There's More to Life Than Sun and Sand [Jilitse]

[Jabran]

Timestamp: 45th of Spring 511 AV Jabran and Chulyein wove amongst the trees of the Keerdash Grove. The Chaktawe felt good to be back here. Although he did not have a permanent home this was the place that resonated with him most and felt most like home to him. Each year he looked forward to spring, always relishing the thought of sitting beneath these beautiful trees doing nothing but thinking, revering his deities and honing his skills. He stroked Chulyein’s coat causing the horse to come to a slow stop amidst a group of red leaved trees. Jabran got off his companion’s back letting the horse run free on the hot sands. Jabran moved to the closest tree and sat with his back comfortably against it, the weight of his body causing him to, only slightly, sink into the sand under him. As he sat he watched his horse gallop here and there, presumably looking for anything to eat in this vast barren land. Jabran took his eyes off Chulyein and placed the spear he was carrying on the ground, half covered by sand. He looked out to the horizon offering a silent prayer to Makutsi to bring rain this spring and summer, although he knew it would be unlikely. Even in the shade of the tree the Chawtawe could feel the heat of the sun on him. He closed his eyes in order to protect them, using the small black dots on his fingers to perceive the world around him. All he could feel was Chulyein’s movements, slow and precise as they were. Not another creature stirred around him, just the way that he liked it. A red leaf slowly fell from above him. It flew unnoticed until it scraped off his knee and landed in the sand. Jabran raised his head, opened his eyes and outstretched a hand, now ignoring any vibrations in the air. He carefully lifted the leaf and gently held it between his fingers. A rare smile graced his face as he beheld this leaf, the reason for his tribes coming to the Keerdash Grove, this wonderful excluded spot, the most magical and entrancing place in all Eyktol, in his humble opinion. He softly rubbed the leaf between his fingers, the colour staining his copper skin a reddish hue.

[Jilitse]

Jilitse, a Nuit, and Jasa'lah, a Benshiran, had made their way past through Ahnatep. The journey was long and tiresome. Fortunately, Jilitse was taking her exposure to different and varied cultures with ease, holding onto her goals tightly. Her distaste for Jasa'lah's behavior had slowly been fading, owed - perhaps - due to his companionship. The journey through Cyphrus alone was not something Jilitse could have done by herself. Traveling across borders had taught her that much. They have been traveling the burning sands as fast as they could. Jilitse had persuaded Jasa'lah to teach her how to navigate through the stars, partly because there was nothing to do for the most part. Finding shade was a feat, and Jasa'lah traveled oddly - two breaks a day of four bells each, one in the heat of the afternoon, and another one in the cold of dawn. He explained that it would be silly to travel when weather was unkind. At the very least, Jilitse's mountain pony and Jasa'lah's camels appreciated the untimely stops. Not that it mattered to Jilitse, who was submitted to silence and boredom whenever her non-undead friends decided that they needed to take their nap. By the Benshiran, they were traveling south-west through Eyktol in order to reach Yahebah. Water is scarce, supplies were evenly rationed. Jilitse found it amusing that they had to buy more food for their animals than for Jasa'lah. She was, at the very least, thankful that she did not need to eat nor drink, otherwise her horse will be carrying her dead, not undead, body to Yahebah. Who knew animal food could get expensive? She kept in mind that traveling was a discipline of its own, and there was still much to learn. After all, she was anticipating that, from now on, traveling will be a constant activity in her calendar. Everything was going along fine, when one morning, Jasa'lah declared that they might be "lost". His sincere worry kept Jilitse from altogether turning him undead. There was the option of waiting for the night in order to find their bearings, but it seemed as if Jasa'lah knew enough of Eyktol to continue traveling. "It might be better to take a stop at Keerdash Grove," Jasa'lah said, mightily proud of himself, "Our rides could use some real rest." Jilitse just took a long sideway glance at Jasa'lah. Arguing with the human would be too cumbersome. Jasa'lah knew full well that Jilitse had been reserving her opinions, and continued talking, "It is a place where Chaktawe stay. They are people of the desert, like us Benshirans." The Nuit relished the entirety of the desert, until the grove came into view. She marveled, though not outwardly. Shade. Her dying body would appreciate the shade of the trees. They sped onward, and Jasa'lah was the first to notice a man sitting under a tree. He spoke in Common, hoping that the Chaktawe would understand, "May Yahal bless you my friend. We are weary travelers seeking rest and would like to count on your hospitality to help us get through the rest of our travels. My name is Jasa'lah, from the tents of Rahail, sons of Eliada. My lady companion is Jilitse of Sahova, Nuit and mage." Jilitse spoke, accent heavy with the Ancient tongue but passable for Common, "Do we have the honor of knowing the man before us?" She continued, "Unfortunately we lost our track. We should get our bearings by the evening, but the journey had been a burden. Our horse and camels need rest, and though we do not want to impose, we would like to ask if you could at least spare water for them." Hopefully, the man was no stranger.

