Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine & Cpt Maltese )
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Captain Maltese on 09-02-2016, 00:33:00</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>09-02-2016, 00:33:00</strong>
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				<em>A dirty and flecked but thick envelope with the bare minimum of porto paid, waiting in a wooden compartment of a huge post office, its address scrawled with a thick pen and its sender information illegible. Inside, two items. The first item being a letter laboriously written on the cheapest possible paper and with a pen with leakage issue. The words written with small letters, close together and in a chopped style that would greatly trouble an experienced graphologist. </em> <br><br>----------------------------------<br><br>Poste Restante,<br>The General Post Office<br>Miss Verity Leigh Prentiss<br>Calcutta<br><br><br><div style="text-align: right;">Written on the 30th August in the year of 1899 <br>under the auspices of Her Majesty Victoria, <br>Queen of England and Empress of India. <br></div><br><br>From Charles, an old forgotten acquaintance.<br><br><br>Miss Verity, you will no doubt pause at receiving a letter from a stranger in this furtive manner but I pray that you will read it through to the end; I think I can say upon what remains of my honor that it will be worth the endeavor. Still, though you will not remember me I do remember you. A long time ago in what was better times for me I had an appointment with your father at your home, and we had tea in the garden while discussing matters of great personal importance to me. That is where I saw you the first time; you probably was no more than four as you walked in on us and gravely explained to us the anatomy of the beetle that was still wriggling lively within the loose cage of your fingers. It was a welcome moment of distraction on a grave day for me and may well have been the hair on the weight that afterwards lead your father to relent to save my name. <br><br>I had nothing to give your father in return of similar weight and he asked for no payment, but I have considered myself in debt to him and by extension to your family ever since. As the decades have gone by however, my fortunes and fate have been on as steadily decline as yours have been on the rise, and I have had to console myself with the surety that this is one more debt I would never be able to pay. Even when word filtered down to my humble part of Calcuttan society that the daughter of the esteemed Prentiss was here enjoying the best of elevated cultivation that this part of India possesses, I knew that I would not be presented to you under any likely circumstances, and I think that this is for the best - even should you look directly at me. Foul years makes for a foul man, of heart and of countenance. <br><br>I did chance upon seeing you one day from some distance not long ago, sitting comely on a horse in the company of men as well bred as their horses. Your name was mentioned for me by a bystander, but I think I might have recognized your mother's features in you beforehand. My friend of old, your father, always was the one who made the good choices. I doubted I should see you again.&nbsp; <br><br>And yet, strangely, fate seem to have cast me a kind glance as if giving me one last chance to pay this old debt. Only a few days after our clouded encounter I was in the Chowringhee Chouk, a maze of an ancient market where a good cudgel or a couple of hefty mates count for much to ensure your business and your wallet if you look too much like an outsider. And yet you can encounter many Europeans there, British Subjects or not, whose business is of many many shades of grey. As it is, I occasionally have my own trade to ply down there and on that day I was in an inn serving dubious gin and anxious card games, looking for a customer for a brand new large revolver I desperately needed to pass on. <br><br>I had recently come into possession of it during a game of bridge from a gentleman of the military disposition and had reason to fear it might be frowned upon if I sold it through an ordinary, licensed gentleman's weapon store. My need for ready money was great though and I chose to casually display the piece to a few men who seemed to have an interest in such things. The offers were pitiful though, as if my merchandise should be only minutes ahead of the Redcaps - the Military Foot Police - and their insistent inquiries. Preposterous, I tell you. <br><br>Either way. After having my spirits dampened and recoursing to a glass of something not so much eye watering as watered-out, I could suddenly feel a gaze upon me from a corner of the inn. A man of some stature sat there, dressed so native that I first thought he was one of the wogs, especially with that unruly beard, but when my eyes met his there was a glitter of blue that never could have originated in this dark continent. He beckoned me closer, and although a sharp rejection was already at my lip I held them back when I saw a glint of gold in his beckoning hand; a careless gesture indeed in these surroundings indeed had he been of a gentler composure. <br><br>We passed a few careful words, and traded names. He said his name was "Atos" which may or may not have been as true and the one I presented myself with. and then we used the darkness of the corner to compare our trade items. I passed him the revolver and a bag of cartridges for inspection, and in return I received a figurine that was partly wrapped in a rag. The figurine was wonderfully heavy and could for an untrained eye pass for true gold. But on the markets of Calcutta, beware of the untrained eye! Still, I voiced my concern and was allowed to use my pen knife to make a small scratch in the base of the figurine, but failed to reveal any lead inside as is unfortunately so often the case. How the man had come about this extraordinary item he would not say, beyond that he had 'come across it while traveling North with a caravan." <br><br>Even though I suspect the real origin was some hapless Hindu temple, I found myself eager to close the deal and make the trade. For one thing I was wanting to let the revolver go on to a new owner as fast a possible, and for another this much gold for even the very newest weapon on the market was a deal that any gentleman would want. Unfortunately I could not get another word out of the man after he had pocketed his wares, but as I was very very interested in the source of his figurine I hung around until he left and then I followed him to Mr Burkes Boarding House, which was not far away but in one of the more northern side streets to Chowringhee Road that leads down to the river. I could not follow him in and did not wish to tarry needlessly in this neighborhood, but at least the strange Mr Atos can be found somewhere. Which was a comfort to me as I hurried away to have the strange figurine evaluated by a more experienced eye, should I have to return in force to renegotiate the deal.<br><br>The next day I did so, and could rejoice in finding myself in the ownership of a good slab of pure gold. According to my jeweler friend it is a chess piece of very old design. Which did not matter to me; once I had had it melted down and sold, the gold made a handsome bite into my debt. But my friend also directed me to look one more time at the rag that the figurine had come in. He insists that it is also quite old, but not of much value to anyone but scholars and they never pay well. His words, not mine. I certainly don't count any scholars among my friends any more, and would rather not tell this story to someone in high places. And it isn't as if I can read this text. And so my thoughts ran to the only scholar I know from memory, and see in this a way to perhaps pay off one more debt. And so I lay this paper thing in your hand Miss Verity, and hope you and your father will remember me as one who at least tried to end things right. May you get more joy out of it than the rag it is now. <br><br>Kindly yours;<br>Charlie.<br><br><br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>----------<br><br><em>Enclosed with the main letter was a ragged piece of thin yellow oilstained leather, which clearly had been ripped from a bigger piece on which there had been substantial writing. What remained of faded text was however clearly in Greek letters. Eyes trained in the classical languages would be able to discern the following words. ".... could not march further for fea... ...tiny. While the main group made ca... select few of us followed our brave commander into the mount... some days march... followed an eagl... ..denly a wondrous and secret place the guardians called Shambh.... nder was aghast that he could not conq.... we left the greatest ... we had and A.. swore we would one day ret... may Zeus be with us. The gatek... "<br></em>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>10-02-2016, 06:00:43</strong>
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				Cotton-gloved hands could not help but carefully, so very meticulously smooth the ancient, oiled leather just one more time, the yellowed scrap laid out atop its newly created wrapping of waxed parchment.&nbsp; No matter this misused, thoroughly abused leather had seen centuries of neglect – those days were over, the moment this priceless piece of the past made its way to the knowing hands of Verity Prentiss.<br><br>The monsoon rains battered the roof and walls of Mrs. Monk’s boarding house, a persistent, seemingly endless percussion that would have normally lulled her to an indolent listlessness, luring her back to the large, net-covered bed for an afternoon nap before tea.&nbsp; But with the arrival of poor Charles' letter… ?<br><br>He had been so very wrong to imagine Verity did not remember him, the balding, near-broken man with the sad eyes and the pinched, desperate expression that lightened only when she brought him her offering of the <em>Chrysolina herbacea.</em>&nbsp; It was the eidetic memory that did not let his face disappear from her prodigious mind, but a child’s innocent compassion that thought such a cloud-grey man might appreciate the scintillating rainbow beauty of the beetle.&nbsp; After all, who could be sad in the presence of a rainbow?&nbsp; There in the Prentiss gardens, among the peonies and the primrose and the lavender, Charles had not been so, at least for a few precious moments… <br><br>And now, after all these years, his thoughts returned to her and her father.&nbsp; Verity knew her father’s mind, nearly as well as her own: whatever debt Charles might have burdened himself with all these years, there would have been no thought for counting the cost on the part of Aleister Prentiss.&nbsp; That simply was not in her father’s constitution, nor hers, and yet she still could not find it in her to regret the arrival of that letter.<br><br>The still surety of her white-gloved lands belied the trembling excitement that set her belly to quivering.&nbsp; &nbsp;For what had to be the hundredth time in the past two days, she turned up the flame of her lamp, sitting up neatly at the sturdy desk of her rented room.&nbsp; She slid the monocle to one dark eye, examining those impossible Greek letters all over again, reconfirming her own translation once more, praying to whatever gods might be listening - even Zeus himself, if need be - she’d not read what she so desperately wished to see into that age-faded text, barely trusting her own surety.<br><br><em>Shambhala… </em>&nbsp; <br><br>The beginning and end of all her reason to be here, now, at the furthest reaches of the Empire, turning her mother apoplectic with the unspeakable, unthinkable impropriety of it all, her fitful state only worsened by her father's silent but obvious pride and his rather handsome farewell gift of a folding telescope.<br><br>Verity bit her lower lip, working it between ivory teeth as she reread the ancient text.&nbsp; No, the name of that mythical city was not spelled out, not in its entirety, but <em>what else could it be?</em>&nbsp; Dear God in heaven, what other <em>‘wondrous and secret place’</em> would be mentioned in the ancient oiled leather, wrapped about some mysterious gold figurine?&nbsp; Oh how she rued the loss of that statuette, but in no way for the price of its precious metals!&nbsp; What she would have given to see what trinket merited this wrapping...<br><br>The fingers of one gloved hand thrummed lightly on the dark wood of the desk top, then began idly tracing the design of the marquetry laid in paler woods.&nbsp; Verity had to admit, if only to herself, there was still the possibility this was either an elaborate fake, forwarded to a gullible woman by a jealous competitor, or that she'd misread the clues all along.&nbsp; After all, the text held far more to it than those tantalizingly few letters that might - just <em>might</em> - refer to the legendary Shambhala.&nbsp; There was some march with a brave... Well, she could only assume a brave commander to a... A mountain?&nbsp; Perhaps a mountain range, for all Verity could surmise - and how in the world did a piece of ancient Greek text ever make its way to Kalkota in the first place?<br><br>The questions!&nbsp; God in heaven, so very many questions - and for all her many gifts, psychometry was not one of them.&nbsp; Verity's fingers curled in frustration.<br><br>So many questions, and only one man in all this vast and teeming city who might begin to answer them.&nbsp; Verity's dark eyes narrowed, her jaw set with a sudden determination that would brook no obstacle.&nbsp; <em>Atos.</em>&nbsp; She would find this Atos, and ask her questions - and only pray he still stayed at Mr. Burke's boarding house.&nbsp; Moving most anywhere through India during the monsoon season was difficult at best, but that didn't mean travel was impossible by any means.&nbsp; If this Atos traveled 'north' with 'caravans,' carrying with him some dubious merchandise at that?&nbsp; It was entirely likely he'd not be still for long at all... <br><br>Her mind made up entirely, a sudden sense of urgency animated her.&nbsp; Verity pushed back from the desk with a sharp nod of her head, standing to her feet before wrapping that piece of oiled leather with all the tender loving care one might lavish upon a child.&nbsp; The cotton gloves were set aside as she glanced out the window to what passed for day in Kalkota now, grey and sodden, washing away all the incessant (and occasionally oppressive) vibrancy that normally swathed this city.&nbsp; Only old habit saw her smoothing the ivory and robin's egg blue cotton of her day dress, dark eyes narrowing thoughtfully as she began to pin up the long tendrils of her thick, dark hair.&nbsp; The boots she wore now would do well enough she supposed, though she grabbed coat and umbrella, a wide-brimmed hat and an old scarf to wrap about the whole, keeping hair and hat in place - she could only pray - on her short trip.&nbsp; She didn't truly hold out much hope the umbrella might survive monsoon rains.<br><br>Mrs. Monk was simply aghast when Verity gave her the address she intended to travel this day - by rickshaw of course, being the only sure way to travel about Kalkota in the monsoon season.&nbsp; Her reassurances she knew exactly where she intended to go only earned her a decidedly skeptical glance from the older woman:&nbsp; yes of course, true enough, the room Verity rented was located at 15 Chowringhee Road!&nbsp; But surely the young woman understood that in a city like this, even a few blocks along the way could... Well, it was a whole different world, now wasn't it just?<br><br>Verity simply smiled, nodding her head pleasantly before asking just how long the rickshaw might take to arrive.&nbsp; If she’d given no care for proper form and decorum in London, who could imagine she would suddenly start minding her mother’s admonitions in Kolkata - much less Mrs. Monk's?<br><br>And besides, she was not entirely at a loss for common sense and self-preservation.&nbsp; Beneath the great wrappings of her coat, Verity's hands lay lightly over the heavy satchel she carried, a small smile conjured for the thought of a certain Major who'd insisted she deserved the extravagant gift of a lovely little British Bulldog - of the revolver kind, of course.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>13-02-2016, 03:41:28</strong>
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				The heat of the morning sun was turning the dampness of last night's rain a unpleasant clamminess through the ramshackle houses in the less fortunate parts of Calcutta; a vast number of wet clothes in the backyards and high over the streets on lines between the upper floors of the house sides were dripping fat drops of water down on the busy walkers and the multitude of beggars. For the first time in days the clouds were not hanging over the city quite as dark and ripe, and it looked like the streets were going to be fuller, much to the enthusiasm of salesladies and beggars - and pickpockets - alike. But the streets themselves were the worse for wear after all the rain, especially where cobblestones seemingly still were waiting to be invented. Chowringhee Road which verged on being stately in the south end where the official buildings resided, looked a little like a very wide cow path in the north end. And already the little side street of Mr Burkes boarding house was being churned into mud. The ekka, a one mule two wheeler wagon standing directly outside the address, was merely adding to the mixture of the street. The driver and probably owner of the little equipage was sitting disinterestedly in the front eating a banana, as he waited for his customer to finish loading his carriage with baggage. One wooden chest of about four feet length was already on board, along with a heavy looking backpack.<br><br>The boarding house front door opened, and Atos came out. He was carrying a chest on one shoulder through the narrow doorway; it was as large as the first one and seemed to be of the same design. As a counterweight the burly man was carrying a satchel on the other side, with the turban like headgear providing some sort of balance. The ekka driver looked at the cargo it was loaded on, then glanced pointedly at his mule as if to wonder if&nbsp; the shipment was possible without killing the animal. It was just a show though; he could always tell by the groans of the axle how heavy the load was, and this was nothing. Evidently the crates were not too badly crammed.<br><br>Atos turned and cordially if briefly thanked the proprietor for his stay, adding a few more paisa to the rupee he already had paid for his stay, humble as it had been. This was purely on principle and according to present custom; Atos did not expect to return. The proprietor, rather younger than his customer, fought the instinct to test the coins as was also custom. After all, never trust anyone. Truth be told, Atos could have afforded a rather more elegant abode for these two weeks he had visited Calcutta. But the price for style is to be noticed, and that was not at all what the stranger of these parts wanted at all.<br><br>Going up to the mule's head before they got off, Atos gave the animal a quick once-over with his eyes and hands. Like an old hand of judging burdens and beasts. As he ran his fingers over its neck sparkling blue eyes met the gaze of big brown ones, and Atos whispered "Hello there Kala". The mule was in good shape for a street worker; patient and strong by race yes, but also healthy and well fed. The beast seemed puzzled as he patted it, but no less than the driver. The stout Bangladeshi might have seen the white man's kindness as weakness and a potential edge to earn more money , had it not been for the the heavy revolver grip bulging out from the open front of his kurta-style jacket and the well worn kukri in his leather belt.&nbsp; Better not to follow that thought. All things taken care of, Atos was about to take place beside the driver when a rickshaw came careening into the narrow side street and he stepped up to place a hand on the mule's neck again. What was this, was the rickshaw driver trying to impress the lady in his passenger seat?&nbsp; &nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>15-02-2016, 04:44:45</strong>
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				<em>Impress</em> the lady?&nbsp; No, it would probably be far closer to the truth to say the rickshaw driver was not so much trying to <em>impress</em> her as <em>appease</em> her, leaving the poor, beleaguered man to wonder if any fare could be worth this sudden whirlwind of an Englishwoman, near as relentless as the monsoon rains themselves.&nbsp; <br><br>Not until they careened to a stop was he entirely sure she wasn't going to get out and help pull his rig right along with him!&nbsp; What that crazy Englishwoman <em>did</em> do was leap out of the seat feet first, the mud of the street splashing up just past her ankles, staining the hem of her ivory and robin's egg blue dress a good six inches up the skirt.&nbsp; She produced a handful of rupees from somewhere in her coat pockets, shoving them into the driver's hands - more-or-less - all in mid-stride as she dashed toward the boarding house stairs.<br><br>Satchel still gripped tightly in one hand, she lifted her thoroughly-muddied skirts in the other, gasping as she did some instantaneous mental calculations on the scene unfolding before her, changed direction, and then sprinted toward the ekka.&nbsp; Heavens, but it could <em>only</em> be him!&nbsp; That singularly tall and broad man with eyes so blue, not even a Kalkota monsoon could have washed away the color!&nbsp; <em>Check.</em>&nbsp; Dressed just as native as he could be, complete with a kukri!&nbsp; <em>Check.</em>&nbsp; And wasn't that a revolver handle he had tucked right next to that wicked blade, hmm?&nbsp; It had to be Charles' own, bought and sold! <em>Check, check and check!</em> <br><br>The brilliance of her victorious smile might have rivaled the sun itself on that cloud-shadowed street.&nbsp; Where any right thinking woman in this world would have taken tall, obviously strong, well-muscled and well-armed complete stranger with at least a <em>pinch</em> of caution, there truly wasn't even a hint of such prudence to be found in Verity - at least not when she was on the hunt.&nbsp; After all, what possible danger could she pose to this Atos anyway?&nbsp; She didn't want his gold, had no use for his wealth or any other thing of value from him!&nbsp; All she wished was a bit of his time, and some information only he could provide.&nbsp; If he be a grave robber or a temple pillager?&nbsp; Well, she might certainly consider him one of the most despicable of men, but the very same epithets had been hurled at her own profession (however unfairly).&nbsp; Verity was in <em>no</em> position to be all <em>that</em> picky about her sources, after all... <br><br>"Wait!&nbsp; <em>Wait!</em>&nbsp; Just a moment, please!"&nbsp; She didn't have a free hand to wave him down, which only lent a certain desperation to her swift strides.<br><br>"Atos, yes?"&nbsp; She picked her way about the cart, grimacing as she yanked her foot from a particularly nasty patch of sucking mud.&nbsp; "I am Professor Verity... Professor Verity... Prentiss.&nbsp; Oxford.&nbsp; Archaeology... Of the... Ancient World... "&nbsp; She held up one finger, begging his indulgence for just a few more breaths before laying the hand that held her satchel against her heaving chest.<br><br>"Right... Right, so very sorry... "&nbsp; Breath almost entirely caught once more, Verity held out one gloved hand to Atos, everything about her promising she was utterly unperturbed by the great man's strange garb or obviously well-tended weapons.&nbsp; "You <em>are</em> Atos, are you not?"<br><br>"I've no intention of holding you up too terribly - I see you're on your way to... "&nbsp; She looked over the ekka meaningfully, the strangely quieted mule and the cart and the trunks.&nbsp; "To... Wherever you'll be off to.&nbsp; But I have a few questions for you, if you'd indulge me.&nbsp; Verity nodded hopefully toward the door of the boarding house once more, dark eyes wide and pleading.&nbsp; "I'd be glad to buy you a drink, if you like?&nbsp; One for the road?" <br><br>Verity even batted her eyelashes for effect, the deployment of her womanly wiles a certain sign of the depths of her desperation to keep this man right here, right now.&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>05-03-2016, 02:47:31</strong>
