<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/dc/Arouj.jpg)<br/><strong>Name:</strong> Arouj al-Qadir (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=141932.msg6401727#msg6401727)<br/><strong>Location:</strong> The Blue Iguana<br/><strong>Languages:</strong> English, Arabic<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br/></div><br/>Arouj roused himself and opened one eye. Moonrise already? He smiled at the silver orb as she rose from the shimmering black waters of this foreign ocean. She, at least, always wore the same face.<br/><br/>He gave her a  nod and pulled his belongings together. Spice pack, ammo pouch, weapons, everything was in place and secured before he clambered down the trunk of the old pine tree  where he'd slept the day away. Perched on a lower branch, he took a moment to collect a few bundles of green needles and stuff them in his pack, then swung to the ground.<br/><br/>A quick climb over a garden wall or two and he was back on a public street. The lights and noise that rose from the heart of the port town seemed far away from the heights where merchant estates and mansions had sprouted along the mountainside. In reality it was barely a mile, but always worth the trip for the peace of mind. Better to be kicked awake by a lazy guard and told to move along when the alternative was to have your boots stolen by the typical port denizen – with your severed feet still in them, likely as not.<br/><br/>This town had no honor. Arouj shook his head.<br/><br/>A public wellhouse came into sight around a bend in the road. He stopped to bring up a bucket of water and drink deep. “Alhamdulillah,” he sighed, pouring the rest of it over his bent head. Sweet water streamed down his unshaven face and dripped from his sodden tangle of curly brown hair. He passed a hand over his eyes as he faced the ocean. A clear night. A bright moon. A good time to finally find a way off this godless rock. Ride the swell, earn a good share, make his way home to the civilized world. Never should have come this far  west...<br/><br/>He bit his tongue to stop regret from filling his mouth. Turning towards the town he set off at a jog towards the docks where there might – there must – be a few heathen dogs looking for able-bodied crewmen. Whether any of the dogs were trustworthy, well, that was in god's hands.<br/><br/><em>My Brother, walk on and do not look back,<br/>your path has been covered with blood,<br/>And do not look here or there,<br/>And do not look except to the sky.</em><br/><br/>While he turned the verse over in his mind like a well-worn string of beads, Arouj dodged drunkards, cutthroats, and packs of eager whores on his way to the water's edge. Port Diablo was a maze of streets so clogged with filth, humans, and pigs it was impossible to tell any of them apart. He pulled his keffiyeh over his nose and mouth in self defense until he could reach his destination.<br/><br/>A public house with a large blue lizard on the sign hove into view. Closest to the docks and most convenient for any recruiters in search of a new crew. The distance one would have to drag the unconscious volunteers was minimal. He took a moment to check his pistol (dry, loaded) and the old sword at his belt (clean, sharpened) and to drape the scarf around his neck before wading into the press of unclean bodies.<br/>