow."

Lowering it to her lips, you sip from your silvery glass goblet.
This thin wine tastes strongly of ocotillo blooms.

The rugged, goateed man lifts his silvery glass goblet as well.

You think:
     "Thank fuck."

The rugged, goateed man sips from his silvery glass goblet.

At a low silk covered lounge, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar speaks, beaming delightedly.

Lowering his silvery glass goblet, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
     "There, now the necessary pleasantries are concluded."

[Adhira]

The serpentine braided templar dips her head in acknowledgement of that, keeping her focus on the cherubic, ginger-haired templar but looking around him, as if unwilling to look upon him.

Gazing at you over the rim of , the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
    "So, first. I have received your missive. "

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman has arrived from the south, keeping to the perimeter of the room, not interfering.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman keeps her head down, making for the kitchen visible to the east.

The serpentine braided templar's breath catches subtly.

Inclining his head a fraction, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar asks you, in tatlum:
    "And there are a few points that we -really- should discuss, yes?"

Slipping into the matching language, without hesitance, you say to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in tatlum:
    "Yes Great Lord."

Raising a finger as if recollecting a thought, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar asks, in sirihish:
    "But first! Let's get on with what we're here for, eh?"

You think:
    "So I won't be dying just yet."

Clapping his palms together excitedly, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
    "Reviewing the troops and all that. Some rewards need to be handed out to those most deserving, I believe."

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman has arrived from the east, carrying a tray.

The serpentine braided templar acknowledges the cherubic, ginger-haired templar's words with a polite nod. She stands, still as a statue, her posture one of military poise.

Levering himself to his feet, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar stands up from a low silk covered lounge.

With her delicate chitin tray held aloft, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman makes her way quietly through the room, saying nothing. The tray is covered in slices of pie.

The rugged, goateed man remains mostly at stiff attention, one hand deviating to hold up his silvery glass goblet.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman looks up at the rugged, goateed man, subtly, in passing.

Indicating the rugged, goateed man's drink, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
    "You can take that with you, Sergeant. It's rather hot out in the gardens."

You think:
    "I should never act comfortable or casual in his presence."
    "That familiarity is disrespectful."

The black-haired, rip-scarred man exchanges a glance with the slash-scarred female half-giant soldier, and nods to her.

Passing through, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman walks south.

Nodding firmly, though the glass is all but empty, the rugged, goateed man says, in sirihish:
    "Aye, Great Lord Templar."

The serpentine braided templar keeps to her area of the room, regarding the edges of the cherubic, ginger-haired templar patiently.

At a languid pace, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar walks south.
The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier walks south.
The black-haired, rip-scarred man walks south.

The serpentine braided templar heads out tentatively.

A Lantern Lit Greeting Chamber [N, S, W, U, Quit, Save]
  A large basket of airily woven leather straps sits beside the door as an
invitation for guests to lighten their burdens, and as testimony to the
owner's taste.  The floor is bare, fastidiously kept stone arranged in an
angular and simple mosaic of a stylized herd of carru.  The walls are
draped, as a pavillion, with lightly flowing cloth of bright and rich
color to compliment the tiles.  Red and orange and brown are most
prominent.  The sashes are adorned with ties and careful slits to aid
air-flow through them at each entry.  In the center of the room, a large,
bone rack is set with lanterns hanging from several arms arranged on it.
A ladder of rope and bone leads into a meshed doorway above.
The cherubic, ginger-haired templar is standing here.
A black-haired, rip-scarred man stands on guard here.
Patrols here.
The rugged, goateed man has arrived from the north.

Flicking his fingers, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
    "Yes, yes. Come along."

Unhurriedly, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar walks south.
You follow the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, and walk south.

A Secluded Rock Garden [N, Save]
You are in a private garden surrounded by a high stone wall.
In the center of the garden is a pool of fine grained sands enclosed
by a border of smooth black stones.  Unusual rocks of all shapes and
sizes have been strategically placed in the pool and a series of patterns
and swirls has been drawn in the sands.  Two white stone benches are
situated on either side of the pool.  Small urns filled with different
colored sands have been placed between the benches.
A shadow falls over the area, driving off the uncomfortable heat.
A delicate chitin tray sits atop a bench here, offering pie and bread.
The cherubic, ginger-haired templar is standing here.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman is standing here.
The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf stands at attention.
The wide-faced dwarf seems intrigued with the pools of sand.
The stout, raven-haired woman is sitting on a small white stone bench.
The rugged, goateed man has arrived from the north.
The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier has arrived from the north.
The black-haired, rip-scarred man has arrived from the north.

Scrambling, the stout, raven-haired woman stands up from a small white stone bench.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman gives her polished, carved bone chalice to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf, bending down somewhat to pass it along.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman seems unbothered by the arriving templars and soldiers, just going through the motions of pouring and serving her wine.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf salutes and bows before the templars and salutes the rugged, goateed man.

