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Smok Taunter

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“You alright?” asked Millard when he caught his friend flinching in the corner of his eyes.
“Yeah,” responded DeLoren quietly, “I am.”
When he finished he returned the magnificent blade to its scabbard and went to set it along side the armor. But as rose from the floor the guards hurriedly stopped him and took the blade from his hands. From there they put it to rest in into Imal’s knife rack.
The two former knights continued polishing the many parts of Imal’s armor dutifully. As they finished the pieces they put them on the rack. As the night wore late Imal’s armor hung on the wooden manikin. The plates glinted with orange fiery light from the lanterns. As the last piece was placed upon it the two were led out, chain-mailed hands tightly gripping the back of their necks. Again, they were led through the streets.

The stepped foot on the square in which they were set up before Abu and his men, the house in which he himself emerged from stood as tall as ever; lights on the left side of the building shone heartily from inside. The guards led them to his house and reaching out for the door, with a hand held firmly to their shoulders they knocked. They waited till a man answered the door.
This man was not Abu-Bakr, he was a different person. He was a tall thinly built black man with a blue cotton vest over a silk undershirt. His pants were blue and hung loosely on his legs. His face was slim and handsome, a small nose hung on his face. On his chin hung a curly and well kept bird that he rubbed as he looked at the guests. He spoke in Khardian to the guards before letting them in.

17-Jan-2010 19:11:09

Smok Taunter

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The knights stepped into the warm inviting light that was Abu-Bakr’s house. Their feet came down onto the fine polished wood floors then on their second step the red patterned rug that covered it. They looked around taking in the warm coziness of the room they now stood in. candles sat in exquisitely crafted mounts which hung on the walls. Well crafted tables sat alongside the walls holding upon them small copper canisters closed with simple, rounded lids. A glass encased rack displayed a beautiful set of knives forged of the same watery metal as Imal’s, each knife gilded in silver and a goat’s horn handle.
The guard’s led them out of the first room as they followed the tall black man. He led them into a narrow hall where decorative banners and geometric portraits hung. From there he opened a door at the end of the hall and led them in. As they walked through the door many aromas that filled the air hit them.
A mixing smell of sweet smelling tobacco bonded with the sharp and relaxing scent of coffee. In the middle of the aromic cloud sat Abu-Bakr, dressed in the same clothes he wore earlier in the day. In his hand he held a small porcelain cup; tendrils of steam rose from it and drifted up to the ceiling. He was sitting at a dark-red table, next to him sat a women dressed in purple and blue robes that hung loosely on her thin and eloquent body. A scarf covered her head and hid from them her hair. She herself sipped on a cup of coffee.
There was another there too. A well built and attentive gentleman dressed in orange robes that balled and bunched up on his body. In his hand he held a long brass pipe, a blue-grey smoke snaked lazily to the ceiling. He watched Millard and DeLoren with suspicious and sharp eyes. As DeLoren looked into his brown pupils he could feel them dig into his soul and learning the betrayed secrets of their faces.

17-Jan-2010 19:12:00

Smok Taunter

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“You don’t have to hold on to them like that.” said Abu with kind confidence of his safety, “they’re not going anywhere and they pose no immediate threat to us. Let them be.” he spoke the last line with a complimentary wave of the hand. The guards’ grips on their arms let go. And the knights approached the table where Abu sat happily.
“Sit down with us.” He said, “Join us at the table like fellow humans.”
“I’ll stand.” said Millard coldly. Suspicions still clouded his mind, keeping him from practicing various formalities.
“I insist” he said motioning to them to sit with them. DeLoren took a seat uncertainly. Millard hesitated for several seconds and stubbornly sat down next to DeLoren.
“Coffee?” suggested Abu. He moved his hand over to the side of the room where a large copper-orange machine made of various tanks, valves and pipes stood like some machining nightmare. Next to it stood the tall black man. In his hand he held a steaming cup of the black liquid. He was patient for an answer from the two.
“No.* said Millard sternly. Abu looked to DeLoren. “I guess I’ll try some.” he said apprehensively. His friend’s eyes narrowed in apprehension and disgust at what he considered a betrayal by his fellow.
Abu looked at the man at the copper contraption and nodded. He turned, setting his cup down and produced another from under the counter. He brought it to a small nozzle and turned a handle. A small stream of the hot black liquid pored from the machine into the cup. He shut it off once it neared the brim.
The man brought the cup over to DeLoren and sat it down in front of him. He himself then sat down with his own cup at the end of the table. DeLoren picked up his glass and swished the contents around in the cup. Hesitant to put the drink into his throat, though, it smelled good.

