Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Crash on 05-03-2015, 03:12:21</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>05-03-2015, 03:12:21</strong>
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				<div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2f/The_umbar_market.jpg)</div><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>The Bazaar</strong></span></div><br>This colourful and chaotic bazaar is the heart of the Old City and has been so for centuries. Starting as a small vaulted bedesten (warehouse) built by order of Mehmet the Conqueror it grew to cover a vast area as laneways between the bedesten, neighbouring shops and hans (caravanserais) assumed the sprawling, labyrinthine form that it retains today. When here, be sure to peep through doorways to discover hidden hans, veer down narrow laneways to watch artisans at work and wander the main thoroughfares to differentiate treasures from tourist tack. It's obligatory to drink lots of coffee, compare price after price and try your hand at the art of bargaining. <br><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong><span class="bbc_u">Businesses</span></strong></span></div><br><strong>Fadi’s House of Carpets:</strong> Sha’ib’s textile industry is renowned throughout the Dune Sea. Of the many master carpetmakers in the city, Fadi is widely regarded as the best. An old man with failing eyesight, Fadi can always be found hunched over his loom, weaving carpets in the traditional style. Many jinn mages patronize his establishment, for so beautiful are his creations that jinn are eager to be bound to such items. While most mages would dearly love to purchase one of Fadi’s carpets, the price tag of 3,000 dinars is beyond the reach of all but the wealthiest.<br><br><strong>The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House:</strong> Popular among the middle classes, the Thirteen Monkeys stands out because of its unusual staff, all of whom are trained monkeys. The animals grind beans, boil water, make coffee, and even serve patrons. For a few dirhams extra, they also dance, screech in time to music, and juggle small objects. The only humans involved in running the establishment are Nadal bin-Yusef, the owner, and a hulking, one-handed brute known only as The Hand (named because he can crush a man’s skull like a grape). Nadal is there to make sure the monkeys behave, and The Hand ensures no one tries to kidnap one of the highly-skilled staff. When the coffee house closes, the monkeys are involved in other activities—thievery. Nadal is the guildmaster of the Seven Fingered Guild and the monkeys his most trusted members. The cunning devils never take stolen goods to the coffee house, but instead deposit their booty in a disused warehouse, from where it is collected later. Unlike regular trained monkeys, these cunning beasts can actually pick locks.<br><br><hr><br><div align="center">Post Header</div><div class="codeheader">Code: <a href="javascript:void(0);" onclick="return smfSelectText(this);" class="codeoperation">[Select]</a></div><pre style="margin: 0; padding: 0;"><code class="bbc_code">[floatleft][img height=200 padding=5]&lt;insert image&gt;[/img][/floatleft][hr][b]Name:[/b]<br>[b]Race/Culture:[/b]<br>[b]Location:[/b] <br>[b]Day/Time:[/b] &lt;Morning, Noon, Afternoon, Evening are fine&gt;<br>[b]Tagged:[/b] <br>[hr]<br></code></pre><br><hr><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Seasons and Months</strong></span></span></div><br>The year is broken down into three major seasons: Alak Arkhet (Flood), Alak Paret (Harvest), Alak Shemu (Dry), and a short “holy” season. The major seasons consist of four months of 32 days each. Within each season, the months are called Amt (First), Baot (Second), Anshi (Third), and Tamith (Fourth). Holy season is a single 32 day month at the end of the calendar, and is called Alak Neteru (Season of the Gods) by the Faithful and Alak Suha (Season of Contemplation) by the Devoted.<br><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Days &amp; Weeks</strong></span></span></div><br>Each month is broken down into four weeks of seven days, plus four extra days at the beginning. The weeks are<br>numbered using the same notation as the four months of the each season. The seven days of the week are called Yaus al-Maat (Day of Balance), Yaus al-Kemi (Day of Flour), Yaus al-Hamala (Day of Lambs), Yaus al-Sesht (Days of Scribes), Yaus al-Niwt (Days of Houses), Yaus al-Ittrou (Day of the River), and Yaus al-Nefar (Day of Freedom).<br><br>The first four days of each month, which always fall during the new moon, are sacred holidays, being considered<br>very unfortunate times to do anything except pray to the gods (Faithful) or contemplate the Hamad in order<br>to ensure one is living in accordance with Asaheem's way (Devoted). It is especially unlucky to conduct business<br>deals, weddings, funerals, battles, or anything else of significance during this time. As a result, the four religious<br>holidays have no name, and when citizens must refer to one of the four days, they do in general terms such as,<br>“tomorrow” or “in two days.”<br><br>In order to give a specific date list the week number, the day, the month number, and the season. For instance,&nbsp; Anshi Yaus al-Sesht boat Alak Paret translates literally as, “The third Day of Scribes in the second month of Harvest Season.”&nbsp; Using the translation is fine.&nbsp; <strong>We are starting the game on: The first Day of Houses in the first month of Harvest Season</strong><br><br><div align="center">Calendar (http://plothook.net/tools/calendar.html)</div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>05-03-2015, 03:12:56</strong>
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				Any market or business posts go here.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kuroneko</strong> on <strong>05-03-2015, 07:40:27</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v622/Jagwaar/Shazadi%201a_zpsql8ohgqw.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Shazadi<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Jinn-Blooded Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Rashid, Open<br><hr><br>The sun had already begun His climb into the sky by the time that Shazadi dar al-Hajaya dar Rwala dar Dulam managed to rouse herself from slumber. Shamash’s light was bright, reflecting from the dome of the Hadreen temple in the middle of the city like a beacon in the sky, even though the days were beginning to grow shorter as the wheel turned towards the harvest months, and it spilled through the slits between the thin fabrics that she’d hung over the high windows in the small room above her bed to cast a thin beam across her face where she lay in a tumble across the pillows and other bedclothes. Inhaling deeply, Shaza reached above her head and stretched languidly, extending her feet out from under the sheets to curl her toes and wake her muscles. Last night … last night had been a <em>long</em> night, full of the curious, the hopeful and the desperate, all eager to know their futures and what she could See, and happy to offer coin for her services now that she had returned to the city. Not that she was complaining. Her purse was relatively full, and with her newfound funds she could afford a few pleasures along with the necessities, and that would please the Lady – as well as herself. <br><br>“May business always be this good,” she prayed in a soft voice, before resigning herself to the need to get up. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she set her bare feet on the floor of her little dwelling and ran a hand through her unruly hair, stifling a yawn as the sun’s light caught the lines of ink that trailed down her arm and side. “Coffee first, I think, and then a bath,” she mused, in a melodic contralto that was well suited to her profession. “And then, a little shopping to stock my empty shelves.<br><br>A half an hour later, dressed in a traditional <em>tob</em> of rust, burgundy and black that complemented her coloring and eyes, with a long translucent copper veil wrapped around her head and partially concealing her face, and wearing enough jewelry in her ears, on her fingers or braided into her hair for anyone to know she was a nomad – and with the rest safely hidden in her rooms – Shazadi made her way through the maze of Sha’ib’s streets and the bustle of morning commerce in the bazaar to her favorite coffeehouse, one chosen for its potential for amusement and enjoyment as well as the high quality of the coffee it served. Today was a day to celebrate after all, as she was back in the city after a long absence. She couldn’t always afford the fare at The Thirteen Monkeys, but today she intended to indulge herself. Ignoring the merchants calling out to her as she passed by, smiling to ones she knew here and there and exchanging a few pleasantries with others as well as promises to return to sample their fine dates or another’s wonderful bread and still another’s vegetables and bring them news of their clan or tribe as they haggled over price, Shaza walked through the crowded market until she could finally slip through the door of the coffeehouse, where several patrons lounged on cushions at low tables, sipping coffee and discussing the morning’s news. <br><br>As soon as she entered the establishment the fine aroma of spiced coffee filled her nose and she inhaled deeply, savoring the scent and flavor that always reminded her of home, though of course no one could match her mother’s coffee. But, Nadal and his monkeys were a close second. Making her way through the room, she found an empty table near one of the fine draperies that hung down the finely plastered walls where she could keep an eye on the door, and gathering up the skirts of her dress, she took a seat on one of the cushions, leaning back against the wall. In no time, one of the trained monkeys ran over and jumped up on the table to sqwawk at her, a delightful, diminutive capuchin that she knew well. <br><br>“Ah, Jamal. Have you missed me?” Shaza asked, reaching up to lightly scratch behind one of the monkey’s ears. He lightly chittered in return, leaning into her touch and pawed at her with one hand. “Yes, I know what you like, don’t I you cheeky thing? And <em>you</em> know what <em>I</em> like. So, I’ll have the spiced coffee,” she told him, pointing to the picture of her order on the small card he carried in his other hand. The little monkey chirped and nodded several times as she released him and them jumped off the table, running back to the bar where the coffee was prepared, leaving the priestess with a smile on her face as she watched him, leaning back once more as she waited for the capuchin to return with her coffee.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Paladin101</strong> on <strong>05-03-2015, 09:09:59</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/5700000/Kingdom-Of-Heaven-kingdom-of-heaven-5751717-400-225.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Rashid<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>&nbsp; Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Shazadi, open<br><hr><br><br>"Upuaut the Unchainer, let my hands be ever free to defend your name."<br><br>Rashid dar-Fariq dar-Abhir dar-Bashir knelt upon the hard stone roof of the house he claimed while within Sha'Ib. His eyes closed as he tilted his face back before the wind that blew across the rooftops. A smile upon his face he continued his prayers. <br><br>"Upuaut the Opener of the Ways, let no door remain closed to my questing eyes, let me seek that which has not been seen, and expose it to your sight."