What, Haven't You Seen a Camel Before? (OPEN)

[Isham]

70 Winter, 510 AV

Isham sat proudly in Efram’s saddle as the desert beast plodded into the tented city of Endrykas, drawing stares from several of the native inhabitants. Isham paid them no mind; it was the will of Yahal that he was here, no harm would come to him or his trusty (if slightly stubborn) mount. If Isham blocked out the towering grasses all around the city, he could almost see a semblance of home in the Migrant City. All around him children ran through the pathways between pavilions, their laughter producing a music that forced a slight smile to Isham’s normally impassive face. Within the tents themselves the adults plied their trade. For his part, Efram was less than impressed, groaning and grunting the entire time as Isham tried to find a good place to set up his tent. He had heard of the Drykas being notoriously xenophobic, but surely those were only rumors. “Yahal will provide,” the youth muttered in Shiba, “He always does.”

All around him the sounds of daily work rang out and mingled with the scents. Blacksmiths’ hammers rang in sharp counterpoint to the sizzle of cooking meat, the leatherworkers’ boiling waters creating a bubbling melody when combined with the scrape of a fletcher’s carving knife along the would-be arrow. And above it all were the voices. Merchants, it seemed the entire city was made of merchants, hawked their wares while craftsmen debated the tricks of their trade. The entire city was alive, as much as any of the Benshira tents had been. Isham found it particularly refreshing, and even Efram was being more cooperative than he had been in days, plodding along with a careful, rolling gait that Isham was quite used to after days and weeks upon the trail. While several of the Drykas turned to stare at the camel, Isham paid them no heed until a small group of children gathered round, giggling and pointing at what must have been a very strange animal indeed. Surprisingly, Efram tolerated their petting and giggling with grace; Isham didn’t want to even think about the spectacle that would ensue if the camel decided to spit at one of the young ones, choosing to wave the children away with a good natured smile, lest one of them inadvertently trip his mount.

After several minutes in the city, Isham spotted a likely spot for his tent. Pulling back on the reins brought Efram to a halt. “Kush,” Isham said in Shiba, leaning back as the camel suddenly tipped forward onto his knees, then leaning forward as Efram brought his rump down, sitting much like a dog, with his “forearms” tucked beneath him, head swiveling about lazily atop his long neck. Isham removed himself hastily as the maneuver was complete; Efram was very touchy about people sitting on him for too long while he himself was resting. Moving with purpose and determination, Isham began removing the components of his tent from the saddlebags hanging on either side of the camel. He smiled as a few Drykas goggled at the sitting camel. Just one more way camels were superior to horses in Isham’s book. Good luck getting a horse to lay down for you to get all your things off of it. Working quickly, Isham spread his tarp out on the ground before setting about the business of erecting his tent, focusing intently and drowning out most of the other sounds of the city as he worked.

NoteFor what it matters, Isham's trying to set up near an Opal clan pavilion

[Arabella Starweaver]

She, like many looked at the strange creature and the man on its back. Arabella had never encountered such a thing, and she had no idea what it was. A stench crawled around it though, it was offensive to her nose. She glared at the man as he stopped and began setting up his tent. This would not do, and she felt the need to tell the man so.

"Excuse me, but what do you think you are doing?" she had one of those voices taht commanded attention and respect from people. She didn't care for new people entering into where she lived, outsiders were no always welcome, especially ones with foreign and smelly animals. "Who are you and what's your purpose here?" she always wanted answers, and she would get them by force if she had too.

Arabella got closer to him, examining him carefully, inspecting there surroundings. Her long black hair hung loosely around her and blew in the wind, making her look slightly more intimidating than usual, she had an almost maniacal look about her now. She was in no mood for games, and she was going to let this man know so. Children and people had been petting the beast, she didn't understand that, but then Ara had always been a freakishly clean person, very anal about neatness and things of that nature. She didn't like to touch filthy things. "What is that thing you were riding? Are you aware of it's smell?" she didn't see how he couldn't be aware, but perhaps he was just used to it. It disgusted her.