[Jabran]

Jabran stayed seated, still admiring the leaf that he held in his hand, as the two strangers approached. He had not sensed their arrival until they were speaking to him, however, he did not discern them in any way until a few moments had past, being lost in the self induced trance. When fully conscious he finally sensed their vibrations in the air. Even though he kept his eyes on the leaf he could sense two people walking towards him. Both man and woman spoke to him in turn but, while he understood a few words of what they said, he did not understand enough to grasp their meaning. For this reason he was wary of the two strangers that stood before him. He wondered what had led them here. People usually keep a wide berth of the Grove, unless they are lost or in desperate need of something. There was also a possibility that they wanted to harm him or his tribe. He would have to tread warily he decided, although it seemed quite clear that they meant no harm. Suddenly, he let a loud noise that would startle most people. The noise was not any known language so the two people would not understand it. It was, in fact, one of the noises that Jabran used to communicate with Chulyein, his horse and companion. Not even a few seconds had passed when the Eyktolian Desertbred came galloping into view, his mane been thrown around in the windless air and his black coat shining in the hot sun. When the horse was beside him Jabran finally made his move. Grabbing his spear in his right hand he quickly got to his feet and walked to Chulyein’s side, laying his free hand on the horse’s coat. He kept his spear down by his side, the head of it facing the ground. He didn’t want a fight and didn’t want to seem eager for one either. If they attacked him he was sure that he would have the speed to raise his spear to meet them. Hopefully it would not come to that. He looked into their eyes. The man he instantly recognised as a Benshiran. The colour of his eyes gave it away if nothing else, so unlike Jabran’s own black ones. The woman, he noted, was clearly not of the desert. She seemed quite beautiful to him, although he didn’t understand why. Her eyes gave nothing away and her voice was completely monotone. Jabran would surmise, from first impressions, that she would be as easy to read as a closed book, if he knew what a book was. He turned back to the Benshiran. “Why have you come here?” He asked in his best Shiber. “You kind no come... usually.” He had not meant to sound so blunt but his grasp of the language was very limited, although much better than that of Common.

[Jilitse]

"We are in luck," he told Jilitse, when they chanced upon Jabran, "They are here during Spring." To the Chaktawe, the Benshiran switched to his native tongue and spoke, "Hello, we are travelers. We are out of the way." Which meant that they were lost, "And we are searching for water and shade." Hopefully that appeased the cautious Chaktawe. Jilitse said slowly, "You switched to Shiber? He doesn't speak the Common Tongue?" Her lack of knowledge in languages other than Nader-Canoch and Common Tongue had proven quite an obstacle, especially over the past few places that they have dropped by. It seems that the tongues of people are just as far away from each other as their settlements are. She felt it wise that she was accompanied by Jasa'lah. "Ask him which way to Yahebah." She wasn't in a hurry, but Jilitse did not like Jasa'lah's detours. It was as if he was delaying his coming home. She had always been purposeful, driven, and she made it known that she didn't like being led away from her tasks. When the two men exchanged conversation, she asked again, "Does he know?" The two travelers didn't really look threatening, in fact they didn't sound threatening at all. They seemed to be just as cautious and careful, especially the Nuit, who didn't blinked and analyzed Jabran and every piece of his possessions. As Syna climbed up the sky, Jilitse pulled up her hood. Her right hand caught on the rays of the sun, and her symbol of radiance glinted faintly. Maybe it was just Syna blinding her? Jasa'lah tried to put the Chaktawe at ease, "We came here seeking for water." He spoke in excellent Shiber. Water was an easy, understandable word. "For the horse," Jilitse added, rubbing the head of the somewhat gloomy Mountain Pony. The desert was no place for a mountain pony. Although her mare was holding up just as well as Jasa'lah's camel, it was exhibiting signs of fatigue. Rest was not enough for the horse to recuperate, she needed good pampering - something that Jilitse could not offer out here in the desert. The Nuit pushed her attention to the Grove's trees, observing the peach-red leaves with curiosity. Each place had their own distinct characteristic. The Grove was a sight to behold even more now that they were in it. As Jilitse took in the endless sea of sand and the peach-colored trees, Jasa'lah told her, "Okay so maybe the Chaktawe don't really stay around here all the time, but this man appears to be a little welcoming." "I don't really see water anywhere." She commented. "We could last until Yahebah, have faith." He said and turned to Jabran again, speaking in Shiber, "Please, can we take refuge among your trees?" For all that he knew about the Keerdash grove, it seemed that the Benshiran was really foreign to the tribe that stayed there. Jilitse looked to the opposite direction. She was always questioning Jasa'lah's self-professed faith, and it was only natural to doubt. She would not die out here, if the desert proves to be nothing but a vast terrain of dust and sand. There were always wild animals here and there, and many more unknown things that she dared not risk to lose a companion, human or animal. Jasa'lah's faith moved her sometimes, though most of the time she just did not believe as much as the Benshiran did. His faith stemmed from a deep religious culture, and one does not need a Gnosis to be loyal to a God. She sometimes envied Jasa'lah's relationship with Yahal, as it is something that she wished she had for Priskil. She lifted her face and held her right hand against the sun. Priskil was with her in spirit. Yahebah can't be that far, and hopefully they would get there before the season ended. Never descend into despair again. She hoped that the Chaktawe would be willing to let them take a break from traveling. Or else moving away from the correct path to Yahebah was a terribly bad idea. She reprimanded herself, whispering in the tongue that neither men knew.

