It's spring 1235* in Andorra, when, a late afternoon, the guards spot a lone man approaching the covenant.
As he reaches the gates, and the guards get a closer look, he appears as a young, dirty man, almost a boy, of arabic descent. Clad in various clothes and makeshift armor, dirtied by battle and dust, he wears a cimitar in its scabbard, although his hand doesn't comes near it, and looks about as tired as his clothes.
Once he makes it near enough to be heard, he clears his troath, and adresses the guards in arabic, his voice rasped and dry. Presuming they don't understand him, I used a ramdom text generator
New had happen unable uneasy Alexandria. Drawings can followed improved out sociable not. Earnestly so do instantly pretended. See general few civilly amiable pleased account carried Djinni. Excellence projecting is devonshire dispatched remarkably on estimating. Side in so life past. Continue indulged speaking the was out horrible for domestic position. Seeing rather her you not esteem men settle genius excuse. Deal say over you age from. Comparison new ham melancholy son themselves Sahir Raw Bert of Flamebo. CoughCough
He breathes a little, and speaks again, wearily
Literature admiration frequently indulgence announcing are who you her. Was least quick after six. So it yourself repeated together cheerful. Neither it cordial so painful picture studied if. Sex him position doubtful resolved boy expenses. Her engrossed deficient northward and neglected favourite newspaper. But use peculiar produced concerns ten Raw Bert of Flamebo?
* (or later, depending on what's more convenient for Marko and the City of Brass)
(Yes, this is me saying: "Go to hell, I'll just improvise a small bit", so excuse me for any error and nonsense, they're just all entirely my fault)
I might shift City of Brass a fw seasons later. We have gotten only hald the stuff done we planned and lots of cool stories cropped up that need resolution.
One guard looks at another and says "Raw Bert of Flamebo? Does he mean Robert? Roberto that is?
He shouts down.
"Hey! Do you mean Roberto?"
"Best be careful, we're a bit far North for Moors these days, unless he is looking for vengeance for something Roberto did. He was in some military campaigns back in the day wasn't he?" The man nocks an arrow but doesn't pull back just yet.
The young man listens
The young arab looks at Cidito, looking only slightly surprised, although it's difficult to say if this comes from habit or just fatigue.
Praise Allah, for you, mighty Jinn, speaks the tongue of the Prophet!
I came to this far-away land on an epic quest, guided by signs, portents, spirits and jinns alike, searching for a powerful Sahir called Raw-bert of Flamebo. Please, tell me, does he live here?
Relax, you are amongst friends. I am not a jinni, I am a cat. A magic cat, but not a genie. And yes, Roberto is here. But he is not a sahir or any type of sorcerer or summoner. He is a magus. Subtle distinction, true. And he is of Flambeau.
But anyway, you seem harried and stressed out. I'll send someone for Roberto. In the meanwhile, have a seat and relax.
Because of the Gift of Tongues, whenever he speaks in his native language (CAT-a-lan), everyone understands what Cidito says in their own native language. He sends someone off to fetch Roberto, and asks for food and refreshment to be brought to the visitor.
The visitor is offered some bread and fruit and a jug of orange juice. Cidito will chat with him a while, and Roberto will come along in about a half hour. He wears his sword, but only light leather and no shield. He has the old red tattered cape too. Someone should really make him throw that thing away and get him a new one.
At these words, the youth will visibly relax, almost collapsing from relief (the seat is very welcome).
Thank you, mighty cat! You are a surprising blessing for this humble traveler. Although I fail to understand what you mean. Isn't magus a christian sahir?
At some point, cidito (or some guard) will notice that his sword is no longer in his scabbard, although no one saw him lay it down.
Upon being presented food and drinks, the youth's face will illuminate and, after a brief hesitation, he'll eagerly accept it, drinking and eating like a starved man, and thanking profusely everyone between 2 drinks. He'll introduce himself as Riad Ibn Kadir Abd Baaz
Once roberto enters the room, he'll stand up, and look at the magus intensely
Are you Raw-bert-o Flambeau, the powerful ma-gus that lives under the sea? I have traveled far and wide for you, through night and day, deserts, moutains and oceans, brigands and jinn alike, seeking help on behalf of your betrothed and my village. Tell me you are the one who can help us
Not at all. Magus and Sahir are styles of magic that have nothing to do with what faith one follows. A Sahir is a type of summoner, sorcery, which focuses solely on genies. A magus is a practitioner of High Magic, who controls and shapes magical energies flowing though the cosmos. ((This SG has forgotten the Arabic term for a magician, I will reference Blood and Sand when I get home.
We're betrothed now? 'Bout time! But I think she would have told me. Maybe she finally got through to her father, King Triton. Sweet.
Anyhow, I do not live under the sea. I just visit my girlfriend there, she is Princess Soteria of Heracleion. And last time I went to visit her a few month ago, the regione was closed to me and I almost drowned. Even my cat can't seem to get there, and I have been concerned.
