The smell of horses, goats, and other live stock danced in the air. The quiet rustle as the camp began to wake joined the dance of sounds and smells. Anat sat at the door of her tent easy closes letting her ears and nose take everything in.

The peaceful comfort of the noises was deceptive. The deception fell as soon as Anat opened her eyes. Her people had always carried weapons, but now they carried them more then ever. Guards were posted, watching, waiting. Fear of war was a dark cloud that filled hearts and minds. It had taken it's toll on the camp.

El'shatar, you have kept us this long. Yet, have we survived this long against the invading armies only to be torn apart by fear? We need a sign. Please, any sign!

Anat her heard own family start to stir. Quickly she pushed her ebony locks back under her traditional head covering and started to prepare breakfast her the men.

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Mayyadah was not in a good mood. Jrumba had gotten more tipsy than usual, and one of the younger men had gotten overly attentive to the tall woman. She'd had to nick him in the stomach. Not only that, but he would have had all those things that he would rather have kept on the inside come out if she hadn't stitched him up. Not stitching him up would have been bad for business, but it took a lot of the fun out of things.

Her smoldering eyes stared out at the sunset over the mountains and she sighed disconsolately. Lately the patrons had been a bit rowdier, and last night's adventure would keep them in check. It was much more fun being a woman up in the mountains, with the excitement of being sold, and of hopefully finding a man that you actually loved...

"Is dinner ready Mayya?" Jrumba was always hungry by the end of the day. "Yes, Old Man. It's ready." She turned away from the mountains, and back into the fire lit room. Her owner was already sitting at the table, and she absently put the steaming broth into his plate.
"There's talk of war about." He said licking his fingers a little while later. Mayya snorted, "Theres always talk of way with the Horse People."
"Ah, but now that the D'jin have decided to interfere, the Gods may have no choice."
She shrugged and cleared the table. "We'll know when that fool of a Prince decides something certain."

------------------------

There was something familiar about him... But Hanan couldn't put her finger on it. Didn't he ever just not talk! And he was so ugly on top of everything. The Princess smiled politely and shifted further away from that smelling breath. Gods did the man drink! After another quarter of an hour, she pleaded fatigue and retired to her tent. Her mother stormed in after her, "Daughter! What is wrong with you woman? He's very rich! And he has many horses with which you may amuse yourself."

"He also smells worse than horse manure and is less polite than a toad. Im sure that the old wine-soaked monkey will beat me the moment I touch one of his precious horses. No, Mother. If I will marry, it will not be him." She lifter her head defiantly.

Sighing, her mother sat down on the cushion and passed a weary hand over her face. "I had three sons by the time I was your age. Why are you so difficult child?" Hanan grinned and took her mother's hand kissing it, "Because I have ten older brothers and a father who loves my like the sun. And because I have a mother who charmed my father so much that he married no other." The two laughed, and after a while her mother left.

As she lay down and blew out her lamp, the young woman knew the real reason her mother wanted her married. If war came, and her father was killed, there would never be a chance for marriage. Better a widow than a slave. So to those uncomfortable thoughts, Hanan fell asleep.

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And all will turn to silver glass...



By Goldstrike

Kalif stroaked the side of his mare, coaxing her gently. Farasha, his beloved mare, was foaling and she was a maiden mare. Her golden sides heaved with the contractions, finally pushing out the foal.
"Dear Farasha, you are a mother now." Kalif whispered with a gin on his face. Already she had lurched to her feet as was gently lipping her new foal. Kalif ran his hands over the foal, to get it used to human contact. "A beautiful filly, my dear one." he whispered as he checked the sex. "You will make a fine mother." He rose to his feet after he had given the filly a thorogh rubdown. The sun had just risen, only the top of the blazing disk was visable. "Greet the sun, Daughter of Farasha." he whispered to the filly.

Pebbles slipped and clattered from beneath the stallion's hooves as it galloped along a narrow path. Rashad Al'Ulach leaned forward, lying nearly flat against the horse's neck as he urged it onward. The path twisted to the right, and red light from the setting sun lanced into his eyes. Momentarily blinded, Rashad didn't see the other rider until nearly too late.

Cursing and yanking at the reins, he managed to turn his horse aside and avoid a collision. The stallion came to an uneasy halt, snorting and tossing his head. Rashad quickly brought the animal under control and turned to look at the other person.

It was a servant, who had sprang from his horse to bow and stand again. "Prince Al'Ulach, the Malq requests your presence."

Rashad sighed. His father must have known that he would be out riding. He always summoned Rashad at the worst times. "Tell the Malq that I will meet him later."

"My prince, he requests that you join him immediately."

Rashad frowned, and turned his horse towards the palace. "Very well."

A short time later, Rashad walked into the audience chamber, still sweaty and dusty from his ride. He bowed low and said, "I am here, father."

(i'm going to post soon, I swear!)

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

{bumpeth?}

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And all will turn to silver glass...



By Goldstrike

(my bad. I totally forgot about this.)

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

Hazma turned from consulting a large map spread on a low table. "Ah, Rashad. My son. Come, we have much to discuss." He turned to another servant and pointed to the map. "You, I need a scribe immediately who has skills of drawing." The servant bowed and lightly ran out of the room.

"I fear I have grave news for you. Sit." Hazma motioned to a cushion near his own. "We must wait for your young friend."

Nasir grinned, glad his beard hid it from the eyes of the Malq. Young friend? The man in question was over thirty years of age, but then to an old man everyone was young. The grin faded off his face. Da'ud should have arrived by now. Fortunately, worry ended as Da'ud entered the chamber. He was young and fit, and more importantly devout and levelheaded. He could see this scheme through to its conclusion.