Making her way out to the garden, you sip from your silvery glass goblet.
This thin wine tastes strongly of ocotillo blooms.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman fills up a polished, carved bone chalice from a dark-tinted azure bottle.

Beaming in a somewhat avuncular fashion, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar steps into the garden and surveys the gathered soldiers.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman fills up a polished, carved bone chalice from a dark-tinted azure bottle.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman gives her polished, carved bone chalice to the stout, raven-haired woman, setting it nearby, watching the scrambling.

The stout, raven-haired woman bows and salutes, standing with straight arms and back.

As the serpentine braided templar sets herself close by and facing the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, she takes the time to admire the garden, her interest evident in her expression.

Looking around the garden and spotting his soldiers and suddenly barking out a command, the rugged, goateed man exclaims, in sirihish:
    "Jade Sabers!  At attention, then to yer knees ta pay respects to the Great Lord Templar!"

The wide-faced dwarf stiffens to attention as the others arrive in the garden.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf kneels.

Moving back behind the soldiers and the templars, into the manor, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman walks north.

The serpentine braided templar dips into a quick bow out of respect for the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, not holding it.

The wide-faced dwarf salutes with a bow, promptly to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar and you.

The stout, raven-haired woman kneels after standing to attention.

The wide-faced dwarf falls to his knees before the presence of the cherubic, ginger-haired templar.

The rugged, goateed man lowers himself in a bow along with his soldiers, dropping to one knee for a moment.

The wide-faced dwarf bows deeply head.

The stout, raven-haired woman notices the rugged, goateed man and switches to one knee.

You think:
    "It really is a marvellous place."
    "Incentive for me, definitely."

Stroking his chin, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar sips thoughtfully from his silvery glass goblet as he watches everyone bustle into place.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman has arrived from the north, carrying a couple of crimson lanterns.
Unseen in the background of all the hubub, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman flits around the garden, hanging a couple lanterns to bathe the sand and rocks in more available light.

You think:
    "This is the most pleasant I have ever seen him."
    "That is the scariest part."

Hitching up onto her tiptoes to hang it over a bench, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman drops her unlit glass-sided red lantern.

A Secluded Rock Garden [N, Save]
You are in a private garden surrounded by a high stone wall.
In the center of the garden is a pool of fine grained sands enclosed
by a border of smooth black stones.  Unusual rocks of all shapes and
sizes have been strategically placed in the pool and a series of patterns
and swirls has been drawn in the sands.  Two white stone benches are
situated on either side of the pool.  Small urns filled with different
colored sands have been placed between the benches.
A shadow falls over the area, driving off the uncomfortable heat.
A lit glass-sided red lantern hangs over the threshols.
A lit glass-sided red lantern hangs over a bench here.
A delicate chitin tray sits atop a bench here, offering pie and bread.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman is standing here.
A black-haired, rip-scarred man stands on guard here.
The cherubic, ginger-haired templar is standing here.
The slash-scarred female half-giant stands here.
The rugged, goateed man is standing here.
The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf is on one knee.
The wide-faced dwarf kneels, head bowed deeply.
The stout, raven-haired woman is on a knee.

Waving a hand, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar asks, in sirihish:
    "Alright, troops. On your feet. Parade rest, yes?"

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf stands up.
The stout, raven-haired woman stands up.
Drawing to his feet from the kneeling bow, the wide-faced dwarf stands up.

The serpentine braided templar looks aside to her soldiers and gives a knowing nod.

The wide-faced dwarf makes his way over to the others and stands with them at ease.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf stands at ease, hands behind her back.

The cherubic, ginger-haired templar saunters down the ranks, eyeing each soldier in turn.

The stout, raven-haired woman stands at ease with the others after watching what they do.

The serpentine braided templar straightens up in the process, face fixed in a neutrally calm expression.

With a humbled briefness as he stands amongst the others, the wide-faced dwarf looks up at the cherubic, ginger-haired templar.

Mostly to himself, catching sight of the stout, raven-haired woman, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
    "Ah, a new recruit. That's perfect."

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman gets her slice of ginka pie from a delicate chitin tray, snatching one up while she watches the festivities.

The wide-faced dwarf stands his horned, demon-carved helm under one arm and his polished, carved bone chalice in the other.

Staring ahead, eyes widening the stout, raven-haired woman stiffens a little.

Handing his silvery glass goblet to the black-haired, rip-scarred man so that he can stand with his hands clasped behind his back, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
    "Soldiers of the Jade Sabers! I hope you're all wondering why I've assembled you here today."