<br><br>He stood with a graceful pirouette, his hands and feet flowing around his naked body with grace as he worshiped his God clad only in the raiment he had come into this world with. His hair and flesh. <br><br>"Upuaut The Lord of the Winds, may your fierce gales ever be at my back, propelling me to new places and new sights."<br><br>His body began to flow, at first a slow, rhythmic sway of movement, his hands tracing designs in the air before him as his feet moved in a precise tempo and pattern on the floor beneath. <br><br>"Upuaut, Who looks in dark places, let my eyes see that which others would hide from you, let my hands bear forth the torch that brings light to that which fears the blowing of the winds."<br><br>His speed grew with each spin of his body, his hands continued to flow in precise, measured patterns, but they were whipping by as fast as a scimitar blade in a battle. His feet flowed and spun as his body twisted like the wind, bending and swaying in harmony with a song only he could hear upon the wind. <br><br>"Upuaut, He Who Cannot be Shackled, may my hands burst the chains of those who have not your strength, let my might serve your will in all things."<br><br>His feet left the ground, his steps now carried upwards on small columns of wind and dust, each one slightly higher than the last as he flowed across the roof in an intricate dance form. <br><br>"Upuaut, The Celestial Wanderer, help me follow in your steps, and may your wanderings always serve to inspire mine own, as I journey the sands and the caves and the fields, all in your name."<br><br>His body spun like a top, his hands and feet moving in a blur with wind and sand circling around his form in a tempest. <br><br>"Upuaut, The Voice of the Gods, let my blade serve your dictates, mine eyes reveal those who would shackle others, and my voice decry those whom you would judge as evil, and reveal that wisdom you wish the world to discover."<br><br>His body slowed, the spinning, whirlwind motions slowing in the same manner in which they had accelerated, until he gently placed a foot back upon the roof, and with grace slid once more to his knees, and lowered his forehead to the roof, his eyes closed as he whispered his prayers to Upuaut. <br><br>As the wind died down, he regained his feet with a smile, and moved back inside to dress himself. He was not a fan of staying in one place for long, but he had just returned to Sha'Ib last night with a caravan from across the Great Dune Sea, and with money in his purse he felt he deserved a little time for leisure and the varied hedonisms one could find in civilized society. As he slid on his white tob and baggy sirwal he smiled as he contemplated what he would do first. Sliding his arms into his blue kibr with a black and blue striped aba overtop of that. As he wrapped his black turban around his head he decided coffee would be a good start to his day, who knows what he would find after that? So he attached his dagger and scimitar into his belt, it wouldn't do to be caught unprepared, and then left his home. <br><br>Sha'Ib was a different beast than the Dune Sea he was accustomed to traveling. He always felt off his center in the great city. Out in the wild, untamed and unknown expanses of sand, he could find his way with confidence and never doubted that he would find his way to wherever he was going. But here? No, here he was never certain. His hands laid with wrists pressed against the hilts of his blades, his eyes darting around the crowded streets, always wary of dangers from this foreign local. <br><br>The Bazaar was a little bit better. It reminded him of the caravansaries where the tribes would make their trades outside one another's oasis homes. Peddlers and tinkers hawking their wares, all trying to garner your attention just long enough to tempt you with some product they were certain you couldn't live without. And the pick pockets scurried among the crowd, seeking to lighten the purses of any foolish enough to be unprepared. He laughed as he watched a peddler engage in a staged argument with a colorful parrot on the rafters of his stall, scolding the beast for it's off color remarks to passerby. So it was with a smile that he stepped inside the Thirteen Monkeys, his eyes taking in the current clientele, and a laugh on his lips at the monkeys scurrying about with coffees. When he caught sight of an old, and beautiful, friend reclining upon the cushions before a low table he immediately moved towards her. <br><br>"Ah, Shazadi. My months in the Great Dune Sea with sand and dust stinging my eyes and parching my tongue had put me in fear of ever again looking upon the world without pain. But the sight of your beauty has quite restored my eyes, and rekindled my hope. At least now I can see without pain, all thanks to your beauty and grace." He exclaimed with an extravagent bow and a questioning motion towards the pillows beside her while his eyes danced with hidden laughter. If she showed acceptance, he would sink down beside her and kissing his right fingertips, would place them upon her cheek. <br><br>"Greetings Shazadi, it has been too long since my eyes were graced with your beauty or my ears with your voice." He told her in a more sincere tone before turning to order a black spiced coffee from one of the tiny waiters. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sain</strong> on <strong>06-03-2015, 01:27:49</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/326/c/d/golden_eyes_by_reykat-d87bmu0.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong><br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Hadaree<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Open<br><hr><br>One wide street of the Bazaar was filled with more people than the rest. It was not because the river of people here runs any thicker than elsewhere, it would be difficult to squeeze any more people into that current of the main streets. It was because there the merchandise itself added to the crowd. Numerous wooden platforms stood like islands at the edges of the street and on them the slavers of Sha'ib had brought forth froth on display their wares. People of all race and type united only by that none were worshipers of Asaheem. The slavers, equally diverse in appearances, yelled and shouted from their pedestals to the past flowing crowd. They were like clogs in a vein, each looking only to gather a greater audience for their goods than the next stand. It was a daily reoccurring event, though not all would participate every day and just that made it all the more vital for those who were there that day. Most nobility had their own trusted slavers and many would never consider buying from anyone, but a certain merchant. Trust and name were as much currency in the business as Dinars. <br><br>Yet this time - this place - still held its importance. Sure enough one could earn their fair share of trust in here, new partnerships could be born between nobles and slavers. Those new to business would sometimes use their day on this street to rise and actually stay afloat. To the experienced slavers ;those who no longer had to worry if they had clients lining up on their doorstep or not; however, this place held a special meaning. It was where the rarities changed hands. This was where one who knew exactly how much someone was worth, who could see past the obvious, could easily make a fortune by exploiting those less gifted in the art of negotiation and bargain from other slavers. It was a practice somewhere between art and competition. The traveling bands who put up their bounty on sale here, the nobles getting rid of their old harem girls, the drunk selling their daughters, those lingering by the corners of the stands were all pieces in this game of catch and all the old slavers were the it. <br><br>Among them sat Zidir. High up on his own platform he rested on a pillow placed in the shade of a colorful cloth suspended above the whole plane. He was in the middle of a coffee pause. A little tradition he had adapted from other traders who had to make their voice stay loud and clear throughout the day and the next for years to come. Zidir had pulled down the scarf from his face. It hung loose beneath his cleanly shaved sharp chin. He blew gently on the surface of the coffee as if the nearly deafening babbling and yelling from the surroundings were the most relaxing of background sounds. Well, he liked it. Especially the ones from nearby. One of his personal slaves, a sharp young man he'd elevated from the flock several years ago to work as an aide was doing good work as his substitute. <br><br>"It would seem that little Nafi' is getting better. He may have been born on the wrong side of business." Zidir lifted his gaze from the cup, his burning eyes turned to a woman nearby. An older slave her too with already eight years of servitude under him. She, Nafi' and the handful of others that Zidir had picked were his only helpers in the business and as slaves they had been very helpful at maintaining the rest in line; to help them realize that what they had lost in freedom they had gained in comfort. Whip and chains were hardly ever needed, but for the most rebellious of the freshly acquired who had not yet adapted to their new life. Those hand picked few of course enjoyed some special treatment aside from the quasi freedom. Their job description had as much concubine in it as it had servant. <br><br>"Hm... perhaps master is lucky that it is this way. Else he might very well have posed a threat to you," the slave spoke with playful insolence and a grin on her face. He returned an approving smile with a small chuckle before smugly correcting her. "I said good, not genius. He might have made a great partner however..." Zidir's gaze wandered from Nafi's customer to the boy's back, much leaner and smaller than his, but in contrast more toned.<br><br>"Oh Gods, I can imagine that partnership. You'd have drained the poor buy dry of everything and once he's knee deep in debt offered generously to buy him." She too had turned to look at Nafi'.<br><br>"Please, that only happened once, and to be fair he was known for bruised merchandise. The man had it coming." Zidir sounded more proud than anything. The idle chatter went on as the surface of his coffee slowly decreased. It was a good day by all measures he could imagine. Just another relaxing day at the bazaar to help his mind away from the pressure. <br><br>An interesting person appeared then in the crowd. Just a regular Djaffir on the surface, but Zidir immediately recognized the design of that mask. There was a small mark on it that connected the person to a particularly wealthy house, one that he could use as friends. Nafi' was busy chatting up some random traveler, the Djaffir would walk past if nothing was done. Zidir hastily placed the empty clay mug on the side of the pillow and climbed up from on his feet. He practically chased the masked man to the very edge of his platform and knelt down there, becoming impossible to ignore and more so once the Djaffir erred to look towards him. The smile, the glow of his eyes and the friendly knowing tone were difficult to snap out of.