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				Atos was on the verge of gaping as he found himself in the centre of this eccentric lady's urgent attention. Long unused to such antics, the grave looking man was dazzled as much by her unabashed femininity as he was by the unexpected avalanche of questions. He held up a hand, torn between placing it on her brow as if to calm a skittish animal, or to simply ward her off with a harsh dismissive movement. Yet in the back of his mind, a nagging thought was busily leafing through a whole archive section of old memories in order to perhaps match the sunny face in front of him with some long disconnected and near forgotten acquaintance. Were her facial traits reminiscent of someone, had they shared a wagon or a bed some other year? Could she be someone's daughter now bent on vengeance? So much time, so many faces, so many old memories had passed by. And another thought, busy less with the past and more with the present, wondered how she could have arrived in this way out of the blue knowing exactly where he was. She even knew his NAME. Where had she heard it, and what did she know?<br><br>Fighting the urge to shake his shaggy head, Atos settled for a temporary reprieve. "My good lady! Perhaps there has been some misunderstanding. I know nothing of Oxfords or professors." He slowly realized that already the situation was slipping out of his hands. Even if this Miss Prentiss was foisted off for the moment, she already knew more about him than he knew about her. Having this impressionable scholar run around asking questions to Cherethites and Pelethites alike about him would simply not do at all. Heaving to the unfamiliar task he decided to venture "But Atos is my name and it is not common in these parts. It does sound like the one you are looking for is me, although I fail to see why."&nbsp; <br><br>Atos nodded toward the boarding house. "I am afraid that imposing further on Mister Burke's hospitality would be regrettably inadvisable. For one thing I have already terminated my stay, and for another.... ladies are not allowed on these premises. What would people think?" An alarming twinkle briefly passed across his eyes before it was forcibly repressed. "But I can see that you have many things on your mind, Miss, um, Professor Prentiss. Perhaps we can indeed discuss them further, although I can promise your questions little but vagueties in reply." One more of those nagging little thoughts were telling him dejectedly to shut up at once and watching his language word by word. Already it was getting quite late to leave her with an impression that he was little more than a vagabond. Her batting eyelashes swayed him to stay his horses, for now. What harm could she be to a man of the world, anyway?<br><br>He nodded toward his little equipage. "Now, as you can see my belongings are loaded up and I am loathe to see them leave my sight for the journey ahead, and that road leads north. But if you like we can walk or ride and talk for the length of Chowringhee Road, and on the far end of the market there is a wagon loading place of a sort where we can have tea and shade while my cargo is moved to new steeds. Would that suit you... Professor?" Atos was keen to have a discrete talk, but also proper enough to not point out that the lady of mystery would be perfectly safe in the public eye. As he would be equally sure not to be enticed into some dark corner where her friends might be waiting and strong in numbers. While Atos past had its lacks in education, it was rich on experiences. Few of them started with a nice lady bouncing in from nowhere and then ended happily. <br><br>The ekki driver looked at the two of them, then at his cart and bit his lips. The cargo and the driver and two passengers was a bit much to ask for. Atos understood, and smiled amiably to Verity. "It IS a nice day for a stroll, I must say." The last sentence was cut a little short as a furious fight with many enthusiastic participants erupted nearby, and mud and straws splattered everywhere. "I hope you brought good boots."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>07-03-2016, 06:41:00</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"The very best boots I have, sir."&nbsp; Verity did her damndest to smile up to Atos, though she realized that at the same time her rickshaw driver seemed to have vanished back into rain-sodden streets, a sudden brawl had erupted, and entirely too close for her liking.&nbsp; Courage was a virtue no one ever would ever accuse Verity of lacking, but a bit of caution never hurt either - most especially now that she had the mysterious and intriguing Atos right here at her side!&nbsp; The young woman drew just that much closer to this strange man with the striking blue eyes, the oddly comforting smile and a penchant for going native in his garb at the least, and her hand wound into a fist about the bag with her Bulldog revolver inside.<br><br>She hadn't lied to Atos either, not <em>exactly</em>, about the state of her boots.&nbsp; In truth, these boots <em>were</em> the best she had - or at least the finest, and most expensive.&nbsp; They were quite pretty in truth, and crafted of a fine and exquisitely tooled leather that had been a gift from her mother before she left London.&nbsp; The only problem was, these boots weren't exactly meant for mucking about long in heavily muddied streets, where just one wrong move might very well see stocking-clad foot yanked unceremoniously from its moorings, and one exceedingly expensive boot left to sink forever into the intractable sludge of monsoon-season Chowringhee Road.<br><br>Verity loved her mother, dearly.&nbsp; And she could only pray that precious woman might one day forgive the sacrifice of her gift, all in the name of scholarship... <br><br>"A stroll would suit me just fine, Master Atos," she replied with a breathy easiness belied by the resigned smile she sent his way.&nbsp; Verity still had her umbrella, and she stopped to unfurl it entirely before setting it lightly over one shoulder, the very best of a makeshift shield she could make to place between herself and her companion, and the mud, straw and - in all likelihood - various forms of excrement being flung with abandon by the combatants.&nbsp; The other arm she twined easily through Atos' own, without even so much as a how-do-you-do.&nbsp; He seemed like a friendly-enough and well-spoken man, for all the native oddness of his garb.&nbsp; A gentleman?&nbsp; Well that was yet to be seen, especially when she recalled that devilishly playful spark in his eyes as he asked what anyone might think, should she join him in Mr. Burke's establishment.<br><br>But for the moment she chose 'benefit of the doubt' to cover Atos - until or unless thoroughly proven otherwise.<br><br>The gloved fingers Verity's free hand lay lightly over his forearm as they began their little trek down Chowringhee Road, to the loading station promised at its end.&nbsp; And all the while, the young woman prayed with every heel-sucking step that the next would not be the one to see her bootless, wet, chilled and muddied in the middle of Calcutta.&nbsp; How very like a simple stroll through any London street this might be, if not for the thickly muddied streets.&nbsp; <br><br>Or the various and colorful carts, and the rickshaws.<br><br>Or the teaming and brilliantly colorful citizens.<br><br>Or the fact that the detritus of some brawl was already spotting the ivory of her dress, or at least the portions not already weighted down at the hem with a good six inches of mud...<br><br>All right,<em> fine.</em>&nbsp; This was nothing like London at all - but London was not where she'd be finding the answers to the myriad questions that drove her boundless curiosity night and day!<br><br>"And please, do call me Verity if you like," she added, the smoky warmth of her voice finally emerging now she'd caught her breath.&nbsp; "Professor is a little formal of course, and as we're nowhere near the seat of Oxford?"&nbsp; She laughed softly.&nbsp; "More than a little useless - perhaps even pretentious, I suppose.&nbsp; But that is why I am here in Calcutta, for my work.&nbsp; And I cannot say how very much I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me today, sir."<br><br>"I have with me a little scrap of writing - some very old, very ancient writing that, I have reason to believe, was in your possession not so long ago.&nbsp; I find it... Well, I find the words&nbsp; - or rather, what scraps of them I might pull together - so very intriguing, and I was hoping you might have some insight.&nbsp; And failing all else?&nbsp; You just might remember from where you found this writing."&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>12-03-2016, 01:54:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Very well, Miss Verity." Atos had always found discretion of prudence whenever he ventured into the new worlds of bewildering machines and electrical contraptions, rarely seeking company or lasting relations while he skirted along the edges of society. Better to observe and learn the niceties while revealing and leaving as little of himself as possible. But some things stay the same no matter how the world changes, and Atos found himself beaming with long forgotten comfort as the young lady took his arm. A few discreet corrections of his clothing and gear with his free hand placed the weapons out of sight and buttoned his shirt before his headgear got a better angle, and Atos demeanor lost a little of the Bengal tiger's prowl in preference to perhaps a somewhat rustic colonial gentleman's dash. At least for the moment. The ekki driver was amused but put on an inscrutable face as he followed them almost close enough to tempt the mule to nip at Atos hair or Verity's umbrella. Yet Atos enjoyed the the moment, for its rarity in his present life and for the memories it brought of other times and places. And after all, wasn't this a fine day for a walk with a lady?<br><br>Verity's words about the paper brought him back to the issues of the present with a crash. What was she talking about, what kind of paper trail had he left unwittingly? Atos decided to proceed with caution, and smiled to the lady with the mildest of frowns on his face. "A scrap of paper, you say? With writing of it? I profoundly hope you have not chased me down to seek consultations on one of my shopping lists." The man put a hand inside his jacket and brought out a large but simple leather wallet, and looked cursorily into its contents. There were some neatly folded letters and a small number of bills, and otherwise nothing. "No, everything of importance seems to be present still." He put it back.<br><br>Atos smiled to Verity, letting his mouth work as disarmingly as possible while frantically trying to think over what he had missed. "Perhaps this is some errant page from one of the books I have sold? I should perhaps explain what my own profession entails. I am a trader of some small reputation in the northern district countries; while the large caravans certainly cover the markets for more famous types of merchandise to the detailists and trade houses there, I have found a niche bringing books , pocket watches, certain rare spices and other little odds and ends to some select customers. This is what brings me to Calcutta, maybe once or twice in a year at most. While I usually bring books northward and not down here, it does happen." He patted her arm. "Perhaps if you show me this piece of paper, I could hazard a guess at its source?" <br><br>They were arriving at the outskirts of the cargo station. This was a large place where ox wagons and caravans which had Calcutta as its destination, were dealt with. There were stalls and corrals where horses, mules, donkeys and even elephants grazed while they waited for the next heavy load, and a long line of small wagons and ekkis waited to take the arriving cargo to the final destinations in town. The cargo itself was a small mountain of sometimes expensive and often quite cheap wares, in stacks and in heaps and in walls of wooden crates. The storage of an empire and of the world encircling it. Here and there were small buildings where clerks and workers controlled it all with little chits and long lists. Atos took aim at one of the sheds that had a large "15" painted in white on its otherwise bare wall. Outside it, like the other similar sheds, were benches and tables with shades for the more affluent customers. Drivers and workers were of course of lower caste and those who were not busily working found a humbler resting place in the hay stacks.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>14-03-2016, 03:17:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Oh!&nbsp; Of course!"&nbsp; Verity nodded agreeably enough as she gently, cleverly and yet insistently maneuvered the much larger man toward one of the shade-covered tables.&nbsp; For the first time since she'd taken the blue-eyed man's arm so brazenly in a Calcutta street, she wondered whether her enthusiasm might have overshadowed the better part of wisdom.&nbsp; That unspeakably handsome and disarming utterly smile shining from beneath his beard promised that every word from his lips <em>must</em> be true - and not only true, but <em>better</em> than true.&nbsp; That what he told her, was completely reasonable.&nbsp; <br><br>And yet what was reasonable at all about a 'simple' vendor of books and pocket watches, a merchant of spices and odds and ends, buying a gun with a bar of <em>pure gold?</em>&nbsp; A bar of precious, pure gold, wrapped in an ancient paper that whispered so sweetly and suggestively of <em>Shambhala... ?</em><br><br>Verity's sudden suspicions were shaded by her dark eyes as the strange pair moved beneath one of the shades, and she finally released his arm to close her [thankfully not-mule-chewed] umbrella.&nbsp; Still standing, she leaned it against the table before setting her own bag up on the table, opening up the drawstrings swiftly.&nbsp; Verity fished the carefully, almost lovingly wrapped parcel from within its confines, taking that precious, ancient article between her fingers as she turned to peer up to Atos, holding the meticulously sealed envelope up for him to see.<br><br>That she left the top of her bag open just enough for a wandering eye to peer a big further inside, to catch sight of the holstered Bulldog revolver within, was <em>probably</em> no accident.<br><br>"I only wished to find some cover before removing this.&nbsp; It is <em>very</em> old, and so delicate."&nbsp; Verity's lovely long lashes batted almost innocently, the lift and furrow of her brows expectant, as if surely this was not something she need point out to a fellow traveler such as Atos.&nbsp; "And after all, a man in your business?&nbsp; <em>Surely</em> you understand, do you not good sir?"<br><br>A dismissive shrug of her shoulders was all she gave as she began to carefully unwrap the parchment, because what choice did he have <em>but</em> to agree?&nbsp; <br><br>She removed her slightly-wetted outdoor gloves, replacing them almost immediately with the white cotton gloves she fished from within her bag.&nbsp; Slowly, almost reverently, she began to unfold the parchment to reveal the inner layer of wax-coated paper and then, beneath that?&nbsp; That precious bit of writing, the Greek script somehow brighter and crisper in the fullness of 'daylight,' even the monsoon-soaked sun of Calcutta, than in the golden lantern light of her boarding house rooms.<br><br>"This."&nbsp; Her white-gloved hand hovered over the lettering as she peered up to Atos.&nbsp; All around them men moved about their business, or lounged on the hay stacks, the professor and the 'traveling merchant' in near as public a place imaginable in this city.&nbsp; Verity's voice dropped low, a whisper for Atos alone just barely rising above the low roar of horses and mules and men.&nbsp; "This, wrapped around a bar of pure gold, traded for that gun at your waist," she said with a telling nod where he'd thought to try arranging his jacket a touch more inconspicuously.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>01-04-2016, 01:05:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atos drew sudden breath through his nostrils, nose wings flaring like on a horse, as he stepped back as if to see Verity fully. His darkening blue eyes never broke contact with hers as he gave her a flourishing bow worthy of a medieval Venetian&nbsp; swashbuckler while waving his headgear in front of him, and the grin on his face that he offered the lady was wide and white as a small glacier. "Why, Miss Verity, it appears your wits have the better of me! The things you know about a humble tradesman's business transactions are truly astounding!" But his voice was a good deal less loud than the flourish of his movements.<br><br>He had of course recognized the paper the moment she mentioned the deal with the revolver. Or rather, Atos now knew that the paper had been mere wrapping around one of the more delicate items he had brought to Calcutta. It should have been of no value in itself. And yet he knew perfectly well from where it had been carelessly picked to be reused like this. Now even a quick glance revealed that he had been careless indeed when he had wrapped the figurine. By the gods, what had he done? That parchment should never have left with him on this journey. Still it had been bad luck added to his carelessness, that it had fallen into the hands of someone being able to read it and understand its importance. No wonder that this young professor woman had come running to him to learn more! Atos' mind raced to the next logical step. She'd mentioned the trade with the figurine and the revolver, something she could only have learned of from... that shifty looking guy he'd traded with. Damn it. But would she also see beyond that?<br><br>Opening his jacket enough to discreetly show her the revolver in its holster, Atos nodded to the lady. His eyes looked around surreptiously. "Your information source is to be recommended. I did indeed buy this weapon on the market, from a British salesman who seemed to desire more discretion that he has evidently treated me with. It really is a work of art and in excellent condition, and will be a worthy sample of this era. I hope to put it to test soon. But while it might be of questionable origins and I may have infracted on a minor law regulation or two for doing the purchase in this way, I for my part paid well. It is mine and I have no qualms about it." He let the jacket slide back to cover the revolver and touched her arm lightly. "But this isn't about the gun anyway, is it not?"&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Atos, in his youth, had been told by his teachers that the best way to sell lies were to sweeten them with a measure of truth. "The golden figurine, and surely also the paper wrapped around it, was bought at the Chakyil Monastery on the other side of the border along with a few other trinkets they were offering to trade for some of my goods. Since it seem to matter much to you, perhaps you should go there and seek their advice. You would be confided to the guest quarter for the stay of course as women are not allowed to walk around on their grounds, but the buddhist monks there are kind and helpful. They will make it their task to find the information you seek. If it can be found. Of course the roads are difficult, what with the weather season and the bandits. You would need to join a caravan or hire some reliable chaps to get you there."<br><br>There was some activity near the shed as the stall clerks started to get Atos' transport together. Two mules and a strong horse were peacefully led to the stall, each seeking out Atos' face with their burly heads when they saw him. In addition to the two crate the ekki had brought up, another two nets of supplies and good were fetched from the store and the two mules were loaded u with them. A rather oldfashioned saddle was put on the horse, along with several closed leather packs. One was longish. Atos looked at the work in progress and nodded, then turned back to Verity as if a new thought had hit him. "Or, I suppose, you could come along with me. I travel faster than many and my reputation can be verified by my business partner all the way up and down the Long Route, and my route will lead directly past that monastery as well as other. But I realize it is a strong suggestion to take up on a whim." There, it was done. The pill had been served, and either he should be able to slip away without fuss if she declined... or whisk her, and that accursed parchment, into the wilderness. And he had told at least some of the truth too. His old teacher Aegeus would have been proud of him. After scolding Atos for losing the damn paper in the first place, of course.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>03-04-2016, 06:29:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You... Wait... <em>What!?</em>"&nbsp; It was a fine, rare day when Verity Prentiss found herself stunned into silence, however long or short that quiet might last.&nbsp; So rare a day in fact, that she couldn't begin to recall another such moment before this quite so stupefying!&nbsp; One where the professor found herself torn between the nigh overwhelming impulse to jump on that once-in-a-lifetime-never-to-come-again opportunity; the far wiser choice to beg off politely, turn about in that muddy street this very moment and head back to her boarding house, disappointed but as safe as Mother would have her; or the fiery urge to slap Atos full on across his face for his abominable cheek, presuming she was the kind of woman who'd take a strange man - scandalously not her husband - up on his offer to slip away together!<br><br>Which she obviously <em>was,</em> but that was neither here nor there!&nbsp; How was <em>he</em> to know that!?<br><br>And just <em>what</em> was Atos about, with that magnificent bow and that damned distracting smile of his?&nbsp; What in this strange and wondrous world did he mean by the revolver he purchased being <em>'a worthy sample of this era?'</em>&nbsp; To put it to use?&nbsp; And what in <em>heaven's</em> name was in all these strange parcels and boxes and packages!?<br><br>Dark eyes still wide with shock at his proposal, the young woman's mouth helplessly opened and closed as the war for words waged on inside that inimitable brain, no matter her gawping likely resembled nothing so much as a fish out of water.&nbsp; Verity shook herself then, an irritated shudder quaking through her body as a soft whisper hissed in the back of her thoughts.&nbsp; A hint, a growing suspicion that despite all his fine words, his tempting hints and all the exotic promises of a far-away monastery, this was, in all likelihood, <em>exactly</em> the reaction he was hoping for:&nbsp; flustered, shocked, mortified - all swiftly followed by a tail-tucked retreat back to the safe and familiar...&nbsp; <br><br>Verity took a deep breath, once, twice, before her small, white-gloved hands balled up into fists at her sides, her head tilting to the side just a touch.&nbsp; Verity peered up to Atos just as brazenly as he had down to her, a matching storm in those already dark eyes hovering on the horizon.&nbsp; Her chin jutted defiantly, her mouth a fine, thin line of challenge tilted up at the corners <em>just</em> enough to hint at an impudent smile.<br><br>"Done."&nbsp; <br><br>A single, simple word.&nbsp; One lone syllable, and her fate was irrevocably sealed, hurtling to an end she could not have conjured in her wildest imaginings.<br><br>"As you will, good sir - give me just enough time to retrieve my traveling clothes from the boarding house <em>I</em> am staying at, a moment to pen a note to my parents and arrange for the rest to be stored here in Calcutta 'til we return, and the opportunity to purchase a horse and tack."<br><br>"I'm so <em>very</em> excited!" She patted his hand amiably with her own, exactly where his limb had lighted on her arm.&nbsp; "Why, I think it will be <em>such</em> fun, you and I headed off at a quick clip to the mountains of Tibet!&nbsp; Oh Atos, you <em>do</em> see straight through to that willful impatience in me, however embarrassing I admit the revelation is!&nbsp; You are kind to indulge my whims." <br><br>"I mean after <em>all,</em> knowing what I do now?&nbsp; I suppose I could always ask most <em>any</em> of my many close and dear companions among the officers of the Hampshire Regiment to accompany me.&nbsp; Surely one or two might be spared, don't you think?"&nbsp; Verity batted her eyelashes up to him winsomely once more, all the while plotting the myriad measures she'd be taking to ensure she'd not miss a single opportunity to rout out every last morsel of information on Shambhala along the way.<br><br>"But I suppose that would just make things <em>awkward,</em>" she added with a coquettish tilt of her head to the other side now, complete with the barest hint of a glance toward his waist where, just beyond the material of his coat, Atos concealed his mostly ill-gotten revolver.&nbsp; "I mean for traveling, of course!&nbsp; Their equipment, my equipment... "&nbsp; Verity let her voice trail off, finishing off her thought with a tired-sounding sigh, as if the very thought of it exhausted her!<br><br>"You truly <em>don't</em> mind, do you Atos?&nbsp; A traveling salesman of rare antiquities - and the occasional odds and ends of course - and a professor of archaeology!" She veritably <em>bounced</em> in her mud-covered boots, just a little and quite fetchingly, as she stood so closely beside him.&nbsp; "Oh, we'll be the <em>very</em> best of chums by the end of all this!&nbsp; Can't you just see it?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>03-04-2016, 23:50:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				For the fourth time this day, Atos felt his jaw drop. And the day was still young. What kind of strange, modern woman was this... professor? He had in no way expected her to accept his invitation and part of his mind was still working toward an amiable if sad end to the conversation. "Yes, yes, I completely unders... WHAT!?" He had absolutely nowhere to put his hand and lifted them with a fluster. "I mean... you cannot possibly have considered..." Atos' voice sunk like air escaping a balloon as he saw Verity's eyes. There was no doubt in them, no uncertainty whatsoever. The impossible woman was wanting to come along as if it was just a trifle matter, and he was entirely himself to blame for it. Damned be his careless tongue!<br><br>Drawing in a slow deep breath, the blonde traveler discarded his until now expectations of the near future and scratched his beard as he glumly recalculated. "...Very well then. I guess you will have ample opportunity to change your mind during the first step of the journey until we leave the busy roads and townlets on the plains." Perhaps this was only a temporary fancy, and that she would rethink the adventure after a taste of the discomforts ahead. Yes, better to play along for now.<br><br>Atos waved toward the draft animals and the bemused workers who were carefully holding back a lot of laughter. To them, this was going to be a great story to tell at the fire late this night. "Obviously I have only prepared for my own needs, but we are at the right place to make amends. The proprietors of this place will be able to let me procure another mule and a horse, if of humble breed, within the hour. Indeed it is part of their daily business. Also sufficient tack, some food items and obvious traveling equipment like some extra blankets and water skin. My little tent is still large enough to suffice for two persons... I think. But we sleep on the ground, here is no room for mattresses, so we can both use the extra heat. " His grin returned, like quicksilver seen through tree branches, as he let the images of the travel ahead sink in for her. "I think I have heard of archeology. You study old things, and old ways, is that right? Now you will be living it. Yes, I can just see it." The grin could only get wider and it did.&nbsp; <br><br>Waving the shed manager over, Atos unabashedly looked up and down Verity and judging her as if she was a draft animal. "What they probably cannot provide, is traveling clothes for a British woman. Perhaps something for the size of a young lad, if you are willing to go for something rough and hard wearing, although I am sure they can also provide something very pretty for a high caste Indian lady. But since you seem to have a perfectly good set of clothes tucked away, I am sure we won't need that. I hope your boots are good though because we will travel over harsh mountains at time, but they appear to have been through a scrap already." One of the problems with a discerning eye is that one think one is seeing everything. Rather belatedly he was noticing how close the lady stood to him, and how enticing the bow of her lips and the scent of her hair was. Back somewhere in his mind, bells were ringing and he was resolved not to mind them. "So, should I take care of the extra supplies and animals, perhaps bring a couple of horses so you can choose the one you favor most, while you take care of your errands?" Atos was torn between wanting her to return soon, and not wanting her to return at all.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>10-04-2016, 05:35:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Yes, you should," Verity replied with a tight little smile, some small part of her still reeling at the presumption of this man, that they should share some tiny tent together!&nbsp; And for <em>body heat</em> at that!&nbsp; But she'd be good and damned if she'd give Atos the pleasure of seeing her off-kilter any more than she'd already tottered - figuratively at least.&nbsp; Literally, she was still right next to him, her arm twined in his with a familiarity that - for a few moments at least - had seemed as right and natural as her next breath.<br><br>Now it simply felt... Well, perhaps a little <em>too</em> close.&nbsp; Verity released him, the fingers of her white-gloved hands intertwined with one another now before her.&nbsp; She made herself to take a swift step back, all so she could get a fuller look up into Atos' face (or at the very least, that was <em>exactly</em> what she told herself).&nbsp; <br><br><em>"Please,"</em> she amended quickly with a winsome little tilt of her head.&nbsp; "I trust you to find me suitable options for mounts.&nbsp; After all, I don't imagine you'd wish to have some useless nag holding up your progress on the road!"&nbsp; There might have been just the <em>slightest</em> glint of a challenge in her gaze, daring him to make some cheeky comment about his newly-found companion and useless nags... <br><br>But the moment came and went in an instant, and she'd never know if Atos bothered so much as to open his mouth.&nbsp; Verity wheeled away from him on her muddy booted heel, back to the table where her bag remained.&nbsp; She peeled off the white gloves, brow furrowed thoughtfully as she lovingly and oh-so-carefully repacking her parchment treasure before turning back to him again.&nbsp; Her bag swung lightly at her side, dangling from her hand when her gaze returned to him. <br><br>"I'm not unused to the hardships of the road, sir," Verity added a little primly.&nbsp; "I've slept on the ground before, never fear.&nbsp; And I've hardy travel clothes aplenty - though meant for a more <em>tropical</em> climate, I'm afraid."&nbsp; <br><br>She shrugged her shoulders helplessly, her voice falling to not much more than a whisper.&nbsp; "If it <em>is</em> just to be you, and me, and the monks of a monastery without the least interest in women?&nbsp; I <em>will</em> need the warmer, thicker clothes of a young lad when we get to the mountains.&nbsp; If you'd do that for me as well, I <em>will</em> repay you, every last rupee, when I return."