The Penultimate Meeting -- Booya

[Nyr]

The last meeting prior to the HRPT.  By way of explanation, the other logs of the spies mostly show them being spies or doing singular meetings, never with any intent to do anything major, so they tend to lack the general excitement of a major event.  This one was a bit more tense seeing as how all of the spies had to be in one spot to learn what they were going to be doing...

You send a telepathic message to the moustached, tan-skinned man:
     "Meet at the gates to the Hlum Estate, on Merchants."

cease
You dissolve the psychic link.

You contact the solid, tanned woman with the Way.

It is dawn on Terrin, the 35th day of the Low Sun,
In the Year of Silt's Peace, year 9 of the 22nd Age.

You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

You suffer from use of the Way.

You send a telepathic message to the solid, tanned woman:
     "Hey! Want to visit the Estate grounds? "

cease
You dissolve the psychic link.

You contact the solid, brown-haired man with the Way.

A foreign presence contacts your mind.

You suffer from use of the Way.

You suffer from use of the Way.

The solid, tanned woman sends you a telepathic message:
     "Definitely!"

You send a telepathic message to the solid, brown-haired man:
     "I'll think of something to say if he's on the balcony."

**********Meaning Rider, as you could see activity from up there************

w
The lithe, scarlet haired soldier stops using her chunky, tusk-fobbed ivory key.
The lithe, scarlet haired soldier unlocks the gates with a chunky, tusk-fobbed ivory key.
The lithe, scarlet haired soldier opens the gates.
The lithe, scarlet haired soldier steps aside, allowing you to pass.
The Road of Merchants [NES]
   Squat, mud-brick structures adorn either side of this dust-covered
street, rising up from the ground at varying intervals.  Wide ranging colors
can be seen splashed across the vast majority of them, most appearing as
brightly painted murals or colorfully woven carpets and tarps.  The road
itself is comprised of a sullen, yellow sandstone that has been chiseled
into neatly rounded blocks before being cobbled into the ground. 
   To the west lies a broad and leveled clearing, much of it cluttered
with piles of wood, stone, and other raw materials.  A thick wall composed
of agafari beams rises to the east, with a gate of similar construction set
into it.  Beyond the gate sounds of construction continue. 
A rotund, coal-eyed man leans casually on the haft of a gigantic axe.
The wiry, flaxen-haired soldier guards the eastern gate.
The solid, brown-haired man has arrived from the east.
The lithe, scarlet haired soldier closes the gates from the other side.

l s
To the south is the Road of Merchants.
[Far]
A human commoner, covered in purple tattoos, stands here.
Blistered scars evident, a child squats on a street corner whimpering.
[Near]
The bald, baobab-skinned man trundles down the road.

l n
North of here is the Road of Merchants.
[Very far]
Nothing.
[Far]
A young, sallow-skinned girl scampers across the street, giggling.
[Near]
The bearded, shadowy-eyed Jihaen templar is standing here.

The moustached, tan-skinned man has arrived from the south, boots tapping along.

You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

Walking up, his sunburst-crested baobab helm under one arm, the moustached, tan-skinned man

tilts you and the solid, brown-haired man a pair of nods.

The moustached, tan-skinned man falls in behind you.

The solid, brown-haired man looks at the moustached, tan-skinned man.

The solid, brown-haired man nods to the moustached, tan-skinned man.

Starting to step off but pausing, you say to the moustached, tan-skinned man, in sirihish:
     "Private Rill! How good to see you."

With a little smile as she settles back, you look at the moustached, tan-skinned man.
This man is of just below average height for a human, his form that of
corded muscle and little fat.  His skin is certainly Krath-worn, but is a
rather even tan, with the faintest hint of olive.  His hair is dark black
and falls with a mix of wave and curl, giving it a naturally unkempt
appearance.  The hair on his head is let to fall long on either side, and
the top layer is pulled back into a sort of top-knotted ponytail.  His face
sports a thin moustache of moderate length, and a skinny bit of hair beneath
his lip.  His eyebrows are thin, and sit above plain, brown eyes.  His face
has a slightly skeletal appearance, and his nose is slightly hawk-like. 
The moustached, tan-skinned man is in excellent condition.

The moustached, tan-skinned man is using:
<around neck>            a sunburst-crested wooden collar
<slung across back>      a sun-pommelled, bone-bladed shortsword< /div>
<across back>            a rough canvas backpack
<on torso>               a sunburst-emblazoned woodsplint vest
<left shoulder>          a red and white circle
<on arms>                a pair of sunburst-branded woodsplint sleeves
<around right wrist>     a studded tembo-hide bracer
<around left wrist>      a studded tembo-hide bracer
<hands>                  a tattoo of a six-pronged star
<as belt>                a sunburst-buckled, hardened leather sword belt
<hung from belt>         a durable leather healer's belt-pouch
<hung from belt>         a sun-pommelled, bone-bladed shortsword
<around body>            a long, hooded red and white tabard
<on legs>                a pair of sunburst-branded woodsplint leggings
<on feet>                a pair of knee-high black leather riding boots

He is carrying:
nothing obvious

Twisting his moustache with his free hand, the moustached, tan-skinned man asks you, in

sirihish:
     "Likewise, Chosen Lady.  Things are Harmonous, I hope?"

