<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcoPfKF.png)</div><hr/><strong>Name:</strong>Ilhan<br/><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>Djaffir<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Zidir's establishment<br/><strong>Day/Time:</strong>Yaus al-Ittrou (Day of the River), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Night<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>N’ebthe<br/><hr/><br/>This was comfort, then. A lavish host, a companion at his side, and the warmth of a tea cup heating his palms. For an accidental acquaintance Ilhan could have done far worse, he thought as he smiled at N'ebthe then wondered if the sentiment was noticed. How she saw him, and things around him, stoked an endless curiosity not easily slaked with a question or three. Zidir and he had business, but neither one looked eager to pursue it in such distracting company. The host had his fetching kitten, and Ilhan passed the time with a Nefasi shamaness, blind and all seeing and a fair tea maker.<br/><br/>Again, he did not come to buy N'ebthe for himself. Ilhan had no interest in owning her, both in deference to his faith and his particular nature with women. For the moment he was just a simple guest, and so Ilhan drew the Nefasi's attention with a finger along her arm pulling her misty gaze away from Zidir. If she wished to put him at ease, then he'd only want for her conversation. Free or slave, this was proper for a courtesan of high rank.<br/><br/>But before he could ask another question, or idly regale with another verse, a commotion from the gate shook all four awake from their shared dreaming. Ilhan sat up straight, but Zidir moved away from them to speak with a house servant by the door. Then after a moment and a distant but loud crash, he slipped away with a small apology, leaving Ilhan alone with his two slaves.<br/><br/>"Trouble?" he asked N'ebthe, as though questioning her knowledge of Zidir's affairs and her insight and clairvoyance both.