Taking a brief moment to take him in, before her eyes fall back to his edges, you look at the cherubic, ginger-haired templar.
A mop of curly hair tinted a gingery shade of red tops the head of this
chubby-cheeked man.  His deep blue eyes are saucer-like in their large,
rounded shape and rest above a rounded button nose dotted with freckles.
His pale complexion is flushed at his pudgy cheeks and his lips tint a
slightly deeper shade of red.  A soft layer of fat pads his muscular
physique, which though average in height for his race seems shorter for
the stocky nature of its form.
The cherubic, ginger-haired templar is in excellent condition.

The cherubic, ginger-haired templar is using:
<worn around neck>       a dragon medallion
<worn about throat>      a medallion of Tektolnes
<slung across back>      a jade-emblazoned, obsidian longsword
<worn on torso>          a silt-horror shell breastplate
<worn on right shoulder> a red silk sash
<worn around wrist>      a black and jade sleeping dragon bracelet
<worn around wrist>      an elegant jade and ivory-linked bracelet
<worn on right finger>   an obsidian templar ring
<worn on left finger>    a silver signet ring
<worn around body>       a red, hooded templar's robe
<worn about waist>       a black belt
<worn on legs>           a pair of black, studded-leather pants
<worn on feet>           a pair of crimson silk boots


The wide-faced dwarf's face is his statement, stony in expression, yet his eyes belieing the sentiment of wonderment.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman takes a bite of her slice of ginka pie, taking a hefty bite.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf nods her head simply.

The serpentine braided templar offers a polite nodded agreement to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar's words.

Pacing back down the line, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
    "Times have been tough for the Seventh Infantry, lately."

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman sits on a small white stone bench, incongruously, on the edge of the group, watching the cherubic, ginger-haired templar.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman looks up at the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, bathed in the crimson glow of the lanterns.

Heavily, the slash-scarred female half-giant soldier shifts on her feet, not entirely watching the proceedings.

The stout, raven-haired woman nods in agreement, trying not to shift her weight.

Shaking his head with mock sadness, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
    "The honourable discharges. the... exceptionally dishonourable discharges."

The serpentine braided templar winces subtly at the latter words.

The giant crimson sun rises in the east.

Delicately, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
    "Yes, well. I know we'd all rather forget about that one, wouldn't we."

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman pops more pie into her mouth, munching quietly and maintaining interest on the cherubic, ginger-haired templar.

You notice: The wide-faced dwarf keeps his gaze forward, listening to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar's words attentively.

The stout, raven-haired woman furrows her brow, nodding regardless.

Lifting his chin, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar exclaims, in sirihish:
    "But now, it has come to my attention that one among you has earned special attention!"

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf glances between the wide-faced dwarf and the rugged, goateed man.

Gesturing at the wide-faced dwarf, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
    "Corporal Meso! Step forward."

You think:
    "Oh dear. This could be..."
    "Very good or very bad."

Drawing in a breath the wide-faced dwarf takes a large step form from the line.

The serpentine braided templar shifts her jade eyes onto the wide-faced dwarf.

The wide-faced dwarf comes back to attention, having stepped forward.

Titillated, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman gasps and places a hand upon the bulge of her chest, watching with wide eyes.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf watches the wide-faced dwarf step forward.

The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier continues to watch with an impassive and mostly blank expression.

Eyeing the wide-faced dwarf with a small, satisfied smile, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to the wide-faced dwarf, in sirihish:
    "Corporal Meso, you have truly distinguished yourself."

You think:
    "Still no mention if that's good or bad distinguishment."

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman crams the rest of her partially eaten slice of ginka pie into her mouth, sitting on the edge of her seat on a small white stone bench.

The wide-faced dwarf draws in a breath and lifts his chin slightly, trying to stand a bit straighter under the cherubic, ginger-haired templar's words.

You think:
    "Please don't let this be around destroying what's left of this Unit."

His smile growing, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to the wide-faced dwarf, in sirihish:
    "And now, I am delighted to offer you one of the highest honours currently available to one of your... Stature."

You think:
    "Still a loaded sentence."

The wide-faced dwarf's beady eyes glint in the lantern light.

The serpentine braided templar pauses in the moment, awaiting further words.

The wide-faced dwarf look forward with stony humilty etched in his features.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf smiles faintly, one that could just be the play of light on her face.

Spreading his arms wide, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to the wide-faced dwarf, in sirihish:
    "You, Corporal, will be opening the very next Arena games."

You think:
    "Well that's not terrible. Or is this an opening where he's meant to 'finish off a few Gaj'?"

Bowing his head deeply, his gruff voice thick, the wide-faced dwarf says to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
    "Gratitude, Lord Commander."

The serpentine braided templar gives an impressed few nods at that, considering the wide-faced dwarf.

In exactly the same tone of voice, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar asks the wide-faced dwarf, in sirihish:
    "When you are bloodily executed as a traitor to the Highlord. Guards?"

[Adhira]

The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier steps forward ponderous but purposeful toward the wide-faced dwarf.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman gasps!

The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier attempts to grab the wide-faced dwarf, but he wrestles away.