The moustached, tan-skinned man looks at you.

You ask the moustached, tan-skinned man, in sirihish:
     "Always, thankyou. And yourself?"

As he begins to speak, the moustached, tan-skinned man looks at the solid, brown-haired man.

You suffer from use of the Way.

sco
You suffer from use of the Way.
You are Alize, of many people. (type 'tribes' to see your tribes).
Keywords: lithe henna-haired woman
Sdesc: the lithe, henna-haired woman
Objective:
Long Description:
Code Generated Long Description.
You are 23 years, 2 months, and 142 days old,
which by your race and appearance is adult.
You are 70 inches tall, and weigh 8 ten-stone.
Your strength is very good, your agility is extremely good,
  your wisdom is extremely good, and your endurance is extremely good.
You are satisfied and not thirsty.
Your health is 116(116), you have 110(119) stamina, and 84(103) stun.

You have been playing for 34 days and 6 hours.
You are standing.
You are currently speaking sirihish with a northern accent.

stat
Your encumbrance is very light.
You are:
< div>Apprentice of the Bards of Poets' Circle, jobs:
The Hlum of the Servants of Gol Krathu, jobs: recruiter | leader | banker |
Relationship to the land is neutral.
You are currently speaking sirihish with a northern accent.
Your mood is neutral.
You are standing.
Your mind is in contact with the solid, brown-haired man.
You are refusing saves on: arrest.
You are merciful on: kill | flee | .
You are watching someone who is not here.

Plainly, the moustached, tan-skinned man says to you, in sirihish:
     "Harmonous.  As they should be.  Busy, though, which is good."

contact ella
You suffer from use of the Way.
You contact the solid, tanned woman with the Way.

You send a telepathic message to the solid, tanned woman:
     "Meet at the Estate gates?"

You send a telepathic message to the solid, tanned woman:
     "They're off Merchant's."

The sun begins its long voyage across the heavens.

A foreign presence contacts your mind.

The solid, tanned woman sends you a telepathic message:
     "Sure.  I'll be there in a little bit."

You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

The solid, brown-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
     "Casual game of some sort, or just catching up?"

Adding plainly, the moustached, tan-skinned man says, in sirihish:
     "And good weather today.  Hm."

The solid, brown-haired man readjusts his pair of white, tembo-hide gloves, pulling them up a
little bit on his hands.

The moustached, tan-skinned man falls in behind you.

You say to the moustached, tan-skinned man, in sirihish:
     "Good to hear. And it is, yes."

cease
You dissolve the psychic link.

You contact the solid, brown-haired man with the Way.

You send a telepathic message to the solid, brown-haired man:
     "Just waiting for Ella."

The solid, brown-haired man says to the moustached, tan-skinned man, in sirihish:
     "It's safe to say that I haven't seen much better than this."
The solid, brown-haired man sends you a telepathic message:
     "Good."

The solid, tanned woman has arrived from the north.

Smirking a bit, the moustached, tan-skinned man says to the solid, tanned woman, in sirihish:
     "Ah.  Mm."

Tilting a nod, the moustached, tan-skinned man looks at the solid, tanned woman.

With a warm smile over, you exclaim to the solid, tanned woman, in sirihish:
     "Hey! You should see the grounds while you're here, see where we're having the Hlum

Ball!"

You sense a foreign presence withdraw from your mind.

Smiling and nodding politely, the solid, tanned woman says, in sirihish:
     "Oh!  Pleasant morning, Chosen Lord, Chosen Consort."

The solid, tanned woman looks at the moustached, tan-skinned man.

You say to the moustached, tan-skinned man, in sirihish:
     "Maybe you could look around too? I know you'll love it."

The moustached, tan-skinned man looks around at passing people with a squint.

The solid, tanned woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "Ah, Chosen Consort, that is.  Sorry, you two always seem to be about together."

The solid, brown-haired man looks at the solid, tanned woman.

The moustached, tan-skinned man sighs and chuckles, gaze shifting back.

You say, in sirihish:
     "I know...let me show you."

Plainly, the moustached, tan-skinned man says to you, in sirihish:
     "Aye, I would like to."

The solid, tanned woman falls in behind you.