<br><br>"Wait there friend. Aren't you here to look for some slaves? You almost missed the best of Sha'ib. Come here, have a closer look at some of the ones up here, lets find you what you need." He ushered the man towards stairs at the side of the platform. The man hesitated for a moment, though his exact thoughts were difficult to read through the mask. Once he climbed the steps a jolt of victory rushed through Zidir, he had guessed right. "Yes, yes. Not even the Djaffir can hide their desires from the great Zidir. You must have noticed our lineup today, I could see you catch a glimpse this way. Which one was it again..." Zidir's eyes looked at the slaves he had placed to stand in a line today. Delicious women and men of exotic backgrounds, but each with some slight fault that made him want to present them here and not to his trusted clients. Those orange eyes and the grin widened a little when Zidir glanced at N’ebthe. Perhaps he could finally find a good buyer for that one. The spunky shaman had for long been a cause for minor headache. Her little queen act was beginning to stir some commotion amongst the general slave population, yet the qualities she possessed were such that he could not simply let the woman go cheap. <br><br>Zidir placed his hand on N’ebthe's bare shoulder as he began presenting her to the Djaffir. He stood at their side. "At once I could see you were looking for something more mystical than the average slave. I can spot these things in men, you have the same appreciation for magic as I do, yes? Well this one here is the perfect package. Not only is the body pleasing as you can see for yourself, but this one comes with more. Her eyes are always looking beyond this world." And never looking at this one, Zidir thought to himself without pausing. "She possesses a gift of shamanism rare even among the Nefasi tribe." And refuses to do anything else because of it... He could think of many faults, but they were best left unmentioned or dressed up a bit. "Despite having being a slave for a long time, this one still possesses nobility and grace fitting even for finer occasions." That one was actually a quality some sought in their slaves. It was a foolish slaver's mistake to force obedience on all their wares. Quenching that spirit was the same as throwing dinar into dunes. "What's more," he continued, "She possesses a talent for healing. I have personally had a wound tended by her. By Asaheem is this not one of the most perfect slaves you have seen? It is almost a sin to sell her, but today and for someone like you my friend I might make an offer today."<br><br>No sale in the end. The djaffir was not as wealthy as he had assumed. Zidir returned from the little pillowed negotiation space to stand behind the slaves again. He took a spot behind N’ebthe. Nafi' was taking care of the sales pitch for now. Zidir sighed. "You see N’ebthe. If only you weren't so stuck up on those silly traditions and accepted your place, did some actual work, I wouldn't have to bring you here every single time. You could have a spot in the household and not have to stand here for all Sha'ib to oogle. Just so you know, once I do find a buyer it is unlikely that he will be as understanding as I." Zidir looked over the slave. He had a personal code of not touching merchandise he wasn't prepared to keep. This one was one of the borderline cases. Months had passed since the ownership had transferred to him and he had still to find a buyer, but keeping a slave that refused to get her hands dirty with actual work was an investment he would not make lightly. <br><br>Zidir's eyes rose from her. He peered peered across the human river to the platform on the opposite side. The slaver there, a newer face to the scene, was bringing his best on display.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kuroneko</strong> on <strong>06-03-2015, 05:26:59</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v622/Jagwaar/Shazadi%201a_zpsql8ohgqw.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Shazadi<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Jinn-Blooded Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Rashid, Open<br><hr><br>Only a handful of minutes passed while Shaza waited for the plucky young capuchin to return with her coffee. All the while, she made herself comfortable, reclining further into the plush pillows after arranging them to her satisfaction. By the time Jamal came scampering back to her table with his tail curled around the handle of her cup, held high above the customers as she slipped between the tables, she was lounging back against across several cushions, enjoying the sight of Nadal’s well trained staff as well as the delicious aroma of the brewing coffee. <br><br>“Thank you, Jamal,” she said, smiling at the monkey as he deftly set her steaming cup on the low round table. Reaching into her belt, she produced two small coins and placed them into the capuchin’s outstretched hand. “Thank your master for me, and ask him if he would exchange this coin, for a bowl of dates.” Reaching out, she pointed to the image of the lovely medjools on the coffeehouse’s menu, and chuckled as the monkey ran to do as she asked. Picking up the cup, she stared down into the dark brown liquid, closing her kohled eyes as she inhaled deeply, savoring the rich sent. “Mother, I give thanks for the blessing of this coffee and the plants that gave their lives to make it, my brothers and sisters, and for the water that is life. May it strengthen and refresh me, and above all, bring me pleasure and through me, You.” Prayers complete, Shazadi opened her eyes and took a sip of the strong, spiced drink, relishing the flavor of the coffee as it flowed across her tongue and sailed down her throat to warm her belly. And when she looked up from her cup, a smile growing on her lips, it was to see a sight even more pleasant than the flavor of the delicious coffee; an old and welcome friend approaching her table. <br><br>Shazadi couldn’t help but grin at the praise the man heaped upon her, chuckling softly as he bowed with the grace of a dancer, which she supposed he was, in a manner of speaking. “Rashid, your tongue as is sweet as ever,” she replied, nodding and gesturing with one graceful hand at the empty seat next to her. “Please, join me. Have you just returned to the city? I did not See you within the walls. But then again, my night was full of hopefuls looking for information or solace.” Placing a slight emphasis on the word, she knew he would be aware of her meaning. “I swear, they know I’m back in town at least an hour before I arrive these days.” <br><br>Accepting the polite kiss transferred through the medium of his fingers, Shadazi moved closer to her friend as he settled himself next to her, smiling warmly at his words, conveyed with more genuine feeling and in a voice more suited for private conversation. Smiling again, she waited for Rashid to order his drink, accepting the bowl of dates from the returning Jamal in the process, setting the bowl between them before speaking. “You are too generous with your praises, as always, Rashid. But my heart is glad to see you.” Never one to be shy, Shaza picked up one of his hands in her own, the ink on the back and on her fingers a stark contrast his, and turned it over in her hand. Bending down, she placed a soft kiss in the center of his palm, letting her lips linger there as she held his hand in place before releasing it to look up into his face. “As you said, it has been far too long since we have seen each other, and my day is far more pleasant now for having run into you.”&nbsp; <br><br>Releasing his hand, she reached for one of the dates, nodding towards them in the process. “Will you share my little breakfast?” she asked, taking a bit of the dried fruit. “And then, tell me what brings you back to Sha’ib, and more importantly, of your latest adventures. What have you been up to, my friend?” <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Paladin101</strong> on <strong>06-03-2015, 07:18:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/5700000/Kingdom-Of-Heaven-kingdom-of-heaven-5751717-400-225.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Rashid<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>&nbsp; Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Shazadi, open<br><hr><br><br>Rashid smiled as he settled himself beside her in a liquid movement. As she greeted him and tried to declare him too generous with his praise, he made a slight scoffing noise. When her hand wrapped around his he couldn't help but notice the differences between their flesh, his weathered, sand blasted flesh and her silken soft flesh, a lighter tone and tattooed in intricate designs he didn't know the meaning behind. At the feel of her lips pressing against his palm his heart sped up, his mind filling with memories of the two of them languidly enjoying one another's flesh in a tangle of sheets and limbs. It was a fond memory, and one that was too far in the past for his liking. As she invited him to join her breakfast he reached out a hand and deftly snagged a trio of dates, his hands working as he set them in a tight juggling arc. <br><br>"Ah Shazadi, my poor parched tongue could never hope to be equal to praising your beauty and grace. My day is brightened as though a fresh wind from a never seen mountain had just swept me into it's grasp!" He remarked as he caught one date in his mouth and chewed with a smile as he stopped playing with his food and took a sip of his just arrived coffee. <br><br>"I am honored to share the breakfast of such a sought after woman! I am not surprised you did not see me, I just arrived at dusk last night, and my comings and goings are of little note to those who play the games of power. I am but a humble guide, a pilgrim of the sand and wind." He extolled. "I have returned to Sha'Ib, because a caravan from beyond the Great Dune Sea hired me to guide them to this center of trade, and they had heard I have never lost a caravan to the shifting sands of the Sea! They paid me well, but were a boring bunch of pale skins to travel with. No coffee, boring stories, and their women were far to infatuated with their own purity and superiority. They found the tips of their noses to be a fascinating thing to frame their world with." <br><br>As he finished speaking he straightened in his seat, lifting his head and peering down the arch of his nose at Shazadi with an assumed look of lofty disregard as he fluttered his hands in the air before him as though shooing children. With a laugh he settled back onto his cushion and reclined with his shoulder brushing hers. <br><br>"I am afraid as a result my latest adventures are quite dull, the pale ones did not wish to venture into any of the hidden beauties of the desert. A straight and narrow path, that was their desired course. Most distressing for a free spirit such as myself. So I am now quite determined to find a way to take some chances and indulge in as many pleasures as I can before the wind calls on me to move along once more." He told her, sipping his coffee while his eyes absorbed every inch of this stunning woman. "Although, I can say that I found another lost outpost buried beneath the sands last winter. A sandstorm swept through the Dunes to the North of the Higaar tribe's oasis. I was caught out in the storm and saw the side of a dune blasted clean by the winds, and beneath was a rocky hill. Inside what I thought was a cave was in truth a secret passage into the main hall of an old sandstone watch tower one of our ancestor tribes must have built out in the sands to secure their empire. It was interesting to walk in those empty halls, but unfortunately nothing of interest was left behind." <br><br>As he drank his coffee and told her his little tale he found himself relaxing. There were few people in this world he called friend, and this interesting woman was one of those few. Her presence was a balm on his anxieties, a soothing presence that made him less anxious about the unsettling bustling of the city folk. <br><br>"And what of you Shazadi? What great nobles have you made a fortune for, or whose life have you saved by warning of the impending doom that will befall them? Certainly your tales are more interesting than those of a rootless vagabond of the Dunes!" He asked with a laugh. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kuroneko</strong> on <strong>07-03-2015, 07:27:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v622/Jagwaar/Shazadi%201a_zpsql8ohgqw.