17-Jan-2010 19:12:15

Smok Taunter

Posts: 58,110 Emerald Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

A few silent moments of quiet passed before Abu broke it. “I am afraid I have not introduced you to my guests! This,” he said as pointing to the young woman on his right, “Is my daughter Naradine. At the end of the table is Asuf Ab-dine, like you he was once a slave to me. But I taught him to read and write, it was during that time I learned he was an excellent rider and warrior from south of Sophenom. He serves as my aid in cavalry; it suits his knowledge and his exceptional abilities. But, unlike you he was not a war prisoner, but purchased on the slave market.
“And he,” continued Abu moving his hand to the robed man on the far left said of the table, “Is Irabah Dalemera. That is all you are to know of him. And all he will let YOU know of him.
“And as the two of you should know you are to never leave. You already know enough to upset our operations. Thus is the consequence of my chivalry. So, we as a military operation bent on upsetting those of a foreign military action we must make due with your presence. You have begun the first days of your career as a slave to me and my highest ranking of men. Men like Asuf and Imal and I are your new masters. Your service will last for as long as you show any signs of loyalty to your new masters. Then you will be released into our army. Attempting to flee is an unwise action; you are of people not used to navigating the vast golden seas of sand. You will die in three days time. Now drink your coffee.”
“So why invite us into your home?” growled Millard

17-Jan-2010 19:12:42

Smok Taunter

Posts: 58,110 Emerald Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

“Trust,” he said plainly, “You will learn to trust me as I will trust you to not kill me at every turn. I invite you in so you will cast aside the images of me seeded into you by the northern military machine. I am not that evil demon, undead or ghost rumors say I am. I do not hide behind these fairy tales the way your commanders and lords do to make my demise seem all the more important. I am a simple man at the reigns of a not so simple crusade of my own. Our ways are not as full of the sins you have been led to believe. We are not cheap kebabs and cactus water, all riding on camels and wearing swathes of cloth on our heads.
“We will hope you will learn differently from what you have been taught originally. And your learning starts tonight. The drink in your hands is the first step.” he paused briefly for effect, looking at Irabah, “And if you so wish you may experience the shisha tobacco from the south. If he has any left.”
Irabah grunted and said in a deep monotone, “I would if Sophenom hadn’t fallen. I can’t get anything from beyond there.”
A worried look dashed Abu’s face and he nodded slowly to himself. The night went by and they slowly drank their coffee. Abu spoke to his men in the dialect of the desert, leaving their guests in the dark as to the topic. All they could do is sit and watch as their mouths moved and their hands flew through the air, matching gestures with their words. As the hours grew later some of the figures in the room left, Naradine was the first, lightly kissing her father on his bearded cheek before moving to the door.

17-Jan-2010 19:12:58

Smok Taunter

Posts: 58,110 Emerald Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Asuf was second to leave. He spoke in enthusiastic words as he set about preparing to leave. His hands occasionally miming that of a rider holding the reigns, the two outsiders at the table could only gather he was discussing riding with Abu. But they had a feeling he was discussing something differently, albeit related to riding. And the two could not help but fear for what they had in store for their comrades who march oblivious to what’s going on.
The room lay silent with only the dieing gurgle of the water bowling in the copper coffee vats. Abu and Irabah sat silently looking at Millard and DeLoren, it was an uncomfortable moment. But with a sudden and quick movement Abu swept his hands down under the table. Millard and DeLoren jumped instinctively reaching for weapons they did not have. From under the table Abu produced a pair of papers and slid them over to the two knights.
“Here,” some Abu-Bakr as he pushed the papers to them, “study these, I want you to learn our language. You shall start by learning to read and write it. Memorize the symbols; if Imal or Asuf feel up to it they shall help, although, Imal may be inclined to not help. Now good night gentlemen, I shall see you tomorrow.
With that Abu waved his hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. The two guards who were standing at the door approached the DeLoren and Millard. Their armored hands landing upon their shoulders sending up a light cloud of fine sand, the two got up and let themselves to be led away.
They left the house and again found themselves on the street. It had grown very late and the air was noticeably colder. Every house was dark, life being shut off with the night. The two shivered as the plodded through the dark and deserted streets. Occasionally, a militia sort of man walked by; clad in simple leather armor and a basic spear and shield. The man gave them a quick glance and continued on.