The wiry, flaxen-haired soldier stops using his chunky, tusk-fobbed ivory key.
The wiry, flaxen-haired soldier unlocks the gates with a chunky, tusk-fobbed ivory key.
The wiry, flaxen-haired soldier opens the gates.
The wiry, flaxen-haired soldier steps aside, allowing you to pass.
A Pleasant Courtyard [NSW]
   A thick wall composed of agafari beams rises to the west, with a gate
of similar construction set into it.  To the east is another wall, at first
glance also composed of agafari beams; a closer inspection reveals it to be
a mudbrick wall painted to trick the eye.  Pebbled walkways lead north and
south through gardens.  Ten cords overhead, supported by massive columns, is
the building itself.  This area and the surrounding gardens are left open to
the air, but shaded by the building to provide a pleasantly cool
environment. 
   Thick wooden pillars rise out of the ground itself, soaring upward to
support the building above while still remitting light to the garden.  In
this part of the garden, the pillars have been etched with scenes of city
commerce: caravans, shops, and haggling merchants and customers. 
The lithe, scarlet haired soldier guards the western gate.
The solid, tanned woman has arrived from the west.
The moustached, tan-skinned man has arrived from the west.
The solid, brown-haired man has arrived from the west.
The wiry, flaxen-haired soldier closes the gates from the other side.

s
A Sandy Rock Garden [NE]
   The pebbled paths in this area of the garden wind between patches of
sand with rocky outcroppings that strangely resemble a model of the cliffs
and barren wastes to the southwest.  The cliff-like rock sculptures are the
focus of this area, and the accompanying plantlife is sparse.  Some of the
plants blend neatly with the sand, like the sickly-yellow growth of haspeth
or the tuberish pickleberry plant.  A growth of sandspider, on the other
hand, is clearly visible, but looks so like an arachnid that it often keeps
the wary at bay. 
   Thick wooden pillars rise out of the ground itself, soaring upward to
support the building above while still remitting light to the garden.  In
this part of the garden, the pillars have been etched with the common
animals of the southwestern cliffs and canyons, from the plodding gurth to
the agile kalich and turaal. 
A red-brown, spidery plant sits half buried in the sand.
A bulbous, grey-green plant huddles in the shelter of rocks.
A bulbous yellow growth is here.
A long, brown-green plant sprouts from the earth.
The solid, tanned woman has arrived from the north.
The moustached, tan-skinned man has arrived from the north.
The solid, brown-haired man has arrived from the north.

e
The Base of a Spiral Stairway [NEWU]
   The base of a graceful spiral staircase begins here, corkscrewing up
through the center of the building.  The stairs are marble, and the frame is
built of sturdy wood and gleaming onyx.  A fledgling belshun vine has been
trained to creep up the railing, which is smoothly polished ivory coiling
upward.  Along the inner walls, lanterns have been set in niches, providing
light to the windowless stairwell.  A stone wall stretches to the north, the
outlines of a door barely seen set within it.  To the east and west, the
garden path continues. 
   Thick wooden pillars rise out of the ground itself, soaring upward to
support the building above while still remitting light to the garden.  In
this part of the garden, the pillars have been etched with scenes of
fearsome mutant humanoids fighting in some battle. 
A belshun vine with gangly branches grows here.
The solid, tanned woman has arrived from the west.
The moustached, tan-skinned man has arrived from the west.
The solid, brown-haired man has arrived from the west.

l u
Up from here is a Landing on the Second Floor.
[Very far]
Nothing.
[Far]
Nothing.
[Near]
Nothing.

e
A Scrubby Shrubbery [NW]
   This section of the garden features plants native to the scrublands,
mostly low-growing bushes.  The most formidable of these is a dark tangle of
thornbush with wickedly sharp barbs that serve as a deterrent to those
wishing to harvest its aromatic fruit.  Nearby are a few unassuming little
precos bushes with verdant leaves and tiny flowers, an almost complete
contrast to the menace of the thornbush.  Sprawling webs of fenrel and numut
along with darker, blue-flowered plants complete the beds around the pebbled
walkways. 
   Thick wooden pillars rise out of the ground itself, soaring upward to
support the building above while still remitting light to the garden.  In
this part of the garden, the pillars have been etched with the common
animals of the scrublands, gurth and greth, herds of grazers, and packs of
menacing gortok. 
A round little bush squats here.
A low-growing plant creeps along in the shadows of the rocks.
A squat, spear-leafed fenrel bush grows in the dust.
The solid, tanned woman has arrived from the west.
The moustached, tan-skinned man has arrived from the west.
The solid, brown-haired man has arrived from the west.

l n

The solid, tanned woman smiles and nods to the moustached, tan-skinned man.