But I am ever willing and able to help her and her city if needed, and I will be glad to help you as well if I can. Tell me your story.
It has happened to me many times. Sometimes, if I remember, I copy/paste stuff into a temporary word doc. That way if page is lost due to connection disruption, not all is lost.
But I usually don't rememer to do that
Riad smiles widely
Thank you, great Cidito! Please, excuse my mistakes. I am but the son of an humble fisherman, and, despite the wondrous things I have seen since departing my village, I am still quite ignorant in all these matters. I really appreciate you taking the time to educate me on these matters. This speaks volumes, not only about your knowledge, but about your heart and generosity. May the blessing of Allah be upon you, for truly, you are a king among cats!
When Roberto enters the room, Riad stands up
So you are the great raw- sorry, Roberto of Flambeau? Praised be Allah for leading me to you!
I am sorry, I don’t understand all of what you’re saying about a regione, but if you listen to my tale, all should become clear in due time.
As I was telling the great Cidito, I come from a humble fisher village in the Moorish lands, south of Heraklion.
Since time immemorial, we have been blessed by the King of the Sea. In the name of Allah, he provides us with fish, and his servants warn us of impending storms, in return for nothing but our friendship and thanks.
The blood of the mermen even flows in our veins, for, as it is fated when men and women meet, they sometimes fell in love with our sons and daughters. And although these tales often end in tragedy, for Allah made us too different to be truly able to live together, his misericord still blessed these unions with children.
This is through them that we learned of your exploits and your love with the Princess under the Sea, and your story is famous even among our people.
Sadly, this all changed recently… . Our fishes began to yield less and less, while the sea seemed sicker and sicker, taking sometimes a black, oily quality. Troubled by this turn of events, we tried to appeal to the king’s servants, but none answered our calls.
Then, one day, my cousin Malika found a wounded merwoman upon our shores. Quick to her feet, she immediately warned the elders, but the wounds were dire, unlike anything we’d seen before, and even our best care was unable to save her.
Before she died, though, she told us what did happen. A brutal sealord called Attumah, a devil from ancient times, has been freed from his prison. He has released other evil jinns, and stormed the castle of the King of the Sea, killing him* and his guard. He captured the Princess, and enslaved all of her people. The merwoman, which was a handmaiden to the Princess under the Sea, only managed to escape at great risk, seeking help on behalf of her mistress. She told us to ask for your help, for only your Flame held any hope of felling Attumah. She told us to seek you among the priests of hermes that lived in the Christian lands, but little else.
With that, we had no choice, for even if the odds were slim, even if the survival of our village didn’t depend on it, we had to try and help our friends.
The elders convened, and send 5 young people on a quest to find you, each taking a different road so as to maximize our chances.
I won’t bother you with the tale of my travels, for, despite the wonders and horrors I witnessed, despite the strange and frightening lands I crossed, it took way too much time already, and I fear what may have happened to my family and friends.
That is all, you know everything I know now. I am truly sorry to bring such dire news to you. At any other time, meeting such a great and powerful hero would have been an honor, and I hope to, one day, tell my children how you saved us all. But I’d gladly exchange that with the knowledge that the King of the Sea, and the Princess under it, were still alive and well.
Marko, if you’re uncomfortable with me maybe killing Triton, tell me, I can still change a lot of things, if anything because I only have a very crude outline. I do hope you'll like what I want to do with all of this, but I don't want to destroy story elements you might be attached to.
((I figure that King Triton would be a powerful Faerie or a magic spirit/daimon, so if killed he could still remanifest somewhere else in a story for someone else. So no worries. My only worry is timing, especially considering the time restraints you recently mentioned elsewhere. We may want to consider rescheduling this until after City of Brass, or somehow linking them (which is also a cool option I will describe below). For a situation as dire as this will certainly draw away Roberto's entire attention.))
Roberto's expression becomes grim and serious, followed by concern, quiet rage, and then his jaw locks in an expression of determination. "I pledge my sword to thy cause, and vow upon my very life that I shall not rest until my beloved has been rescued and this tyrant put to death! I shall petition the covenant council to assign me a fighting force, and if need be I will find the funds to hire my own contingent.
I am going to need to call in some help with this one.
Cidito! I need you to take a message to an old friend of mine. Do you remember my old friend Wirth? Take a message to him, tell him what has happened and that I need the help of an amicus, stalwart and true. The magi of Andorra are certainly mighty, but this calls for the subtle strength of an Apromorian ally."
Just one thing to throw out there...If you guys have the The Sundered Eagle, the Theban Tribunal book, check out the writeup of the covenant Aegaea (where Acutus spent some time). Triton is actually listed as their Patron (every covenant in the Theban tribunal has a Patron) and it even describes the different types of attendents and warriors in his retinue.