<br><br>And why she should trust Atos to do no more nor less than exactly as she'd asked, Verity might never know - yet she did all the same.&nbsp; Gaining the services of a rickshaw was even easier at the way station, one to quickly transport her back to the boarding house where she'd been staying.&nbsp; An hour wait for Atos and no more as Verity fairly flew through the door, taking the stairs two at a time as she sprinted up the stairs past a thoroughly bewildered Mrs. Monk.&nbsp; There was no time for long explanations as Verity threw herself headlong into her preparations, dashing off a letter to be posted for her parents and packing away the good and sturdy boots she would be changing into once they'd truly gotten on the road into the bottom of a single trunk.&nbsp; Verity suspected she dare not ask Atos to make anymore room or her personal belongings, and tucked in a writing desk and paper and ink and quills enough to last for months to come, sturdy dresses; stockings and leggings that would do well enough until they reached the colder climes; her bag with the Bulldog revolver and that precious piece of ancient parchment; her monocle and toiletries; a thick roll of rupees from the small safe beneath her desk and, last of all?&nbsp; Her rapier, Father's gift.<br><br>A tearful farewell (at least on Mrs. Monk's part) and a list of instructions for the storage of belongings she must leave behind, and then Verity was back on Chowringhee Road once more.&nbsp; She'd not bothered changing her ivory and blue mud-spattered dress for the return trip - what was the point after all?&nbsp; All the roads from Calcutta would be thick with muck for some miles yet.&nbsp; She'd simply have to pray for a chance to wash wherever she might, further down the road.&nbsp; And if she was a bit more red-faced, sweat dotting her forehead brushed away with a slightly muddied sleeve?&nbsp; Then at least Atos could be reassured that Verity was not wasting a single moment of his time this day.<br><br>Breathless and flushed, a small streak of dark brown mud creasing her forehead, Verity returned to Atos in surprisingly similar fashion as when she'd first met him (minus the mud streak and the umbrella, of course).&nbsp; "Atos?" she called, peering over the heads of the throng of workers, the first thrill of panic lancing through her chest when she did not see his ekki - or him - right off.&nbsp; <br><br><em>"Atos?"</em>&nbsp; Her voice was just a touch more insistent, strident, as she jumped to her tiptoes to peer over the dark heads.&nbsp; This <em>was</em> the right stall - wasn't it?&nbsp; "It's Verity... I'm back... "&nbsp; She chewed her lower lip nervously to keep it from trembling, dark eyes darting here and there as she waved for a few more moments of patience to the beleaguered rickshaw driver.&nbsp; <br><br><strong><em>"Atos?"</em></strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>13-04-2016, 01:13:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I am here." Atos came walking toward Verity with one horse muzzle on each shoulder; the animals came with him with the bridles slack in his hand. Their hides had been hurriedly cleaned but the wear and tear of the way station could not be entirely hid. Both had saddles on. Neither saddle was particularly meant for a lady but could be ridden sideways if necessary. "We are taking both of these, and you can choose either for yourself, the other one will come as a spare." Six animals was work enough for just the two of them, but they had a long and hard journey ahead of them. Losing one or two on the road was a very real possibility. "The little one is Selene. She is lighthearted and likes it when you talk to her. Erebus is... more quiet. And strong of mind and muscle. But be kind to him and he'll take on a tiger for you. It's your choice." Atos smile was hiding within his beard; no matter which one Verity chose he'd get entertainment. "By the way. Nice trunk." <br><br>Atos had been good for his word, this day at least. While Verity had been tending to her tasks, he had walked over to the pens where they kept the draft animals that were for sale, and had swiftly chosen one more mule for their little train. Now to pick a horse for a different mule. But the horses were a sadly mixed lot, of the too young and of the too old, of the angry and of the terrified. Some carried the marks of merciless riders or just impatient drivers. Most had been sold off by their owners for a reason, and only the fact that they were still worth slightly more yet as workers than as sausage had saved them from the butcher's axe. The world could be a cruel place for a four legged slave. Atos could hear their wordless voices and the pain inherent in many of them, and wanted to scream. And there were so many of them. This was why he avoided cities! But Atos could make things a little better for one or two of them, maybe. But which of these nags would fit that young lady? Was she even a practiced rider? Setting his jaw and trying to deafen himself from the multitude of sounds, Atos let his mind roam the pens as unobtrusive as possible. Still the odd horse would still freeze and turn eyes and ear in his direction for a few moments, then shake its head as if to get an unseen fly to move away. After a while, Atos noticed a brown pony with a distinctive claw scar on it left hind flank. A dog, or an overly ambitious tiger cub's work? It was enough to lower its value to the people who could afford fancy riding animals, but Atos locked eyes with the filly and what he saw there was reassuring to him. What had harmed her hide had not hurt her young heart. She would be a fitting companion for a young lady, and a playful one too. "Selene, is it?" He only whispered it in the animal's ear. "You are coming with me." <br><br>Then a different voice called to him and he looked over to the other end of the corral. Looming in a corral was a huge horse; it was moving from side to side, too fast, breathing hard in and out. There were fresh lash marks on its fur, and blood on the bridle. A stallion, and barely tamed - if at all. And judging by the looks of the nearby workers, it was closer to the butcher's shop than to ever being tamed. It must have been a wildling, recently captured, or someone had managed to snap its mind. Perhaps an Army recruit who had marched to a different drum? The animals that were in its vicinity were straining at their ropes. But as it moved, as it scraped hard with badly tended hooves on the gravel and dirt, it never looked away from Atos. The man felt his heart move and resigned to the inevitable, patted the salesman on his shoulder and pointed to the menacing one. "And that one. Yes. I know. Let me worry about how to get him from there." He walked slowly up to the stallion, never once breaking eye contact. When he spoke, it was low. "Very well Erebus."<br><br>By the time Verity had returned, Atos had paid for the three new animals as well as for other extra provisions. And he had paid well too, with another little gold figurine - the shed keeper had been very enthusiastic and had thrown in some extra food items and a copper kettle. The clothing had been a challenge though. What Atos knew about modern lady clothing could fit into a single page - with big writing. But he knew very well what practical traveling garb was, and one thing was certain - it was not feminine. It had been a strained conversation with the shed keeper regarding 'suitable clothes for a feminine boy' before an errand boy had darted off to some unseen nearby cloth shop. Eventually he returned with a couple of sets of wide pants and shirts and a heavy coat, all in loose style and Indian cut and decorated in the traditional and rather frilly style. There were also a set of inner, more delicate garb. A boy could wear all this and get away with it most places, but he'd stand out among the lower castes. But then again, Verity would probably stand out in an emperor's court. Even without looking like the bride's groom. Atos shook his head, grinning.&nbsp; <br><br>Behind Atos, the train was now ready. The three mules were tacked up; two had their loads in place while the third one only had a smallish bag on one side, awaiting Verity's gear. In front waited a third horse; a strong but slightly aging grey geldling, supremely calm in spite of the turmoil all over the way station. Its calm was evidently infectious on the mules near it too. He bore the name "Dunamis" with pride. The shed keeper and a worker, eager to get them out of there now that payment had been made, took Verity's trunk and put it on the third mule. Their business in this place now concluded, Atos handed Verity the reins of both horses. "Get up on one of them, I will tie up the other behind us."<br><br>Some distance away at the other side of the main fence, a young Indian boy dressed in rags was watching them intently, chewing a straw. He had been there since Atos and Verity arrived. Only now as the two of them and the train rode off, did he dart back toward the city. He thought he had been very clever, but there had not been any other boys sitting idly watching and Atos had also noticed him. For now, there was nothing more to it.&nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>16-04-2016, 15:52:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nothing more to it or not, a canny Indian boy idly watching them atop a fence didn't catch Verity's attention for even a moment - and why should he?&nbsp; For all her worldliness otherwise, she hadn't the least experience in matters of espionage, much less reason to believe either she or Atos could be the cause for interest to anyone but each other.&nbsp; Besides, she had quite the decision ahead of her now, her dark eyes traveling swiftly between the sweet, almost merry eyes of the lady's pony, and then to the somber, decidedly dignified regard of the stallion:&nbsp; Selene and Erebus.<br><br>That both horses seemed strangely attached to Atos did not escape her note at all, and most certainly not as both - the great and the small - stood at either shoulder like sentinels, bathed in a near preternatural calm as they flanked her reluctantly recruited guide like the eye of the storm.&nbsp; She took the offered reins in hand, her decision made in an instant.<br><br>"I will buy both from you," Verity declared with a swift, decided nod of her head.&nbsp; One gloved hand reached up to pretty, bright Selene, to gently stroke the muzzle she knew would be velvety soft beneath the thin cloth.&nbsp; She glanced winsomely up to Atos as her attentions turned to Erebus, wondering at the expression hidden beneath that beard of his.&nbsp; Her brow furrowed curiously, a slightly bewildered little smile playing on her lips as she tried to puzzle out why in the <em>world</em> his eyes should be shining so impishly bright right about now...<br><br>"When we part at the monastery, I'll likely need at least two good horses to return to Calcutta - and I believe you found the very best of the lot."&nbsp; Her smile widened sweetly as she reached up beneath Erebus' forelock, scratching lightly.&nbsp; In the end, her decision which horse to ride out of Calcutta wasn't truly made by preference, but by pure pragmatism.&nbsp; Selene was the shortest of the two, and dressed now as she was?&nbsp; Sidesaddle was the only way she'd leave this city with any dignity (such as was left to her, at least).&nbsp; She handed the stallion's reins back to Atos - for the moment, at least.&nbsp; <br><br>She might have asked Atos for a boost, but by this point Verity's pride demanded she manage this little feat on her own.&nbsp; The smaller horse truly was a sweet, gentle thing, and she did not seem to mind in the least when Verity led her to a near fence post, climbing up on the lowest run easily before settling herself sideways across the saddle.&nbsp; One leg draped lightly over the short pommel to anchor her in place, Verity and Selene fell in easily beside Atos.&nbsp; She was no renowned horseman, granted, but one thing she <em>did</em> know was how to ride, long and well.&nbsp; The rigors of her discipline, and the often remote, occasionally damn-near-inaccessible locations demanded no less.&nbsp; <br><br>But this had to be the very first of all the expeditions she'd ever been participated, where the destination, the arrangements and the manner of departure had all been determined within the space of a couple hours!&nbsp; For the very first time since she'd laid eyes on this strange "merchant of odds and ends" beside her, Verity began to feel the first pangs of trepidation, that nagging, gnawing uncomfortable anxiety whispering in the back of her head that somehow, some way, she'd forgotten something quite vital back in her boarding room, no matter she knew very well she had not...<br><br>She chewed her lip thoughtfully for a moment before leaning over just enough toward her guide, that their conversation might remain between the two of them.&nbsp; "<em>Were</em> you able to gather some other clothing, Atos?&nbsp; For me, I mean.&nbsp; For the mountains?&nbsp; I cannot imagine trying to ride sidesaddle the whole way,"&nbsp; Verity added with a small, uncomfortable laugh... <br><br>One that trailed off slowly when she realized he'd not once asked after repayment, or arrangements to do so at the least.&nbsp; Verity frowned deeply.&nbsp; How could it be, that a merchant would not think to ask for recompense right off for all he'd invested?&nbsp; All for his time and money and materials - <br><br>Selene shifted just so beneath her bottom, her pretty head swinging up toward Atos, the adulation in her mahogany eye as bright and shining as the sun that normally bathed Calcutta.&nbsp; The adoration she saw there was so unfeigned, so true and unabashed, it all fairly took her breath away, veering her thoughts from the darker, far uglier path they had begun to follow.&nbsp; <br><br>"You seem to have an uncanny affinity with the horses, Atos.&nbsp; How do you <em>do</em> that, earn their affections so readily?"&nbsp; She leaned forward over Selene's withers to gently pat her horse's thick, muscular neck, and whisper soft, sweet little nothings between them.&nbsp; Verity smiled when the little horse's ears swiveled back to listen.&nbsp; Atos <em>had</em> said she liked to be talked to, didn't he?<br><br>"Is that a knack you can you teach me?"&nbsp; Truly, what could it hurt to ask?&nbsp; After all, the very worst he might say was <em>'no.'</em> 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>20-04-2016, 01:51:52</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"Yes, I found clothes. I think they will be sufficient for our travels. You will find them in the sack on the other side of Pax, your mule, opposite your trunk, along with a number of other useful items."<br><br>Atos took the reins of Dunamis, looking thoughtfully at the powerful animal for a few moments before replying. "On the matter of payment, I will not accept any for the animals as yet. Before our journey is at end I think we will know who each of them will be belonging to. " In fact he had never sold an animal for money in his entire life, but this was not the time to elaborate on that. "And I think I will ride Erebus myself today; we need to get to know each other. He has much to tell and have been waiting a long time to tell it." There was no opening to discussion in his voice on this. Quickly he adjusted the stirrup straps to fit his taller body, then put in one foot, grabbed on to the saddle horn and hoisted himself up on Erebus effortlessly. "No point in getting my things from Dunamis, we are not going far on horseback today." Atos winked to Verity. "If we are to live in modern times, why not take advantage of it?" A sharp whistle with the help of two fingers in the man's mouth, and the entire train of horses and mules were in motion. Dunamis evidently did not need more information to follow Atos and the mules, tied loosely together after it, were tugged gently along. It was a task they had been bred and trained for all their life, and the jointed movement was peaceful as waves on the ocean. They were on their way.<br><br>"A knack?" It was a question he needed to consider. First of all, had he been careless again? After all this time of weighing his words and actions on a goldsmith's scales it seemed like every moment spent in this woman's presence turned him into a careless prancer. Dangerous, very dangerous! But then, it was not as if having a rapport with animals was showing off like a sore tooth. Not in this era of machines and books and clockwork. "I don't know if it merits being called a knack." Atos' face and voice was carefully blank now as he attempted to repair his defenses. "And I don't think I can earn their trust any more than you can; I do notice that you have a hand with horses yourself. What would I have to teach you? I guess perhaps I can say I am good at listening to them, and when I listen to them they listen to me." It was technically true but only a fragment of the truth.<br><br>The road north from the loading station followed the river Hooghly, which was wide at this point. Many small and big ships were cluttered over it, with the big ocean-faring tea clippers in the south end and main docks of Calcutta while here at the northern end was a great armada of river traders, family sized dhows, fishing boats and even canoes fighting for space. "Such an old city, and yet the river is older." There was a peaceful, dreamlike tone in Atos' voice that had not been there before.. "A thousand years ago, and this place was no different but for different sail rigs. Two thousand years ago, THREE thousand years ago, maybe even older... still the people would be basing their fortunes on what the river brought them, don't you think? And little has changed, really. Although I will admit that THIS is new." <br><br>They were turning a curve on the busy road, with storage buildings towering over both sides for a little bit. As Atos spoke, the terrain opened again to reveal a crossroad of a different kind: On the eastern river bank, a wood and stone dock had been erected for a single purpose, which was waiting for them: The Rivers Steam Navigation Company Ship "SS Argossa". Already this freight boat had seen decades of hard work and rough life upon this river. There was a permanent ungainly tilt to one of the tar black steam funnel on the roof; both were coughing up small amounts of filthy black smoke as it was deemed better to keep the worn Leeds built engines running than unnecessarily taking the risk of stopping them before the work day was over. It was still a solid piece of transportation, but had never been meant to cater to the kind of passengers that might carry an umbrella. There were hoof marks where there should not be, there were deep dents into the lower bow where weaker obstacles had hit it - or it had hit them - but this weary old mule of the river trade had a few voyages left in her. Atos waved at the old ship, grinning proudly like she was the very queen of India. "Behold, our means of transportation! And we are right in time for the noon departure. This... vessel will be noisy and sooty but by the time it arrives at nightfall, we will have saved three to four days of saddle time. <br><br>The big black stallion was uneasy and clearly did not like the big belching thing in the water, but was not showing signs of panic. To Dunamis and the mule, this was a familiar sight. Climbing down from his saddle, Atos rubbed Erebus' cheek lightly and whispered. "Easy now, warrior. You will find good foothold in there and there will be food and water. Fourlegs do this every day. I will come look for you okay?" Erebus said nothing but looked down and sniffed at the man's hands. Atos knew that apples would be in order. This horse had rarely taken unpleasantness quietly, it was not in his nature. At a nod, a group of Indian handlers approached them from the ship and took over the animals. Once on board and in the hold where there'd be food and even a Judas goat or two to calm them down, the cargos would be taken off their backs until the approach in the north. They were in good and experienced hands; the fortunes of the river boats depended on their reputation and the competition was fierce. The dock officer came over; he had met Atos before and a voyage had already been arranged, but they had a quick negotiation over the unplanned extra animals and cargo. And the extra passenger. But that sort of thing could usually be set in order quickly with some extra cash, as also this time. Atos turned to Verity, looking angelic. "I hope you are not too offended that we will not get our buttocks properly mashed today? We better get on board now or we will end up getting tea from the bottom of the kettle. Hop hop." His English, and his manners, still could use some polishing after all this time. Sometimes however, it was more fun to stay in the rough.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>30-04-2016, 03:49:59</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Did he really just tell her to <em>"Hop hop?"</em>&nbsp; <br><br>Yes, yes he did... <br><br>Verity blinked her surprise as she followed him on the ancient, soot-laden ship, but if Atos believed he was going to get much more of an obvious rise out of her?&nbsp; He was <em>so</em> very mistaken.&nbsp; Did he think her a woman unused to hardship?&nbsp; Or just unused to dirt and the more gritty, low aspects of life on the road.&nbsp; Or the river.&nbsp; Or whatever... Well she'd just school that man with the impertinent grin and those strange ways and words.&nbsp; No, Verity did not deliberately seek out hardship - and why should she?&nbsp; She was an Englishwoman and an academic after all.&nbsp; But that didn't mean she wasn't going to crumble like some sweet sugary confection in the rain if she got a little dirty (or even a whole lot muddy), surrounded on all sides by the smell of unwashed bodies and the pungent musk of animal.&nbsp; <br><br>She wasn't so thin-skinned either, she couldn't take some good-natured teasing, and toss it right back at him too.<br><br>"Mind <em>not</em> mashing my bottom?&nbsp; Psh... "&nbsp; Verity rolled her dark eyes with a grin, one gloved hand rubbing her lower back as if it ached at the very thought, the other holding Serena's reins a moment longer as she slid from the small horse's to the wooden dock planks.&nbsp; "You've obviously spent far too much time in the wilds here Atos, and completely missed the craze for bustles so many of my contemporaries embraced."&nbsp; Little clots of dried mud were knocked off her boots where she landed, every step leaving a diminishing trail of dried dirt.&nbsp; One hand swooshed in the air over her backside and she laughed, realizing Atos probably honestly <em>didn't</em> have the least idea what in the world a bustle might be.<br><br>"Crazy contraptions strapped to a lady's body beneath her dress - right alongside a corset, of course - that more-than-emphasizes the suddenly impossible size of a woman's bottom.&nbsp; The anthropological implications of such a strange contraption are... Well, near infinite I imagine.&nbsp; But since I flat out refuse to wear the bustle?&nbsp; I <em>do</em> appreciate not mashing what little backside the good Lord saw fit to give me."&nbsp; She winked at Atos, and then handed over her sweet Serena's reins and the mule's lead to the handlers who approached.&nbsp; <br><br>Left only with her bag to hold onto, Verity thought to make toward the prow, hoping to be at least somewhat upwind of the soot and eye-watering "scents."&nbsp; But there'd been a promise of tea, and after the breathless, heart racing and headlong rushed events of this morning?&nbsp; There was little the Englishwoman craved more right now than a hot cup of tea, even if it might be perfumed with eau de horse, soot-belching river rat and the aroma of men.<br><br>"Did we make it on time, to avoid getting the dregs of the tea kettle?" Verity asked hopefully, chewing the inside of her lip in concentration as she got her 'sea legs.'&nbsp; She managed to only fall into him just once, her breath whooshed out right along with a soft, sheepish apology and an equally sheepish smile.<br><br>"And of course if there's a price, this cup is on me."&nbsp; Verity regarded Atos a moment longer, this strange man with his strange musings, and his strange way with horses (no matter how not-strange he claimed to be).&nbsp; She was no horse to be charmed by whatever uncanny affinity he might have for the equine, but there was enough there to intrigue at the very least.<br><br>Her gaze fell over the river, and Atos' wistful, thoughtful words returned to her then.&nbsp; "I think there is something of the antiquarian about you at the very least, good sir, even if you're not an archaeologist.&nbsp; You speak to the river as if she were a venerable ancestor, and you even greet this ship like a dear old friend - as dear to you as these horses and mules you'll take no coin for in return.&nbsp; But I do owe you - a great deal of thanks, at the very least.&nbsp; I wasn't sure you'd really be there when I returned from the boarding house."<br><br>That happy memory, Atos calling her name over the throng of men and animals, was still fresh enough to widen her pretty smile.&nbsp; "We've a day together on the river, with nowhere else to go but these decks.&nbsp; I think roaming through your thoughts - perhaps over a cup of something deliciously hot and, hopefully, refreshing - would be fascinating.&nbsp; The stories and legends you must have heard all along your travels... "<br><br>Verity peered up to him curiously from the corners of her eyes.&nbsp; "Have you ever heard of Shambhala, Atos?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>04-05-2016, 17:24:20</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"A... bustle?" The alarm on Atos' face was genuine. "I am afraid that aspect of modern times have passed me by so far without notice. It is perhaps an English thing? I have not been outside this this region for many years." He clamped his mouth shut before he said more than was wise. That he had already noticed her rear curves and indeed appreciated it was probably best not revealed.<br><br>The Argossa was a conventional steam ship, and sturdy if crude. There was a paddlewheel midship on either side, each powered by a mighty engine, and she lay deep in the water because she was built for cargo more than passengers - there was considerable room below for beasts and goods and engines and coal bins, and on the second floor the space normally used for cabins were just storage room for lighter goods. Even the rear half was filled with crates and balls with contents unknown. But the front half of the first floor was grudgingly reserved for passengers, offering benches and narrow tables with a generous view to the river that only a lack of walls could provide. Atos led verity to a free space on one of the sides; there was also some space in the bow but Atos had traveled with this method before and would rather not experience that particular situation again. In the little area at least twenty men, women and a myriad of children were settling for the journey. Although the activities of the children were hardly describable as 'settling'. They were all looking like they belonged to the lower castes or were workers heading back to their homes or farms. This was not a cruise of leisure, but it was an event outside the ordinary and was appreciated as such. The talk was going busily before the ship had even let go of the mooring ropes.