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Shazadi<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Jinn-Blooded Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Rashid, Open<br><hr><br>Shaza laughed as the dates danced in Rashid’s hands, but more so at the way he managed to continue to praise her while simultaneously managing to downplay his own import in the world, as if a man that could navigate his way through the great Sand Sea and safely guide others through its shifting dunes were anything short of miraculous. “<em>That</em> is the Rashid I remember,” she remarked with a wry grin, “ever too humble for his own good.” <br><br>As she listened to him weave his tale, Shazadi sipped her coffee and gave him her undivided attention, grateful for such a fine companion to share such things with. She marveled at his story, eyes widening at the idea of traveling with a group of people who didn’t value the fine taste of coffee, the beauty of a masterfully crafted, well told story, or – most shocking of all – women who valued their purity above the pursuit of pleasure. Such things were almost unfathomable to her, for whom the quest and experience of all kinds of pleasure was the very reason for living, and not simply because it pleased her Goddess. But Rashid’s clever impersonation of his employers had her chuckling along with him, and she did not move away as he settled in beside her, instead leaning into his strong shoulder with an easy familiarity. “My poor Rashid,” she said with genuine sympathy and a little amusement, curling up beside him. “However did you cope?” Especially with no lovely ladies to share his bed. Add to that his employer’s unwillingness to seek out any of the desert’s treasures and the trip must surely have bored the man to tears. No wonder he was now seeking out other experiences. <br><br>Shazadi laughed softly. “Are you looking to change your allegiances Rashid, and follow my Lady, perhaps?” she teased, aware that his eyes were drinking her in as surely as the man himself was imbibing his coffee. “I find myself in Sha’ib for much the same reason,” she added, taking another sip as he went on with his tale. “Today especially, since it is Tamarni’s holy day. Today of all days, I must indulge.” Her copper eyes sparkled playfully. <br><br>“I’ve seen so very few of those ancient places,” Shazadi admitted, marveling that he had found yet another of the great cities buried under the desert. “Truly, you are blessed by Upuaut, my friend.”&nbsp; But as conversation turned towards her own activities, she simply waved a long fingered hand in the air before reaching for another date. <br><br>“You know I go where the Goddess takes me,” Shaza explained.” Highborn or low, city or desert, tribe or clan, I follow Her will.” She slipped the dried fruit between her lips and chewed thoughtfully. “Though, I did honor a request from the Sheikhah Fayruz of the Abraha tribe, and spent some time at the Oasis of Dreams. Somehow, the lady Fayruz came to know of my Gift, and so wished to have me use it to look into one or two matters of import, though this did not please the wizir handmaiden that serves as her bodyguard. Though the Sheikah was a gracious and hospitable host I’m glad to be out from under her the watchful eye of her dark and somber shadow.” She lifted her cup towards Rashid. <br><br>“Your company is <em>far</em> more welcome, I assure you.” <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Paladin101</strong> on <strong>07-03-2015, 08:50:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/5700000/Kingdom-Of-Heaven-kingdom-of-heaven-5751717-400-225.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Rashid<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>&nbsp; Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Shazadi, open<br><hr><br>"Humble? Me?" Rashid asked with eyes drawn wide with innocence before a smile curled his lips with a laugh. Shazadi was one of the few who viewed him as more than a simple nomad who made a living showing people the way from one place to another. He felt a great pride in his talents, and had spent most of his life making his own maps of the Dune Sea, exploring the wastes and learning their secrets. Here was one of those rare people who recognized the level of devotion he held to his craft and its worth, but Rashid had learned early in life that no one would see him as an important man, and so his laughing humility was the way he handled it all with an easy grace. When she asked him about changing allegiances he arched an eyebrow. <br><br>"Ah, if ever a beauty could tempt a wild wanderer of the sand to become a pilgrim of pleasures and flesh, it would be you Shazadi." He told her with a smile as he gripped one of her slender hands and brought the tips of her fingers to his lips for a reverent kiss. "Alas, Upuaut still whispers in my ear with the blowing of the wind, and I fear the screams of his anger would quite ruin the pleasures I seek. But I am quite willing to give blessings to her on this holy day, especially if her seer wished to help me make the day a memorable one." His eyes danced with invitation and laughter as he met her playful gaze. <br><br>"A wizir for an enemy is not the most pleasant of things, I hope you managed to avoid angering her. I have to watch over my shoulder every time I come to Sha'Ib, there is a wizir here who still holds me slaying his tomb raiding offspring against me." He told her in a slightly more serious tone. As she toasted him though the smile returned to his face. <br><br>"I am glad that my most humble of presences can brighten your day." He said as he sipped his own coffee and tilted his body slightly more towards her so his face was facing her directly instead of side by side. Shazadi was at once a mystery and a blessing to him. She was a mystery, because he couldn't imagine living his entire life devoted to a gift of vision which he was unable to control. His blessings were the strictly controlled dances of a dirvish, something he trained for and practiced, something he controlled and dedicated to his God. But Shazadi? She was simply given what visions her goddess deemed fit, with no way to know what she would be shown or given. But she was a blessing, in that she so gracefully accepted her gift that it showed Rashid that it was possible to give up some control. More so, she did not judge him harshly as some did for his free floating lifestyle, and seemed to understand his way of looking at the world. For Rashid, every day was a fresh chance to explore the pleasures of the world, so he snatched up any and all pleasures he could get his hands on. He didn't worry about tomorrow, didn't worry if perhaps others would think he should not enjoy what he did, for Rashid it was about enjoying each moment of life, because he never knew what sandstorm would be his last. And in Shazadi he had found a friend who seemed to understand him, and that was a blessing he had been too long without. <br><br>"So Shazadi, just how were you planning to celebrate Tamarni's holy day? Were there any indulgences I can help you to achieve?" With a waggle of his eyebrows and a finger lightly tracing the whorling line of the tattoos on the back of her hand he smiled and flirted with the fascinating woman he hadn't seen for far too long. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>07-03-2015, 19:16:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcoPfKF.png)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Ilhan<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Djaffir<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers <br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Zidir, Open<br><hr><br>Coffee - now was the perfect time for a cup just before the last of the morning chill vanished, at least for Ilhan who justified a leisurely and late excursion after an early morning sleeping in. Today he couldn't help. Normally he was up on his feet at dawn, but a restless night spilled over into his morning as he awoke in a minor sweat. A dream, perhaps, he couldn't remember anything of note, and as he sat up from his bed he stretched, yawned, and looked down between his legs. An unpleasant dream, then, for his usual excitement wasn't there. The past week in Sha'ib had been as lonely as they were meditative, with days spent in quiet reverence for the view of the ancient city from his window, and nights dreaming of a life he still couldn't let go, not completely. The Sevim maid had been on his mind throughout his journey, and his regret in not taking her with him only fueled his guilt and longing each morning after a night of dreaming. Perhaps today he was completely expunged, purified even.<br><br>Wiping his brow Ilhan rose from his bed and dressed. Today he'd explore, no longer confined to his room and his lingering regrets. The apartment he'd rented from the aged master on the caravan was a natural lure for any man to stay - finely furnished and ornamented it tempted one to lounge and indulge. But as with business, there was only so much to do alone. To reestablish his name in a foreign city required legwork, friendship, and greasing coins into palms, none of which he could do from here. Gathering his knife, ledger, and coin and bills, Ilhan left the merchant's quarter down the busy arteries of Sha'ib, headed for the Bazaar and its coffee houses. Next time he'd chart an alternate route, because he didn't expect to land at the slave piers on his way there.<br><br>Ilhan touched his mask, as if instinctively trying to reach his nose and guard against a putrid stench. Whether it was the chattel, dirty and repugnant from neglect and abuse, or the house slaves doused in offensive amounts of perfume, the smell was overwhelming. He whispered a prayer to break every chain here, letting his breath fill his mask and drive out the scent of slavery, and walked at a brisk pace ignoring call after call for his attention. He did not relish lingering here long enough to lose his appetite. Yet passing by one platform, he could not help but stop, and stare at a fellow Djaffir merchant haggling poorly. Whatever house he was from, he shamed them with his approach, barely keeping up with the dealings and very obviously being sold a slave he couldn't even afford.<br><br>He took another step, then stopped. He listened closely to the slaver, and watched him touch a Nefasi beauty by her shoulders. A sin to sell her indeed - she was queenly and above the degradation of slavery. All men and women were, even Nefasi, though he'd met so very few in the crimson fortress. But what kept him there, when he should and would have moved on, was an offhand pitch about her sight beyond sight. If Nefasi were rare, a shaman of the tribe was even more so. The next time he blinked, there he was standing on the platform, having passed both the other Djaffir and the lesser merchant he haggled with, and faced the Nefasi and her slaver directly. Behind his mask Ilhan must have seemed a statue for a moment, but underneath his robes he was very much alive.<br><br>"What do those eyes see?" he asked, a question for the Nefasi more than her master, but the difference was impossible to tell with his mask on.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kuroneko</strong> on <strong>07-03-2015, 21:14:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v622/Jagwaar/Shazadi%201a_zpsql8ohgqw.