With a deep frown, the slash-scarred female half-giant soldier says to the wide-faced dwarf, in sirihish:
    "Stop it."

The wide-faced dwarf looks a bit dumbfounded.

The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier subdues the wide-faced dwarf, despite his attempts to struggle away.

The serpentine braided templar can't help but sigh, studying the wide-faced dwarf.

As it slips from his grasp, shattering on the ground, the rugged, goateed man discards his silvery glass goblet.

The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier takes a firm hold of the wide-faced dwarf's arms.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman brings both her hands to her mouth, regarding the scene with ashen cheeks.

The stout, raven-haired woman gasps.

You think:
    "Is this really necessary?"

Confidently, the slash-scarred female half-giant soldier says to the wide-faced dwarf, in sirihish:
    "You are being in the Arena, that is a big honor."

You think:
    "Really?"

With something like contempt, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to the wide-faced dwarf, in sirihish:
    "And you were doing so well, too. For a dwarf."

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf looks at the wide-faced dwarf.

Staring dumbfoundedly, the rugged, goateed man looks down at the wide-faced dwarf.

The wide-faced dwarf exhales, not struggling.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf shouts, in sirihish:
    "Can I also be thrown in the Arena with the Corporal, Lord Templar?"

The serpentine braided templar keeps a passive expression as she watches this.

You think:
    "Don't do this."

Confusedly, the slash-scarred female half-giant soldier looks down at the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf.

Sharply, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to the rugged, goateed man, in sirihish:
    "Sergeant, get that dwarf in order."

Jaw set tightly, the rugged, goateed man exclaims to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf, in sirihish:
    "Sabers, silence!"

The wide-faced dwarf looks down with a brow.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman keeps very quiet, looking down toward her boots now.

Addressing the group at large, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
    "Raising a hand against -any- Templar of the Highlord is treason. Death for any commoner."

You think:
    "If I argue or try anything now, I get harmed. Let's give this time to unfold."

Looking back, the wide-faced dwarf says to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf, in sirihish:
    "Private, mind your sergeant."

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf remains at attention.

The serpentine braided templar squints in confusion.

Narrowing his eyes, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
    "And for one of the trusted soldiers of His Arm, that crime is all the fouler."

You think:
    "But he did not actually raise a hand."

The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier holds patiently still, enormous hands on the wide-faced dwarf.

You think:
    "He nearly did, he was going to, but he did not."

The wide-faced dwarf says to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
    "If my fate is the arena, then it is so, Lord Commander."

The wide-faced dwarf says to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
    "I am but a soldier, one that follows orders, to my death."

Succinctly, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to the wide-faced dwarf, in sirihish:
    "Yes. Yes, you did."

Raising an eyebrow, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar asks you, in sirihish:
    "You have anything to say in regards to your Corporal's behaviour?"

You say to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
    "Yes, Great Lord Commander, if you would permit me. I agree such sentence applies should a commoner raise their hand to any of His Templarate. Yet, this soldier did not, and was unable to do so."

Sardonically, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
    "Really. Do go on."

The wide-faced dwarf looks crest fallen, held firmly by the slash-scarred female half-giant soldier.

Keeping her cool, you say to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
    "The Lord Templar Kasix brought the Corporal into the room to stand watch, to make sure no problems would occur. The Corporal had explicit orders to break up any violence that was to occur... and which it did."

You say to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
    "Yet the Highlord did cast the Corporal to His Arena before the Corporal could get close, the Corporal with every intention of stopping a foolish and murderous duel."

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman regards you in silence, one hand still clasped over her mouth.

The black-haired, rip-scarred man stares at you blankly.

The wide-faced dwarf says to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
    "Lord Commander, even in stepping between I would not have struck a blow either way."

The serpentine braided templar shoots the wide-faced dwarf a 'shut up' look so sharply.

In tones of mild disbelief, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
    "So you're saying he only -tried- to kill Lord Templar Drydek, but because he didn't get the chance... We should let him go? "

You notice: The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier squeezes the wide-faced dwarf a little harder.

The wide-faced dwarf says to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
    "I would have set myself in the way of harm, either of their weapons to strike me dead in place."

You say to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
    "No, Great Lord Commander. I killed the Lord Templar Drydek Kasix, by my own hand. This Corporal was present to prevent violence from either side."

Snorting, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar asks, in tatlum:
    "Well, he didn't do a very fucking good job of it, did he?"

You say, in sirihish:
    "No, Great Lord, but neither did the Lord Templar Drydek do a good job of slaying me. I bear the responsibility for his death, entirely. Justified, as I have written, but it was on me. I tell the truth regarding my soldiers, Great Lord."

After considering your for a moment, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in tatlum:
    "Are you sure that's the position you wish to take, Lyvren? Because if you intend to lie about what happened, you should have picked a slightly less public place than the middle of the barracks."