[Jabran]

Jabran eyed the travelers curiously. It was clear to him that they weren’t here for anything other than what they had stated. He knew Benshirans well enough to know some of their habits. All this one truly wanted was shade and water. His race would never come to the Keerdash Grove during spring when it was inhabited by the Tatsuwaat tribe unless it was an emergency. They were smarter than that. Jabran looked at the woman as she spoke to the Benshiran. Although he didn’t speak much Common he did understand what she said but decided not to reply to it. He felt now was not the time. Anyway, he didn’t like the way the alien language felt on his tongue. The sounds were foreign and he had trouble making them sometimes. There was one thing that did catch the Chaktawe’s attention though, although he should have guessed it. She mentioned Yahebah. It seemed they were going to the city of the Benshirans. It was a place that Jabran had not been in years and had little desire to go back unless under extreme circumstances. He regularly turned down offers to go there with his fellow tribespeople for bartering with the locals. Every word that was said between the two people that he could understand was scrutinized. “Does he know?” The woman had asked. What was she wondering did the Chaktawe know. Never before had he seen a look like the one this woman had in her eyes. They seemed to be almost emotionless, not betraying her thoughts at all. She was from he north where the climate was more forgiving, yet he saw no sign of fatigue, hunger or dehydration. He began to feel slightly uncomfortable as she stared at him unblinking. It was not something that he usually felt and didn’t welcome it one bit. As she put up her hood Jabran saw something something strange on her right hand. A symbol that seemed to reflect the sun and, as quickly as his eye had caught the light, she removed her hand again. Whatever it was, it was very beautiful. “Horse not good on sand”, Jabran finally said after a long silence. He had come to a decision on the two strangers. They were lost and woebegone he decided, and were in desperate need of help. He was unable to stand by and let them suffer. He felt that it was his duty. “Not my desert. Not my trees.” He motioned to the sand and the red leaved trees. “Desert has not killed you, yet.” This was more of a statement rather than anything else with no malicious intent involved, although the strangers may not see it that way. He slowly approached the two people and took the reins of the pony and, if the strangers would not stop him, he would lead the animal into the shade of the nearest tree. Next he would take out a waterskin that was hidden in a small pouch in his knee length wrap and would wet the pony’s nose. He would then pour some of the water into his hand letting the poor creature have a drink. Once the pony had been refreshed a small bit Jabran would make his way over to the woman and offer her a drink from the waterskin as well.

[Jilitse]