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Shazadi<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Jinn-Blooded Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Rashid, Open<br><hr><br>Shazadi joined Rashid in his laughter. “So <em>very</em> humble,” she agreed, smile growing as he lifted her fingers to his lips and blessed them with a kiss equally gentle and sensuous that sent a soft shiver down her spine. Now it was her turn to remember a night spent indulging each other in the kind of worship her Goddess encouraged, savoring the feel of flesh against flesh and the sensual perfume of their skin. As he continued to speak, eyes glittering in the dappled light of the coffeehouse to compliment the open invitation of his words, her memory of their time together blossomed further in her mind. “Perhaps then, Upuaut has blown you into my path today for just such a reason,” she suggested, cat’s eyes lit with their own mischievous fire.<br><br>“You’ve done that and more,” Shazadi replied, settling unconsciously into the same level of comfort that the dervish was enjoying. “You’re as welcome to me here in the city as an oasis in the desert. I have missed you, Rashid. Truly. I’m glad the winds have brought you here.” <br><br>Chuckling softly as Rashid posed his question, Shazadi leaned back against the cushions and let her eyes watch the way his finger traced the lines of ink that decorated her hand, smile growing into a lopsided grin at the way he flirted with her so openly. Ever the charmer, her dear friend. Lifting her free hand, she set her index finger and thumb against her chin, eyes glancing at the ceiling as she pretended to give his question serious consideration. “Well,” she began, “I might have another cup of this delicious coffee, seeing as the company is so fine, and then I intend to indulge myself in a <em>luxurious</em> bath.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she said the words, simply imagining the sensation of submerging her body in water, something so rare that few Bedu ever got the chance to experience it, and might not even indulge themselves in should they have the opportunity, given that water was such a precious commodity in the deep desert. “After that, I should wander the bazaar and buy a few foodstuffs for my apartment, as no doubt the cats of Sha'ib know that I’ve returned as well as those seeking my council. I can well imagine that there is at least one feline curled up on my bed by now.” Her laugh was soft and pleasant as she imagined it. “Then I should like a meal that reminds me of home, with savory spices and which does more than fills my belly, perhaps with a friend to share it with and good conversation.”&nbsp; Still smiling, Shazadi let her thumb slip over her lips, parting them just enough to bite down on the tip as she gazed over at Rashid.<br><br>“After that … you know what sort of offering best pleases my Goddess,” she said.&nbsp; “And me.” <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Paladin101</strong> on <strong>07-03-2015, 23:16:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/5700000/Kingdom-Of-Heaven-kingdom-of-heaven-5751717-400-225.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Rashid<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>&nbsp; Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Shazadi, open<br><hr><br>"And you dear Shazadi, are for me an oasis of calm and grace amidst the bedlam of chaotic self absorption that is Sha'Ib." He complimented her when she compared him to an oasis, a comparison that brought a smile to his lips. <br><br>As she assumed her false pensive pose his grin grew broader, loving the sensuously playful manner Shazadi assumed with unthinking grace. With each item of her list of things to do he found himself waiting for her to extend an offer for him to be part of it. When she reached the baths, and her eyes closed in an expression of remembered bliss he found himself remembering their nights together when he had managed to put such an expression upon her face, their flesh sliding and stroking against one another in an evening of complete surrender to pleasure. His mind slipped into an imagining of what Shazadi would look like, bare flesh glistening with water cascading along those wonderful curves. His eyes assumed a hungry heat as he listened to each item on her list, and laughed along with her when she spoke of the cats who would no doubt be curled up in the bed he was hoping to share. As she bit down upon her thumb and made her own desire known he once again lifted her fingers to his lips and placed a tender, sucking kiss on each finger, before he released it to lift his own coffee. <br><br>"I believe a good meal is a thing I would gladly share with you. Your...enthusiasm, for a bath has quite inspired me to visit them sometime today as well. If they can put that look on your face, they must be a grand way to spend some time and money." He told her with a grin. "If you don't find my company too tedious, I would love to share your meal this night. And if my humble, sand blasted body is deemed worthy by one so beautiful, I will admit that I hunger to give you the offerings which best please you and your goddess. The desert is beautiful at night, lost alone in a sea of blackness above, the tiny lights that so entertain the God's shining down upon you, while the moon baths the sands in it's pure radiance, a gentle illumination as though to apologize for the harshness of it's brother the sun. While the moon soothes and the silken blackness of the night wind wrap you up in solitude, you can wander the sands, lost in your own world of wonder. But all of that beauty is a hollow shell of loneliness that a man can lose himself within, while the fire of your eyes, and the softness of your touch is a guiding beacon, urging us foolish suitors onward to warm our souls by the fires of your pleasure, or be cast off destitute and forlorn in the dark if you deny us your comfort." As he spoke he was slightly more bold than was his norm in public, and reached out a hand to caress her chin, and brush his thumb across those lips he hungered for. He knew at times he could lay it on thickly, but on the desert trails, he had none to speak to, and found that flowery words were a pleasure to craft, and an ease to speak. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kuroneko</strong> on <strong>08-03-2015, 03:41:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v622/Jagwaar/Shazadi%201a_zpsql8ohgqw.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Shazadi<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Jinn-Blooded Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Rashid, Open<br><hr><br>“Then I am more than happy to be such things for you, my friend,” Shazadi replied, “for you have always been a comfort to me, since the moment we met. Far more generous than most, and always true to your word.” <br><br>She laid out the plans for her day, knowing that Rashid was more than intrigued, that he was, in fact, waiting for him to invite her to join him. But like the feline namesake of her Goddess, Shazadi rather enjoyed the hunt and the chase as much as the capture, and his playful banter was not to be missed. Flirting was all part of the dance, and she was enjoying it too much to cut it off too soon. Besides, the deal was already struck, which her companion no doubt knew. She couldn’t turn down any pleasure offered to her, lest she risk a major offense to Tamarni. To do so would be a sin, and Shazadi prided herself on committing very few sins against her Goddess. Each lingering kiss on her fingers seemed to plead his case in the most sensuous of ways. <br><br>“You’ve become quite the poet since the last time we met,” Shazadi observed with a smile that made her eyes sparkle. “And you’ve grown bold,” she added, as his thumb gently caressed the soft skin of her lip. “You know as well as I do that I cannot refuse you, today of all days, not without risking my Lady’s ire and inviting a major sin to lodge itself in my soul.” Before Rashid could think that this was the only reason she was agreeing to his offer, she quickly caught his thumb between her teeth, nipping it gently before releasing it. “But I hope you also know that I <em>would </em> not refuse you, because you are my friend, and because I remember the last time you shared my bed with <em>far </em> more than fondness. I remember a clever and inventive lover, whose passion was rare and fine. And whose body was neither humble nor sand blasted.” Leaning forward, she rested one slender arm on the table so that she could move closer to Rashid, close enough to smell the coffee and spices on his breath. <br><br>“So <em>habibi</em>, I think that you should join me in my pursuit of pleasure today,” Shazadi said, copper eyes searching his, “For more than just dinner. Would not the baths be better enjoyed together? And would I not be safer in the market with you by my side?” She could well protect herself, but there was no harm in stroking Rashid’s ego with the truth. His skill as a warrior far exceeded her own dagger and <em>katar</em>. “The, we can feed the rapacious felines that have no doubt found their way into my home, and see what the day brings us before we take our meal together. Who knows, perhaps we may need to eat dessert before dinner, and then eat to restore our strength before the moon rises.” <br><br>This close, the rare sandalwood in her hair rose to add its temptation to her proposal, as Shazadi hovered close to the dervish, who despite his protests to the contrary, was a very handsome man and one she was quite fond of. With a smile she titled her head, running her tongue along the back of her teeth as she considered him, ready to add one last tease to their banter. “Unless, of course, you have other plans,” she said, eyes bright with mischief. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Paladin101</strong> on <strong>08-03-2015, 04:34:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/5700000/Kingdom-Of-Heaven-kingdom-of-heaven-5751717-400-225.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Rashid<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>&nbsp; Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Shazadi, open<br><hr><br>"A poet? Me? No Shazadi, I simply pour my soul upon my words and dash them to the winds, hoping they land upon ears who favor their taste." Rashid replied with a laugh. <br><br>As she leaned in closer, the smell of this intoxicating woman filled his nose, the sandalwood in her hair, the coffee and spices upon her breath, that distinctly feminine smell that was Shazadi. His head tilted slightly, the pleased smile upon his lips as their faces hovered close together made him pleased that he had cleansed himself last night. Admittedly it had been a simple cleansing with a jug of water from the well and a cloth, but it had washed the worst of the desert from his body. Though still his flesh had a hot, baked smell of the sands. As she smiled and tilted her head, he saw the mischief in her eyes while she delivered her tease. <br><br>"At present, my plans are to show you that the felines in your home are not the only rapacious creatures whose hunger you will have to slake." He rumbled, leaning his face close enough that a breeze would have a hard time flowing between them. "I believe a day of pursuing pleasures of all sorts is a marvelous idea. By the time the moon rises, I intend to have you begging your lady for a reprieve from our dessert." <br><br>His eyes were hotter than his spice laced breath upon her cheek as he whispered his plans into her ear, his cheek nuzzled lightly against hers before he leaned back away from her and reclined on the cushions once more. <br><br>"So Shazadi, you should probably see about that second cup of coffee. I'm saving my appetite for a different meal." His smile was at once easy and hungry as he sat looking at his friend, already imagining sharing a bath with her, and all the fun ways they could find to get one another clean and dirty at the same time. At the same time, he looked forward to a day spent just being in her presence floating through the markets of Sha'Ib, sharing time with someone who understood him and whom he could speak to with ease. It was going to be a magnificent day. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Amarlo</strong> on <strong>08-03-2015, 06:42:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/02/cc/7d/02cc7dd8e0d76469ac60fd12421d4095.jpg)</div><hr><strong>N’ebthe:</strong><br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Nefasi<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Zidir, Ilhan<br><hr><br>Perhaps she was a pain of an investment but she stood by her own code even under threat or death or punishment. She had long ago proved to be an unyielding consort, so much so that she was rigid in her practices even now.&nbsp; She refused to touch the floor with these hands of hers – they were just as every bit as clean and pure as many of her instruments had to be. Certain rituals required her to retain a degree of cleanliness in order to be successful and even if she had been captured and labeled a slave that did not mean she would release herself of the most important label she had ever <i>earned</i>. Her efforts had thus far rewarded her with both ire and reverence – much to the dismay of her previous handlers. <br><br>For some she’d become a beacon of hope while others looked upon her with jealousy and malice. They simply could not believe that some Nefasi barbarian would be allowed such freedom! Though while she would not clean as other slaves would she had tended too many of their wounds – spiritually and physically. At least Zidir could say his own stock had never been healthier; even if that meant her requesting a variety of plant life from him in the process. It hadn’t come without its price though because never before had she offered her services to one of her ‘owners’, but this man had not yet even attempted to lay a hand nor crop upon her and so she gifted him and those under his care for his absent cruelty thus far. <br><br>The gentle tap of meticulous fingers drew the woman into its guidance and allowed Zidir to turn her as he pleased. She did not shy her gaze from his prospect like any other slave would but locked lavender hues with the eyes of this mask. She said nothing, at least giving this much respect, but was not at all unhappy to see the Djaffir go. Hazy amethysts followed her would be buyer’s retreat with a sharp stare that seemed to bore into his spine. <i>”I doubt any man or woman would pay such riches for a slave they plan to destroy.”</i> The woman gifted Zidir a coy smile. Slave and stubborn she may be but weak minded? She certainly was not. <br><br><i>”I will not taint my spirit just to make your shoulders less heavy, Zidir. Not when you bare such weight by your own practices.”</i> And just as coolly as she ever was she dismissed the man holding the thread to her life like he merely held it by his fingertips. Even dressed in whatever wears this man gifted her with she wore it like a Queen. There was no shame in her stance, no humiliation in her present company or her status in life. She was simply there and while places may change, her spirit would not so easily. <br><br>Suddenly another man stood before her, his stance unyielding with confidence just as she was but there was one great difference. <i>”Your spirit lags behind you – you who keeps trudging forward – you who ignores what it tells you. It yearns for something you have left behind, something that leaves you split within. You must make up your mind or you will never feel whole…”</i> She muttered to him and while her eyes were aimed at him the fog of her near-blindness made it seem she was looking past him instead. <br><br>With that said and his question answered the woman inclined a somewhat unruly brow. <i>”You. I see <b>you</b>.”</i><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>08-03-2015, 07:14:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcoPfKF.png)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Ilhan<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Djaffir<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers <br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Zidir, Open<br><hr><br>His gloved hands clenched, and he resisted the urge to reach for his book. Those words were important, and worth remembering before they were worth writing down. Clairvoyance was not so different from poetry, and Ilhan could walk away as if unimpressed by her performance. But the dark slave queen did impress. If she guessed, then that, too, was a talent of its own. Rather than defensively fold his arms he instead hooked a thumb into his belt and retained his strong posture, not so easily intimidated by her refined speech. She was on display proudly, even if unwilling, and Ilhan did not disrespect her by turning away ashamed or in contemplation. His eyes were faintly visible through the slits of his mask, and his lips too from casting his own tall shadow on himself and N'ebthe.<br><br><div align="center"><em>"To will forgetting friends is not<br>The same as having friends forgot; <br>"I can, but I decline to do" <br>Is not" I am unable to."</em></div><br>His diction was clear, his accent high class, as though he was every bit her equal and not to be looked down upon. Chains had nothing to do with that, nor who was buying or selling whom. He looked up at the man behind her, his eyes and lips disappearing into shadow again. "Blessings... upon you," he said, deciding against invoking Upuaut's name before a slaver at a slave auction. "And you," he added, tipping his chin just slightly to let the Nefasi know he spoke to her as well. "I am Ilhan alim-Aricanli," he introduced, raising the other Djaffir's attention slightly from the way his shoulders braced while speaking with the other merchant. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Amarlo</strong> on <strong>08-03-2015, 07:44:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/02/cc/7d/02cc7dd8e0d76469ac60fd12421d4095.jpg)</div><hr><strong>N’ebthe:</strong><br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Nefasi<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Zidir, Ilhan<br><hr><br>Oh how easily this could turn into a game but to do so would be an insult to the soul within him. She did not care to insult such a thing. This man obviously enjoyed his prose. Part of her wanted to up the ante like it were some kind of competition but she smothered this inclination just as swiftly as it had come. She knew of his kind from somewhere, somewhere in the back of her mind there sparked a light that would shone something hidden within her depths. <br><br>Long lashes fluttered to rest upon her high cheek-bones, falling into the balm of peace within herself. <i>”And if we willed, we could show them to you, and you would know them by their mark; but you will surely know them by their tone of speech.”</i> She recited from the many pages of her spirit, resending her own gesture of greeting.<br><br><i>”N’ebthe.”</i> She introduced, those unglossed gems lifting to find him once again. She liked him, just as she liked Zidir deep down inside. She enjoyed her debates with Zidir and she felt she would enjoy the same with this man. She would be lying if she said she felt her stay with Zidir was unpleasant – it was merely inconveniently. <i>”You draw attention.”</i> She added, raising her chin towards the squaring shoulders some meters away – even if she could not see those shoulders tense as they did. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sain</strong> on <strong>08-03-2015, 16:58:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/326/c/d/golden_eyes_by_reykat-d87bmu0.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Zidir<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Hadaree<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Ihan<br><hr><br>Zidir regarded her smile and comment with a more neutral look in reply, though he could not utterly conceal the disappointment of the Djaffir leaving. That sensation did not linger long though, as he spoke the tone was again knowing and smug. "Suppose you will not, but worry not. It is entirely understandable that finding a buyer would be difficult. It is clear to them that I am not selling a cart to be used until it breaks. Those men do business elsewhere." Zidir's eyes wandered left of N'ebthe, he looked over the river of crowd towards where the smaller men did their trade. There were those pig-like noble who cared not for anything but the quality of flesh in their slaves. Pitiful things would be used until broken and discarded to die somewhere within the maze of Sha'ib. If there was weight to this trade it was from the conflict of greed, pride and pity. For now Zidir stood on this side of the market.<br><br>A pleasant surprise. New buyer had walked up and with obvious interest in N'ebthe. This could be the one to relieve him. The djaffir and their mysterious questions. Zidir was about to say his answer when he heard one coming from N'ebthe. The friendly composition of his smile did not falter. What others might have taken as insolence from the slave he already saw as an advantage. Nothing to boost a sell as well as the slave herself. Yes, yes, go on my girl; he urged her within his mind. <br><br>Zidir simply followed the exchange for while, observing it grow almost giddily. It was the furthest that anyone had really come to actually buying this one. He watched every motion and kept his ear sharp. Reading the masked men was not all that different from the rest, it was about the big picture. This was was far from the lowly nobles on the other side of the street. A man of refinement and...&nbsp; he had a curiously courteous stand towards a slave. <br><br>"And may said blessings fall upon yourself as well," Zidir replied. He chose a less pushy and eager tone, choosing to match the man's more relaxed class. In the background, the othe Djaffir negotiating with Nafi' turned his masked face for a moment to peer towards them. It brought a brief pause to whatever the boy slave and he had been bargaining of, but went outwardly unregistered by Zidir who replied to the introduction, "Zidir ibn Hajar is pleased to have you come take such keen note of his best. He fell silent for a moment, turning the burning orbs to cast their light upon N'ebthe, waiting for her to let a name out before he continued. <br><br>"I take it you like what you see Ilhan, and what you hear." The slaves up there were barely garbed, given only wispy pieces that would shield neither from the sun nor the eye. The shade hanged over the platform further kept the cold morning chill lingering, though they would all be used to a little cold by now. Zidir slithered closer to Ilhan, taking a step from behind N'ebthe to stand more by his side as a fellow admirer of the slave than some master behind his merchandise. "I can tell you, N'ebthe here is the type to often shy away from the boorish buyer, she might not have my eyes but she too shares my appreciation for the company of couth. Such class is, as you know, a rarer quality in slaves these days. Some would feel lesser when faced by such attitude, but is that not simply admitting that they were already small?"<br><br>Some of the other slaves had scurried away a little. They had been told to make space when Zidir was selling and they did. Almost a meter space opened around N'ebthe so that she would stand alone in spotlight. "There is more to her though, than simply grace. Story behind it, oh..." His smile took on an almost innocent shade as if this was actually a fond memory of his. "She is a mystic of Nefasi race in possession of powers, more than the insight you already saw. This one dabbles in spirits and healing. A true shaman whose soul has not been degraded a single grain. It is difficult to measure the value of this."