<br><br>Atos waved toward the back wall of the open space where a small oven and a few shelves stocked with various goods and mugs served as the on board dining facility. A smiling and immaculate sikh with a gigantic turban had a towel over his left arm and a gigantic brass teakettle in his right. "The tea is, happily, included in the&nbsp; ticket. We are traveling in great style, yes?" Two enameled mugs, exceedingly clean, materialized on the little table section in front of them. Little trays of sugar were spaced out along the tables. Atos bowed forward to draw in the scent from the boiling hot contents of the mug. "Almost strong enough to eat through the mug. Very good!" He waited patiently for the sizzling coming from between the mug and the table to stop while she mentioned the river. "I like things. Physical things. I am a traveler, yes?" His voice was getting wistful. "And I go this way and that, minding my business. And when I eventually go back, things tend to remain. The stone buildings, the rivers, even the roads. But it seems to me that whenever I meet people long enough to remember their names, by the time I come back the names are all that remains - the people, even when they are still there, are no longer the ones I learned the names of. They have been burdened with new sorrows and responsibilities and they no longer laugh as they used to. So I avoid learning names of people, I speak with the animals who only care for the present, I find joy in old rivers and in the wonders of the new world and ply my trade before going back home - where I have my solitude and time stands still. " Atos fell silent for a little and attempted to drink his tea, which was still too hot. Again he had served a very carefully portioned truth. "I am sure you have a home somewhere too, Professor? Walls, relatives, someone who speaks of love?" Parry, then make a feint, there were more than one teacher in Atos' youth. <br><br><br>Then Verity asked about Shambhala and he promptly had a coughing fit. It seemed to take a little while to recover "This vessel is a fine one but she clouds up the air, does she not?" He had a sip of tea even if it was still smoking, firmly determined not to meet Verity's eyes. The tea was hot but not as hot as Atos' seat right now. "Shambhala... I was not aware that such people as antiquarians studied such things as fairytales and children' good night stories. But if it fancies you, I will tell you what I can recall from the mouth of market storytellers and the living rooms of families I have stayed with at brief time." From somewhere in his clothes a meerschaum pipe appeared, its head decorated with a royal looking face. Stuffing it properly from a small leather pouch with rough tobacco and lighting it from the nearby tea oven, it gave his hands somewhere to be for a while. Sweet fragrances were soon exhaled to mingle with all the other elements of the ship. After a few puffs, Atos' voice took on a storyteller's pitch.<br><br>"Shambhala. The city in the mountains and the eyes of the emperor. Before the age of Buddha and before the first of the Hindus, and before the English lifted their first sword, there once was a mighty man among men who wanted to become a god himself, and to rule the whole world. His name was Sanar the goldenhaired, and he was a mighty warrior. Sanar and his army went everywhere their feet could take them, and he laid the earth and the people under his mighty sword. But he was not content to conquer his chosen enemies and demand taxes of the farmers, no, he was a god and needed to do godlike things. So with his many skilled craftsmen he built roads and bridges and cities, so the people should look upon it all and see his work and say Hail Sanar, God of our fortunes! How lucky we were that he came to us!" Atos' voice lowered. "But the world is a big place. And while Sanar's thirst for power and glory only grew, his army grew grey and weary and wanted to see their loved ones again. But he whipped them on to ever new lands. The soldiers, their ranks thinning steadily, started to pray but not to him. And the real gods heard them and looked upon Sanar's work and took pity with his victims and soldiers. And Sanar, they decided, needed to learn his place. Eventually Sanar came to this land too, and for a while ruled it, but ever his gaze was on the mountains in the north. So of course he eventually went there too, but in too much of a hurry and with too few and too tired men. And the gods saw to it that the naked mountains and the snow wore them all down to the bone by the day they eventually came to a wondrous valley of riches, they say. Ancient temples with roofs of gold, dragons, blue field - who knows today what is the truth? Sander and his men were so few that they were welcomed as guests by the rulers of that valley rather than intruders, and far away from his palaces and with worn out sandals on his feet Sandar was humbled. No such riches did he have in all the world he ruled, no such wisdom and cunning did his own artisans possess. It broke his heart, and despairing of the prospect that he would leave no traces here of his own he made the mightiest gift he could from what he had brought him. Noone knows what that gift is today, because he left alone the sacred valley alone - his men were dead or dying behind him, and he only spoke of it once when he had returned to the last city he had built. Sanar said, I own all the cities by one, Shambhala, and in it I left my heart and mind. Perhaps he was right, perhaps he was sick; one thing is true. That he died soon after, and his empire died with him. What lives after him now we do not know, but we know where Sanar's soul rest. Praise the gods." Atos puffed mightily on his pipe, lost in thoughts. And memories.<br>&nbsp;<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>12-05-2016, 03:17:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"Sat Sri Akal,"</em> Verity responded softly to the Sikh man, her hands folded respectfully before she took the offered cup of unspeakably strong tea and wrapped her gloved fingers about the welcome warmth.&nbsp; She turned to Atos with a soft chuckle, raising the tea gingerly to her lips to blow lightly across its spicy, pungent surface.&nbsp; <br><br>"It's a silly, sheltered Western woman thing - not a single lady with an ounce of sense in these lands could be bothered with the nonsense of a bustle."&nbsp; She winked up to him with a sly little grin, taking a tentative sip of her still-steaming drink.&nbsp; "Oh!&nbsp; Now <em>that</em> would perk up the dead, wouldn't it?" Verity asked with suddenly pursed lips and a questioning little lift of her brows. <br><br>As the pair settled into the chaotic order that was the Argossa and her passengers, Verity could only nod her head in agreement - they truly <em>were</em> traveling in great style - greatly, grandly and eminently colorful style, all about them.&nbsp; The press of raucous humanity did not ruffle Verity in the least, most especially the children.&nbsp; She chose not to address the man's questions after her own home, her family or any who might 'speak of love.'&nbsp; Verity doubted she could do London, that great and terrible Belle Dame, the justice she so deserved - or at least not in the raucous confines of this belching ship.&nbsp; As for her family?&nbsp; She was not entirely sure Atos wasn't simply asking for politeness' sake - and in regards to her lovers?<br><br>Oh, there'd been a few, true enough.&nbsp; Verity was not without her admirers for all her outrageous, unconventional ways - or perhaps, <em>because</em> of them.&nbsp; But there'd not been a one yet who could promise he'd hold her heart with an open hand, to admire the wild bird and love it just as it was - all without need of bars, or to clip her wings... <br><br>That did not mean Verity had no regrets.&nbsp; Two tousled, dark haired boys ran giggling past, just barely avoiding trampling the toes of her boots in their wake.&nbsp; Her eyes followed them as they made off for parts of the Argossa as yet unexplored - or perhaps already explored and turned to a fort, or a cave of wondrous beasts?&nbsp; Verity sighed.&nbsp; Yes, there were regrets.&nbsp; None she knew Atos near well enough to share, though she hadn't the least compunction about patting his back soundly when it seemed he'd sucked his tea down the wrong pipe.<br><br>"Well I'm flattered then, you've taken the time to learn my name Atos."&nbsp; She blew lightly over her cup of tea once more, another cheeky little grin curving one corner of her lips.&nbsp; "Not, I suppose, that I gave you much choice."<br><br>"And as for fairy tales and bedtime stories?"&nbsp; Another sip, and a sidelong glance up to Atos once more.&nbsp; She savored the scent of his pipe smoke, far more agreeable than the Argossa's sooty belches.&nbsp; A comfortable aroma, one that made her think of Father, and home.&nbsp; Her smile gentled.<br><br>"In all your travels Atos, among all the tales and legends and myths you've no doubt heard along those long, long miles, how could you <em>not</em> know by now, there is always a kernel of some fundamental and eternal truth in each?"<br><br>Verity pushed off the precarious rail she'd been leaning against, one hand still wrapped about her metal tea cup, the other holding up the wrist that still bore the strings of her satchel, the revolver and that precious fragment of parchment.&nbsp; "Do you read Greek, Atos?"&nbsp; Her head tilted just so as she studied his face for a moment.&nbsp; "You seem a well-traveled man, and it'd be unwise to make assumptions, I would imagine, regarding your education... "<br><br>"And the tale you so generously shared with such style?&nbsp; There are pieces - enchanting, intriguing parts - that mesh so beautifully with the fragments there."&nbsp; Verity shrugged her shoulders, as if helpless to avoid the obvious.&nbsp; "I would be glad to show you, when we finally stop for the night.&nbsp; I don't think our river barge is quite the place for that at the moment... "<br><br>"But for Shambhala?&nbsp; This is what I do, Atos - and I've been known to do it well, in my time."&nbsp; The satchel dropped back to her side, and with it her most precious treasure.&nbsp; "I take the pieces, the clues that are left behind, the tales and the legends, and I search for that kernel of truth behind them.&nbsp; Sanar, your warrior-king.&nbsp; A great city in the mountains, predating most any of man's known, great civilizations... "&nbsp; Her voice trailed off wistfully, her expression almost dreamy and far away.&nbsp; <br><br>"I don't know what I will find on the other side of that monastery, but if I ever doubted there was something to be found there?"&nbsp; Verity shook her head slowly.&nbsp; "Oh, I doubt it less and less, with every passing moment."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>15-05-2016, 02:33:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Greek? Yes, perhaps. I had a teacher in my youth who knew many languages and delighted in teaching them away to those who seemed to have the ear for it. So I can read a little of it, but it is a skill not often required of me." Mentally, Atos made a note to be cautious about showing too much of that skill before Verity. She would likely be able to judge the strength of it, considering her background. But then, what was he NOT to be cautious about with this particular lady?<br><br>"You know the tales of Shambhala well, then? Well... I am not the greatest of tale listeners, but I know the lands north of here well. If there was ever a city of gold I think it would have been plundered a long, long time ago. The law has been a temporary thing here; the plundering barbarian of one day upholding his own law the next, to become a hunted man again once his power slips." He paused, unsure of what to say. On one hand he wanted to lie, to protect his own vital interests, to discourage this woman and send her back to her own world to pursue other fancies. But then on the other hand... Atos hardly dared pursue that line of thought. When he had spoken of a long and lonely life, he had spoken the truth. "I will acknowledge though, that throughout the mountains and valleys there are many a ruin, of which the modern world probably know little if anything. Old forsaken places are plentiful here, the locals are hardly left with any memory of them and a collapsed brick building is merely a handy quarry. We will probably pass some of them on our way and can perhaps tarry if the journey's demands allow it." Yes, that was the ticket. Let her wear herself out moving stone rubble. It was what he told himself anyway.<br><br>A few hours passed. The river was as busy as any other main road. Newer steam boats and flat bottomed junks passed them in both directions, marginally less sedate than the Argossa, and a steady flow of small vessels took outrageous chances wherever there was water enough to part with a keel. The sun was sinking toward the western horizon as the Argossa puffed her way toward her quay place in the northern outskirts of Kalyani. The river continued, but this was almost as far as a steamer of her size could go - several smaller ships were busy here all day every day with digging away the ever accumulating sand banks. Indeed it would only take a few days of neglecting this duty before the quay would have become inaccessible. Many smaller vessels would be happy to take on the cargo and continue its transport north and northwest, everything from small steamers to actual rowboats, but for Verity and Atos and their train of beasts this was the end of the boat ride. <br><br>As they left the steamship and the dock hands and boat crew returned their steeds to their own care, Atos was rewarding each of their four legged companions with a sweet red apple bought on board. He was pleased that they all seemed calm and surefooted after the hours spent on the unpredictable river vessel. "Again, we are not venturing far. A sizeable hostel run by the Post Office and catering especially for the river travelers is only two minutes away. We should be able to find two rooms for us and stables for the steeds as well as there is no local festival happening right now so tonight you will get the chance to sleep in a proper bed. Unless we are unlucky enough to walk into a wedding, that is. Then all hope is forfeit." He stopped right in his tracks. "I will forget my clothes next. Watch over the animals for a minute, will you?" He dived into his saddle pack and retrieved a package. "A small duty that needs to be attended to." Walking down to the edge of the river, he knelt on both knees as he unwrapped the package. Inside the rice paper was a little boat made from reeds, with a little candle set in the middle. Atos lit the candle and sent the boat out into the darkening waters before dipping his hands into the water, then rose up holding his hands up from the elbows. His voice could be heard, barely. "...for a sea voyage without incident, I am thankful." Then he hurried back to Verity, smiling as if nothing had happened as he regained the reins. "As we were in luck with the tea, maybe we will be in luck for dinner Professor?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>20-05-2016, 05:08:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The curl of smoke twisted up and about, wrapping in great grey whorls about the thick tendrils of dark hair piled atop her head, only to disappear into the crude eaves of the hostel building.&nbsp; The sun had just begun to set, and Verity was sure that somewhere in this world, the sight was quite spectacular: golden and scarlet light pressing against the darkness and the grey shadows in slow, fading fingerlings of brilliance, the color of the day fading from the world, caged once more by the coming of the night.&nbsp; <br><br>But this evening, leaden monsoon season clouds still set heavy on the horizon, just past the thick, dark green tree canopy.&nbsp; The wan sunlight that filtered down to the hostel grounds was neither brilliant nor shining, a failing grey glow that only just illuminated the lands around them and the road that would be taking their small caravan-of-a-sort further north come the morning.<br><br>Atos and Verity had indeed found just that luck he spoke of when the disembarked the river barge:&nbsp; there was no wedding nor even a funeral, no Hindi religious holiday or so much as a birthday celebration to be found anywhere about the hostel!&nbsp; There was a stable of sorts for their horses and mules, consisting a crude lean-to type of shelter with a solid roof that would suffice for the night at least.&nbsp; There was dinner to be had as well, plentiful offerings of the local flat bread <em>chapati,</em> oil and herbs, a thick and nicely spiced <em>dal</em> and <em>lassi</em> offered up afterward to cool the palette.&nbsp; <br><br>Verity intended to take full advantage of the Postal Office next door as well.&nbsp; She nodded her head, lifting the hand-rolled cigarette to her lips once more. Yes, she should have plenty of time to pen another letter home, and see it on its way before they left in the morning.&nbsp; Heaven alone knew how many more chances might come along on Atos' northern route.&nbsp; <br><br>She picked away a small piece of tobacco from the tip of her tongue, flicking it to the ground with a small, resigned sigh.&nbsp; <em>Ah, Atos... </em><br><br>She shoved off the hostel wall, taking the very last drag of her cigarette before grinding out the burning tip between thumb and forefinger until it fell away on the still-damp ground.&nbsp; Soft plumes of smoke wafted from her nostrils as she walked across the small yard, in the direction of the stables.&nbsp; She knew very well there was no true need to see to the horses and the mules - Atos was as diligent in caring for each beast as if it were a brother or sister.&nbsp; But the eternally restless, infernally curious questioner paced relentlessly through her heart and mind, as willing to work the strange mystery of the man with whom she traveled, when left bereft of any more pieces of the puzzle of Shambhala to peruse.<br><br>So <em>very</em> many questions she wanted to ask him, though somehow, almost instinctively, Verity sensed Atos would thank her for none of them in the relatively close confines of the 'dinner crowd' of other hostelers.&nbsp; Not that the meal had been unpleasant, no, but the young woman's boundless curiosity was difficult to wrestle at times... <br><br>And so she walked beneath the stable lean-to, making her way to the spirited little Selene.&nbsp; Verity removed her gloves before letting her fingers run the length of the horse's thickly muscled neck, smiling softly as the horse's velvety muzzle turned toward her curiously.&nbsp; "No," Verity laughed, gently brushing the length of her muzzle with her fingertips, "I didn't bring apples.&nbsp; So sorry for the thoughtlessness, please forgive little lady.&nbsp; I'm not Atos... "<br><br>Verity's fingers reached for a nearby brush, sighing softly as she began to rub down the length of Selene's neck instead, hoping to make up for the disappointment of not being the bearer of sweet and tasty things.&nbsp; "Such a strange, <em>strange</em> man, don't you think?" she spoke softly, stepping in just a little closer as she started the decidedly familiar chore.&nbsp; <br><br>"I mean, what <em>was</em> that all about, sending off that little boat in the river?&nbsp; Some Pagan ritual no doubt, but none I know... And that it should be so important to him?&nbsp; What gods do you think he holds dear, Selene, that he should send thanks for safe passage?"&nbsp; No matter the words she spoke, nothing in the tone of Verity's voice seemed peevish or put out in the least, only curious.&nbsp; Wondering.<br><br>"He speaks of the river as if he's known these waterways for centuries, the mountains and trails, and the people he meets - Atos cannot have walked this world much more than three decades, but if I closed my eyes?&nbsp; Why, if I were blind?&nbsp; I'd imagine Methuseleh himself was my guide!"&nbsp; <br><br>"And the way he talks to <em>you,</em> Selene.&nbsp; You and our other horses, the mules - like you're friends!"&nbsp; She smiled slyly, only to lay a light, quick kiss on the horse's soft neck.&nbsp; <br><br>"I'd like to believe I can do the same, but you know something?" Verity whispered into the folded back ear of her mount, a sweet, silly little grin on her lips&nbsp; <em>"I really think it's a kind of magic... "</em><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>25-05-2016, 02:12:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"And here I thought I was the odd one for speaking with animals." A puff of smoke came from a bale of hay just inside the far door opening. Atos was using it as a very comfortable arm chair, watching what little remained of the sunset. "Sunset's very important you know. We used to call them the Daughters of the evening or the Nymphs Of The West, and the sunset itself was the glimpse we were afforded of the fair ladies taking their evening bath. I will admit that it is some time since I last heard a poet talk with a wine-sweetened tongue of the Hesperides. But it seems to me that every evening, they still take their bath. A gesture worthy of the old gods, don't you think?" He winked. "But as you said yourself, to every tale there might be a grain of truth." He glanced back at the horses and mules. "They are happy though, I am sure you too can sense that. Today was an easy day for them all."<br><br>Atos' voice was more relaxed than it had ever sounded this day, and there was a reason for it. He held up a large clear bottle whose contents were uncolored. "Desi Daru. A wonderful liquor whose like you cannot find outside this dark pungent country; strong as a warrior, sweet as a dancer, heady as a kiss... and heavy as midsummer rain on the head come the next morning. The kitchen staff sold me a couple; it is not always easy to find. Will you share some of this nectar with me while we wait for the day's end, Professor?" For the first time of the day the man took off the cloth encircling his head and neck, to reveal a mop of thick long blonde hair in which there probably was gray, but it could not be seen in the fair color or in the fading light. He let it shake loose like a dog, sending straw and stable dust everywhere. Outside, white clothed staff were walking about lighting the hanging oil lamps that would illuminate the evening. A couple of lamps were even hanging near the stable albeit at a certain safe distance, which was leaving Atos into deep shades but for the glow from his sizeable pipe.<br><br>He had enjoyed the dinner. Verity clearly knew her Indian menus and the Postal Office took imperial pride in displaying the local dishes in their best light. And knowing that it might be a while until they could have such a feast again, he had made sure to sample everything. But it wasn't only the food, and the friendly staff. Discreetly he had also allowed himself to quietly study his feisty traveling companion as she unconsciously dominated the occasion with her endless chatter and the attention she spent on everyone but herself. Atos could only wonder how she had not been snagged by someone looking for the perfect housekeeper or a trophy to adorn the family line with. Or to keep in a gilded cage, treasured and locked away. Maybe that was the truth of it; that she was a traveler in order to avoid becoming any of those things? As for himself, he had kept himself in the background and made sure to laugh neither too much nor too little. It was fortunate that there were few other westerner travelers here tonight or surely they would have made efforts to talk - at least with her, whose upper class was very obvious in this place. And for now he really did not wish to deal with more inquisitive questions. Most of the other guests for the night were natives to this country, mid to somewhat upper class, and traveled in groups with servants of their own, and they would not want to lose face over a couple of westerners barging in on their talks. Atos knew this because he could speak Hindi well and overheard some of their comments, which he chose to seem ignorant to. But there was something or someone else in the dinner that was preying on his mind, an attention that seemed less amused and more intent. Military spies? Potential robbers? The further their little caravan were venturing, the closer they would get to those who did not feel obliged by Colonial law. But after a while it passed, to remain just another little nagging thought in his mind. He had slipped outside as soon as Verity had gone on to her own errands, to enjoy the quiet and the sunset - such as it was. Tomorrow would be a rainy day for sure.<br><br>Atos took another sip from his bottle. Not very gentleman like - but that was one thing he had never said he was. "Tomorrow we will be proper journeyers. The comforts of this modern civilization will soon be behind us, and the spirit of these farmlands and their customs will be all around us. You should dress accordingly" - he smiled at the thought - " and before the next nightfall you will be a part of it in a way, I think, no London professor will be accustomed to. Come, come!" He gestured to the other hay bale beside him. "And since you are so eager, I will tell you another tale of Shambhala. But this time, I will make it a trade." He pursed his lips, the possibilities tantalizing. "Let's say that if you think the story is worth it, you will be making tomorrow's dinner." Atos did not add that this was a bet she probably could not lose - for all the time he had had to learn it, Atos still was not much of a cook.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>28-05-2016, 08:48:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Verity gasped, dark eyes wide as she whirled about, mouth agape as she simply <em>stood</em> there for a moment, still and dumbstruck with a horse brush dangling uselessly in her fingers.&nbsp; Perhaps she did have a kind of magic of her own, that she should conjure the man from thin air by simply mentioning his name!&nbsp; <br><br>A thought that, of course, was absolutely ridiculous - or at least as ridiculous as she must look right now:&nbsp; mouth hanging open like a gawping fish just yanked from the water,&nbsp; blushing the mortified flush of the 'just caught' right to the very roots of her hair.&nbsp; Had Atos been sitting there the whole time!?&nbsp; Verity groaned softly under her breath.&nbsp; Of course he had!&nbsp; He looked far too comfortable to simply have slipped in behind her - <em>no one</em> could be that stealthy!<br><br>Somehow, Verity avoided the sudden, nigh overwhelming urge to bury her face in her hands, her brain scrambling instead for that time-tested fall-back of desperate prayer.&nbsp; <em>Dear God, just... Just be merciful.&nbsp; </em>Please<em> be merciful, and let him have had enough of the </em>desi daru<em> already, to make those musings far more like mumblings... </em><br><br>"Well I'm only practicing, as <em>you</em> suggested," Verity offered up with a nervous smile and a valiant attempt at flippancy.&nbsp; "Talking to animals, I mean."&nbsp; At first glance, it didn't seem Atos had heard much, if anything - or if he had?&nbsp; There'd been nothing in her words that seemed to vex him.&nbsp; Verity took another breath, this time just a little easier as she lay the horse brush down on a nearby beam.&nbsp; She turned to peer over her shoulder, regarding their small equine crew but with Atos' eyes now.&nbsp; The anxiety in her sweet smile eased by several degrees as she savored the peace of the animals, the soft rhythmic snuffling and huffs of their breaths, the air redolent with the sweet scent of fresh hay and the warm musk of horse flesh.&nbsp; "But yes, they <em>are</em> happy, aren't they?"<br><br>Verity laughed softly, shrugging her shoulders lightly in response to his invitation, lifting her skirts just so in her hands as she made her way to Atos' perch on the hay.&nbsp; She was discovering she rather liked him like this, her new-made companion:&nbsp; grinning, relaxed and talkative with that pipe smoke curling about him, a scent that was slowly becoming familiar and, oddly enough, even comforting.&nbsp; He painted entire vistas with his words, great sweeping worlds that unfurled like banners through her already vast imagination, coalescing into the loveliest of images.&nbsp; Perhaps it was unwise to trust this man as she did already, making him her sole travel companion (but for the beloved horses and mules) without taking the least chance for anything like proper reflection.&nbsp; Most certainly her parents - already mostly inured to Verity's wild, intractable ways - would be horrified by her recklessness now (certain aspects of which she would most judiciously leave unmentioned in her letters).&nbsp; Atos certainly traveled well-armed, and she did not doubt he could use both newly-purchased revolver and that wickedly curved <em>kukri</em> with equal and lethal ease.