116/116;110/119;83/103;walkingTo the north is a Statuary Garden.
[Far]
Nothing.
[Near]
Nothing.

n
A Statuary Garden [NS]
   This area of the garden is only sparsely planted, with clumps of
Lady's Mantle to show off the real focus here: the statuary.  The statues
depict various wildlife of the northlands, both real and fabled, in various
sizes and media. 
   Thick wooden pillars rise out of the ground itself, soaring upward to
support the building above while still remitting light to the garden.  In
this part of the garden, the pillars have been etched with depictions of
hunters engaged in various tasks: riding, tracking, killing their prey, and
skinning animals. 
Beak gaping, a statue of a running erdlu stands frozen here.
A statue of a strutting vestric is here caught in mid-stride.
Nearby, a marble tembo leaps for its prey.
The solid, tanned woman has arrived from the south.
The moustached, tan-skinned man has arrived from the south.
The solid, brown-haired man has arrived from the south.

l n
The moustached, tan-skinned man walks along, his long, hooded red and white tabard swishing

with his movements.

To the north is a Grassy, Aromatic Garden.
[Near]
Nothing.

l s
South of here is a Scrubby Shrubbery.
[Near]
Nothing.

The solid, brown-haired man keeps close to you, walking slowly among the statues.

The moustached, tan-skinned man's gaze drifts about the statues, narrowed a tad.

Quietly as she gestures to a marble tembo, you say, in sirihish:
     "So much art."

The moustached, tan-skinned man lets out a slow 'mhm,' gaze still shifting between the
statues.

Nodding slowly as she looks around, the solid, tanned woman says, in sirihish:
     "These are wonderful gardens."

The lithe, henna-haired woman looks to the solid, brown-haired man questioningly as she stops,
then takes a careful look about.

A Statuary Garden [NS]
   This area of the garden is only sparsely planted, with clumps of
Lady's Mantle to show off the real focus here: the statuary.  The statues
depict various wildlife of the northlands, both real and fabled, in various
sizes and media. 
   Thick wooden pillars rise out of the ground itself, soaring upward to
support the building above while still remitting light to the garden.  In
this part of the garden, the pillars have been etched with depictions of
hunters engaged in various tasks: riding, tracking, killing their prey, and
skinning animals. 
Beak gaping, a statue of a running erdlu stands frozen here.
A statue of a strutting vestric is here caught in mid-stride.
Nearby, a marble tembo leaps for its prey.
The solid, brown-haired man stands watchfully here.
The moustached, tan-skinned man is standing here.
The solid, tanned woman is standing here.

You intently scan the area.

l s
South of here is a Scrubby Shrubbery.
[Near]
Nothing.

l n
To the north is a Grassy, Aromatic Garden.
[Near]
Nothing.

Adding plainly, the moustached, tan-skinned man says, in sirihish:
     "Beautiful, in fact."

Voice also quiet as he keeps one hand perched on the hilt of his ivory-hilted, bone
broadsword, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "You've all done well."

listen
You start trying to listen.

The moustached, tan-skinned man eyes the solid, brown-haired man and seems to take up a
different sort of stature, puffing his chest out and resting a hand atop his sun-pommelled,
bone-bladed shortsword.

Nodding a little, the solid, tanned woman looks at the solid, brown-haired man.

The lithe, henna-haired woman's kohled gaze shifts to the solid, brown-haired man and her
expression is still and alert.

As he moves forward to point lightly at his white, tembo-hide gorget with his other hand, the
solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "A soldier, a bard, a consort.  Worthy of song, even in the benighted lands of the
South."

[Nyr]

The moustached, tan-skinned man chuckles deeply and darkly, moustache quivering.

The lithe, henna-haired woman's lips twitch in a smile though she stays attentive.

You suffer from use of the Way.

You notice: The moustached, tan-skinned man's gaze shifts northward again, then southward,
then back to the solid, brown-haired man.

The solid, tanned woman crosses her arms, impassively listening to the solid, brown-haired
man.

Tracing a gloved fingertip along the fangs of a marble tembo, the solid, brown-haired man
asks, in sirihish:
     "The choice of the carru was not made lightly.  Ella, what does the carru do?"

The moustached, tan-skinned man's gaze shifts to his studded tembo-hide bracer, lingering a
moment before shifting to the solid, tanned woman.

The moustached, tan-skinned man's gaze shifted to a marble tembo.

Lifting her chin a bit, the solid, tanned woman says to the solid, brown-haired man, in
sirihish:
     "It knocks people over."

You suffer from use of the Way.

Softly, the solid, brown-haired man asks, in sirihish:
     "Where?"

Adding, as if as an afterthought, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "...typically, at least."

The solid, tanned woman asks the solid, brown-haired man, in sirihish:
     "In the scrub?"

A small smile tugging at his cheeks, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Close, though one is often IN the scrub after they run into a carru.  The North Road."

You suffer from use of the Way.

The solid, tanned woman nods slowly.

The moustached, tan-skinned man bobs his head and frowns pleasently, drumming his fingers atop
his sun-pommelled, bone-bladed shortsword's hilt.

