Aman's father found him in his lab on his Fiftieth birthday puttering over his catalouge of random alchemical effects as usual.  When not imersed in his dutties to Pantheon, Pharoh and Country, Aman would spend long hours in the capitol's temple/university, gleefuly doing the tedius work of hightening the understanding of Ma'at by adding to the eternal catalouge of expiramental alchemy.  He was not adverse to the poetic expression of all that was in creation as the 'ten-thousand-things', but he knew that there were massivly more than 10,000 things within Ma'at, that for every combination that would create a wonder such as alchemists' fire or an antitoxin, hundreds of other combinations would do nothing, and dozens of others would result in fascinating, incomprehensible effects like fizzing, slowly melting, or turning purple.<br/><br/>The work to catalouge them all seemed endless, but that was perfectly fine with Aman.<br/><br/>That they, though, though he'd achieved the full responsibilities of his station several years back, was the day he became a man by gnomish reckoning, so his father appeared in his lab, rolling his eyes and chiding him for working on his birthday.  After presenting him with a new signet ring, the older gnome hustled his son out.  Aman grouched cheerfuly all the way about distractions from the joys of natural philosiphy, but when they reached his chambers and he found within a petite girl with halfling features, collared, skantily clad and kneeling obediently as she awaited his arival, Aman's throat went dry.  His violet eyes widened in delighted awe, and he licked his lips to wet his throat.  He turned to his father to offer his thanks for the amazing gift, but he was already gone.  Turning back, he padded slowly to circle the slave girl, examining her with poetic awe.  He wanted to say, "You're not a dream, are you?" but knew that would be decidedly less than manly.<br/><br/>Instead, after once more licking his red-brown lips, the light brown man spoke, "My, my, girl.  I believe you are the most exquissitte treasure I've ever aquired.  Perhaps I should put  you in a glass box over the mantle?  You're much prettier than that ridiculous jeweled scimitar."