<br><br>Yet even cloaked in the shadows of the coming evening, Verity could not find it in her to fear the man.&nbsp; Not even a little.&nbsp; How <em>odd...</em> <br><br>She climbed up on the hay bale beside Atos, the one he was using as an arm rest for the hand wrapped about the bottle.&nbsp; Her legs outstretched, one booted foot crossed lightly over the other, Verity leaned over to take up the offered liquor in one hand.&nbsp; Nothing in her expression registered either surprise or concern that he'd offered no separate cups for them, much less to wipe off the bottle's mouth with his sleeve at the very least.&nbsp; "Desi daru?" She lifted it to her nose, sniffing at it delicately - and then chuckling warmly with an appreciative lift of her brows.&nbsp; "Whew!&nbsp; 'Strong as a warrior,sweet as a dancer and... Heady as a kiss,' was it?"&nbsp; Verity winked at Atos, and took a healthy swig for herself.<br><br><em>Oh</em> how it burned going down, just as she knew it would!&nbsp; But the sweetness cut through the bite, dousing the liquor's fire on her tongue.&nbsp; There'd been no false advertising in his description of <em>desi daru</em>!&nbsp; She handed the bottle back to Atos, wiping at her lips with the back of her sleeve before propping her arm up on the bale that was serving as his headrest.&nbsp; Her cheek rested on that arm as her gaze turned from the top of his golden, shaggy mop of hair to the remains of the sun setting just beyond.&nbsp; <br><br>"I should like to see a nymph, though perhaps not for the same reasons as you might," she laughed gently.&nbsp; "I grew up on legends, myths, fairy tales... Father read me those tales every day, even after I could read them for myself."&nbsp; The <em>desi daru</em> was settling well and warm in her belly, heating her innards quite nicely already.&nbsp; "The written word is lovely, true.&nbsp; But there is <em>something</em> about a tale told, narrated from mouth to ear, that will never lose its charm.&nbsp; It's... <em>potency.</em>"<br><br>Almost absently, and apparently without a care in the world for stable dust or straw, the long, elegant fingers of the hand she'd propped on the back of the hay bale began to gently smooth those wild blonde tresses.&nbsp; Unhurriedly, her fingers curled tenderly but surely through his hair, as if she'd a mind to tame it all back into some semblance of good order.&nbsp; Verity laughed once more.&nbsp; "And yes, that kernel of truth.&nbsp; Don't you worry about me Atos.&nbsp; I'll dress tomorrow with an eye toward all the good common sense Mother ever tried to impart.&nbsp; I've trekked the world, from Brazilian jungles to the Sinai desert - and a stunning fashion sense had precious little to do with any of it."<br><br>She held out the free hand that'd been resting on her thigh, silently asking for another pull of the bottle of <em>desi daru.</em>&nbsp; Somehow, Verity doubted Atos would mind all <em>that</em> much.&nbsp; "And we bargain for tales now, do we?&nbsp; Fair enough Atos, fair enough.&nbsp; <em>Yes.</em>&nbsp; Please, do tell me another tale of Shambhala, and if it's worthy?"&nbsp; <br><br>An impish little grin lit her face.&nbsp; "Well, suffice it to say if you've flour and olive oil, water and just a pinch of salt?&nbsp; I can make a camp flat bread you will delight wrapping about a couple scrambled eggs.&nbsp; Give me some wild scallions and fresh herbs?&nbsp; Or even a fresh-caught fish or two?&nbsp; And you'll swear you're eating like a <em>king</em> of Shambhala."<br><br>"Ah, but why stop there?&nbsp; You've found my weakness Atos - far too easily, I fear.&nbsp; And yet I do believe - unless I've missed the mark entirely - that you've just shown me the <em>tiniest</em> chink in your own armor.&nbsp; Tell me about <em>your</em> home Atos, where you come from, where you grew up - and why setting that little boat sailing on the river meant so much to you?&nbsp; Tell me those tales, and you <em>may</em> even find yourself with a true, Verity-made breakfast as well the following morning."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>01-06-2016, 02:37:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Both of Atos' eyebrows went up when he felt Verity's fingers in his hair. He was long unaccustomed now to being touched in that way. "Careful you don't get caught; that's some thick grass up there. Everything on me, it grows so fast. Must be the season, yes?" But he said it with a grin. Then he took a healthy swig of the bottle and passed it back, laughing at her menu suggestion. "Oh Miss Prentiss, if you had any idea of what the King of Shambhala likes to-" and then he held his tongue. "But it seems like a feast as good as what we had tonight, to me. I must work hard to earn it then!" Then she continued with her questions and Atos lifted his hands on abject surrender. "I swear. When I give you a little finger, you ask for the whole hand. They must love your bartering style in the bazaars. Do you walk in there with a single paisa and leave with a piglet, two blankets and a brace of pheasants? He nodded to her anyway. "Very well. I shall tell you tales. But now in addition you shall have to release your own hair and you will allow me to comb it." He winked. "Perhaps it is needed?"<br><br>Then Atos refilled his pipe, and fell quiet for a bit. It was long enough for the last of the sun's disc to vanish under the horizon. The Hesperides had finished their evening bath, and the first of the night insects started droning toward the deadly lamp light. Finally, when his pipe was starting to mimic the SS Argossa he was ready to start, and his eyes were far away as he spoke "I was born a long time ago, a long time from here. It was a fisherman village, we called it Nasos then, on a rugged coast where the fearful seaman would return home with no catch and the overly brave would not return at all. But the fishermen knew the ways of the sea and we had enough to eat. Still the old ones had a greater fear; once a year the soldiers would come passing by and those boys who already were tired of the fisherman's simple life would go with them, rarely to come back and if they did, as weary old men with many scars. But oh as we loved to sit in the sand by the fire in the late evenings and hear them tell of far away places, of men with fire in their eyes, of beautiful foreign women and of wondrous beasts. I was easy to pick up when the soldiers came and I was old enough to decide myself that I could go!" He took back the bottle of Desi Deru and had a long swig before returning it. "Do I regret leaving my village? Maybe, maybe not. I know that if I returned now, there would be none left of those I once knew and my father's fishing boat would be long gone. And I have seen beautiful foreign women" - he winked to Verity - "and wondrous beasts, indeed." But his voice took on an undertone of sorrow too. "But in a little corner of my heart, I wish I had never left to see the world and instead spent my life mending fishing nets and sit in the sand by the fire with Niko, Alyosha and Uday listening to old men's fanciful tales. Nasos was a good place to be young of body and mind, and I will always remember it so." And for a little while, Atos fell silent again.<br><br>"The little boat... yes. India is a good place and it was so even before you English ones came with your cannons and your empire." Getting a little tipsy by now Atos made a comical gunfire gesture with his hands. "Boom!" He nodded energetically. "And they have all these good foods and spices, and all this good liquid, and a thousand languages, and a tolerance for other people's faiths that is downright astounding. And among all these Hindus and Buddhists, and Christians and Muslims, you have some faiths so obscure that your fine language have no words for them, some of which are very old. Like mine, which I inherited from my family back in that old place. I will not tell you all about it tonight, some things should not mix with Desi Deru, and old religions are one of them, but I can tell you this. When our little boats of old timbers when out, they always went out on a prayer - both by the ones setting out, and by the ones who had to wait on the shore. But we knew that what the gods wanted to happen, would happen regardless. So when the boats DID return it always seemed proper to show our thankfulness to their kindness, and maybe then they would remember it the next morning when the boats would go out again. Even now many years later, I still follow that custom even if it is not known to anyone else."<br><br>Atos took the bottle and took another long swig, sitting down again with some difficulty. "This stuff really is potent, isn't it. What were we talking about again?" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>04-06-2016, 07:53:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Verity snorted a laugh, knuckles to her mouth [too late] to keep the hilariously unlady-like guffaw from escaping.&nbsp; A shaggy, lightly-inebriated Atos was an <em>eminently</em> amusing sight.&nbsp; <em>"Shambhala."</em>&nbsp; Verity sat up a bit straighter as Atos told his stories, and now she pulled both her legs beneath, crossing them where she sat.&nbsp; Her feet tucked beneath her, the lengths of Verity's skirt pooled all about her, draping over the hay bale.<br><br>"We were talking of Shambhala - or at least, you were going to tell me another tale of the place you think me mad or ridiculous to search for.&nbsp; In a nutshell, you've earned your breakfast, but not dinner tomorrow - not <em>yet</em> at least... "&nbsp; Her hand fell from her mouth, traveling back up to her hair with the other.&nbsp; Verity sighed contentedly as a self-satisfied cat as she gave her scalp a delicious, two-handed scratch.&nbsp; Since the mortifying realization the <em>desi deru</em> snuck up on her and ambushed all good common sense, and she'd been caught stroking Atos' feral blonde mane into some semblance of order?&nbsp; Verity decided to be a good sport, and take him up on <em>his</em> offer (though not the one so subtly hinted, concerning all the bits and parts of the man that 'grow so fast!')<br><br>No matter how Atos might tease about her chatter, she was as silent as could be as he lovingly unraveled the tale of his home, of his childhood and the days that brought him from the coasts of Nasos.&nbsp; A certain little voice whispered in the back of her thoughts, that somehow, some way, this place sounded oddly... <em>Familiar</em>.&nbsp; As if she, of all people, should recognize this remote fishing village of Atos' - but no.&nbsp; <em>'No,'</em> whispered the liquor warming her belly, widening her grin and making her head feel pleasantly lighter by the moment.&nbsp; <em>'No, just listen.&nbsp; Enjoy.&nbsp; And isn't his voice surprisingly lovely - <strong>why</strong> can't I place that accent already!?&nbsp; Bah... No matter.&nbsp; You can't possibly know Nasos either, but there's a story here with the man who peeps on nymphs at their bath and listens to the tales of old men and soldiers alike.'</em><br><br>And so between swigs of the <em>desi deru</em> as the bottle passed amiably between them, Verity began to remove the pins and combs that held her dark, thick hair in place, laying them lightly to the side.&nbsp; She learned the names of Atos' childhood friends, and smiled to think of the sea he so obviously loved - as did she, though she'd not interrupt his tale to say as much, no matter how he teased she might walk away with a piglet, two blankets and a brace of pheasants.&nbsp; She rolled her eyes good-naturedly when he called her a 'beautiful foreign woman,' and all the while her agile fingers ran through the lengths of her own hair this time, undoing the braids, loosening the long tendrils of hair, setting those dark waves free to flow long past her shoulders, to her waist and down the middle of her back.<br><br>Verity rocked on her bottom, uncrossing her legs to stretch them out before her before shoving herself up and off the hay bale.&nbsp; 'Graceful' might not have been the most precise word to describe her landing, but she stayed upright nonetheless, moving to stand right before Atos.&nbsp; <br><br>"Mmm... You're <em>so</em> right - this stuff is the <em>definition</em> of potent!"&nbsp; As if to prove her point - and if Atos listened <em>just</em> close enough?&nbsp; He might hear the soft slur just beginning to take up residence in her words.&nbsp; Verity shoved her knee between Atos', gently nudging first one of his knees, and then the other apart wide.&nbsp; "Oh, and for all the 'boom' the English brought, I don't know I'd wax so romantically about all that is Indian.&nbsp; After all, 'we English' didn't bring them <em>sati</em>, or the caste system... "<br><br>As she spoke, she turned around in that little alcove she'd made of Atos' legs, right where he sat.&nbsp; Laying one hand lightly on one of his knees, she lowered herself to sit on the floor.&nbsp; Settling herself in easily, Verity began to pull the lengths of all that hair up in her hands.&nbsp; "... But that's probably a conversation for another time, when we can speak of old gods and <em>desi deru</em> isn't involved.&nbsp; For tonight?&nbsp; I'd settle for an honest answer, on just how old you <em>really</em> are... "<br><br>"And of course, that second tale of Shambhala you promised."&nbsp; Verity laughed softly, lifting her hands just so to let that dark cascade of hair fan out over his lap.&nbsp; "All right, there you go Atos - fair is fair."&nbsp; She nodded toward the hay bale perch she'd just lighted from, where she'd left her hair accoutrements.&nbsp; "A comb for you, good sir, and uh... "&nbsp; <br><br>She laughed again, low and soft as she began to pull open her own small bag, fishing out rolling papers and a small pouch of tobacco.&nbsp; "Comb, not kukri, Atos.&nbsp; Remember, comb, not kukri.&nbsp; <em>Please.</em>"<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>05-06-2016, 23:34:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atos gasped in inebriated but feigned shock, both at the ease with which the professor was putting her dainty butt between his leg and at her suggestion. "Inconceivable! A kukri is never pulled out of its sheath but to draw blood, and it can not be sheathed again until it has done so. Although I grant you, some hairdressers in the past have managed to draw my blood with their scissors. " Then he laughed, and grinned. "That's rubbish actually. The kukri is a tool and has a hundred uses, of which fighting is only one. But I will grant you, it does so extremely well." He looked at her speculatively. "There is another tale of it though, that is rather too intimate for two mere fellow travelers to share. But probably a learned professor as you has heard it a long time ago anyway. Oh well." He had another long sip of Desi Deru, and could feel it right down in his boots. "Ai ai ai..."<br><br>"How old I am? Now what kind of question is that; would I not earn a slap if I asked a lady of such a thing?" He sighed. "To tell you the absolutely honest truth, I do not know. Somewhere in between all those journeys I stopped counting winters, and the winters sort of stopped counting me... my heart is younger than my years and my soul is older than my body, how is that for a riddle? Whatever the true count is, I suspect I have been treated kindly by Old Father Time. Maybe it is something in the water... As they said in my homeland of my youth, a man dies when the gods decides that he has lived long enough. Of course they also say that a man is not allowed to die before he has fulfilled his tasks among the living. And sometimes, sometimes I really wonder who 'they' were and how much they really knew come down to it." Atos winked to Verity as he wielded the comb inexpertly - not to mention unsteadily - into the mass of hair that she had released. "I can understand why you keep all this hair hidden normally. There must be a lot of small birds trying to nest in here when or if they get the chance!" A chance tug and he lifted a hand apologetically. "Sorry about that. I know this though; I have traveled many places through my years; more than most men were ever granted. Of course, wars can do that to a man, and some times he sees less in a lifetime than someone who stayed in one place alone and truly saw that place. Perhaps I was granted the chance to do both."<br><br>By now he was slowly making Verity's hair an even bigger mess, but in truth he was just content with running his fingers through it. An old, old habit learned from a lover a long long time ago, and secretly he was astounded that Verity had allowed him to cross this bridge of intimacy. What a blessing Desi Deru could be, although he knew full well how it would turn into a curse come morning. But what morning does not bring the possibility of sorrows?<br><br>"Sati..." Atos made a grimace. "It is true, there were and are still some horrors to be found in this country, for all its greatness. But one does not speak ill of the host and we are both happy to be the guests of these lands, are we not?" He nodded emphatically, almost fell over where he sat, and grunted as he found fresh leverage - which he discovered a little late was Veritys upper arm. "Ooops. My, my apologies." He drew in air and attempted to think. What was he doing... right. "Shambhala... another story. Now how was this one again, I do not recall where I heard if, or if I ever told it. Shambhala... ah yes."<br><br>"This story is called the Five Gates Of Shambhala. See, that wondrous city would not have stood one week without some pretty good defenses - nothing spreads around like rumors of gold, yesh?" Atos was slurring heavily now, the firey liquid getting ever deeper on his mind. "Sssooo... if you wanted to pay a visit, there were a whole slew of ob, obstacles to deal with. Without the help of a Gatekeeper you was pretty, pretty erotas. Yes. In fact there were five of the damn things, the gates, and even if you knew where they even WERE they still were a handful. If Saner had come with an whole army he'd never gotten further than the first one. See," he lifted up an admonishing but unsteady finger, "the first gate of Shambhala, the Gate of Air, was very impressive, and it would take lots of resources to get by it by force. But it really was just a way for the Shambhalans to manoevre u- the invaders into a sweet spot of their choosing. Which would be gate number two, the Gate of Fire. Keep in mind that traders and such would simply wait outside First Gate and meet the officials of Shambhala there; actual visitors to Shambhala were very few in nummmber. Then the third gate, the Gate of Earth, which could swallow up anyone who made it that far unwanted. Then the cleansing of the Gate of Water, and finally the Gate of Spirit which.... which...." Atos patted Verity's hair. "Oh, I can't think any more. I am hungry. Would you like some food, British filly?" From his deep pockets came a couple of apples and then a somewhat squished quarter loaf of a bread. "Can't have Desi Deru without some food. Gotta douse the fire a little...."&nbsp; &nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>15-06-2016, 16:51:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Verity settled into the perch between Atos' legs with a <em>desi deru</em>-inspired ease she just might regret in the morning.&nbsp; But since morning light was still several hours away yet?&nbsp; She snuggled quite comfortably right there, running her fingers along her scalp a few times to let the thick lengths of her dark hair fan out all the better across his lap, and allowing Atos even greater access for his well-intentioned (if inexpert and slightly clumsy) ministrations.&nbsp; Was he actually combing her hair?&nbsp; Verity wasn't entirely sure, but the slow run of his fingers was rather nice, relaxing even - and since laying her hair at his mercy been part of Atos' conditions anyway?&nbsp; She might as well just let the man have at it for so long as the <em>desi deru</em> reigned king... <br><br>"Hmmph.&nbsp; I did not take you for a delicate flower Atos, burdened with such tender sensibilities," Verity huffed with a grin.&nbsp; She pulled a box of matches from her small satchel, preparing to strike up the cigarette she'd just rolled, left perched between her lips.&nbsp; "So do you plan to smack me across the face for my impertinence, or can we call us even since you <em>still</em> didn't answer my question with a proper number?"&nbsp; <br><br>Verity struck the match, the distinctive scent of sulfur flaring up with the warm orange glow.&nbsp; The flame brightened once, and then again, as she lit her cigarette in the mostly-dark of the stable.&nbsp; "But keep your mystery, Atos," she quipped with a flippant wave of her hand, smoke curling in wreaths above her head, rising to the rafters.&nbsp; "You're all but steeped in it, you know.&nbsp; It's actually quite becoming... "&nbsp; What harm a little compliment now, after inquiring so indelicately about his age?&nbsp; She took a drag, a lop-sided, tipsy little grin wrapped around her cigarette as she considered the too-intimate-tale of the kukri.&nbsp; Intimations of dagger and sheath, no doubt - but no matter.&nbsp; It seemed Atos was well on his way to wondrously sloshed.&nbsp; Verity could always wheedle it out of him later.&nbsp; <br><br>She winced, just a little, when he tugged on her hair a touch too clumsily.&nbsp; But Verity stilled immediately, holding her very breath as Atos began to unravel the tale of Shambhala's Five Gates.&nbsp; She desperately wished she had some paper and pen and ink on hand, but who in the world goes to a stable with writing supplies?&nbsp; All Verity could do for now was memorize the gates as Atos revealed them:&nbsp; the Gate of Air, and then Fire; of Earth and Water, and then that most mysterious Gate of Spirit... <br><br>Frustrating man that he was though, Atos would only give her just so much before declaring himself famished.&nbsp; She stubbed out her cigarette quite thoroughly in the hard-packed ground with a slightly vexed little sigh.&nbsp; 'Slightly' vexed, because she <em>would</em> eventually wheedle all the rest out of the man - the road to the monastery was long, and just might be full of silences in desperate need of filling.&nbsp; <br><br>"British filly is it?" She let her head fall back, lying lightly now along the crease of Atos' lap.&nbsp; Verity peered up to him - all upside down - with those mischievous dark eyes, weighing the snack options he offered.&nbsp; The squashed bread wasn't looking particularly appealing, though one of those apples would do nicely.&nbsp; "And you feed me like one too."&nbsp; She reached back over her head to take the smallest of the two before letting her head fall forward again.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>Verity took a generous bite of her apple, humming contentedly as she chewed.&nbsp; Tasty, crisp, sweet with just the perfect hint of tart - perfect really.&nbsp; "Does this mean you like me at least as much as one of the horses or mules <em>already,</em> Atos?"&nbsp; She shrugged her shoulders daintily.&nbsp; If he listened close enough, he just might hear the smile in her subtly slurred words.&nbsp; "I believe we're making progress.&nbsp; You've bothered to remember my name, and now?&nbsp; Now it seems I rate as good as one of our mounts in your eyes, or at least one of the pack animals.&nbsp; I will count myself fortunate... "<br><br>"And I believe your sudden inability to think might be a sign... "&nbsp; She began to push herself up off her bottom, using Atos' calves and knees to balance her as she stood.&nbsp; Once on her feet, Verity turned about in a pretty whirlwind of long, loose hair and only slightly muddied skirts.&nbsp; <br><br>"You, good sir, need to be abed methinks.&nbsp; I suspect the <em>desi deru</em> has her bite deep in you, and I shan't be able to carry you to your rest, all on my own."&nbsp; She nodded her head resolutely, arms crossed over her chest with a self-confident certainty and an apparent disregard for the rather profound slur lacing her own words.&nbsp; "No more than I'll leave you to sleep in the hay while we still have beds waiting within."&nbsp; Verity winked saucily at Atos, gathering up combs and hair pins, tucking them all back into her pouch quickly.<br><br>"Up you go then.&nbsp; Come along now... "&nbsp; She bit into the unbitten side of her apple, holding it carefully in her teeth (and effectively gagging herself) as she leaned over Atos, both her hands reaching to wrap about his wrists to give a gentle tug upward.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 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&nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>21-06-2016, 14:19:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atos willingly let himself be pulled up, putting the now empty pipe in one his many pockets. "Now wait just a moment, Englishwoman! This night is not done for yet." He looked around quickly and pointed a thick finger at a young boy who had been sitting not far away finishing his bowl of soup. Now Atos was talking in fluent hindi and a paisa coin was playing between his fingers. "Hey you, you princeling... I have a little job for you." Half a minute later the boy was sitting with great solemnity clapping his hands slowly together. "We have Desi Deru! We have music! Now we must dance; the gods bid us to enjoy life while we can!" As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Atos moved his arm down to Veritys waist and pulled her closer to his side. "Now this is an old dance and not of this country, but it is not very difficult. Let me show you... something we used to call sirtaikha in the village of my childhood." With his free left hand he started to snap his fingers while smiling at the boy, indicating how to adjust the speed. Soon, other children were coming near to watch the spectacle as well. But now Atos smiling, if rather inebriated face was shining red at Verity again. "See? It is all just left foot like this, right foot like this then left again, pam pam Pam, then back the other way pam pam Pam. Opa! Then sideway, two steps to the left and Opa, then two steps to the right. Opa! And we go again! And again!" The happiness in Atos' face was almost palpable. "Dance, Professor! Live!" From a certain distance they might possbly be mistaken for a couple of headless chicken in the yard, but joy works like that. Especially when it is drunken.<br><br>Finally Atos relented, when the 'music' had slowly wound itself up to the point where they were just whirling around and the boy and his friend were laughing hysterically, and momentum sunk back in so hard that he had to steady himself against the wall. He let go of Verity's waist and patted her cheek with a rough finger. "NOW Miss Prentiss, we have earned ourselves sleep in soft beds. Sleep well Englishwoman. Today, Atos The Traveler have had a good day. May tomorrow bring clear skies and clear heads - but do not hope for too much. Desi Deru has a habit of... lingering. " With that, the man without age headed toward the men's sleeping quarters.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>26-06-2016, 17:12:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>Lingering...</em> <br><br>Good, sweet holy heaven, did the <em>desi deru</em> ever linger, the cruel, relentless throbbing in Verity's head beating in time with her traitorous heart.&nbsp; Morning birdsong turned shrill, and that miraculously unclouded sky burned unkindly into her poor eyes, glaringly bright and garishly vibrant.&nbsp; All she truly wanted was to crawl right back under the blanketed shadow of her bed, replete as it was with its thin mattress and thinner pillow, but the hostel was already stirring with the bustle of morning activity.&nbsp; She could no more pull the coverlet up over her head and fall back to a deep black and oblivious sleep, than she could recall whatever insane impulse it was, that made her take that first drink of that evil, absolutely vile fluid.<br><br>The filling dinner and Atos' apple dessert hadn't been quite enough to buffer Verity's brain from the insidious alcoholic claws of the native drink.&nbsp; Heaven knew she should consider herself fortunate the meal stayed in her belly, right where it ought!