[Isham]

Isham was so caught up in the business of erecting his tent that he didn’t even notice the Drykas woman until Efram started hawing as if he were upset by something. Cursing under his breath in Shiber, Isham turned to his companion. “What now? You were just fine on the way-,” he cut off abruptly as he noticed the woman staring at him as if he’d just uttered a terrible curse. Standing up from his tent, now half-way erected, Isham reverted to Pavi. He was not well-spoken in the language, but he knew enough to hold a conversation. “I am Isham, from the tents of Haysham, of the sons of Aysaw. I am setting tent, it is obvious.” He shook his head. Women were crazy at the best of times, but apparently Drykas women had an incredible urge to ignore the obvious in search of deeper meaning.

He turned back to his tent as the woman asked more questions, these regarding Efram. Isham replied without looking up from his labor. He would finish his tent; he couldn’t very well be expected to preach the glory of Yahal if he had no place to sleep. “That beast is Efram. He is a camel.” Isham chuckled to himself, he had figured most Drykas had never seen a camel before, simply based on the reaction he and Efram had received on their way into the city, but surely they must have heard of them at least! Apparently not, if the general Drykas populace had the same knowledge as this woman. Looking up briefly from his work, Isham frowned, offended that she would insult his mount. “Efram does not smell. No more than your horses, leastway.” Foolish woman, he thought. Sure, camels didn’t exactly smell like perfume, but, in Isham’s opinion, they smelled much better than your average horse.

Working with an almost feverish speed now, Isham hurried to finish erecting his tent, so that he could begin identifying and speaking to the spiritual leaders here in Endrykas. The world must be exposed to Yahal’s glory. Such was the young Benshira’s mission, and he would not be denied! While Isham worked, Efram turned to regard the Drykas woman, who clearly disliked the animal. The camel grunted at her, almost seeming to laugh in the fashion of humans. “Laugh it up,” Isham said in Shiber, “I don’t think she likes you very much.” Efram turned back to Isham and brayed, pulling his lips back in a grotesque grin. “No,” the boy answered, “I don’t much like you either.” His chuckle betrayed him though. Despite the animal’s headstrong attitude, Isham had raised Efram from a colt, and was quite fond of the obstinate beast, difficulties and quirks included.

[Arabella Starweaver]

She watched him, he spoke to the smelly creature like it was a person, she rolled her eyes at his strange ways. Arabella was curious as to why a dessert dweller would enter Endrykas though, she had heard they didn't travel far out of their own regions. "Well tell me, why are you so far from your own home? What purpose do you have here?" it was a confusing thing, but she thought she might be more friendly towards this odd stranger. She walked further towards him and offered him her hand "I'm Arabella, and you are?" her eyes wandered around at all the things he had brought with him, such strange things, she hadn't seen them before. She turned away and went to inspect them all, curious about his stuff.

Choosing to ignore his comments about their horses she looked at the camel, inspected it, she had never seen one for real, but she had heard the name. It was an odd looking creature with a hump, how in the world did he ride that thing, or didn't he? Did he walk around with it like it was a dog or something? "So...how does it work? I mean the camel, Ephram, I believe that's what you called it." being kind to visitors wasn't usually her thing, but she was in a more generous mood today then she usually was. She stood watching it for a while, it moved around a bit, sluggishly and slow, she just was so confused what anyone would see in these beasts. She shook her head but continued to watch.

It made a face, an actual face, like it understood what this man was saying. She was fairly certain it glared at her when the man was no longer looking, so she glared back then felt embarrassed. Arabella was making faces at an animal, foolish girl she was becoming lately.

[Isham]

Isham continued working as he listened to the woman’s questions; he was nearly finished now. He supposed the act of speaking and working may be foreign to some, but Isham was Benshira, and until the sun set on the horizon, he would not be caught idling in conversation like some vagabond. And besides, if his tent never got erected, how would he relax and enjoy himself after sunset? Clearly it was a high priority. The woman’s questions struck him as decidedly odd. How did Efram work? That answer should have been plain as day, did she not see the saddle on his back? Had she not seen Isham riding into the city, just like what seemed half of Endrykas? Isham still fumed over being stared at like an animal on exhibit, though the knowledge that the Drykas likely did not see many Benshira travelers calmed him to an extent. It was merely another trial sent from Yahal to test Isham’s faith.