Though not unfriendly, the language barrier was a wall that could not be scaled. This was a chance meeting between beleaguered souls. It was fortunate that Jasa'lah could at least understand and communicate with the Chaktawe. The Benshiran talked to his companion, "I think we could rest for a while. I think I have endured my fair share of hot and dry." He went down from his horse, and led it to shade. The Benshiran came back to assist the Nuit in descending from her own horse - something that she still haven't figured out to do on her own. They ahve been practicing on teaching MP to kneel in order to let Jilitse reach the ground without having to jump from the horse's back. Nuit bodies enter decay slowly, and are not physically able to maintain a pulser's actions. Jilitse allowed Jabran to lead her horse and wagon to a nearby shade, where Jasa'lah's own horse was already resting. If Spring in Eyktol was this hot, how scorching will Summer be? The Nuit observed as the man provided water for her mare, curiously regarding the coal black eyes of the Chaktawe. MP was glad for the water, and graciously accepted Jabran's generosity. When the waterskin was offered to Jilitse, she merely regarded him with a blank stare. "I do not drink," she said. Jasa'lah came to her side and translated it in Shiber, "She does not drink..." He wondered, "May we know your name?" Jasa'lah introduced himself again, "My name is Jasa'lah, from the tents of Rahail, sons of Eliada. My lady companion is Jilitse of Sahova, Nuit and mage." He continued, explaining their itinerary, "We are traveling to Yahebah." Hopefully the other being could understand all of those words. Jil regarded the Chaktawe with observing eyes, wondering what would make this conversation easier. She was glad to meet a stranger willing to part with water, yes. But meeting someone of a different race, of a different language and culture with only a Benshiran in between them to bridge the gap, was not exactly favorable to one traveling the insufferable deserts of Eyktol. She moved her way beside MP, and gently rubbed the horse's dry coat, consoling her complaining horse.

[Jabran]

Jabran had never met many Benshirans capable of navigating the desert to the same degree as the Chaktawe, but he was still surprised that the two travelers had gotten lost, and even more surprised that they had stumbled upon the Keerdash Grove. Not even other Chaktawe ventured near it during spring. It was the haven of the Tatsuwaat, the nest of the red crow, a diamond amidst the innumerable grains of sand. It was not as though they posed a threat to anyone - Jabran’s people were very peaceful, only engaging in conflict when absolutely necessary - it was more to do with the secluded nature of the Grove and the fact that it was Tatsuwaat territory. The Chaktawe respect each other’s territory and those who aren’t of the nomadic race rarely set foot beneath the trees during spring. “Jilitse”, Jabran murmured to himself, testing out the word. The woman’s name wasn’t as strange as other words the Chaktawe had encountered but it still felt odd to him. The other words her companion had said were completely foreign to him. Nuit, mage, Sahova. He had no idea what they could mean which he put down to his poor grasp of Shiber. He watched her as she walked over to her horse. “She does not drink”, he wondered to himself. That put him on edge, although outwardly he appeared unchanged. How could she not drink? It was essential for living creatures in order to stay alive and the basis of survival in the harsh sands of Eyktol. He took his eyes away from her ones. They still told him nothing. Jabran turned to Jasa’lah and gave him the waterskin. “The woman may not need to drink”, he thought to himself. “But Benshiran do.” “My name Jabran”, the Chaktawe said, moving back to where the two had originally found him. He sat beneath the Keerdash tree and folded his legs, cupped his hands together placing them between his knees and closed his eyes. “Yahebah that way”, he said, pointing south west. “You wait here now. Too hot to go.” He sat silent, deep in thought. The stillness of the air told him that he was not the only one. After a few chimes of silence Jabran spoke again keeping his eyes closed and head facing forward. “You need food... shelter for night?”

[Scarab]

Congratulations! Jilitse Skills Points Lore Wilderness Survival 2 XP Desert Travel: Taking Breaks To Avoid Perilous Weather Animal Husbandry 1 XP Desert Travel: Even Benshira Can Get Lost Observation 1 XP Desert Travel: Water Is Scarce Keerdash Grove: A Sanctuary of Shade Chaktawe: Similar to Benshira Recognizing Language Barriers Jasa'lah: Able To Overcome Language Barriers Jabran: A Chaktawe Putting A Horse's Needs First Additional Information : None. Jabran Skills Points Lore Observation 2 Desert Camaraderie: Sharing Water Is A Kindness Riding 1 Jasa'lah: From the tents of Rahail, sons of Eliada Animal Husbandry 1 Jilitse: From Sahova Jilitse: A Mage Nuit Jilitse: Does Not Need Water Additional Information : None. Scarab's Notes I'm sorry this thread was cut short. Great work, both of you! Jilitse - Welcome back to Mizahar! I really enjoyed reading Jilitse's innermost thoughts, as well as your portrayal of the trials of Eyktol's desert region. Seeing how your Nuit interacted with the desert really opened my eyes to the awesomeness of not needing to drink water! I didn't find enough Interrogation in your posts to merit points for a PC at Competent level, but I hope the skills and lores that I did find are helpful. Jabran - I hope to see you return to Mizahar at some point! Your character has a lot of promise. The description in your posts was great, and I found your interaction with Jilitse and Jasa'lah to be very realistic. If you have any questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to contact me.