Softly, as he takes his hand away from a marble tembo, the solid, brown-haired man says, in
sirihish:
     "Symbolic.  The carru surprises the unwary traveler upon the North Road."

Your new ldesc is:
The lithe, henna-haired woman is here amongst the statues.

Smirking a little as he glances to the northern garden, the solid, brown-haired man says, in
sirihish:
     "And we rest within that traveler.  I guess that is where the metaphor starts getting
weird."

Plainly, the moustached, tan-skinned man asks, in sirihish:
     "Perhaps not -- It sums the peril up nicely, for the Carru, eh?"

Bobbing his head to the moustached, tan-skinned man, the solid, brown-haired man says, in
sirihish:
     "Quite right, Private."

Scratching at the back of his neck with his free hand, the other still resting on his ivory-

hilted, bone broadsword, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "There will be a courier."

The solid, brown-haired man asks, in sirihish:
     "You have a place that a drop can be made if need be, I take it, Private?"

Adding, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Two would be better."

With a nod, the moustached, tan-skinned man says to the solid, brown-haired man, in sirihish:
     "Cylini and Japuaar -- working with the bricks behind a bench to make a comfortable
spot."

Nodding idly, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "And each of you have an apartment?  The consort excepted; these grounds are more than
adequate."

The moustached, tan-skinned man offers a single stern nod.

The solid, tanned woman nods simply.

You suffer from use of the Way.

The lithe, henna-haired woman smiles a touch as she dips her head in acknowledgment.

Clearing his throat, speaking softly, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Good.  A place to stow away things in your apartment--or here--will be needed, too."

The solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Only one of you will need access to the Tree."

Furtively shooting a glance to the north, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Likely safest for the Consort, which we were not expecting in the first place."

You suffer from use of the Way.

With a single nod, peering to the solid, tanned woman and you, the moustached, tan-skinned man
asks, in sirihish:
     "This place to keep things -- more out of sight than a chest, you mean?"

You suffer from use of the Way.

The lithe, henna-haired woman glances northwards through the gardens, watchful and attentive
on the group.

l n
To the north is a Grassy, Aromatic Garden.
[Near]
Nothing.

l s
To the south is a Scrubby Shrubbery.
[Near]
Nothing.

Softly, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "If feasible?  Yes.  If not, then misdirection and hiding something among plain sight
will be...fine."

The moustached, tan-skinned man nods once to the solid, brown-haired man.

The solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "I cannot reveal too much without endangering you or the mission at this point.  More
will come clear after the courier arrives.  They are choosing a candidate."

The solid, tanned woman nods shallowly a few times.

Softly, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Suffice it to say that you will be in harm's way."

You notice: The solid, brown-haired man gaze drifts briefly to you, then the moustached, tan-
skinned man, then the solid, tanned woman.

After a momentary pause, gaze lingering now back on the moustached, tan-skinned man, the
solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "You more than the rest."

The lithe, henna-haired woman drops a nod to the solid, brown-haired man.

With a single nod, the moustached, tan-skinned man says to the solid, brown-haired man, in
sirihish:
     "Good and understood."

You suffer from use of the Way.

Relaxing slightly, elbow leaning against a statue of a strutting vestric, the solid, brown-

haired man says, in sirihish:
     "With that said...this is nothing small.  We haven't done this for a bit of vandalism, if
that's in your mind."

The moustached, tan-skinned man bobs his head slowly, brow wrinkled pensively.

Simply, his voice taking on a steely tone of some amount of distant awe, the solid, brown-
haired man says, in sirihish:
     "It is nothing short of resetting the balance of power in the Known.  And you are the
ones to do it."

Adding, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Or at least be instruments thereof."

The solid, tanned woman dips her head faintly.

Simply, the word curt, the moustached, tan-skinned man says, in sirihish:
     "Praise."

The solid, brown-haired man glances back to the north again, then looks a statue of a running

erdlu full in the beaked face.

Softly, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "No pressure."

With a little smile, you say, in sirihish:
     "I live to serve."

You suffer from use of the Way.

Smiling back to you, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Yes, we all serve Him in our own ways."

[Nyr]

The lithe, henna-haired woman inclines her head to the solid, brown-haired man graciously, her
smile lingering.

   "Before we adjourn, two things.  Extraction is possible but dangerous.  Unassisted
extraction is possible, but dangerous."

The solid, tanned woman keeps her arms crossed, still listening attentively, though.

The moustached, tan-skinned man quietly looks to the solid, tanned woman and you, bobbing his
head the entire time until his gaze returns to the solid, brown-haired man.

The solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "...however, past a certain point, hazard pay and compensation beyond your wildest
imaginings awaits."

You ask, in sirihish:
     "Extraction?"

Eyes shifting to you, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Afterwards.  Can't have folk prying into things.  Into...this."

It is early afternoon on Terrin, the 35th day of the Low Sun,
In the Year of Silt's Peace, year 9 of the 22nd Age.