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kuroneko</strong> on <strong>09-03-2015, 01:29:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v622/Jagwaar/Shazadi%201a_zpsql8ohgqw.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Shazadi<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Jinn-Blooded Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Rashid, Open<br><hr><br>“Isn’t that the very definition of poetry?” Shazadi asked, thinking of the picture Rashid painted; the way the winds sang out in the open desert, how they could sigh through the fronds of the palms at an oasis and rustle the fabric of a tent. Those sounds touched her soul, the same way his beautiful words served to caress what remained of her vanity and ego. Many men and not a few women sought to take her to bed for her beauty alone; but Rashid appreciated more than her beauty, and valued more than just the skill Tamarni had gifted her with. On the rare occasions they were in each other’s company, she could simply be herself, and that was worth far more than the coin that now lined her purse. <br><br>“I <em>see</em>,” Shaza purred with a lazy grin as he began to reveal what he had in mind for the way, all whispered in husky, whiskey tones in her ear as they sat huddled together, beard tickling her skin. “Perhaps it will be <em>you</em> begging instead, old friend,” she teased, arching one carefully manicured eyebrow. “Or have you forgotten both my skills and stamina?” <br><br>One quick brush of his cheek against hers was all they could dare in public before he pulled away to urge her to fortify herself with another cup of coffee. Smiling, she raised a hand to call over the capuchin, passing over her empty cup and ordering another before her scurried away. Turning back to Rashid, watching him lounge on the cushions like a lion observing a gazelle. “You should at least have a few more dates, my friend,” she told him, just as Jamal returned with her coffee and jumped away with another of her coins. “After all, you’re going to need your strength.” She eyed him with a knowing expression as she sipped her drink. “I suppose now, we’ll be needing a private bath.”&nbsp; Reaching for a date, she popped it into her mouth and moved closer to Rashid, using him as a pillow as much as the cushions behind them both. <br><br>“I didn’t answer your earlier question. My apologies,” she began. “The Sheikah is not my enemy, nor is her wizir. Are they yours? If Tamarni hadn’t wanted me to go there, I would never have received Fayruz’s summons. The Oasis of dreams is very fertile land with great potential, and the Sheikah has ambitious plans for her people. Plans that some do not care for. The wizir seeks to protect Fayruz, as there have been attempts on her life for her ideas. It would change their way of life. The wizir was terse, but I made no enemies, I assure you.”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Paladin101</strong> on <strong>09-03-2015, 05:39:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/5700000/Kingdom-Of-Heaven-kingdom-of-heaven-5751717-400-225.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Rashid<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>&nbsp; Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Shazadi, open<br><hr><br>"Your skills and stamina are precisely what are making me so ravenous." Was his reply to her tease. "And I look forward to any begging you can force out of me." <br><br>With a laugh he popped up a few more dates and began to slowly chew on them, exhaling happily as Shazadi reclined beside him, pillowing herself against his body. The feel of her soft curves pressed against the harder planes of his body had him wishing they were in a private setting rather than the middle of a coffee shop. It had been too long since he had enjoyed the silken caress of Shazadi's flesh. <br><br>"I have a feeling we both need our strength, tonight should test the limits of our endurance." He predicted huskily and with a hungry smile. "A private bath sounds like an absolutely delightful idea. Should we get clean before or after you fill both our arms with the many and varied purchases that inevitably follow a woman entering a bazaar?" He teased her as he picked up a date and held it to her lips. <br><br>As she spoke towards the Wizir Rashid laughed away her concerns on his account. <br><br>"No, no, she is no enemy of mine. I have managed to make an enemy of only one wizir that I know of, and he lives here in the city. I try to stay out of politics, and just guide any and all to whatever locations they desire across the Dunes. But, sadly sometimes there are those who do not appreciate my charming nature, nor my winning smile." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kuroneko</strong> on <strong>09-03-2015, 06:09:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v622/Jagwaar/Shazadi%201a_zpsql8ohgqw.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Shazadi<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Jinn-Blooded Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Rashid, Open<br><hr><br>“Just as I look forward to hearing them,” Shaza replied, sipping her coffee as a mixture of contentment and anticipation washed over her. “It would not be a night worthy of either of us if it didn’t,” she agreed.<br><br>Shazadi couldn’t help but laugh as he described the shopping habits of most women when confronted with a bazaar such as the one Sha’ib could offer. “Since when have you known me to be concerned with material things?” she asked him, glancing up at Rashid over her shoulder and causing her jewelry to jingle melodiously. “I have only the simple need for foodstuffs to feed myself and any cats that find themselves at my door, incense to burn to please my Lady and perfume for my skin, the better to please myself and those that must endure my presence. That and some oil for my lamps and my needs will be met until She calls me back out into the desert again. So, our time in the bazaar should be short. I say,” she began, running one finger around the rim of her cup, “that we bathe first, and work up an appetite, then we can buy a light lunch to carry home with us as well as what I need, to replenish us before we begin again and then venture out for a more substantial meal later. What say you?” <br><br>Shazadi frowned at the mention of Rashid’s ill fortune with a local wizir, a delicate knitting of her brows. This was something she hadn’t known, though once, long ago, she had foreseen trouble coming his way. “How did such a thing come to be?” she asked him, trying to keep her concern for him out of her voice, and no doubt failing. Wizirs had a way of finding their enemies and making them disappear. “Are you safe here, in the city?” She didn’t like the idea of him risking himself.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Paladin101</strong> on <strong>09-03-2015, 06:41:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/5700000/Kingdom-Of-Heaven-kingdom-of-heaven-5751717-400-225.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Rashid<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>&nbsp; Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Shazadi, open<br><hr><br>"Endure your presence? Shazadi, those around you endure your presence the same as the oasis endures the water at it's heart, we sit around you and stare longingly at the gentle grace of your simple existence, and yearn only to enter your embrace." He replied with a teasing touch of his finger along her chin. He could not get over how at ease Shazadi made him feel, so when he saw news of his problems had caused her worry, he flapped his hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. <br><br>"No man of any sort of moral code can exist in this world without making an enemy or two. A few winters ago I was exploring the sands near the city, and found that the last sand storm had cleared the Dune Sea off from an old temple of Upuaut. I went inside to see what was there, but noted by the tracks in the sand that others had beaten me to this revealed treasure. I roamed the halls of a temple that had been buried from sight, for at least a century based upon the writings upon the walls. And then, at the altar of Upuaut, I found five young men using hammer and chisel to shatter a golden statue of Upuaut,intending to tear it down and melt it for it's gold." He recounted his tale in a calm voice, until he reached the part of the shrine being defaced. His brows knit together and the low rumbling thunder of his old anger showed through in his speech. "I warned them to stop in the name of Upuaut, asking if they did not realize their actions were sacrilege. The oldest lad turned to me and told me his father was a wizir, and he had the power to do whatever he wished, and that he cared not what a sand blasted fool thought of his actions. Then he lifted a spear, and tried to skewer me."<br><br>He turned his face from Shazadi, ashamed at the flashes of anger and hatred that he knew still burned in his eyes and simmered in his heart. He spoke with a tight clenched jaw as he recounted the rest of his tale. <br><br>"The boy had made his last mistake of this life. I killed him with the first pass of my blade, I don't think he even realized I had closed the distance. Three others I killed before they could even properly lift arms to oppose me. Foolish children who had been told they had the right to defy the will of the Gods. The last I told to carry the bodies of his friends back to their homes. I would not have parents weeping over children lost to the sands. A month later, a messenger found me, garbed in the raiment of one of Sha'Ib's Emir's. Apparently the Wizir this boy was the heir to, serves a powerful master. The messenger told me that Wizir Caliph thanked me for the return of his son's body, and as payment for that service, promised me that when he decided I must die, he would ensure that it happened in a manner that left me the chance to defend myself. I have survived two attempts on my life since then. Once in the sands while escorting a caravan from the city, and once inside the walls. So, I am as safe here as I am anywhere Shazadi, do not worry for my life. When Upuaut feels he no longer has cause for me to wander the Dunes, he will take me with him to wander the celestial landscape beside him."<br><br>He tossed back the last of his coffee, and closing his eyes tilted his head back, consciously working to let the anger and disgust drain out from him, to let the calming presence of this intelligent woman beside him fill his mind instead. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kuroneko</strong> on <strong>09-03-2015, 07:49:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v622/Jagwaar/Shazadi%201a_zpsql8ohgqw.