Indicating the wide-faced dwarf, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in tatlum:
    "If your sense of nobility is slighted by Meso taking the fall for your mistakes, by all means, take his place in the Arena."

You say to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in tatlum:
    "No matter what I could have demanded of the Corporal, he is too loyal to the Highlord and his Tor training to pick a side to the death. The only order he followed was to defend me, but I was to slay the Lord Templar."

Lifting a brow, you say to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in tatlum:
    "Of course not, Great Lord. All I ask is that he be given a chance, by the Highlord's reckoning in His Arena, to prove his innocence."

It having fallen as he was grabbed, the wide-faced dwarf drops his polished, carved bone chalice.

With a nasty little smile, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in tatlum:
    "Oh, he'll have a chance. But this arguing is pointless."

The serpentine braided templar bows her head respectfully to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar.

Glancing from you to the wide-faced dwarf, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in tatlum:
    "Lord Drydek Kasix is dead. Someone is going to pay. It can be you, or the dwarf. Choose now."

The serpentine braided templar takes a deep breath, regarding the cherubic, ginger-haired templar.

The cherubic, ginger-haired templar takes the last bite of his rounded piece of black, brandy-filled candy, chewing delicately while he waits.

You say to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in tatlum:
    "May the Highlord judge us for what was done. If anybody was to pay, it was the Lord Templar Drydek. If this is your decision to punish the Corporal, Great Lord, I must accept it. If it is your decision to punish me, the same."

The wide-faced dwarf glances between you and the cherubic, ginger-haired templar.

His tone turning razor sharp, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
    "Yes. He -has- judged. I'll just take your prevarication as agreement."

The serpentine braided templar nods once, neutrally expressed.

With a flick of his fingers, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to the slash-scarred female half-giant soldier, in sirihish:
    "Get that traitor out of my sight."

The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier nods immediately to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar and hefts the wide-faced dwarf firmly to his feet.

The wide-faced dwarf grunts as he's jerked around and carried off.

You think:
    "This is kankshit."

The slash-scarred female half-giant soldier walks north, dragging the wide-faced dwarf behind her.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf watches the half-giant go.

The rugged, goateed man solemnly watches.

Turning back to the rugged, goateed man and you, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar asks, in sirihish:
    "Now -this- is why we don't make dwarves into Sergeants, yes?"

The rugged, goateed man bows his head.

look in goblet
It's about half full of a violet liquid.

Lifting your silvery glass goblet to her lips after, you say, in sirihish:
    "Yes Great Lord."

Your mood is now furious.

You sip from your silvery glass goblet.
This thin wine tastes strongly of ocotillo blooms.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman peers off toward the entrance to the manner, her demeanor subdued now.

His coversation tone returned, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to the rugged, goateed man, in sirihish:
    "Sergeant. You can take these soldiers back to the barracks. I trust they've -all- learned from this little demonstration."

Quietly, the rugged, goateed man says, in sirihish:
    "Aye, Great Lord Templar."

Clearing his throat and uttering a subdued command, the rugged, goateed man says, in sirihish:
    "Jade Sabers, with me."

You think:
    "Right. Well. Fuck my career."
    "I suppose I'm done."

To you, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar asks, in sirihish:
    "And, Lady Templar?"

The stout, raven-haired woman falls in with the rugged, goateed man.

You ask the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
    "Yes Great Lord?"

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman freezes in anticipation, clenching her hands together.

The rugged, goateed man bows to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, lowering to a knee for a moment before rising.

Bringing his hand back, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says, in sirihish:
    "Don't ever talk back to a Red in his own mansion again."

The cherubic, ginger-haired templar brings his palm around in a forceful slap to the side of your face.

Marching off, the rugged, goateed man walks north.
The stout, raven-haired woman walks north.
The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf walks north.

Expecting the blow, the serpentine braided templar takes the slap, rolling with it. She accepts it fully, showing no pain or anger, only calm, all while a mark appears on her cheek from the impact.

The fleshy, rubenesque young woman averts her eyes.

You think:
    "Ow. That FUCKING hurt."

Dryly, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
    "Pray to the Highlord that no other Blues go missing, because next time, we will -not- waste time looking for a convenient scapegoat."

You feel even more furious.

In tones of firm command, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
    "You will stop telling people that you killed Lord Drydek. Meso will be taking the entire blame for that little incident. That way you might actually have a career to salvage."

Demurely spoken, you ask the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
    "Yes Great Lord. What stated reason is the official story for the dwarf's betrayal?"

Narrowing his eyes, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
    "I don't care. He's a fucking dwarf. They're crazy."

You say, in sirihish:
    "Yes they are, Great Lord."

You think:
    "He must have pushed Drydek towards this."
    "And he's now furious I frustrated him."
    "Of all the Reds to sponsor me, why do I have one that absolutely loathes me, exactly?"

Irritably, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
    "I'll be scrounging up another Blue to assist you with the 7th Infantry. Do try not to publicly murder this one. Try really hard."