Stoically, the moustached, tan-skinned man asks the solid, brown-haired man, in sirihish:
     "I imagine such a process will be more clear as the time approaches?"

You suffer from use of the Way.

You suffer from use of the Way.

Lightly, almost airily, as he pokes at a statue of a running erdlu with a gloved fingertip,
the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Yes.  You know what they can do to you if you know more."

The moustached, tan-skinned man clears his throat and bobs his head once.

Adding, probing a statue of a running erdlu's mouth, the solid, brown-haired man says, in
sirihish:
     "And are caught, or what-not."

Licking his lips, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Questions?  We begin to attract attention if we stay longer."

Simply, the moustached, tan-skinned man asks the solid, brown-haired man, in sirihish:
     "How long until the courier arrives?"

Wrinkling his nose, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Within the next month, perhaps two months from now."

The lithe, henna-haired woman nods slowly, looking thoughtful but with a calm resolve.

barrier
You suffer from use of the Way.
You dissolve the psychic link.
You build a psychic barrier around your mind.

With a nod, the moustached, tan-skinned man says, in sirihish:
     "It'll be ready.  'at's all."

Bobbing his head, the solid, brown-haired man asks, in sirihish:
     "Consort?  Bard?"

Nodding a little, the solid, tanned woman says, in sirihish:
     "Hmm, months.  Very well."

Feeling a forceful burying of sadness about Rider, you think:
     "This is what I'm here for. it was always going to happen. he doesn't have this part of
me."

You say, in sirihish:
     "None for me. It's fine and feasible to keep things here."

Nodding to you, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Then I suggest we resume our usual activities for now, Chosen Consort."

You ask, in sirihish:
     "Oh, and you asked about Ella becoming a partisan...but is that still the best course do
you think?"

You suffer from use of the Way.

Glancing to the solid, tanned woman, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "It could be useful."

The solid, tanned woman says to the solid, brown-haired man, in sirihish:
     "Useful, perhaps, but it seems unlikely.  My partisan term is five years, three of which
remain.  I doubt I could be released easily."

You suffer from use of the Way.

Nodding idly, the solid, brown-haired man says to the solid, tanned woman, in sirihish:
     "Then your position may lend itself to have us make additional plans."

You say, in sirihish:
     "Ella and me will still be working on lots of bards things i've started planning."

Nodding, the solid, tanned woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "Of course.  I can still accept commissions."

You suffer from use of the Way.

The moustached, tan-skinned man's gaze drifts about the garden.

The moustached, tan-skinned man places his sunburst-crested baobab helm on his head, securing
it with a swift tug.

Tapping his temples, the solid, brown-haired man says, in sirihish:
     "Mmm.  And so it begins.  If you're about later in the week, Private, I'd keep an eye on
things.  Or an ear."

It is late afternoon on Terrin, the 35th day of the Low Sun,
In the Year of Silt's Peace, year 9 of the 22nd Age.

With a nod, the moustached, tan-skinned man asks the solid, brown-haired man, in sirihish:
     "Couldn't be more specific, could you?"

Simply, the solid, brown-haired man says to the moustached, tan-skinned man, in sirihish:
     "You'll hear about something away South, more than likely.  Unless things go well.  Or
badly."

With a nod, the moustached, tan-skinned man says, in sirihish:
     "My ears are always open."

As an afterthought, the solid, brown-haired man says to the solid, tanned woman, in sirihish:
     "Actually, any of you might, but I know the Chosen Consort typically takes her rest later
in the week."

You suffer from use of the Way.

The solid, tanned woman nods, sparing a glance out into the garden.

You suffer from use of the Way.

With a little nod as she starts to head off through the gardens, affecting more of an air of
relaxed, graceful casualness, you say, in sirihish:
     "I can hear from one of you, if it's important for me to know."

You say, in sirihish:
     "So, this part we're going to will be good for the Ball, too."

n
A Grassy, Aromatic Garden [SW]
   A bed of deep pink flowers forms the centerpiece of this section of
the gardens, the blooms standing out in stark contrast to the blue-green of
their leaves.  A heady aroma of clove spice wafts from the flowerbed,
lingering over the pebble walkways.  Nearby, clumps of pech and tambura
grasses are reminiscent of the eastern grasslands, spears of golden brown
and seed-laden stalks of russet weaving together in an undulating carpet. 
   Thick wooden pillars rise out of the ground itself, soaring upward to
support the building above while still remitting light to the garden.  In
this part of the garden, the pillars have been etched with the common
animals of the eastern plains, from the great bahamet to the humble ritikki.
Clove-scented pink flowers grow in profusion here.
A tall plant, smelling of citron, grows here.
A silver-leaved lavender plant grows here.
A drift of rust-colored grass hugs the ground here.
A clump of brownish green grass rattles in the wind.
The solid, tanned woman has arrived from the south.
The moustached, tan-skinned man has arrived from the south.
The solid, brown-haired man has arrived from the south.