&nbsp; Breakfast this morning was quite out of the question, no matter the generous offerings of the hostel owners.&nbsp; Verity needed some willow extract and cool water - and lots of it.&nbsp; And Atos would simply have to abide a few more frequent stops along this morning's path than he intended... <br><br><em>'But at least there'd been dancing.'</em>&nbsp; Verity smiled for the first time this morning, perched at the edge of her bed as she laced up her boots - the sturdy, boy-sized boots Atos purchased for her only just yesterday.&nbsp; Yes, there'd been dancing - and laughter too.&nbsp; God, but the man's laughter was as easy and warm as he seemed, wasn't it?&nbsp; He might not be much of a hair dresser, as the tricky job of unknotting his 'handiwork' had taken far longer and several painful tugs could attest, but the man could certainly dance - and oh how he could laugh!&nbsp; And so Verity had danced too, and she had lived just as he commanded, and any regret for whatever drink-fueled 'friendliness' might have taken her would fade with her headache, some time in the early afternoon or so.<br><br>Not entirely sure how much headway from civilization they might yet make, Verity opted for a scandal-free dress of simple, pale green muslin, sturdy and practical, and utterly unremarkable but for the woman who wore it.&nbsp; She shoved herself up off the edge of her borrowed bed, gathering her things as swiftly as she might (at a decidedly lesser pace than most mornings, but at a fair clip nonetheless), and made for the stables once more.&nbsp; Atos was likely well ahead of her in the matter of their mounts, their pack animals and their possessions, and Verity felt a twinge of guilt for that.&nbsp; <br><br><em>'But it's his fault he introduced me to that devil water,'</em> her thoughts reasoned peevishly.&nbsp; She groaned deep in her throat, one gloved hand raised over her eyes, shielding them from the assault of the morning sun.&nbsp; The shape near the horses and the stable took on a vaguely human form that, she guessed, could only be Atos.&nbsp; Probably.&nbsp; Most likely...<br><br>"Don't even <em>smile</em> at me right now, Atos.&nbsp; I'm rethinking my opinion of your judgment, <em>and</em> mine, and that grin of yours is far too bright."&nbsp; She narrowed her eyes in his direction and stuck out her tongue, an act both petulant and about as mature as she was feeling at the moment.&nbsp; "It hurts my head."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>04-07-2016, 02:12:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Then Desi Deru has left its mark on you, as it has on many. One more indelible memory of India - that is, if it sticks in the first place!" Atos' voice held a forgiving chuckle, and strangely little of said alcohol. "One learns to cope with it over time though." The most visible change from last night was that his blue eyes seemed to shimmer stronger than the day before. He was smoking his pipe, looking searchingly into the dark skies overhead. "The impeccable timing of a British lady, I assume? But the skies are late out of their beds today too. We best make use of the delay while it lasts. Our beasts have had their burdens loaded on and we are ready to leave." Beside him stood the train of horses as mules as the day before, with Erebus and Selene making the vanguard. He secured his pipe in a button hole on his jacket then took hold of the tack and swung himself with ease into the leather saddle. <br><br>Atos was back in his worn old traveling garbs, but no longer was he seeking to conceal the weapons he was carrying in his belt. The kukri was now easily accessible to his right hand, and the newly acquired revolver was available too from its place inside his heavy shirt- but at the front of his saddle were hanging a brace of different weapons. The size of large revolvers perhaps, but the double triggers revealed what they were to any experienced eyes. Howdahs guns; double barreled pistols popular in India as the weapon of choice in case a tiger hunter, seemingly safe on top of his elephant, suddenly became the prey when the tiger jumped up with him. The almost blank polished, worn grips told of long service indeed.<br><br>Atos looked down at his companion and smiled faintly. "We will need to make some speed before this rain comes down, but when it does we might have to call it a day - I can hear thunder singing far away, and if I am not mistaken there is lightning on the way as well. The gods will be doing a little bit of festivities by themselves tonight, I reckon. From here it is farmland for a while, and we will be seeing fewer settlements - in fact I mean to pass most of them by; they have no trade for the likes of me. Say, it does look like you are a bit under the weather. Would you like a hair of the dog that bit you, to ease the morning a bit?" He opened the saddle knapsack and pulled out the half full bottle of Desi Deru, then offered it to her. "Or maybe you rather would like a bit of salty dried meat?"<br><br>At some distance, an Indian boy was watching them while sitting leaned toward a fence. He was chewing on a straw and was playing a half paisa between his brown fingers, but was otherwise very quiet. And observing Verity and Atos and their train very acutely, memorizing every detail for his report later. For a 13 year old, he was doing very well in his new trade.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>11-07-2016, 01:58:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				This one morning, Verity might be excused for not noticing the young pair of too-intent eyes, watching them from his covert vantage just beyond a fence post.&nbsp; In truth, it wasn't as if Verity had any reason for vigilance on any given day anyway - nothing she normally earned the ire or jealousy or covetousness or notice of anyone but a few office-bound scholars back in London or Paris or the Colonies anyway.<br><br>But this morning <em>especially</em>?&nbsp; <br><br>Verity cringed, one dark eye closed in a lop-sided little grimace as Atos' unjustly <em>desi daru</em>-free, unfailingly cheerful voice washed over her at a volume that was, quite frankly, just <em>unkind.</em>&nbsp; "Oh I'll not forget the <em>desi daru,</em> Atos," she mumbled, rubbing her temples with her fingertips as she walked to Serena, the sweet-natured little horse already saddled and readied, just as her guide had promised.&nbsp; <br><br>"But definitely not as... <em>unf</em>... "&nbsp; Verity's left leg in the stirrup, she threw her right up over Serena's back with a grunt of pain and a little grimace, sidesaddle riding today be damned.&nbsp; "Not as one of the very best memories of India, I assure you."&nbsp; She settled her pale green skirts about her legs with a fair degree of modesty, taking up the waiting reins laid over the horse's withers.&nbsp; She wheeled Serena about, her eyes just falling over the strange brace of large pistols laying over the front of his own mount's withers.&nbsp; Her brow furrowed - not with concern though, strangely enough, but only with curiosity.&nbsp; She opened her mouth to ask about them, at just the very moment Atos offered up the dubious 'mercy,' the hair of the dog that bit her.<br><br>"Oh heavens above have mercy, Atos!"&nbsp; One hand still held the reins as the other lifted to her poor, throbbing head.&nbsp; "The hair of the dog, or salty dried meat?&nbsp; Tell me - have you and the Marquis de Sade ever been on friendly terms?"&nbsp; And that was when Verity began to laugh, no matter how badly it hurt with every least rise and fall of her chest or incredulous shake of her head.&nbsp; She could hear the plaintive, childish whine in her own voice, and at least had the grace to realize she was acting the grouchy, intractable ingrate today - most especially considering all Atos had to do entirely on his own this morning to get them on the road.<br><br>"Forgive me, please,"&nbsp; she offered with a small, conciliatory smile (or at least she hoped it seemed as much) as reined in Serena alongside him.&nbsp; "Headaches and very poor choices made in the night, tend to make Verity very bad company - and that's not your fault in the least."&nbsp; She peered up into his face.&nbsp; Her head tilted to the side just saw as she regarded his eyes.&nbsp; Always a lovely blue she could not fail to notice before this moment, they seemed to sparkle with the strangest glow now...<br><br>No!&nbsp; Bah... No, that was silly.&nbsp; It must be a trick of the morning light, or a lingering hallucination from the <em>desi deru</em>...<br><br>She urged Serena forward, steadying herself and readying her body as best she could for whatever pace Atos thought best to take up.&nbsp; "How long do you think we'll have, until the rains begin?" she asked, peering upward intently into the too-bright skies as if she might actually somehow discern whatever signs in the skies overhead her companion had managed to read, her ears straining to hear the elusive song of thunder.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>26-07-2016, 21:52:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atos sniffed at the air again. "This time of the year it is always hard to tell. Always some heavy skies hanging about, looking for a place to lighten their burden. Like old mules. But, depending on the winds, I would say we will get our hats wet between four and six hours from now if we have not found shelter by then. Another leisurely day on the road, then. My horses and mules will think I have grown lazy!" Having waited for Verity to get in her saddle, he said a couple of words out loud and the train of animals started to move forwards. They too could smell the rain on the wind and were as eager as him to get going.<br><br>There was something else in the air too, though. Something malevolent. But Atos could pinpoint neither intent nor direction. It was distracting him though, diverting his mind between the conversation with Verity and the surroundings, the wordless messages from their animals... and the fell promises of the weather, of course. As a result he was not entirely watching his tongue as much as was his custom. "Marquis De Sade? I have told you I do not often remember the names of those I pass on my journeys. That one though.... that name, it lingers still. Yes, he visited this land with his riders for a while, and odd and whimsical was the reputation he left the land with. We called him the Baby Aristocrat, as much for his temper tantrums as for the childishness of his face. Something about his lips. It is funny how some things stay in your memories while more important things rinse off like dust. I don't remember when he was here though; perhaps he has outgrown his childishness now. But I will give him this; young Donatien was the best story teller I ever met!" He grinned to Verity. "Although from what I still remember of his tales, they were emphatically not meant for the ears of children."<br><br>They rode on. There were fewer travelers on the road now, and those who were on their way were making haste. It did not take any unnatural talents to be aware of the impending weather, which was going to churn this gravely road into a muddy trench within minutes once it struck. Atos barely had to spur the animals on; also their ancient instincts told them that being caught out in the open by the monsoon storm was not going to be pleasant. <br><br>After a couple of hours the train was passing through a rocky field of some size, placed between two large grass fields. There were no animals to be seen; if there were any near they'd be huddling in the forest clumps at the far end of the area. Atos lifted a hand and the animals halted. He turned to look at Verity and smiled apologetically. "Do not worry, we are making good distance and I expect to find shelter in good time. But I have an important task to do and perhaps you would wish to participate too? If anything, half an hour of rest should be good for us all and our four legged friends will be grazing a bit." He pulled out the revolver and showed her. "You see, I have yet to fire a shot with this new weapon and it irks me. Would you like to familiarize yourself with any of my firearms?" The man swung down from his horse, and pulled a strap on the longest of his saddle packs to reveal a long and very old rifle. "I swear the Empire invents a new weapon every time I turn my back around these days. But they have come in handy many times. The midsummer rain is not the worst that can befall a traveler where we are going."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>31-07-2016, 21:14:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Verity had resigned herself to the inevitability of this Indian weather - Atos' easy predictions and the doggedly hung heads of horses and mules alike promised yet another monsoon storm was on the way.&nbsp; There was only one thing that truly lightened Verity's expression, and that was the ridiculous tale Atos wove so easily, all from her off-handed mention of that wildly infamous sadist.&nbsp; She could only roll her eyes, shaking her head incredulously, gloved fingers laid over her lips as he spoke to hide the breathless, almost girlish giggles as he spoke.&nbsp; <br><br>"Not meant for the ears of children?"&nbsp; Verity's hand finally fell away from her mouth and back to her reins.&nbsp; "The tales of the Marquis de Sade?&nbsp; Good old baby-faced Donatien, is it?&nbsp; Understatement just might be your forte, Atos," she laughed.&nbsp; "Oh, and tall tales too!&nbsp; You're looking very spry for being well over a century old."<br><br>She waved him away with yet another laugh and a playful wink.&nbsp; "I swear, you don't look a <em>day</em> over eighty... "<br><br>The day wore on, the animals making good enough time though Verity did not bother to hide her surprise when Atos stopped them in this rocky field, smack between two meadows of tall, swaying grasses.&nbsp; His reassurances they were making good time this morning were enough for Verity, and she gladly dismounted from Serena, lifting her knee just so from over the pommel and sliding carefully to the rock-strewn ground.&nbsp; She stretched and bent just so, both hands planted on her back, just above her buttocks.&nbsp; She grimaced through the stretch of muscles tightened already by "too long in the saddle."&nbsp; Perhaps tomorrow she'd wear the rugged boy clothes Atos had purchased for her, when they were far from anything resembling civilization, and anyone who'd care an Englishwoman scandalously did not wear a proper skirt, nor ride side saddle all the while.<br><br>"Oh, I'm not worried Atos - I trust your uncanny knack with the weather," Verity reassured him with a soft, only slightly pained smile, her dark-eyed gaze falling over the horses and mules as they milled about, beginning to graze just as Atos predicted they would.&nbsp; The animals seemed at ease enough - so why shouldn't she?&nbsp; She might have taken a seat on one of the broader stones to wait and watch as her guide did a little target practice, but she'd already had quite enough of sitting for a time.&nbsp; She caught sight of the antique rifle as he pulled his new pistol free, one eyebrow raising curiously, her mouth pursing to a pretty little "O" of happy surprise.&nbsp; <br><br>"Maybe after you get a feel for your new pistol, Atos," she suggested, walking back to the longest saddle pack and lifting it just so, revealing the rifle once more.&nbsp; "There might be a chance to fire this rifle?"&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>02-08-2016, 17:53:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atos's face was a mask of serenity. Perhaps he had made a joke on behalf of a certain long gone French aristocrat, and maybe he had not, but seeing her mirth he decided to go with discretion - which might or might not be a little late!<br><br>He looked the animals over quickly. For many it would be natural to put on hobble ropes but Atos loathed such devices. Instead he walked quickly from one beast to the next until he had whispered a couple of words in the ears of every one of them. By the time he was done he felt sure they would not bolt at the sound of gunshots.<br><br>Atos smiled when he saw Verity's interest in his rifle. "That's the Queen, that is. First cartridge weapon I got hold of. It was a gift of sorts actually, but that's a story for another time." He went over to the horse and pulled the rifle out. "I got to give it to you English ones, you make solid weapons. And in this case, precise ones!" It was a Snider-Henry, long and heavy and with a huge external hammer. He grinned as he showed her the aging weapon and how it operated. "It's so much quicker to load than the ball-and-powder Black Bess I used before, and you don't have to stand there like a jack-in-the-box while you reload either. Very nifty when someone are aiming at you. To reload it you just open this here gate in the back, slip in one of those" - he rummaged in a small bag sewn together with the big rifle case and withdrew a large brass cartridge. There was a little bit of paper showing how the bullet had been wrapped. he put it into the chamber then closed the gate- " and pull back the trigger like this, and you are only a trigger pull away from doing damage. " <br><br>Holding the weapon in his left hand and a handful of cartridges in the right, he gently steered Verity a bit away from their beasts. Ahead of them in the open field was a bit of cliff with naked ground around it, and a number of rocks in various sized. Perhaps a farmer at some point in the past had attempted to clear this area of the field. "See that white rock there? It's maybe, 100 yards away." He winked at Verity, handed her the loose cartridge, then suddenly threw the rifle up to his shoulder and fired. The recoil was clear and crisp if not particularly violent, and ahead of the barrel came a puff of acrid blackpowder smoke. Atos had missed the rock even though it was bigger than a man's head; the bullet instead hit a larger rock behind it and to the left. "Two lessons here. First: don't be in a hurry..." - he grinned to her - "and second, when you reload..." he opened the gate, and instead of picking out the empty shell he turned the weapon around. The brass sizzled as it hit the grass. "... don't be in a hurry then either. Unless you have finger skin to spare." He handed her the rifle. "Now you try. Never mind the sighting, just focus on firing it safely." Atos was dangerously assuming that Verity had not fired any kind of rifle before. "I even have some birdshot shells for it. A wonderful weapon that is, although the years are taking their toll on it now. Doesn't half show though, does it?" And anyway she didn't seem to mind things aged, Atos thought to himself. With some pleasure.<br><br>There was another suitable rock nearby, only twenty yards away. This he deemed to be suitable for a hand gun's reach. Only now did he pull out the newly purchased revolver from his belt, and looked at it with a little doubt nagging in his mind. Atos had carried revolvers in his hands before, and some had proven reliable and some had not. This was a very new looking weapon, a "Webley &amp; Scott Mk III" according to the letters imprinted on it, and he had seen similar weapons with some of the British officers in the cities. Which was why he had wanted one, of course! On the other hand this particular weapon had been bought in a seedy inn from a ragged man in a great hurry... and might explode in the hand holding it? As it was, he barely knew how to open it and did so carefully. The whole breaking the weapon open part was unnerving. Well, no parts were falling loose right away and that was a good sign. Opening the leather pouch of small cartridges in his pocket he slowly filled the chambers of the pistol then put it gently on the grass, waiting for Verity to either shoot a handful of cartridges or be wanting assistance after the first shot. After all, he'd never seen her wield anything heavier than a hairbrush. Unless you counted the bottle of Desi Deru.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>11-08-2016, 06:05:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Verity did not disappoint - not that the good opinion of Atos was first and foremost in her mind.&nbsp; This rifle was assuredly not the first Verity had fired - nor even the second or third.&nbsp; Still, she appreciated the fact he chose to move from their horses and mules, should one or more prove gun shy despite his uncanny knack wtih them.&nbsp; She did not interrupt as he proceeded to give her [redundant, but well-meaning] lessons on basic marksmanship, even taking the time to fire the lovely, elegant rifle first himself.&nbsp; Verity watched silently, her dark eyes appraising his every least move.&nbsp; Yes, there seemed relatively little kick, and it was obviously quite the accurate weapon in the hands of a true rifleman.<br><br>"No, she doesn't half show her age at all Atos," the archaeologist agreed as she took up the weapon, keeping the muzzle pointed down range as she let an appraising eye fall over stock and barrel and sightings.&nbsp; "You've done a beautiful job keeping Her Majesty so well-maintained."&nbsp; Nothing in her words or demeanor said she was the least irritated with her guide's instruction:&nbsp; they had many miles to go yet, Verity and Atos.&nbsp; For good or ill, the man had depths like no other she had ever met - or would ever know - in all her life.&nbsp; And for her part?&nbsp; There was a facet or two (or a thousand) in the gem that was Verity, to sparkle and flash and catch the eye, and Atos would learn this soon enough.<br><br>Since Atos had so generously handed her the Queen's cartridges, she loaded one just as he had moments before, without fuss or assistance.&nbsp; Verity lifted the rifle easily to her shoulder, content she had 'safety' well enough under her belt she could think about sighting and windage.&nbsp; A breath, in and then out, held - trigger squeeze - <br><br>Verity's first shot earned the whole wide world a generous, ear-to-ear grin, kicking up dirt only a foot before the same rock Atos had been using as his target.&nbsp; Somehow, she managed not to bounce on the balls of her feet with delight, or squeal giddily like a little child on Christmas morn.&nbsp; Instead, quite sedately, she turned, opened the rifle's gate and let the cartridge fall, sizzling in the poor grasses next to its spent 'brother.'&nbsp; She might have bitten her lower lip just a little as she reloaded the cartridge, to reign in that enormous grin to something a little more like a self-satisfied smirk as she lifted the rifle once more.<br><br>Her second shot sent chips of white quartz flying, a small, pleased hiss of a <em>"Yes!"</em> escaping her lips.&nbsp; Her dark eyes bright with success and the sudden thrill of adrenaline, she opened the gate to drop this cartridge as well, though she didn't reload right away this time.&nbsp; Instead, she lowered the rifle's muzzle, keeping it downrange as she spoke.&nbsp; "Go on Atos," she encouraged him, nodding toward the revolver he'd laid down in the grasses to watch her fire his beloved, antique rifle.&nbsp; <br><br>"Your Queen and I will be further acquainted soon enough," Verity promised, fingers drumming lightly and lovingly on the stock.&nbsp; "But right this moment?&nbsp; I'd much rather see you fire the pistol you purchased, all for a small fortune in gold from old Charlie... "&nbsp; A playful lift of her brows encouraging him to come play too.&nbsp; "Go on Atos, give her a go."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>11-08-2016, 18:29:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atos was pursing his lips in quiet pleasure. First at the confident aura Verity was display as she shouldered the old chamber loader, then with added surprise when she showed that the confidence was founded in skill. "You have done this before, haven't you Miss? Well done there." His own shooting display might not show off the full amount of Atos' actual hard earned skills with the weapon but clearly there had been little reason to hold back. For a quick moment he wondered what other skills she had been keeping under her skirts as yet. Then he frowned. "Who is Charles?"<br><br>"Anyway." He picked up the revolver and studied it again, making sure the lock was secure and holding his fingers well off the cylinder. Then he pointed the weapon at the twenty mark stone and pulled the trigger. Nothing. "Oh. Let's see...." The last revolver Atos had owned had met a bad fate and he was not entirely without blame in this. Attempting to utilize more patience in this attempt, not least because he was doing this in feminine company, Atos fiddled carefully with the catch. The Webley promptly broke open, the ejecter sprang out and every last cartridge promptly slid to the grass. He looked wordlessly at Verity for a moment, then turned aside and let loose a short volley of words not heard on this continent for many a year - which was probably for the best. After airing his feelings and regaining his composure Atos sat down on his knees and picked up all the six cartridge and put them back in. Then he aimed at the stone again, and pulled the trigger again. Still nothing. But now he remembered how the other weapons worked, and a light came over his face as he ponderously pulled the hammer all the way back until there was a satisfactorily click. When he now pulled the trigger there was a bang to almost compare with the rifle. The bullet went well aside but that mattered less right now. He pulled the hammer back again, fired again, and then cycled through the entire cylinder. When he open the gun there was a smugness over his face every bit as good as the one Verity had displayed, and there were at least two hits on the stone. "Hah! Newfangled machinery... but I need to learn how to use it, or at least understand it. The - " and then his loose lips clamped shut. "Never mind. I guess if I can't hit anyone with it the damn thing is at least heavy enough that I can bash in someone's head with it. That's modern world for you; always a new way to hurt someone where a good slingshot could have done the same trick."<br><br>Atos whistled in a peculiar way, and over by the animals his horse, Erebus, stopped grazing and came closer slowly until it stood beside them, head nudging at Atos. Meanwhile he had reloaded and now climbed up. As he aimed at the stone again he held the other hand at the horse's neck. It tugged, but less so when he shot the second time. The rest of the shots were fired as he let Erebus cross to this side and that. The stone was grazed by spraying earth at best. He was however more satisfied with the control the big horse was gaining over itself. When Atos reloaded again he held it by the barrel, offering it to Verity with his left hand. "Perhaps you want to try this as well?" Suddenly he ripped up a howdah gun from the tack and shot at the annoying stone. It disintegrated as a dozen little lead pellets assaulted it. "Maybe the old and tried weapons are what I should stick to?" He had barely aimed. "Anyway, we should probably call it a day with the toys and move on. If the rain gets any closer now they'll start rusting!"&nbsp; &nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>17-08-2016, 19:35:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				At any number of points over these next long minutes, Verity opened her mouth to speak.&nbsp; A few times even made some monosyllabic sound or other, as if she might finally utter a word, but no... No, she watched in amazement as some new aspect of the man unfolded before her, stilling whatever thoughts she might have given voice.&nbsp; For perhaps the thousandth time since she'd met him - and most certainly not the last - Verity wondered at the enigma who was her guide and traveling companion, Atos.&nbsp; The man tickled her curiosity like few others ever had with his strange combination of profound knowing and naivete, generosity and kindness juxtaposed with such a genuinely dangerous skill set, every weapon on belt or in boot or strapped to a saddle bag an old and familiar friend to him.&nbsp; <br><br>Her fingers curled lightly over her lips when Atos lost all composure over a wily ejector spring, cursing in some language she didn't need to understand to fully get the gist.