You think:
    "He makes it sound like I just upped and did it randomly."
    "As opposed to the bitch trying to kill me randomly."

Demure still, you say to the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, in sirihish:
    "Yes, Great Lord."
   
Flatly, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
    "And be aware that if Drydek was still alive, he'd be standing right in your place too."

You say, in sirihish:
    "I understand that would have been the case, but the Lord Templar plotted my death. I could not sit idly by, Great Lord. Not after he tried to kill me publicly."

You say, in sirihish:
    "You, Great Lord, taught me to never back down from an open challenge. To never be a coward or show weakness."
    "Worse yet, he mocked you, just before he drew his knife. I did not wish to report this."

Angrily dismissive, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar exclaims to you, in sirihish:
    "I don't give a half-elven shit about who started what! I care about -my- Blue Robes making a fucking scene all over the place!"

Jabbing a finger, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
    "My blue robes. I decide when you live or die."

The serpentine braided templar takes a breath and nods deeply, in acceptance.

His cheeks flushed, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
    "Right now, you get to live. Don't make me regret that."

The cherubic, ginger-haired templar asks you, in sirihish:
    "Murdering all your fellow blues is not the path to power! Understood?"

Sinking into a bow for the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, you say, in sirihish:
    "Thank you, Great Lord. I understand the gravity of your decision... and yes. I understand."

Throughout all this, the fleshy, rubenesque young woman remains silent, looking down at the floor.

You think:
    "So next time, I dodge getting murdered?"
    "The fuck am I supposed to do?"

Dismissing your with a flick of his wrist, the cherubic, ginger-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
    "Now. Go. You have a unit that needs serious work. The Seventh is already the laughing stock of the entire legion, and having an ex-corporal executed for high treason really isn't going to..."

A Secluded Rock Garden [N, Save]
You are in a private garden surrounded by a high stone wall.
In the center of the garden is a pool of fine grained sands enclosed
by a border of smooth black stones.  Unusual rocks of all shapes and
sizes have been strategically placed in the pool and a series of patterns
and swirls has been drawn in the sands.  Two white stone benches are
situated on either side of the pool.  Small urns filled with different
colored sands have been placed between the benches.
A shadow falls over the area, driving off the uncomfortable heat.
A chalice of carved bone stands here, polished to a shine.
A lit glass-sided red lantern hangs over a white stone bench.
A lit glass-sided red lantern hangs over the threshold.
A delicate chitin tray sits atop a bench here, offering pie and bread.
The fleshy, rubenesque young woman is sitting on a small white stone bench.
A black-haired, rip-scarred man stands on guard here.
The cherubic, ginger-haired templar is standing here.

You say, in sirihish:
    "Yes Great Lord. Thank you."

The serpentine braided templar backs away, facing the cherubic, ginger-haired templar, before bowing and ducking inside.

[Adhira]

--- Not long later ---



Militia Barracks [N, W, Quit, Save]
   This entire building appears to be one large common area for the
soldiers who live here.  Cots and tables alike are mixed here as furniture,
and around the clock both seem to be filled as those who live here go on and
off duty. 
   An open doorway leads out into the street to the north, while the
building opens further to the west. 
Push up against a black locker, a compact baobab desk is set as an endtable to a cot.
Pushed against a wall next to other containers, a bone-sided obsidian-handled chest is filled with plants.
A heavy cylini cabinet looms against one wall, filled with bags, belts, and other containers.
A large, round table made of bone and hide is here in the center of the barracks.
The allanak soldiers board has been propped up here.
A massive, bone-bound armory case is here in the corner of the barracks.
Pushed against a wall next to other containers, a heavy agafari trunk is filled with raw materials.
Pushed against a wall next to other containers, a long baobab crate is filled with tools and equipment.
A broom leans against the wall near the table.
The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf is standing here.
The rugged, goateed man is sitting on a small leather cot.
The stout, raven-haired woman is standing here.
A hairy, green-nailed tattooist is at a table, holding inks and needles.

You say, in sirihish:
     "All of you. Lieutenant's Quarters. Now."

You open the door.

Lieutenant's Quarters [N, E, Quit, Save]
   The furnishings of this apartment style section of the barracks are
quite sparse.  The red stone bricks of the city wall form the southern
wall of this room, setting a backdrop for the simple wooden furniture
which clutters it.
   A sturdy looking door to the north, and a flimsy one to the east
appear to be the only exits.
An elegantly curved, ivory scroll receptacle rests against the wall.
In the corner, a graceful pymlithe music rest displays a cunyati-wood xylophone.
Propped up against the southern wall, a wide-mouthed stone cistern stands here.
A wide-mouthed cistern, carved of stone, rests here.
Before an ivory scroll receptacle, a rectangular sandy-red carpet lies flat.
A plain cylini pedestal is here sitting beside the ivory scroll receptacle.
Next to the other, a small white-boned footlocker sits in the corner.
A crude cross has been etched into the lid of a small white-boned footlocker, which is pushed against the wall near a corner.
A heavy baobab chest is here sits here at the foot of a small leather cot.
A couple of small leather cots are here.
At the southern end is a plain baobab desk, set facing the door to the north.