Cocking his head at the woman while he worked on tying down the tent-poles, he answered as best he could in his rather basic Pavi. “Efram works like horse. Sit in saddle he kushes, you ride. You want stop, you give him stop, give him kush. He kushes, you get off. You feed him. Just like horse,” Isham finished dismissively while reminding himself to feed the camel, though it seemed the beast was content to pull stalks of grass from the ground with his flexible lips. Efram looked up as Isham finished speaking, braying loudly at the woman, jutting his lower jaw forward in what Isham called a camel-smile. Finally, Isham grabbed the center pole of his tent and worked his way under the fabric, pushing it up before driving it into the ground, then securing it to the four corner poles with his rope. As he stepped outside, he paused in his labors for a moment to scratch Efram lovingly behind the ears, to which the camel responded with a low growl, similar to a cat’s purr.

Isham’s electric blue eyes locked on the Drykas woman, taking full stock of her for the first time. She was not unattractive, standing perhaps half a head shorter than Isham himself. Her skin was too pale, however. Isham thought it made her look sick, though she moved and spoke as one in perfect health. He gave the rest of her body a once over before locking his eyes on her face. He did his best to avoid direct eye contact, but also kept his eyes from straying too far below her neckline. He did not know the culture of the Drykas, but he did not wish to appear disrespectful when he was only a stranger. Isham muttered a quick prayer to Yahal in Shiber before retrieving his bedroll and blanket from his saddlebags, ducking into the tent to set up his meager belongings as he answered her second question.

“I go where Yahal takes me,” came his voice from within the tent. “I am farmer of faith. Yahal provides ground, I sow belief. Yahal reaps reward. Yahal rewards me in kind.” Isham spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world why he was here, though he tried to keep a semblance of patience in his voice. He was not entirely used to his assumed role of priest. After all, he was a son of Aysaw, not of Rapa. He had been through a rigorous argument with his parents over his leaving, but his faith in Yahal was unquestioned, and he was certain the god meant for him to travel north. And so travel he would. Yahal would provide, as He had since the beginning for His chosen people.

tent

[Arabella Starweaver]

Arabella didn't like to be ignored, this man was clearly dedicated to his work though, and so she didn't want to disrupt. She watched him move like his life depended on building that tent. "Do you maybe want some help?" she figured if she offered to help maybe she could learn more about him, plus she liked knowing about the different cultures around her, if she couldn't go see them, she liked when they came to her, made things a little bit easy. Her eyes wandered about, looking him over and looking over what he was doing, he was taller then she, and darker, but then so were most people she knew. Arabella was freakishly pale, her skin seemed to glimmer when sun hit it, and she was harder to spot at night, she blended in with the moonlight.

Shivering, she noticed him watching her, it was still cold out, she hoped winter would end soon, she was so tired of it. Long had she missed the warmth spring brought to her lands, seeing horses and babies, and families out and about doing there own things. "You are lucky you have come here so late into winter, it will soon be spring, our lands are vast and beautiful, this weather must be harsh on someone from the dessert." she wondered if this was true, since he came from such harsh warmth, how was he fairing in such cold. He seemed to be inspecting her, having difficulty keeping his eyes on her face, Arabella frowned at him "Excuse me, but I don't think you've quite reached that privilege yet hmm?" She got snappy with him, she didn't like when people examined her so closely, it made her nervous, feeling watched and scrutinized was enough to bother anyone.

Yahal? She had to assume that was who he worshiped, she knew not everyone knew of the Drykas Gods and Goddess'. "Why has he brought you here? To my people?" She was confused about that, it didn't make much sense to her.