&nbsp; The charm of those great blue eyes were what kept those fingers in place as he bent to retrieve the cartridges, earning him a respite from the startled laughter she dammed up behind her gloved hands.&nbsp; Brow furrowed curiously as she watched him struggle to remember the hammer - Verity completely forgot her own intended target practice during this break from riding, fascinated.&nbsp; She did not understand why Atos clipped his words so swiftly with her when his own shots were every bit as good as her own might have been.&nbsp; Something about modern weaponry.&nbsp; Something about bludgeoning, and sling shots... <br><br>She struggled to understand his reticence to speak plainly - at least until he whistled for Erebus.&nbsp; The display of horsemanship and gunmanship thereafter had to be one of the most stunning things she'd ever seen, a mystery to Verity damn near as grand as whatever they might find at the Chakyll Monastery.&nbsp; The horse moved beneath Atos as if they shared a single mind, a singular purpose.&nbsp; Erebus did not flinch, nor even so much as snort or nicker with terror at the gunshot blasts so near his tender ears.&nbsp; Verity did not simply stare this time.&nbsp; She gaped, stunned.&nbsp; When Atos offered her a howdah gun, presumably to pulverize rocks as easily as he had, she did not even look up to him from where she stood, for several long moments.&nbsp; <em>'Call it a day,'</em> was it?&nbsp; Time to head out, he said?&nbsp; <br><br>"No, Atos," Verity replied, shaking her head adamantly.&nbsp; "We're not leaving.&nbsp; Not yet."&nbsp; She struggled to put into words, what exactly it was that confounded her so about the man besides, well... <em>Everything!</em>&nbsp; <br><br>"Not until you tell me what the <em>hell</em> is going on."&nbsp; Those dark eyes peered up to Atos, Verity's lovely jaw set with a fierce determination, her lips a thin, unforgiving line.&nbsp; "You know... So much.&nbsp; Heavens above, so <em>very</em> much, of legends and tales and myth - and then... "&nbsp; Her hands shook as she raised them helplessly to her sides.&nbsp; "Then you know nothing!&nbsp; Not even to pull the hammer back on a pistol, much less the difference between the cylinder release and its catch.&nbsp; And yet... "&nbsp; <br><br>Verity's hands fell back to her sides, slapping against the lengths of her pale green dress as she shook her head.&nbsp; "And yet you still know <em>everything!</em>&nbsp; This makes no sense to me at all.&nbsp; You bewilder me.&nbsp; <em>Confound</em> me... "&nbsp; Her voice trailed off for a moment, the wickedly whirling thoughts in her head just beginning to coalesce now, gushing from her lips like flood waters from behind a burst dam, no matter how unwise they might be to give voice.<br><br>"And yes, if I am to be honest - if I think on it long, there are moments you just might frighten me a little too."&nbsp; Just like that one.&nbsp; Unwise for a woman to admit, all alone with a well-armed man in Indian countryside - but this <em>was</em> Verity Prentiss after all.&nbsp; "If I am to believe you, you bought this horse yesterday,"&nbsp; she lifted her arm, indicating the solid, powerful form of Erebus beneath him.&nbsp; "And then offered me the choice between him and Selena.&nbsp; And yet just <em>look</em> at you now, in the space of a single night!&nbsp; This is far more than just having a 'knack with horses,' Atos!"<br><br>The spinning gears whirring through her matchless mind were all but visible in her expression as she regarded the horse-bound man a few moments longer, until the light of some ugly suspicion turned the thin line of her mouth into a furious frown.&nbsp; "Unless... It's all just a ruse?"&nbsp; Dark eyes narrowed in accusation as one thought tumbled into another, dominoes tumbling into a pattern she did not care for at all.&nbsp; "Did my parents put you up to this, Atos?"&nbsp; She paused, but not near long enough for the poor man to get a word in edgewise before she exploded with a stomp of her foot, and her arms throw up high.&nbsp; <em>"Damn it all!"</em> she snarled, whirling about to stomp off toward the bag she'd left near where Selena remained grazing.<br><br>"They did, didn't they?" Verity growled, as much to herself as Atos, her gloved hands curled into small, clenched fists of barely controlled rage.&nbsp; "I should have known, with that letter from Charles of all people... And a man who wraps gold bars with a parchment, an ancient piece that just <em>happens</em> to mention Shambhala!&nbsp; <em>Damn it all!</em>"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>21-08-2016, 16:27:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atos' laughter paled as he tasted Verity's fury. It seemed clear to him that his traveling companion was already showing some wear and tear from his company. He had seen it before, recognizing the edge of real frustration. Suffice to say that there were many reasons why he now always traveled alone in this era. Fewer difficult questions were raised that way. "It is true, Miss Prentiss. I know everything and nothing. But my everythings are in the past, with memories and learned skills, and the present is nothing. I ever hurry to learn before it all becomes past, but knowing what to learn and what to pass me by is difficult. I was not raised to be a man of scrolls, but in time I had to become one. And many more things beside. The problem with being... long lived, is that the moment is ever only brief."&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>At her last accusation though he raised an eyebrow. "Your parents? What would I know of them? Yesterday morning, Miss Professor, I was not aware that you and I shared the same world until you stopped me on the street. If our meeting was not a coincidence, it was not by my making."<br><br>Thinking quickly for a way to placate her, he focused on her last words. "Ah, Shambhala. It is ever on your mind, isn't it? Well. I will give you a gift to perhaps soothe your mind." He rummaged among his pockets, then withdrew something golden to hold within his fingers. "Not all stories are created from nothing. The original facts twist as it gets retold, because it is misremembered or is better told if another end makes for a better tale. But the tales that shines the most tend to hae the deepest roots. The rain is coming and we DO need to hurry on now. Verity, I grow too fond of you too quickly to bear your anger. This little thing was made in Shambhala to honor Sander and its likeness is great. I stand by that claim. Perhaps you can let it tell you a few stories until we have found shelter for the night at least." He tossed her the golden figurine.<br><br>It was heavy to her touch, like lead... or pure gold. A chess piece perhaps. A half figure, showing an armored officer. There were two things standing out. The first was the near angelic face and delicate curls of the man, well known from other historical art. The other was the helmet which was fashioned a lion's head. The details were exquisite and there could be no doubt to any scholar who this depicted. Alexander The Great. Or as he was known in some places; Sander.<br><br>That was the moment when Atos' old friend Dunamis whinnied wildly. The long grass had hidden the attacking tiger and now it had jumped like a releasing spring towards the most obvious target. Its teeth were buried in the aging horse' neck and blood was pouring out even as the horse was staggering to stay up. Atos was changing hold on the second howdah pistol, turning Erebus toward the unexpected enemy to block it from veering off toward Verity while shouting in a voice that could have commanded an army: "WOMAN, GET OUT OF THE GRASS!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>29-08-2016, 03:35:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Like so very much when it came to Atos, Verity did not quite know <em>what</em> to think of his efforts to calm her sudden, fitful tantrum.&nbsp; Was he teasing her still, with his allusions to a 'long life?'&nbsp; What in the <em>world</em> did he mean by his "everythings in the past," and that his present meant nothing?&nbsp; How could he be so sincere when he mentioned his struggle to sift what was worthy in the learning of this age, from what he might yet pass by as minutiae?&nbsp; And... A "man of scrolls?"&nbsp; <em>Who</em> in this world would ever refer to themselves as a "man of scrolls!?"&nbsp; <br><br>But it was just this genuine confusion, this muddling of what could only be nonsense melded with utmost sincerity - and not a word of it from the lips of a man she believed mad - that finally stopped Verity in her tracks.&nbsp; His claim not to know her parents meant precious little to the Oxford professor - any accomplished liar could say as much with a straight face and earnest eyes!&nbsp; But when he lighted surely as a sparrow on its branch at the matter in the center of her heart - on Shambhala - that the razor-sharp edges of her fury truly, finally, began to blunt.<br><br>She whirled about, a tiny tornado of pique and pale green skirts, both fists still balled up into fists at her sides.&nbsp; Dark eyes flashed ominously, a sure promise of storms on the horizon.&nbsp; But now they whispered of the possibility the winds might yet shift, the tempest blowing over harmlessly given the proper motivation - and Atos' assurance he'd swiftly grown fond of her certainly did not hurt.&nbsp; Verity had, against all firm common sense, come to truly enjoy his company as well, strange duck that he was.&nbsp; <em>Desi daru</em> and dancing, fantastic tales and gentle, knowing fingers through the lengths of her hair - what could she <em>not</em> find endearing about this odd man?&nbsp; The thin line of her mouth softened as he began to speak of her heart's desire, nostrils no longer flaring furiously as Atos promised her a gift, a token to put her at ease - <br><br>- Not that the heavy gold figurine did anything of the sort at all, but at least he'd pushed her off-kilter enough to shift the rage of imagining she'd been tricked into some fool's errand by her parents, to the befuddled fury of wondering when in the <em>hell</em> Atos was actually going to tell her just how much he really knew of her destination!?&nbsp; Verity gasped, eyes wide, mouth fallen open in a stunned "O" of genuine shock as her eyes roved over the exquisite gold figurine in her hands - and surely this could only be gold.&nbsp; True gold, not gold-painted lead, of the very type Charles claimed he'd gotten from Atos in payment for the new pistol.<br><br>Words fled her lips, her thoughts tumbling over one another in startled disbelief, cradling what had to be - in conjunction with that precious parchment packed so meticulously away - the archaeological find of this century, <em>and</em> the next!&nbsp; All those small, tantalizing clues suddenly fell into place, the hints in the Greek text, the undeniable resemblance to Alexander the Great himself, right in the palm of her hand.&nbsp; No one could expect Charles to recognize the aspect molded onto the figurine he'd received - the twin, no doubt - of the one she held now... Verity gawped for a few moments longer, blinking in astonishment before she looked up to Atos, her brow furrowing dubiously.&nbsp; How did he have this with him all along, and <em>not</em> tell her about it 'til now?&nbsp; What new game was he at - <br><br>The horse's scream sliced through the field like lightning, cutting away any thoughts that did not have the least thing to do with survival in the here and now.&nbsp; The all-too-familiar flash of tawny orange and black tearing away at Dunamis' great throat, and then suddenly Atos veered Erebus and himself between her and the tiger.&nbsp; His bellowed command animated her limbs without the least hesitation, an undeniable fact she'd wonder at later (should there be a later in Verity's future).&nbsp; She sprinted from the grasses to her lovely but panicking Selena, leaping to snatch her bag from its tether at her saddle before the poor creature bolted.&nbsp; Terror lent Verity a near inhuman speed, no matter how every passing second seemed an eternity in her mind.&nbsp; Still clutching that gold figurine in the palm of one hand, she lifted the loaded Bulldog pistol with the other, whirling about to take a steady aim in the predator's direction but still wisely holding her fire for fear of shooting Atos instead.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>29-08-2016, 17:15:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				They had been far too busy to notice the men looking at them from a far away bit of forest. Or the grey haired man leaning toward a heavy tree as he studied the two faraway people in his heavy handheld brass telescope. He hardly saw Verity and Atos, focusing entirely on the gold glimmering faintly in Veritys hand. "Bingo! I knew there was more!" Charles looked back at his companions. "Looks like you will have your payment soon after all lads! Now let's do the wide encircling. " They sunk back through the trees and towards their horses and never saw the tiger attack.<br><br>Atos was in the middle of a storm, an inferno of emotions and sensations. Dunamis calling out in pain, calling for help in words that no ordinary human ear could understand fully. But also the tiger, himself old and ragged and even the triumphant growl from his throat gurgling in horse blood could not mask his pain from old wounds. Nor could the spurting blood cover the cloven ears, the broken corner tooth, the festering holes in his manky fur or the way the rib cage was protruding at its side. Atos had him on his howdah gun's almost non existant bead, and hesitated. Some would say that this was a man eater, a scourge of small villages and their roaming live stock and children. Atos saw a noble hunter, a true ancient warrior in his true element who was out of time and could not hope for a better day again or a honest kill. And then there was Dunamis whose only hope for release was now from humans. Just like the aging tiger. He cast the quickest of glances at Verity; she was armed now at least. <br><br>Atos lifted the howdah gun up against the sky and fired the right barrel. The tiger, tasting the fear of someone who had been laced by lead before, threw itself off Dunamis who was now lying on his side, whinnying. Its fall had been dampened somewhat by the grass ground. Then the second barrel fired and the tiger, who had been backing slightly sideways toward the next best target which was Verity, fell down as if it had been struck from the sky. Half its once mightily head had disintegrated. The man put the smoking howdah gun in its holster, patted Erebus's neck and was down on the ground like a two footed tiger in less than three seconds. Atos looked from Dunamis to Verity and then back to Dunamis. He knew at once that no mere bandage was going to save his old friend. But saving him anyway was going to be costly, this time. Because this time he had company who was not going to just accept what she was going to see and move on. He looked at her in despair, but with resolution. One old warrior had died today and that was enough. "Bring me a towel from the middle mule! And my water skin, the big one on Erebus. Hurry!" Kneeling down, his firm grip on the horse mane could not stop the blood from still flowing between his fingers.<br><br>He got his towel, but put it aside. Then looked fiercely at Verity beside him. "I swore an oath not to show anyone this... trick. I do not have the right to ask you to swear any oaths. But if you have faith in things good beyond what reason allows you, let my confidence in your discretion be be my faith. For an old friend's sake." He let go with one hand to stroke the bloody hand across Dunamis' long cheek, and the horse calmed and laid down near motionless within a few seconds. Atos was no longer looking at Verity. Instead he was speaking words, low and ancient and definitely Greek, as he placed one hand flat on top around the open wound pulsating blood. With the other he was pouring perfectly normal drinking water into the wound. And as the water passed over his hand, it started to get a different color and a light of its own. Bluish or turquis, as it glittered and rolled over the wound like waves on a moonlit sea. At first it was mixed with dark blood, then returned to clear as the blood stopped pumping and the water from the skin continued. There was no expression on Atos' face any longer, he was as far away in mind as he was near in heart. Under his hand the grievous wound started to knit as if treated with an invisible threaded needle, the cut skin pulled closer and closer until pure and glittering water was running over unmarred thick horse hide. And steaming as it passed over the area, and over Atos' hand. Now he picked up the towel, wet it and slowly dried the blood off Dunamis' back where he could get to it. The water skin emptied, and Atos looked at his hand as if he had never seen it before, or had drunk Desi Deru until his last wits had gone. He slowly looked at Verity, faint pride in his face with eyes glowing brightly blue. "Ne! Still works.' The man's face seemed white though, and he tried to steady himself against Dominus for a moment before slumping over. Atos was spent. The old horse however rose up moments later, neighing like a new day was rising, and stood stock still as he pressed his muzzle into Atos' hair.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>02-09-2016, 22:02:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				All her life Verity had been a woman of reason, raised up at the feet of logic and science.&nbsp; While her passions invariably led her to pursue what might seem magical or impossible, to delve into religion and the metaphysical throughout the known (and unknown) world, the Oxford archaeologist invariably discovered reality at the very heart of her finds.&nbsp; A very human reality, often fascinating in its own right, tied as it was to the spirit of men:&nbsp; men who built fantastical structures to honor their gods, men who studied the vast spheres of the heavens overhead and translated it to earth and rock below, who spent years of their lives lovingly crafting a single slab of stone into a work of stunning, sublime beauty, all for the honor of Something or Someone <em>'beyond.'</em>&nbsp; In all her years, Verity had uncovered the evidence of men's devotions, but never once had she seen even the remotest evidence of what - or <em>What</em> - had inspired such selfless dedication.&nbsp; Those were questions she gladly left for theologians and metaphysicists - and of course the inevitable charlatans, preying on the innocent, the ignorant and the desperate.<br><br>Nothing in all Verity's vast experiences prepared her for what she would witness this day.<br><br>She cringed as the first blast of the howdah gun rang out, deafening across the grasses and rock-strewn fields, and powerful enough to see the tiger from the throat of the old horse at the least.&nbsp; Verity took a step back, the Bulldog still raised in her hands, realizing the same instant as Atos the great cat was not going to retreat back into the grasses, but turned instead on her.&nbsp; A sudden, unbidden curse hissed beneath her breath, lost for all time beneath the second crash of Atos' weapon.&nbsp; <br><br>Verity swallowed, hard, lowering the revolver.&nbsp; She tried to to still the shaking of her hands with a single, shuddering breath.&nbsp; Blinking her eyes, shaking her head, the blood roared in her ears as Atos spoke.&nbsp; Yes, he <em>was</em> definitely speaking - his lips were moving, there was sound (no matter the ringing in her ears), and words - but the sense in them?&nbsp; For several long seconds, she could not make the least sense of what Atos said, understanding failing her utterly.&nbsp; Oaths?&nbsp; Faith?&nbsp; <em>Discretion?</em>&nbsp; These held no more meaning to Verity than the whisper of the wind or the gurgling of a stream.&nbsp; At least her body understood the clipped snap of command, moving without truly understanding in an instant to retrieve both drying cloth and water skin.&nbsp; <br><br>She fell to her knees beside Atos with all he asked for, saying not a single word.&nbsp; What <em>could</em> she say?&nbsp; The tiger was dead, and his beloved horse would certainly follow soon enough - even Verity could see the wound in Dunamis' neck was far beyond the help of a drying cloth and mere water.&nbsp; <br><br>How could she have known, or ever guessed?<br><br>Verity's Greek was good, but Atos' was obviously so much better, his intonation so natural, the inflection whispering of an ancient dialect, far purer than any spoken in professor's academic circles now - but that was the least of the wonders this day.&nbsp; Waters that purged blood and mended flesh flowed over his fingers.&nbsp; Waters that shone.&nbsp; Scintillating, shining, the brilliant turquoise of far southern seas, the violet darkness of far northern waters.&nbsp; Enraptured, stunned, Verity could only bear silent witness to an unimaginable miracle, unfolding before her very eyes.&nbsp; She could not turn away, any more than she could deny the truth of all she saw here at this strange man's side.&nbsp; The unnatural blue of his eyes shone as if lit from within, flesh mending beneath his touch.&nbsp; She started when he spoke once more, Atos' voice, speaking so plainly again in English - and then toppling over right where he knelt to the ground.&nbsp; <br><br>For the space of a heartbeat Verity's body rebelled, refusing to move even as Dunamis rose to his hooves, whole once more.&nbsp; The horse's whinny shattered her paralysis, those soft equine lips nibbling lovingly at Atos' golden hair, fallen from beneath their wraps.&nbsp; She moved swiftly, scooting to Atos, grunting softly as she lifted his head and broad shoulders as best she might.&nbsp; Heedless of dirt or mud or&nbsp; lingering traces of horse blood, she cradled Atos in her lap, his head laid into the crook of one arm carefully, the young woman wrapping the other about his shoulders, pulling him close.<br><br>"Atos?&nbsp; Open your eyes.&nbsp; <em>Please</em>... " Verity pleaded, suddenly unsure if she was prepared to see that impossibly brilliant blue in their depths all over again.&nbsp; She bit softly at her lower lip, her frown a gentle, worried little twist of her lips.&nbsp; Fingertips slowly brushed tendrils of his hair from his brow and cheek, the backs of her fingers tenderly tracing the curve of his cheek and jaw.&nbsp; The horse nuzzled Atos lovingly still, and Verity peered up into that great muzzle, as if he might have answers for all she'd just witnessed.<br><br>Of course he did not, and his master was still not speaking - but at least the horse lived, an old warrior saved, just as Atos must have always intended.&nbsp; "See?&nbsp; Dunamis is here, and he's just fine," she reassured the man she held, though whether her heard her or not was questionable at best.&nbsp; Dark eyes fell to his chest, relieved to see he breathed with every slow, measured rise and fall, and yet he stirred not at all.&nbsp; The hand that caressed his face reached for the water skin beside them, pulling it close before she lifted the pale green edges of her skirt.&nbsp; The edges of her petticoats were dusty, true, but the lacy layers above were still pristine.&nbsp; Verity snarled softly with the effort as she began to tear away a piece of the still-clean lace with one hand, not bothering to worry about removing it all the way before grasping the water skin once more.&nbsp; A few drops of water was all she could squeeze atop the soft, clean embroidered lace, but it would simply have to do.&nbsp; <br><br>"Come back to me, dear man," Verity whispered, her attentions returned to Atos' pale face, lifting the lightly-wetted lace to his lips.&nbsp; Still cradling his head in the crook of one arm, she dabbed at his lips gently as she spoke.&nbsp; "You've got a lot to answer for, you know!"&nbsp; she teased, smiling no matter how her dark eyes shone with unshed tears.&nbsp; A small sound made its way past her lips, though whether it was a laugh, or a sob, or perhaps even both, would be hard to say.&nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>03-09-2016, 00:16:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				And a sound there came, from Atos' lips after a while. It was a chuckle. Almost a minute passed before the next one came, but when it did it turned into a laugh. And then into a guffaw which was cut short only by a gasp for air. "Woman! What a wonder you are! Not a whisper of fear is there in your bones. But always more questions. If all the Gods suddenly stood assembled before you, you would surely demand to know how they got there! Curiosity, thy name is Verity!" Still the man's face was bleak but the unnatural light in his blue eyes was already fading. Atos stretched out a shaky hand to caress her cheek, almost dreamily. "Erebus still carries my water canteen, the round wooden one. Catch me without water and it will be a bad day." He looked up at the dark sky. "And finding more soon will not be an issue, I think." While she was turned away, he saw the piece of dress, comprehended and wordlessly put it within his clothes.<br><br>Pulling himself up halfway by grasping onto one of Dunamis' legs, he sat on his ass in the grass and waited until he got the canteen, which he uncorked and drank greedily from. "Thirsty work, this. I did not think when we started this day that we would be grappling with a bigda hua baagh, an old tiger." He looked alarmed and started patting his voluminous clothing, then dug out the revolver. He shook it against his ear with a dubious look, proceeded to open it very gently and this time the cartridges stayed in. "Ah good. I was afraid it had broken." He held his side and winked to Verity. "But it must have been just a couple of my ribs. I fell on the damn thing." He put it back inside his tunic and lifted a hand toward her. "Help me up, will you? It feels like I ran a marathon and someone on horse chased me the whole way." By now the blue his eyes was almost faded to normal, but there would be a faint glow in them for the rest of the day. "Still a couple of duties to attend to before we can leave."<br><br>Pulling Verity after him and with the canteen in his hand, Atos staggered over to the fallen tiger. The crushed part of the fierce head had mercifully fallen on the lower side, but the sorry state of the rest of the noble beast could not be concealed. Atos gently lowered himself on to his knees beside him to caress the proud face. "I will kill when it is my duty, English Woman. I will hunt and fish for food, I will kill men if they try to kill me, I will end the suffering of animals and even brothers who cannot be helped. And this suffering old Raj, how can I blame him for trying to kill us?" He opened the canteen again and let a little water into him hand, then washed a little of the blood from the tiger's face. "Good hunting on the other side I wish you, Brother." The last sentence was said in old Greek. Atos looked up at Verity. "In another time and place I would build a pyre for him. But his little brothers will cleanse away his remains fast enough. He will not mind." After taking another long draught of water, Atos stood up, like an old man, but he stood. "Now we must ride." He put a finger on Verity's lips. "And this time you will wait with your questions until we are under cover, or I shall insist on replying in full while the water drenches us to the bone!" And grinned. There was no doubt in his mind that if he let her start now, they would still be right there by morning.<br><br>Two hours later they were at the roots of a sheer cliff face, which was where Atos had steered them the whole day. The cliff leaned outward at a sufficient angle to shield those at its base to some degree, and the reduced underforest and a number of old fireplaces indicated that this was a frequent place for shelter. Atos seemed to have almost fully recovered, but he was in a hurry. The first heavy drops of summer rain was already dripping into their hair and much, much more would soon be forthcoming. From one of the mules he pulled out a tough canvas tent complete with bamboo rods, and a tarp under which he started unloading the packs and tacks. As each animal was freed from its burdens, it sought what cover there was then started to graze on the green vegetation. Blonde wet curls were snaking down his face to try to rejoin with his beard. "Better give me a hand before both we and our gear are washed away!"