The rugged, goateed man has arrived from the east, staggering in.
The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf has arrived from the east.
The stout, raven-haired woman has arrived from the east.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf follows the rugged, goateed man offering support.

Pulling her chair out with a slam, you sit at a plain baobab desk.

You say to the rugged, goateed man, in sirihish:
     "Sit. Please."

Nodding and easing into a seat, the rugged, goateed man sits at a plain baobab desk.

You say to the stout, raven-haired woman, in sirihish:
     "Get the door. You're not even supposed to be here, so you just be quiet."

The stout, raven-haired woman closes the door.

The stout, raven-haired woman says, in sirihish:
     "Yes Lady Templar, sorry Lady Templar."

You say, in sirihish:
     "You all saw what just happened."

The rugged, goateed man nods slowly.

The stout, raven-haired woman nods, hanging her head.

You say, in sirihish:
     "You all have two choices. Pick yourselves up, and soldier on, or give up and fade."

Stabbing the desk with her finger, you say, in sirihish:
     "I did not stand idly by and let this happen, but the Highlord's Decision had been made, and we must accept the ex-Corporal as a traitor."

The rugged, goateed man's shoulders slump.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf says, in sirihish:
     "I will go to be a wall soldier."

Pointing to him, you say to the rugged, goateed man, in sirihish:
     "You're in the clear Sergeant. You were not involved. None of it was your fault. It may be a kick to the guts, but at least you still have guts to kick."

Nodding, you say to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf, in sirihish:
     "I thought as much. I am sorry to hear that."

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf says, in sirihish:
     "I am sorry."

You say to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf, in sirihish:
     "I have every respect for you Private. You have been a good soldier."

You say to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf, in sirihish:
     "If that is your choice, I will not seek to stop you. You have earned the right not to be secondguessed."

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf says, in sirihish:
     "I only wish the Corporal would have wished for me to die with him in the arena."

You say to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf, in sirihish:
     "He cares enough for you not to turn this into a body pile of honour. Seize your life, make it anew, and remember him."

Sniffing and wiping a tear from her cheek, the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf shouts, in sirihish:
     "He wishes me to live on alone."

You say to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf, in sirihish:
     "He has children. That is not alone."

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf lowers her head and nods.

The rugged, goateed man says to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf, in sirihish:
     "Ain't no need of a decision here'n now, Private."

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf shouts, in sirihish:
     "Understood Lady Templar."

The stout, raven-haired woman watches the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf glumly.

You say to the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf, in sirihish:
     "Take some time to reflect. We could still use you, very much so."

With a sigh, the blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf says, in sirihish:
     "Understood Lady Templar."

Turning to the stout, raven-haired woman, you say, in sirihish:
     "As for you, I don't know if you are the unluckiest Recruit in history or one of the luckiest."

You ask the stout, raven-haired woman, in sirihish:
     "I suppose the question is, do you have it in you to be part of the future of this Unit? To make something of it, and yourself?"

The stout, raven-haired woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "I ..don't know now, Lady Templar."

You ask the stout, raven-haired woman, in sirihish:
     "Are you scared?"

The stout, raven-haired woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "Scared and confused."

You nod.

Slowly forcing it down, the rugged, goateed man takes a bite of his partially eaten travel cake.

You say to the stout, raven-haired woman, in sirihish:
     "The turmoil of the powerful has collateral. You are witnessing that here."

The rugged, goateed man sips from his waterskin.

The stout, raven-haired woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "It seems like you are loyal with all your heart..and bad stuff still happens."

The serpentine braided templar goes 'heh' at that, regarding the stout, raven-haired woman.

Blurting, the stout, raven-haired woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "Everything started bad now it was good.."

The stout, raven-haired woman just hangs her head after not finding anything else to say.

You say to the stout, raven-haired woman, in sirihish:
     "Of the two Blue, one of us had greed, one of us had pride. You will see different outlooks and strengths and flaws, if you stay with His Arm."
     "You are a strong girl. Smart girl. I want you to stay. Treat this as a lesson or study."

Blandly, the rugged, goateed man takes a bite of his half eaten travel cake.

Head still bowed, the stout, raven-haired woman says, in sirihish:
     "I will Lady Templar."

The rugged, goateed man seems glum and distant.

Sitting back, and looking to each of the three, you say, in sirihish:
     "There will be another Blue assigned to this Unit."

You say to the rugged, goateed man, in sirihish:
     "You still have my support for what we spoke, but I feel it may be delayed now."
     "Your task is clear. Get us Recruits. I do not care how."