The solid, brown-haired man nods, resuming his post beside you.

Plainly, bobbing his head, the moustached, tan-skinned man says, in sirihish:
     "Beautiful garden.  Very beautiful."

Smiling as she looks around, brushing her hands through a tall plant, you say, in sirihish:
     "It really is. I'm incredibly lucky."

w
A Brightly-Tiled Plaza [EW]
   This entire area is paved with tiles and flat stones, forming a broad
plaza.  The center of the plaza, which could double as a stage for small
performances, is paved in alabaster stones set into a triangular design
clearly resembling the Ivory Pyramid.  Outside of this pure white triangle
is a mosaic of stones and tiles, an abstract patchwork of numerous muted
colors and varying sizes.  Benches have been placed in a circle around the
edge of the plaza, forming places for quiet conversation or observation. 
   Thick wooden pillars rise out of the ground itself, soaring upward to
support the building above while still remitting light to the garden.  In
this part of the garden, the pillars have been carved in scenes reflecting
the city's rich culture, with musicians, artists, and groups of dancers. 
The solid, tanned woman has arrived from the east.
The moustached, tan-skinned man has arrived from the east.
The solid, brown-haired man has arrived from the east.

You say to the moustached, tan-skinned man, in sirihish:
     "Maybe you can cast your discerning eye on the preparations for the Festival too, and
security."

w
A Primeval Woodland Garden [ES]
   The overhang above simulates the shade of the tree canopy in the deep
forest.  Rare, colorful plants sprawl between the pebbled paths here with
their exotic colors.  A bhluang vine sprawls over much of the area, its
rope-like tendrils laid out between other plants like snares set for the
unwary.  Between these ropes are clusters of other plants, like the felaz
plants with their huge purple blossoms, or the thumbberry plants with their
vivid green leaves and tiny white flowers.  The sweet scent of hytenni fills
the air, the speckled plants so small they're nearly invisible around the
larger flora. 
   Thick wooden pillars rise out of the ground itself, soaring upward to
support the building above while still remitting light to the garden.  In
this part of the garden, the pillars have been carved to resemble the trunks
of trees rising up from the forest floor. 
A clustering of dark green leaves grows in the lee of a tree.
A grey-thorned vine tangles through the undergrowth.
A drift of purple-leafed plants grows here.
A tiny plant with white-speckled leaves is here, nestled in a stone niche.
The solid, tanned woman has arrived from the east.
The moustached, tan-skinned man has arrived from the east.
The solid, brown-haired man has arrived from the east.

With a nod, the moustached, tan-skinned man says to you, in sirihish:
     "Mm, I imagine so."

You say, in sirihish:
     "This is my favourite part."

Cheerfully, the solid, tanned woman exclaims to you, in sirihish:
     "I cannot wait.  It should be quite an event!"

You ask the solid, tanned woman, in sirihish:
     "I know! Did you find the secret rotten-tasting fruit in your basket?"

The lithe, henna-haired woman gestures to a tangled, grey-thorned vine with a little grin.

Blinking, the solid, tanned woman asks you, in sirihish:
     "How did you know?  Is it normally supposed to taste like that?"

The solid, tanned woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "I ate it just this morning."

Grinning as she wanders through, you say, in sirihish:
     "It's Bhluang. Chosen Lord Rider went to the ends of the Known to get his for the Hunt,
then when he brought it back and we tasted it...blergh! "

examine vine
   This vine is comprised of thumb-length, greyish thorns, wickedly
sharp, a ropey brown stem, and enormous dull green leaves, under a few of
which grey-skinned fruit dangle in varying states of ripeness. 
   There are three suitable fruits for picking on a tangled, grey-thorned
vine. 

You ask the moustached, tan-skinned man, in sirihish:
     "Have you had one?"

Plainly, the moustached, tan-skinned man says, in sirihish:
     "Bhluang... No, can't say I have."

pick fruit vine
With a quick tug, you pick a pulpy red fruit from a tangled, grey-thorned vine.

You suffer from use of the Way.

The last spire fades to darkness as Suk-Krath abandons the city to night.

You suffer from use of the Way.

Plucking it off, you give your pulpy red fruit to the moustached, tan-skinned man, and she
bobs her brows.

Eyeing it carefully, the moustached, tan-skinned man holds his pulpy red fruit.

Rolling it over in his hands, the moustached, tan-skinned man stops using his pulpy red fruit.

Shrugging mirthfully, you say, in sirihish:
     "I used to be Elkinhym. How could I not give bards at least one rotten fruit, even if it

was just the taste not the flesh."

The lithe, henna-haired woman shoots a quick grin to the solid, tanned woman.