&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>07-09-2016, 23:56:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was a hard thing, to be left to stew in the thick marinade of one's innumerable questions.&nbsp; Harder still to have the object and answer to all said questions peer down at her from atop his mount every time she opened her mouth or made some such noise to speak, shaking his head slowly, laughter welling up in those impossibly blue eyes as he raised his finger to <em>his</em> lips this time.<br><br>Shushed for perhaps the thousandth time in the matter of an hour, Verity did all it seemed she <em>could</em> do:&nbsp; she pouted.<br><br>Sullen, scowling like a spoilt child who'd finally been told 'no,' the Oxford professor and accomplished, highly-acclaimed professional archaeologist hadn't the least idea her lower lip was actually trembling, jutting just-so from her mouth and dimpling her pretty chin as they rode through the Indian countryside.&nbsp; She'd not forgotten the nigh overwhelming relief she'd felt when she first heard his laughter, cradled as he was right there in her lap.&nbsp; Even now the memory alone could make her heart skip a beat, the corners of her eyes stinging with unshed tears.&nbsp; She'd certainly not forgotten his jest about his new revolver, and how happy he was to discover he'd merely broken a rib or two - now <em>that</em> was almost enough to crack the solid stone facade of her glower.<br><br><em>Almost.</em><br><br>But Verity simply could not shake the feeling of injustice at being made to wait so long for her answers, all in the name of rain.&nbsp; <em>Would</em> not let loose of just how wronged she'd been, petulantly worrying at the unfairness of it all in her head with all the single-minded determination of a cur gnawing at a fresh, marrow-filled bone.&nbsp; And so, she treated Atos to a heaping helping of the 'silent treatment.'&nbsp; That this was probably far more of a relief to the beleaguered man than passive-aggressive punishment was not lost on Verity at all, but one did what one could...<br><br>She finally <em>did</em> lift her eyes skyward, up from the constant sight of Selena's bobbing withers, as the enormous cliff rose up before them, jutting just enough over their heads to provide a natural and quite effective shelter for them and their beasts.&nbsp; Verity huffed testily through her nose when Atos called for her to give him a hand.&nbsp; She slid from Selena's back, leading her sweet mare into the lee of the cliff before she began unsaddling.&nbsp; &nbsp;"As if I'd leave him to do all the work," she groused to her horse as she pulled the tack away in both arms.&nbsp; Selena lifted her head, fixing Verity with one great, limpid brown eye.&nbsp; The mare nickered a gentle, undulating whinny before shoving her velvety muzzle into the young woman's shoulder companionably, and then wandered off to join the others to nibble some tender green shoots.&nbsp; Why, if Verity didn't know better, she might have <em>sworn</em> Selena was...<br><br><em>Did her horse just laugh at her!?</em><br><br>Verity's mouth fell open, breath caught in her throat, dark eyes wide - <br><br>- And then whirled about on her booted heel, stomping petulantly along dirt and rock and gathering mud puddles, heedless of them all as she threw every last ounce her slight weight (yet still considerable strength) into helping to unload and unpack whatever Atos saw fit to stack up and away beneath the tarp he so wisely constructed.&nbsp; By the time they were finished, Verity was as soaked through by the coming rains as her companion - and yet where golden blonde curls turned a deeper bronze as they ran becomingly into Atos' beard?&nbsp; Verity was left feeling like nothing so much as a drowning rat, dark wet tendrils of hair falling from the combs and ties that once kept them in place to snake listlessly over her shoulders, plastered to her neck and face like splatters of mud.&nbsp; She stubbornly ignored the shivering and the teeth chattering until every last item was exactly where he wished it before silently stalking back into the darkening shadows of the cliff.&nbsp; Arms wrapped tight over her chest, hands running up and down uselessly over her wet sleeves, Verity sat down on what looked to be a convenient-enough rock (almost instantly ignoring how it poked unpleasantly at her bottom, even through her petticoats and thick skirts), and stared into what had to be a near ancient hearth, used by untold numbers of travelers over unknowable numbers of years. <br><br>The archaeologist in her wondered just how deep the ash and soot must go into the earth, and what small artifacts, what remnants of memory and man she might find beneath the collected layers of the years.&nbsp; But the woman simply peered up to Atos almost accusingly, both brows raised in (blessedly) silent question, her mouth a still, thin line of displeasure.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>09-09-2016, 23:47:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You know, in the villages here the mothers always tell their sulking children that if they keep making those faces they will grow up looking that way. An old tale, so maybe it means that sometimes it is true?" Atos laughed. He could see how his companion was stewing but telling tales was now less important than getting the camp up. And the rain had already arrived, its scouts soon getting joined with the massive main forces.&nbsp; <br><br>Atos was stripping down. Already he was wet to the skin, so it did not seem to matter. Tunic, undershirt, head cloth - he barely wrung them before tossing them under the tarp along with revolver and storage belts and other sundries kept on his upper body. It was as if the water itself didn't affect him even though it drenched him and made patterns into his chest hair, while his hair became a whip reminiscent of a big dog's tail. His skin was blemished on one side though; the joke about the damaged ribs might not entirely have been a joke. He kept on working, setting up the tent by himself in the relatively dry area nearest the cliff wall, somehow basking in the torrent of water. He looked at the sulking representative for Civilization and grinned. "Just so you know, I would have stripped down entirely if not for the presence of females. It's hard rain, and not too warm, but it is really refreshing!" He winked. "Cleanliness is a virtue, right?"&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Eventually both the tarp for the cargo and the tent had been raised and filled with the gear that belonged in each. Atos was used to working alone and there was little extra kit to move on her behalf, but there were more packs and tack than normal for his journeys. If anything he appreciated her giving him the quiet to fully focus efficiently at his tasks. Now there was a camp around them, almost wedged between the cliff and the earth and complete with fairly dry blankets beside an ancient-looking fireplace built from pieces of rock that just might have fallen from the top of the cliff a long time ago. And over a reluctant fire made from nearby sticks and pieces of wood, even a black-as-sin sooty copper pot was bubbling with the last of the water from Atos' canteen. Now Atos walked over to the soaked Verity, bowed like a servant before a noble and waved ceremonially toward the fireplace. "Your tea is soon ready, oh fair and well spoken lady of the North. Will you partake in a late supper?" Then he winked, and the illusion crumbled away. Atos was still half naked anyway. "Or will you save your appetite for the breakfast YOU will be making us tomorrow?" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>13-09-2016, 01:31:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atos' initial comment, insinuating she just might be behaving a touch childishly, earned the man the petulant pink tip of her tongue in response.&nbsp; Anything more she might have said or done after that, was quashed entirely when the man began to strip down.<br><br>Any other fair maiden of this day and age might have looked swiftly away as Atos removed tunic and vest and even the wraps about his head, blushing furiously and desperately trying to find something of great interest somewhere on the cliff wall.&nbsp; Dr. Verity Prentiss however, had made being 'anything but another fair maiden' something very like a point of pride.&nbsp; This was the woman after all, who'd had little compunction about drinking <em>desi daru</em> in an Indian stable with a man who was - in most every way that mattered - a complete stranger.&nbsp; Sitting easily between his legs and letting him comb her hair, simply because she trusted him, and found him intriguing and fun?&nbsp; Well that was just par for the course in her world.<br><br>Verity didn't look away.&nbsp; Not once - and why <em>should</em> she?&nbsp; He certainly seemed to have no compunction about getting half-naked before her, and frankly?&nbsp; The view was rather nice (even if she was still feeling a touch peevish with him and this forced silence).&nbsp; The man who, in the past few hours, had become the single most fascinating creature she had ever met, finished setting up their camp without shirt or hat of any kind beneath the torrential monsoon rains.&nbsp; Verity's dark eyes followed him here, and there, her furiously folded arms finally unfurling to let her hands fall to her sides.&nbsp; If she'd not witnessed for herself the miracle of the water over the horse's torn throat, she might have wondered how the man moved through the downpour with such incredible ease, as if he strode through the very element from which he'd been born.&nbsp; Atos was, quite simply, <em>beautiful,</em> from the drenched bronze lengths of his hair, to the wet, downy curls across his wide, well-muscled chest; from the powerful arms that lifted and hauled every box and package, to the musculature so clear beneath the wet-shining of his skin.&nbsp; Even the dark trail of hair beneath his belly button invited her eyes to rove, traveling in a neat downward path into the waist of his pants.&nbsp; If not for the growing bruise along his ribs [it seemed the pistol really <em>did</em> bite into him, didn't it?], Verity could almost imagine him a mythical creature of one sort or another, a male nymph perhaps, or a merman who'd shed his tail to walk on two legs with the humans of this world... <br><br>It was quite the flight of fancy, and by the time Atos made his quip about stripping down entirely in the rains, and then given her that oh-so-elegant bow, his presence alone had actually managed to coax the grouchy wrinkles from her brow and the corners of her mouth.&nbsp; "For the <em>females,</em> Atos?" Verity asked him with a sly little smile.&nbsp; "That's very chivalrous of you, but I don't think Selena would have been offended in the least if you <em>had</em> stripped down entirely."&nbsp; She cupped her mouth with one hand, as if she were sharing some great secret whispers with Atos.&nbsp; "And between you and me?&nbsp; I don't think whatever you've got <em>'down there,'"</em> Verity's dark eyes darted to the crotch of his pants, "Would be terribly scandalous for, well... You know - for a <em>horse... "</em><br><br>The young woman returned Atos' wink with one of her own as she shoved herself up off her rocky perch, taking up one of the blankets he'd piled beside the fire.&nbsp; "Tea would be <em>wonderful,</em> by the way - and <em>thank you,"</em> she answered him, most every sign of the petulant woman gone, as if washed away in the rains.&nbsp; For the English, the promise of tea could smooth over great wide swaths of angst.<br><br>"I'm going to go change," she announced, dry blanket in hand as she disappeared inside the tent.&nbsp; The soft grunts and hisses of a woman twisting herself out of a very heavy, very wet dress could be heard quite clearly, though she did at least attempt to make some conversation.&nbsp; <br><br>"Oh!&nbsp; And a very certain 'yes' to a late dinner, too!" Verity called, followed by another hiss and, perhaps, just the <em>faintest</em> ghost of an unladylike curse.&nbsp; "Though I don't remember exactly - "&nbsp; A grunt, a groan, and then the remainder of her sentence, muffled as if made from beneath vast layers of cloth.&nbsp; "If it was <em>me</em> supposed to make dinner tonight, and you breakfast... "&nbsp; A sudden sigh of relief, loud enough to be heard from outside the tent&nbsp; "Or if it was the other way around?"<br><br>Verity emerged from the tent, wrapped in the blanket, her waterlogged pale green dress over one bare arm.&nbsp; Hints of her shift and pantaloons and stockings could be seen beneath the blankets confines, ivory and lacy, the very stuff of the cloth she'd wetted and dabbed at Atos' lips as he lay senseless.&nbsp; "I blame the <em>desi daru.</em>"<br><br>A sure nod, and Verity moved to lay the dress over a boulder somewhat near the fire - there was simply no way she could ever pack this away again, wet as it was.&nbsp; The mildew alone would befoul everything else within her trunks.&nbsp; "No matter though - I'm famished, and I intend to stay awake <em>long</em> into the night this evening."&nbsp; Sitting herself back down on a smoother stone this time, her bare arms reached from the confines of the blanket to the laces of her boots, loosening them to pull her feet free and warm her stocking-clad feet in front of the fire.<br><br>"After all... " She sighed happily, wiggling her toes freely in the delicious heat, sitting back to wrap the blanket a bit tighter around herself.&nbsp; "You haven't shushed me once in the past five minutes.&nbsp; It must be 'answer time' now."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>27-09-2016, 05:12:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There came a long sigh from Atos, yet half a smile curled on his lips. "Indeed it is, Miss Prentiss. Now how do we best unveil the tales you seek so badly unwrapped; starting at the start as I choose to tell it, or do I just answer your questions one by one? It is a good thing we have the whole evening!" He did not fail to notice her lightened clothing or her salacious comment, but it seemed a bit crass to comment on it in return considering his own clothing was even lighter - and the reply he had in mind, a lot dirtier. However, since they were under cover of the cliff now he started to towel himself off. Every shower must end. Wet hair started to curl again.<br><br>Atos sat down by the fire opposite Verity. He rummaged into one of the camp gear bags; obviously the one containing kitchenry. The man brought out tin plates, tin cups, little wooden boxes which when opened revealed tea, sugar, salt, pepper and other herbs - a kit assembled and perfected over many years to fit on a mule with the minimum of fuss, sound and weight. There were rice cakes, momos, bread, boiled eggs still in their shells, cooked chicken meat - a myriad of items best described as hand food, mostly prepared in the kitchens they had passed on the trip. Atos handed Verity a mug and poured hot red tea into it from the kettle. The leaves inside were too thick to slip out. "We have sugar too. Might as well be back on that boat! I am not a fine Sikh gentleman though and will not feed your mouth with my own hands, it is more than enough that I will be feeding your ears. Well, what is it? Tales or answers? Or should I go have another shower or perhaps a nap while you decide?" He grinned widely as he poured tea for himself and started to unshell one of the eggs. "And the best part is, we get to eat the juicy food first. We have to, before it goes bad, and the mules will appreciate the lighter weight too. We'll be eating snake meat soup soon enough." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>03-10-2016, 02:32:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Well that sounds... Quite nasty?"&nbsp; Verity cringed, her face scrunched up into something halfway between displeasure and disgust, with just a hint of horror to give her expression a bit of spice.&nbsp; It wasn't that she'd never eaten snake meat soup, or stew, or kabob or what have you.&nbsp; She simply wasn't a fan, and nothing in this world could convince her that it must taste 'just like chicken.'&nbsp; Still, she consoled herself by wrapping her thoroughly chilled fingers about the mug of hot red tea, raising it to her lips for a long, satisfying sip - the lack of sugar be damned.&nbsp; <br><br>"Snake soup, I mean," Verity corrected herself quickly, suddenly realizing just how her words might have sounded, without the caveats in her head.&nbsp; "Although, I have a little sidebar of a question you raise:&nbsp; is it true then, that a Sikh man will feed me from his hands?"&nbsp; Her grin turned devilish, accompanied as it was by a devious arch of her finely shaped brows.&nbsp; "I might have to look into finding me a gentlemanly Sikh husband one day then, and toss over Christendom entirely.&nbsp; I could get used to that, being hand-fed and tended nigh everyday... "<br><br>Her voice trailed off with a low, warm chuckle that promised she was, of course, only teasing.&nbsp; Another long sip of her tea, and Verity reached for one of the hard-boiled eggs herself, cupping it in one hand before neatly, expertly, cracking it on the metal rim of her mug - and not a single drop of tea wasted, sloshed from within!&nbsp; Quite satisfied with herself, she began peeling her egg with the fingers of one hand, managing to remove most of the shell in a single long, membrane-connected piece.<br><br>"So, it is up to me then, to decide how to unravel the magical mystery of Atos, hmm?"&nbsp; Verity bit into the white of her egg, finding it quite tasty no matter the lack of salt.&nbsp; She chewed thoughtfully, dark eyes perusing Atos' face leisurely, as if she'd silently dare him to make good on his threat to either go shower again, or nap.&nbsp; "All right then, a tale it is from the start, 'starting at the start,' just as you choose to tell it."<br><br>Still she waggled the index finger of the hand that still palmed the remainder of her egg, eyes narrowed with a warning tempered by the vaguest of smiles on her lips.&nbsp; "But if you think I'll not be asking you questions before, or after, or even during your tale when you stop to catch yourself a bit of breath?&nbsp; You've got a whole other thing coming to you, good sir... "
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Captain Maltese</strong> on <strong>21-10-2016, 01:16:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Atos shrugged, smiling. "Snake meat tastes like, well, snake. As with most other meals, the spice are what makes the difference. Even with Sikh menfolk..." He winked, then opted for some dry chicken meat wrapped in bread. Around them, the evening was drawing nearer and the heavy rain and black skies made the air even darker. He put a few more dry branch pieces onto the fire. The camp turned timeless; the fire's flames were reflected in naked skin, copper utensils and eyes. Soft whinnies were coming from their beasts who were sticking to the dry area under the cliff, beyond the tent. Even as Atos chewed he was producing his pipe and his tobacco pouch. "We have not done badly, the events of the day considered. Everyone are still alive, and we are as cosy for this night as we were at the inn. If not more; fewer people about. It IS a good time for a long, long story." He took a sip of the strong tea and looked into the flames.<br><br>"What I told you about my childhood is true. The fishing village, the soldiers coming for young men, and me going with them. They call the islands part of Greece now. And the soldiers I went with, they were Greek as well. Strong men and proud, and kind as soldiers went. But then we were of their people. Although normally every island tended to have enough work minding its own business." Atos scratched his beard. "But I went with them when the time was right, in their great ship. We were a just a handful of youths; coming from several small villages on the island. Not much of a force, even in our innocent buoying hearts, but there were many islands and together we made many young men arriving at the same port over the course of a few weeks. And then they trained us in the arts of the long spear, the short spear, the sword, the bow and the sling, the heavy shield and the light one." He looked at Verity over the rim of his cup. "The keener eyed were trained with the bow and the sling, as were those slight of build. Most of us were trained to fight with spear, and mighty phalanxes we became as our arms got strong enough and our individual strokes became coordinated ones." Atos put in more of the chicken bread between his lips, chewing as he pondered how to continue. "I told you that I am old, or maybe rather that age has been kind to me. And memories keep flowing away for me. The names of my companions in arms, the names of the lands we marched over, the scents of little villages who had found some new and interesting herbs to put into their bubbling stews. But I remember the orders for spear drill like they were seared into my skin, our battle shouts and the way the ground shook when we ran over it, a hundred heavily armed men in phalanx and ten, fifty, a hundred phalanxes beside up as we entered combat. Not much use now!" He laughed.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>Atos reached out to grasp a skin bag and open its spout. It seemed at first like another water skin, but the skin was flecked and disfigured somewhat. He lifted the bag high and let a sip into his mouth before offering the bag to Verity. "Another local specialty, Professor Prentiss. 'Sonti'. A rice wine." He grinned to her.<br>"One better not indulge in Desi Daru two night in a row."<br><br>He found a rice cake to add to his chicken meal. "Yes, we saw combat. Not big battles at first. Border skirmishes mostly. We walked until our leather sandals wore out, then we made new ones and kept walking. If you like the simple life, soldiering is good. Not so good when only the Gods decide who is skewered by a flying spear and who walks untouched out of every fight." There was a change in his face. "But the simple thing changed when He took command over us. Sander. The young prince turned into a young king, and then into an emperor. No longer were we only guardians of our ancient lands, but invaders and conquerors of lands where no Greek hoplite had ever set foot before. Lands bleak and cold with ice, or dry and painfully warm with sand it hurt to walk in. And with every victory our hearts grew with pride, our belt pouches grew with silver and our ranks were ever expanding until a soldier from one unit could no longer expect to understand the words from soldiers of every other unit. The battles grew in sizes, our collections of bodily wounds multiplied, the ranks thinned with veterans and swelled again with fresh youth. Still we marched on." He smiled without happiness to Verity. "Until we came to these lands. And could go no further. The next part I have told you some of before."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Of Ancient Secrets And Hidden Lands ( Undine &amp; Cpt Maltese )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Undine</strong> on <strong>03-11-2016, 01:27:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				What choice did Verity have, but to accept all exactly as Atos spoke?&nbsp; Even if she could have convinced herself her guide to the remote monastary was quite mad, Verity knew very well <em>she</em> most certainly was not!&nbsp; She saw Dunamis' tiger-opened throat for herself, and she did not have to be a some veterinary expert to know that was a mortal wound.&nbsp; That old warhorse should have never risen to his great hooves again - and yet at this very moment?&nbsp; Dunamis was snuffling softly with his comrades among the other horses and the mules, protected from the driving rain beneath the rocky outcropping and stoically accepting Serena's affectionate nuzzle along his broad, heavily-muscled neck.<br><br>And so Verity simply sighed, her hands wrapping tighter still about the cup of unsweetened red tea that warmed her hands just so.&nbsp; The ever-rational, ever-realistic Professor Prentiss might have had a harder time swallowing all that Atos offered up if she'd been fully dressed, ensconced behind the barrier of her great oaken desk in her Oxford office, the grey London day outside her windows effectively bleeding off the fantastical and impossible elements of his preposterous tale.&nbsp; But for now?&nbsp; Right this very moment, Verity was nowhere near her comfortable London campus.&nbsp; She wore only her undergarments, petticoats, stockings and a warm blanket, her dress drying from a thorough soaking by Indian monsoon rains.&nbsp; AND, she witnessed magic - real and true and indisputable as the breath in her lungs and the beat of her heart.&nbsp; Verity cradled the magician in her arms when he collapsed with exhaustion.<br><br>What choice did she have really, but to let all he said wash over her, this slow, strange unraveling of a mystery.&nbsp; One brow arched with amusement as she accepted the skin of Sonti, pouring herself a healthy dollop right into her tea after she popped the remainder of her egg into her mouth.&nbsp; Of course it'd have been far finer to be served by a Sikh gentleman, but one must make do where one must...<br><br>Verity smiled at the thought, and then felt it slowly, surely slipping away as Atos spoke on, sharing his story just as she asked.&nbsp; Sander.&nbsp; <em>The</em> Sander.&nbsp; Atos was saying, in no uncertain terms, he was a Greek soldier, enlisted under the command of Alexander the Great.<br><br>She blinked, her mouth fallen open, lips parted as if she might yet say... Something.&nbsp; Anything at all.&nbsp; But for some long moments, she spoke not a word.&nbsp; It was as if some small part of her mind was quite prepared to accept and believe the idea that Atos was truly many centuries old.&nbsp; But to believe he'd marched this mortal world with <em>Alexander the Great?</em>&nbsp; Her mind balked - or at least it wanted to, but Verity's indomitable will wouldn't let her be still and disbelieving and silent for long.&nbsp; That was simply not the creature she'd become.<br><br>She focused instead on Atos' smile as he spoke, his expression without the least hint of humor or happiness.&nbsp; "So you marched with Sander.&nbsp; Prince Sander.&nbsp; The Emperor Alexander the Great."&nbsp; There was no question in her words.&nbsp; "And you know all about the piece of parchment Charles gave to me then, no matter what you said back in the city, back in civilization.&nbsp; You lied to me... "<br><br>Verity's brows knit furiously, her quick mind working the conundrum of all this impossible newfound in her life.&nbsp; "And yet you bring me here anyway, enroute to the monastery."&nbsp; She seemed to shrink within the confines of her blanket, frowning as she made herself smaller still.&nbsp; <br><br>"Were you truly going to take me there, Atos?&nbsp; Was that ever your intent, to help me find Shambhala?"&nbsp; If Atos listened just close enough, he might hear the vaguest hint of hurt in her voice, despite the matter-of-fact words she spoke.&nbsp; Verity took another sip of her tea, a longer one this time as those great dark eyes peered intently at the man across the fire.&nbsp; "Were you playing with me all this time Atos?&nbsp; Playing with my passions and my hopes?"&nbsp; Her lips pursed tensely, a thin, uncompromising line across her otherwise lovely, firelit face.&nbsp; "Would you care to answer that, or should I let you finish first, telling me exactly how an ancient Greek foot soldier is still walking this good Earth, centuries after even his bones should be nothing but dust?"
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		</dl>
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