Brishah looked at the Delzhan, her lips pursed as she spoke in a slightly unsteady voice. "I take it that your widely travelled ways have inured you to the idea of a woman who is a warrior, then?" Abruptly, she burst out in uproarious laughter, tossing her head back in amusement. After several moments, it died down and she looked again to Krum, apparently trying hard to repress a smile.<br/><br/>There was still a hint of a chuckle in her voice when she finally spoke in answer to his question. "Karam is not my student," she said, her breathing still slightly labored from laughter, "but he's just over there." She pointed at a barechested man with the darkly tanned skin of the Far South, who wore his hair in a short-cropped cut. At the moment, he was sitting outside the ring, just watching the engagement with a bland, enigmatic smile.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Thufir Hawat</div><div class="spoiler_body">Krum recognizes one of the two current competitors as a practitioner of the style that strongly resembles the movements of a tiger - most probably Tiger Style. The other style triggers something in his memory, but he cannot quite put a name to it - the poor stylist looks like he is in dire straits, though Krum suspects there may be more to him than meets the eye.</div></div><br/><div align="center">*************************</div><br/>As Kheldaran wove deeper and closer to the front of the crowd, he noticed what was keeping the crowd back - more janissaries, loosely spread across the front of the crowd. These janissaries appeared to be of a lower rank than those guarding the Wali personally, as their breastplates were far less decorated (and possibly more practical). Counting quickly, he noticed about six of them spread in a large circle around the front of the temple of the River Goddess, each bearing a large, bronze axe and a grim expression that indicated they were simply<em>waiting</em>for an excuse to use it. Interspersed throughout them were several Immaculate monks, each looking much more serene than the janissaries beside them, and though none of them bore arms, each was as confident as the janissaries beside them.<br/><br/>At that point, a woman beside Kheldaran spoke softly. "These cowards aren't gonna to call the Mother River... they're afraid of what she might do to them if she<em>do</em>come, and what<em>we</em>would do to them if she<em>don't</em>."<br/><br/>Beside her, a man grunts. "And well they should be. Y'think that Akhetan can survive the dry season wit'out her blessin's? Naw. The wali an' his sort might, but us normal folk and our families? We'd be the first t'go."<br/><br/>Another man, standing in front of Kheldaran and the two chattering peasants, turned and hissed. "Shush! The Immaculates are our protectors and won't let the goddess renege on her bargain." His voice was less than certain, however, and Kheldaran noticed that a monk is passing through the crowd nearby, offering words of comfort and support as she did so.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">HairyHeretic</div><div class="spoiler_body">However, his instincts, always keenly aware of his surroundings, told him that something is... odd about the woman beside him. The way she spoke and prodded... It seemed like looking into her more actively might be in order - she had a goal in mind when she spoke, of <em>that</em>, Kheldaran was certain.<br/>((Watchman's Infallible Eye is keying off of her. Something about her bears investigation.))</div></div><br/><div align="center">*************************</div><br/>As Silk made her incredibly sensuous demonstration and moved out, she felt the collective gaze of the teahouse's patrons grow hotter on her back and hips and butt. The expression of the slave as she passed was pure surprise with some measure of hunger, and she heard much muttering as she exited the teahouse (from the front, this time) - it seemed to her that at least<em>some</em>of those particular patrons would remember her tonight...<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">ChaoticSky</div><div class="spoiler_body">At 2015-12-13 10:15:13, Winter King (uid: 47759) rolls: 2d10 tn1: 7 tn2: 10 Result: 0 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=83135)<br/>I gave you a 1 point stunt for that, and rolled it for you in turn. <strong>Also</strong>, you missed the -3 penalty for attempting to work the crowd. It's fine that you did - you would have succeeded anyways even if I knock off 3-5 successes (which would be manifestly unfair), so it doesn't matter in this case, but please do remember that only inspire actions do not have a -3 penalty when attempting to influence a group.<br/>Of course, fair's fair, I forgot to add the difference between appearance and resolve to your dice pool, which would have negated (and more the -3 penalty)<br/></div></div><br/><br/>The midday heat of Silk's patron struck her as soon as she exited the cool dimness of the tea house. Looking around her, she noticed a great crowd surrounding a dry and broken fountain - she was in the Plaza of the Great Fountain! Nearby, the crowd had parted to reveal a somewhat seedy looking youth and a stunningly beautiful woman. The youth seemed quite passionate, while the woman looked more bemused than anything else. In front of her, she heard the mutters of the crowd.<br/><br/>"Perhaps he's...."<br/>"Is that Dennel Starseyes?"<br/>"No, surely not..."<br/>"But she's..."<br/><br/>No sooner had she moved a few steps away from the teahouse, that the crowd suddenly began to part, falling silent once more as they, too, stared at her with wide eyed admiration and desire.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">AndyZ</div><div class="spoiler_body">Seven Words of Wisdom noticed things in an instant that would take others hours to realize. Though the boy was dressed in undyed wool, as though he were a commoner, his hands had very few calluses - they were the hands of an educated or wealthy individual, not those of a peasant or laborer used to work. Her eyes were also drawn to his shoes, which were relatively clean - there was no particular dirt or grime there, as though he was very careful where he walked, or perhaps was borne by horse or palanquin. Putting the two together paints the picture of a relatively wealthy merchant who is attempting to appear as a less well off individual, though the why of it was yet unclear to her...<br/>((You could probably use a read intentions action to determine that, though))<br/><br/>Seven also abruptly noticed that on the far side of the boy and the woman, the crowd was falling silent, and she quickly ascertained the reason for that - yet <em>another</em> gorgeous woman had stepped out of a nearby building and was (nominally) approaching the crowd. <br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Stunt dice</div><div class="spoiler_body">I give you a 1 point stunt for that. Here's your roll<br/>At 2015-12-13 10:22:17, Winter King (uid: 47759) rolls: 2d10 tn1: 7 tn2: 10 Result: 0 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=83136)<br/>Unfortunately, doesn't change much, but you got a lot of information anyways. :)</div></div></div></div>