Da'ud bowed respectfully to the Malq and clasped hands with Rashad. The four settled on silk cushions around the table and Hazma began talking.

"You, Rashad, with Da'ud are to go to the Sumbasi tribes. The will of Mor'oak is that we make peace with these theiving flea-ridden --" he broke off with a sour face and continued on another thought. "They likely will not be receptive. Yet the will of Mor'oak must be followed."

Kaliq, invisible in form, listened to the Malq and nodded contentedly. The man was following instructions, if grudgingly. He snapped his nonexistant fingers and squinted his nonexistant eyes at the now blinding sun. Curses, he had forgotten how bright sand could be. Materializing outside a camp, Kaliq clothed himself in Sumbasi attire and tried to stroll through. Any use he could be here to the Jazarat was worth the risk of being a little late in reporting to Mor'oak.

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going on a journey through my old claims

(Naur, is it alright if Cardea knows Kaliq?)

Najib woke later than usual. It had been a long evening. First, one of the men had trouble with a downed Camel who apparently gashed its leg on a post. Najib had assisted in wrapping it, but was fairly sure that the cut was infected. Not soon after his father had called him into a meeting and had informed him that he was to go to the Jazarat city and lead the trading there as his older brother's and himself were otherwise occupied. Of course, Najib had jumped at the chance to prove himself useful, but it had lead to a long discussion of travelling routes and who to bring. They settled on five other men, and as the trip would be overly long Najib also requested to bring his favorite concubine and his first wife.

The dark man slipped from his bed and away from Zaafirah who had curled up as far from him as she could. Her eyes were a bit puffy and suggested crying, he smirked at that. It was amazing how fearful new women could be, but not always unwanted.

After pulling on a pair of light pants the man entered his main room where Samara was already waiting. The man smiled at her, and it was not without some kindness and a fond air - she was his first wife of course, so a part of him would always love her.

"We are going on a trip, Samara," the man said jovially, folding his hands on his lap while watching for the woman's reaction.

--------------------------------------

Cardea had taken on the form of a fennec fox and was perusing a tent filled with the smell of poultry when another smell - a familiar one at that - hit her keen nose. One of her overly large ears twitched and she left her hunt for cooked food to follow the more interesting Jinn.

The Jinn trotted along the sand, her padded feet hardly noting the heat radiating off of it. Hurry, hurry, hurry - she thought, picking up her feet to run after Kaliq.

She didn't much see other Jinn nowadays, especially those still bound to the will of gods.

The fox disguised Jinn was now in step with the other man, although her step was more of a continuous trot. In this form human strides were quite a bit longer than her own, and although she could win a foot race with them, keeping with their walk proved difficult.

Her bushy blond tail flicked to the side as if annoyed that the man had yet to notice her.

Hello there, fancy us meeting, she said whilst implanting those thoughts into his own mind. It was a gift of the Jinn to be able to speak without actually voicing anything.

_________________
Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

((Yeah, that's fine!))

Kalif kept his head down as he walked, shading his eyes from the brilliant sun. Farasha and her newborn filly were still in good health, which pleased Kalif. Her filly would grow to be a gorgeous animal: her dam was none other than Kailf's beloved Farasha, and her sire was a great black stallion from a neighboring breeder. Preoccupied with his horses (as often happened with Kalif) he failed to notice the desert fox that followed him. That is, until the fox spoke. Kalif froze, not yet comfortable with the foreign words that were placed into his head without him even hearing them. Turning in place, he saw the little fox, staring at him with those large, curious eyes. "Cardea" he spoke aloud (unable to speak as the Jinn did), aknowledging that he recognized the little creature. "What brings you to visit such humble a man?"

(Okay, I'm so sorry Naur. I definitely just got Kaliq and Kalif confused. I feel like an idiot. )

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

((I'm so sorry about not being here, but I am also leaving wednesday and I'll be gone for another two weeks... I'll try to keep up.))

Zipporah walked from one tent to another, asking if anyone had seen Aletta, her horse. Apparently she had broken the rope that had kept her hobbled during the night. Zipporah lived almost a secret life, for she was 27, and still unwed. Her father had died, and she watched over her elderly mother. It was then she spotted her horse standing in center of the camp, eating a tuft of grass that had not already been trampled. Zipporah quickly walked over to her and grabbed her by the halter.

((Nurrantiel, I was wondering if the High Priest could see Zipporah somewhere, take a fancy to her, and wish her as a servant... Maybe that is how I would come into the story? Also I would like to get rid of Aletta, and just play with Zipporah, because one character will be hard enough to keep up with because I am gone so much.))

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Thanks Nurratiel, *Ennostiel*, PD, and Githoniel

((Will, would mind if Samarah and Anat knew each other?))

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[ Not at all Lor I will try to post today. ]

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O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

Samarah looked up when Najib entered but then quickly cast her gaze down. She tried to keep her face emotionless as she processed the sudden news of the trip. This was quite unexpected. Najib had often gone of journeys on request of his father, but he rarely brought any of his wives with him.
"Am I to accompany you?" Samarah asked her husband a little surprised. It had been long since he'd shown any interest in her, any love.. But the idea of leaving this place somewhat frightened her. She dared not to ask if her Lana was to come too.
Her hazel eyes now gazed at her husband's face, in the hope to find a hint of reassurance or affection. "To what destination?"

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O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

[ Did this die? ]

_________________


O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.