The solid, tanned woman says to the moustached, tan-skinned man, in sirihish:
     "It is not -completely- awful, but I can't imagine anyone calling it a favorite."

It is dusk on Terrin, the 35th day of the Low Sun,
In the Year of Silt's Peace, year 9 of the 22nd Age.

The moustached, tan-skinned man sniffs his pulpy red fruit a bit as he raises it to his mouth.

The moustached, tan-skinned man takes a bite of his pulpy red fruit.

You say, in sirihish:
     "No. It's just that balance of being exotic but horrid."

The moustached, tan-skinned man coughs a bit, chewing with a tensed neck.

Laughing, the solid, tanned woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "Well put."

With another cough, the moustached, tan-skinned man says, in sirihish:
     "Pungent."

The lithe, henna-haired woman lets out an amiable laugh as she watches the moustached, tan-
skinned man's reaction and she nods.

s
A Pleasant Courtyard [NSW]
   A thick wall composed of agafari beams rises to the west, with a gate
of similar construction set into it.  To the east is another wall, at first
glance also composed of agafari beams; a closer inspection reveals it to be
a mudbrick wall painted to trick the eye.  Pebbled walkways lead north and
south through gardens.  Ten cords overhead, supported by massive columns, is
the building itself.  This area and the surrounding gardens are left open to
the air, but shaded by the building to provide a pleasantly cool
environment. 
   Thick wooden pillars rise out of the ground itself, soaring upward to
support the building above while still remitting light to the garden.  In
this part of the garden, the pillars have been etched with scenes of city
commerce: caravans, shops, and haggling merchants and customers. 
The lithe, scarlet haired soldier guards the western gate.
The solid, tanned woman has arrived from the north.
The moustached, tan-skinned man has arrived from the north.
The solid, brown-haired man has arrived from the north.

The moustached, tan-skinned man walks along, tossing his half eaten pulpy red fruit in one
hand.

You suffer from use of the Way.

You suffer from use of the Way.

The lithe, henna-haired woman glances up at the building and the balcony above, and smiles
before bobbing a nod to the lithe, scarlet haired soldier.

w
The lithe, scarlet haired soldier stops using her chunky, tusk-fobbed ivory key.
The lithe, scarlet haired soldier unlocks the gates with a chunky, tusk-fobbed ivory key.
The lithe, scarlet haired soldier opens the gates.
The lithe, scarlet haired soldier steps aside, allowing you to pass.
The Road of Merchants [NES]
   Squat, mud-brick structures adorn either side of this dust-covered
street, rising up from the ground at varying intervals.  Wide ranging colors
can be seen splashed across the vast majority of them, most appearing as
brightly painted murals or colorfully woven carpets and tarps.  The road
itself is comprised of a sullen, yellow sandstone that has been chiseled
into neatly rounded blocks before being cobbled into the ground. 
   To the west lies a broad and leveled clearing, much of it cluttered
with piles of wood, stone, and other raw materials.  A thick wall composed
of agafari beams rises to the east, with a gate of similar construction set
into it.  Beyond the gate sounds of construction continue. 
The wiry, flaxen-haired soldier guards the eastern gate.
A rotund, coal-eyed man leans casually on the haft of a gigantic axe.
The solid, tanned woman has arrived from the east.
The moustached, tan-skinned man has arrived from the east.
The solid, brown-haired man has arrived from the east.
The lithe, scarlet haired soldier closes the gates from the other side.

As he steps out, still eyeing his half eaten pulpy red fruit, the moustached, tan-skinned man
says, in sirihish:
     "Thank you for the company Chosen, and Ella."

The moustached, tan-skinned man tilts the solid, brown-haired man a single nod after he
speaks.

You say, in sirihish:
     "It's been wonderful to see you both. Hope to see you soon! His Radiance"

Waving, the solid, tanned woman exclaims to the moustached, tan-skinned man, in sirihish:
     "His Light!"

cease
You let down your psionic barrier.

Stepping back then turning south, the moustached, tan-skinned man says, in sirihish:
     "Radiance."

unhitch ella
You stop leading the solid, tanned woman.

Boots tapping along, the moustached, tan-skinned man walks south.

Smiling, the solid, tanned woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "And I'm so glad you let me see all that, and we got a little chance to catch up some."

You say to the solid, tanned woman, in sirihish:
     "Me too. We should do it more."

Nodding, the solid, tanned woman says to you, in sirihish:
     "We should.  Until then, His Radiance, Chosen Consort."

You exclaim to the solid, tanned woman, in sirihish:
     "Find me when you can, Ella, until then!  His Radiance!"

The solid, tanned woman waves to you before heading off down the road.

The lithe, henna-haired woman smiles amiacably to the solid, tanned woman before turning.

[MeTekillot]

Nice stat roll.

[Aruven]

Nice stat roll.

lol