17-Jan-2010 19:13:25

Smok Taunter

Posts: 58,110 Emerald Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

After trudging through the dark streets they came across a large, block shaped building. It had no peculiar features on it save for small slit-like and barred windows along the top. The front door was made of solid wood reinforced with large iron bars. The guards led them to this door and forced them through.
The interior was as cold as the biting night air. The entire building was one roomed and the physical contents were simple, possessing only the necessary fittings for a jail. Straw covered the dirt floor and cracks spider-webbed their way across the plastered surface of the walls. Small cells circled around the edge of the building with thick iron bars ascending to the ceiling. The cells showed little evidence of recent use, the floors were swept clean and the small wooden cots lay empty.
The guards opened twp of the cells and pushed Millard and DeLoren into their cages. These barred compartments were separated by another empty cell. The doors were then locked with a loud clang. The guards did not immediately leave; they walked about the room, setting up for them selves and retrieving various odds and ends. One walked to a cabinet and produced two thinning mattresses and blankets. The other produced a chair from the corner and sat next to the door; already bored with his job. The dilapidated bed-parts were given to the prisoner-knights and the second guard left, speaking a quick and quiet farewell to the guard at the door. They laid their mattresses upon the cots and sat.
DeLoren and Millard looked at each other from their cells with equally defeated eyes. “So what do we do now?* asked DeLoren quietly.
Millard scratched his head and took a deep sigh. “The only thing we can do,” he said, “sleep.*

17-Jan-2010 19:13:41

Smok Taunter

Posts: 58,110 Emerald Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The two men lay down, a flood of despair and defeat trampling over them as they realized this was it, the end for them. They now belonged to the enemy. It was the cages, the cells they were in. The bars were more than a physical deterrent to escape but a crusher of morale. There was no way they could escape from their rooms; the only openings were mere slits high on the ceiling, just small enough to fit their fingers through if not their arms. And the openness of the cells put them in the ever watchful gaze of a guardsman armed and suited for any escape. And beyond that was the sandy grave of the desert’s body.
They slept a remorseful and sad sleep.

17-Jan-2010 19:13:49

Smok Taunter

Posts: 58,110 Emerald Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Sand’s Embrace
“YALLAH!” screamed the guards as the prison gates were thrown open. And with rough force DeLoren and Millard were again forced into the bright day-time sun. They squirmed and flinched at its sight trying to salvage their eyes from its bright gaze. Their time in the service of Abu-Bakr, Imal and Asuf was stretching into one long string of labor ranging from the meaningless to the humiliating. Each day they were quickly woken from their beds and dragged around town with only their soiled and torn pants. Their skin reddened from sun-burn. The guards’ hands were painful to their sensitive skin.
It had been several weeks since their capture. The concept of time had corroded. All that remained to them was night and day. Meal times were sporadic and random; often being fed twice a day at times or not being fed at all. They were loosing weight and slowly they began to deteriorate; they were sapping their strength. Their hair was becoming un-tidy and long. Scraggly beards were growing on their faces that itched and became a haven for flees and other bugs.
Rarely did they ever see Abu-Bakr, he kept away from them. Imal and Asuf were ever present figures in their day-to-day routine. The quality of their days depended on who it was they worked for. Imal as-Sadim promised them Hell, both through senseless and menial tasks and ever consistent taunting. He had them carry large rocks up mountain paths, and when they reached the top they were forced to carry them back down. All the while he and his men rode alongside snickering and laughing.

17-Jan-2010 19:14:01 - Last edited on 03-Nov-2010 15:09:05 by Smok Taunter

Smok Taunter

Posts: 58,110 Emerald Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Asuf was better, but it was still menial slave labor. With him they shoveled clean the stalls under his or his guard’s watchful eyes. Although the stench was often horrible it was in the cool shade. When not cleaning the stables and the horses were housed they acted as servants for any of the riders that had their horses there. Helping to dismount and dress their steeds when they went out. Serving them water after a race. Or giving them their arms for when they rode out onto another raid or whatever mission they were to accomplish. Asuf’s tounge was gentler than Imal’*, but the two still received no kindness from it.
Although reclusive and rarely seen Abu-Bakr would make a few appearances, in these appearances he did not seek to interact with his slaves but instead talked with the men that minded him. But these words were concealed by distance and the Khardian language. But, there was an occasion where after speaking to Imal he rode to the slaves and said slowly, “Marhabbah.”
DeLoren and Millard knew not how to respond. After several moments of silence Abu rode away. From behind them they heard Imal roar angrily, “Marhabbteen! That is how you are to respond! Do you not study? He does not like those who do not study!”
It was true, they had not studied and the papers they were given to learn from were left untouched on the floor of their cells. The work they were set to perform left them too tired to read them. Or hunger took front most priority in their minds. It was for this Imal’s boots met their heads violently. As he trotted passed on his horse he glared down at them and growled, “Let this tell you that I – and my master – will not give kindness to those who fail at their studies.”

23-Jan-2010 01:08:06 - Last edited on 03-Nov-2010 15:09:31 by Smok Taunter

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