The rugged, goateed man nods slowly.

The serpentine braided templar exhales, looking distant as she looks off to the side.

You say, in sirihish:
     "That will be all. I need time to think. Dismissed, all of you."

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf salutes and bows.
The stout, raven-haired woman bows and then salutes.

Rising vacantly, the rugged, goateed man stands up from a plain baobab desk.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf says to the stout, raven-haired woman, in sirihish:
     "I'll get you to the barracks."

The rugged, goateed man manages a salute and a pained bow.
The stout, raven-haired woman salutes the rugged, goateed man.
The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf stops to salutes the rugged, goateed man.

The rugged, goateed man opens the door.

The blocky-headed, blue-eyed dwarf walks east.
The stout, raven-haired woman walks east.

The rugged, goateed man walks east.

You think:
     "If I had it in me to cry, or weep, it would be now. My soldiers broken, my Unit in tatters. All because I acted."

The rugged, goateed man closes the door from the other side.

You think:
     "Every time I do what must be done, because I am the only one who can, I am punished. Every single time."
     "And now Meso, a decent dwarf, dies for trusting me."
     "I do not care for him, but it is a waste."
     "A krath-damned waste."

--- Soon after, in her quarters ---
   
The serpentine braided templar kicks over the basket and smashes her fist into the wall, in some outburst of temper.
You sit at a carven baobab desk.
The serpentine braided templar rolls her head back, taking a deep breath.

[Adhira]

Post now unlock for discussion and commentary!

This log depicts a rather controversial interaction between a Blue and her Red. It's a great example of politics at work.  Staffside, I remember that as this happened we were very on edge, wondering what choices would be made here and how the PCs involved would react. I can only imagine that the PCs involved were similarly on edge.

[Desertman]

Such a good log. Thanks for posting.

So many times in Armageddon the fact you are innocent isn't even a factor. Everyone knew Meso was innocent. Everyone knew without a doubt he was truly honorable. It was so obvious.

Still, he was sacrificed because even a truly innocent dwarf who is a fantastic fighter is easier to sacrifice than a Blue Robe Templar with a potential future ahead of them.

Very good example of caste dynamics and politics in general. Awesome read.

(I also loved and hated Lyvren with a few PC's, and not always the ones you would expect. My Guilder had genuine affection for her at one point before he died. I remember sitting with her and sharing tea with her when her favorite aide was killed and consoling her as best as I could. It is awesome to see her inner thoughts and the way her PC was played from a first person point of view.)

[QuillDipper]

This is a fabulous log. It's very much a treat to see things from a Templar's perspective and be reminded they can have feeeeelings.

[LauraMars]

I love everything about this.

[LauraMars]

I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS.

so much I had to post it twice.

[Marauder Moe]

It was with great dread that I realized which log this was.   

[LauraMars]

I especially love Lyvren's intelligent responses in the face of humiliation and her koan-like thinks. (which I know are a result of log formatting, but I still love them)  no homo

[James de Monet]

Rocksauce

[BadSkeelz]

A couple of these characters loomed very large in the life of my first character. It was very nice to see them again.

[Barsook]

Good read indeed!

[number13]

Awesome stuff, one of the best logs I've read.

[MeTekillot]

One time, Lyvren grabbed my face



It was awesome

[Kaineus]

One time, Lyvren grabbed my face



It was awesome

Hah, I had a character much less important than any of the ones in this log disciplined by Lyvren / the Templarate -- she's a legend and many, many players surely remember the scenes they've participated in with her.

I always wondered what happened to Corporal Meso, great to have an opportunity to see all of this intrigue, thanks for posting this!

[valeria]

[BadSkeelz]

i got called a retard in full caps by lyvren (at least) once. Probably repeatedly.

I was curious to see that she was already missing a finger knuckle, here. I had always thought that had come out of the Meso business.

[Beethoven]

This must have been pretty close to my first character, Saphris', time. I remember Lord Templar Drydek, Meso, Huss, and the very beginning of Lady Templar Lyvren's time as a PC, though I'm not sure if the latter ever overlapped with Saphris or not. Regardless, 'twas a fun time to play in Allanak, with intrigue and fun to be had by all. I enjoyed reading this very much--thank you for the submission!

This is a fabulous log. It's very much a treat to see things from a Templar's perspective and be reminded they can have feeeeelings.

QFT. Not every Highborn has to be a complete, 100% psychopath to be played well. Great job maintaining that balance.

[Titania]

I still wish Meso had asked for something different.

[RogueGunslinger]

Aww. I had a character that was impacted by some of these characters. Mainly Corporal Shrinty and Lyvren. One taught my recruit how to use a unique two-handed style the name of which I forget(scorpion probably ). The other looked deep into my characters soul and seemed to know them better than I did. Great characters both.

I'm happy to see them again.

[senseofeven]

Inteeeeeeeensely good.