[Isham]

Isham flinched as the woman snapped at him when his eyes strayed below her neckline, though they did not linger there long. Muttering a prayer for Yahal’s forgiveness, the young Benshira turned his eyes away from her, instead taking in the view of the city around him. He seemed to have set up near a pavilion of herbalists of some sort, perhaps his welcoming party could shed some light on just where he was, although with a tent city, that answer was likely to change as soon as they moved again. Allowing himself a few minutes to rest, Isham tucked his hands into the red sash tied around his waist, the left going in just behind the scabbard of his scimitar. “It is only cold,” he spoke in response to her remark on the weather. While true, it was fiendishly cold and wet here, it was not unbearably so. Isham found it somewhat refreshing, for here he didn’t need to worry about the sun burning his eyes out or sandstorms scouring his bones to be bleached amongst the endless dunes of Eyktol. As always, the cold was merely a test of his resolve, and Isham was determined to prove himself worthy of Yahal’s grace.

Springing back into motion from his brief respite, Isham set about untacking Efram, loosening the simple rope halter enough that he could slip it off of the camel’s head, though it remained looped around the animal’s long neck. In response, Efram leaned his head back so that he was nearly looking along his own spine and yawned, an ugly groaning sound that made Isham chuckle at his companion. “As if you’re doing anything other than sitting right now,” Isham said in Shiber, patting the animal good-naturedly on its neck. As the woman introduced herself as Arabella, Isham cocked his head in confusion. Had she not been paying attention when he introduced himself only minutes earlier? Nodding in her direction, Isham slapped Efram’s rump, commanding the animal to kush again. As the ungainly animal rose to its feet in the strange rocking motion unique to camels, Isham spoke again in Pavi. “I am Isham, of the tents of Haysham, of the sons of Aysaw. This I say twice.” Isham did not like repeating himself, but perhaps she simply had not understood him the first time.

With Efram once again standing upright, Isham leaned low to undo the girth. Efram shook his body in anticipation, braying loudly. Knowing what was coming, Isham looped the lead rope of the halter, still secured to Efram’s neck, around one wrist as he removed the saddle from the animal’s back. Almost immediately Efram turned to run, hemming and hawing at what he perceived as freedom. Anticipating the animal’s movement, Isham gave a sharp tug on the rope. While the camel weighed considerably more than the Benshira, Efram was not very fond of running with a taut rope around his neck, and reluctantly turned back to Isham, fluttering his lips in disappointment. “Fool,” Isham spoke in Shiber, “always you try, and never do you succeed. Kush.” As Efram once more lowered himself to the ground, Isham removed the blanket from his back, setting both blanket and saddle, as well as his saddle bags and bow inside his newly erected tent before tying the door flap closed.

Isham turned to the woman, taking the lead rope in hand once more before cocking his head once more, in an amalgamation of confusion and concern that she would dare to ask at the methods of a god. “Yahal does His works through his chosen people,” Isham said in Pavi. “We do not question. He told me ‘Go north. Preach.’ I travel north, I will preach. Your people do not know Yahal.” He spoke it as a statement, rather than a question before gesturing to the newly unburdened Efram. “Efram need walk. You will come? Show us the city? It is big, and we would not want to be lost, yes?” Before she could answer, Isham ordered Efram to kush one more time before turning to begin walking, leading the camel behind him. Whether she guided him or not, Yahal would not let him become lost among the tents, Isham was sure of it.

[Arabella Starweaver]

She didn't get why he was bringing someone else's beliefs to her people, they didn't need it and wouldn't pray to this person, they had their own Gods and they respected them and loved them. She had always been taught her religion, praying to different people for different things had been apart of the Drykas for as long as they had existed, she doubted anyone would want to hear his words. He looked so pleased with himself though, so proud to do this task, and she didn't want to knock down his dream...or delusions, she wasn't sure which it was to be honest.

Had he said her name? She was a little of lately, not really listening to what anyone said to her unless she directly asked them a question. Arabella's distractions came from a desperation to learn about new things, to escape her sheltered life, it was always the same, always happening the same way, the same things every single day. She grew tired of this life, she wanted more, craved excitement and travel.

A tour? He wanted to look around Endrykas? She never understood new people, wanting to see the little world she lived in seemed to fascinate them, she guessed it was nice looking to outsiders. Arabella however, found no more inspiration here these days, she needed time away, time to miss her beloved homeland. But she nodded anyway and agreed to the tour, she figured she could gage him for more information that way. Then what he said sunk in, walk? Walk the camel? It wasn't a dog, why did it need to be walked? Many of the things this man did made her head hurt, it all confused her.