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Shazadi<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Jinn-Blooded Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Rashid, Open<br><hr><br>Shazadi opened her mouth to reply to what Rashid said, but for once she was at a momentary loss for words. “Even women sweat. I still smell like the desert,” she finally managed to say, as his finger slipped along the line of her jaw, feeling color rise to heat her cheeks, because this time, there was no need for him to continue to shower her with praise. She was already his for the day. While she knew that all of his compliments had been genuine, this one seemed particularly sincere, uttered with the simple honesty of a true friend. She shifted under its weight, slightly uncomfortable and grateful for the kind words in equal measure. “I’m but a humble priestess,” she replied quietly, “For a Bedu Goddess that holds no sway in this place beyond Her Faithful. I merely am what She has made me and if that pleases you, I am grateful. I thank you for your kindness to me, Rashid.” <br><br>Despite his attempt to downplay the seriousness of the situation with the local wizir, Shazadi wasn’t fooled. As the tale unwound, she became even more concerned for her friend, but she did her best not to show it. She gasped outright at the sacrilege of such wanton destruction of a holy relic, but kept silent as Rashid continued his tale, Seeing it all play out in her head as he described the events thanks to the far reaching nature of her Sight. As he turned away, she felt his shame and anger as palpable things, and reached out to scoop up one of Rashid’s hands in her own, lacing her fingers with his to lend him her silent support as he continued telling the story. It gave her comfort as well. Holding his hand served to remind her that he had survived that fateful day as well as the attempts on his life, that he was here with her now, and that this Caliph had not succeeded in enacting his revenge. So far, the Gods were on his side. But the future was always in flux, even to one such as herself, who could glimpse into its shifting sands. <br><br>“May that be many years from now,” Shazadi whispered. “I apologize Rashid, for bringing up something that causes you such distress.” Lifting his hand, she brought it to her lips and kissed the beck before holding it against her chest and looking towards him, over her shoulder. “Please forgive me.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Paladin101</strong> on <strong>09-03-2015, 17:56:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/5700000/Kingdom-Of-Heaven-kingdom-of-heaven-5751717-400-225.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Rashid<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>&nbsp; Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Shazadi, open<br><hr><br>The press of her lips against his hand was a soothing ointment spread over an open wound. As she held his hand to her chest, he let out a long breath, seeking to expel the tenseness and anger that roiled through him like a coiled serpent in search of prey. He had lived with danger all of his life, devoting himself to traveling across the most inhospitable expanse of land known to man, and never did fear enter into his heart. He faced death with a smile on his face and a laugh floating on the wind, hoping that the notes of his joy would linger long after his mortal body faded from this place. What was the point of living if all you did was try to ensure you kept doing so? Where was the joy in a life not explored? He would not hide away from the dangers that faced him, that was the cowardly act of the city dwellers, building their small fortresses and lining them with defenses as they locked away their treasures and peeked out the shutters of their windows in search of those who would steal what they had. No, death came for all, and he would face it in the open, with a clear and unfearful mind. <br><br>"There is nothing to forgive Shazadi. You are a friend who cared enough to wish to know what dangers threaten me. I know if there were a way for you to help that you would provide it, just as I will always be willing to race across the Dune Sea to come to your defense if ever you called." He said in a softer voice, his eyes still closed as he focused on his breathing, on the swirl of wind going in and out of his lungs. "We each are but traveling lights in a world of darkness, while the beauty of your flame draws admirers who ohh and ah at the dancing of your flame, my candle draws the ire of those who seek to remove the light, and hate it for the joy in it's simple dance. We each have our fate and our roles to play in this life, I do not regret for a moment the actions I have taken in this life. So if holding up my light and forcing the darkness back bears with it a price, well I shall pay that price when the tally comes due. But until then, my flame will dance a little longer, and I shall try to make it burn just a little brighter."<br><br>He opened his eyes with a smile once more as he brought himself back to his center, and sitting upright leaned down to press his forehead to hers in silent thanks for her presence, his hand gripping hers a little tighter for just a moment. <br><br>"Now jewel of the sands, let us not linger of dark memories, I intend to find joy in your company this day, in as many ways as possible." He declared, determined not to let threats on his life throw a dark pall over his day with this rare beauty. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kuroneko</strong> on <strong>10-03-2015, 06:35:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v622/Jagwaar/Shazadi%201a_zpsql8ohgqw.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Shazadi<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Jinn-Blooded Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Rashid, Open<br><hr><br>“Not everyone admires my ‘flame,’ as you suggest,” Shadazi said, speaking softly once Rashid had come back to his center and began to pull away, seemingly himself once more. “I have my fair share of individuals that see me in a less than favorable light, for one reason or another. A fortune gone wrong. A prediction far too right for their liking. Visions that were not favorable, but far too accurate for my own good. You’re not the only one with ones in the city that wish you ill.” <br><br>The mood was growing morose, and Shazadi would not have that on this day, not one sacred to her Lady and especially not when she had found an old friend and now had plans of the most delectable kind to share with him. “But you’re right, enough of dark thoughts,” she said, tugging the corners of her mouth upwards in a smile. “As you said, we have much to look forward to today, and the morning grows late. Come.” Setting her cup on the table before them, she gathered up her skirts in a jangle of tiny bells and coins and rose gracefully to her feet, extending her one elegant hand towards Rashid. <br><br>“The baths await,” Shazadi reminded him. “We can continue our conversation there, or not. Or start one of an entirely different sort, as we please.” Her smile grew invitingly. “Shall we?”&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Paladin101</strong> on <strong>10-03-2015, 09:18:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/5700000/Kingdom-Of-Heaven-kingdom-of-heaven-5751717-400-225.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Rashid<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>&nbsp; Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Shazadi, open<br><hr><br>"Too true Shazadi, forgive me if it sounded like I dismissed your own dangers. You know I have nothing but respect for you." He replied to her as she spoke of her own threats. He was glad now that he was here to spend time with his friend. If anyone was upset at her visions while he was with her, well they would find their blood nourishing the sands. <br><br>As she stood and extended one hand to him, he gripped her hand and flowed upwards in a single graceful motion, kissing her hand on the way up and smiling as he looked down at her. <br><br>"Yes, I look forward to washing your back for you, and anywhere else you may find to be a hard to reach location." He remarked with a chuckle and a ravenous look in his eyes as he settled into place beside her. His hands slid back into place near his belt, his wrists settled upon the hilts of his blades as he walked on the balls of his feet. To the casual observer he would appear to simply be gliding alongside Shazadi with a very arrogant stride, but anyone familiar with swordplay would note how his stride kept him perfectly balanced for sudden violent movement in any direction. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>10-03-2015, 10:55:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcoPfKF.png)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Ilhan<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Djaffir<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers <br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Zidir, Open<br><hr><br>Ilhan neither cared nor worried for attention. To live in the Crimson Fort was to draw enmity and interest wherever one went, and to be invisible was no different than being dead. His tribe may wear masks, but they didn't hide. His name and his house were matters of pride for Ilhan, even at the cost of discovery by a hidden enemy within earshot. If the other Djaffiri knew him, Ilhan did not know him back, and only the Nefasi had his interest - her master not until he spoke again of her shaman powers.<br><br>"It has no value. Such things are blessings of the gods, and not to be traded," he let out in frustration, waiting for the pitch to end. Ilhan did not like what he saw or heard. The market was a terrible place to be for his mood, and beautiful or not he found it difficult to ignore her binds. But behind his mask he looked to be emotionless, like a customer who was unimpressed by Zidir's wares and unlikely to be convinced of any exorbitant price he might name. "But, are you not overwhelmed in this market, where spirits must surely disperse? Would that I could see as you see, in peace and quiet away from all this."<br><br>Ilhan raised his hands to the market all around them, and as his coin pouch jingled he seemed less a customer fit for the piers and instead one of Zidir's more upscale clientèle used to private showings and trades. Even if not, the bustle of this slavers market was no place to hear the voice of the gods, to have it drowned out by the coarse haggling of the other Djaffir and Zidir's merchant beside them. For a moment Ilhan even stepped back, and made to turn as if having lost interest, but he mostly wanted to escape.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Amarlo</strong> on <strong>10-03-2015, 11:14:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/02/cc/7d/02cc7dd8e0d76469ac60fd12421d4095.jpg)[/floatleft]<hr><strong>N’ebthe:</strong><br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Nefasi<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Zidir, Ilhan<br><hr><br><i>”I was born into it. It was painful here for many weeks when first I was brought here but I have since grown accustomed.”</i> She didn't try much more than that to refute him. She wasn't about to make an effort to sell herself to someone that would prefer to act disinterested. If someone truly wanted her they would make an effort to have her, and that was the man she wanted to buy her. A man that would pay her price and in so put up with her limitations. <br><br>That aside, if she were shackled she didn't notice it. Why would someone as blind as she try to run? She'd just end up get into all sorts of trouble that way! Usually the kind that would have her harmed. THe spirits had been kind enough to guide her before but this place was far to busy for her to properly navigate. <br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>10-03-2015, 21:19:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcoPfKF.png)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Ilhan<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Djaffir<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers <br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Zidir, Open<br><hr><br>Ilhan paused, and looked back over his shoulder for a moment. What she said was both fascinating and troubling for two different reasons, and to reconcile them both proved as difficult as walking away from either N'ebthe or his past. He again thought of the Sevim girl, and all the questions that made him hesitate to leave her. And while he did so, the other Djaffir fidgeted uncomfortably, wondering why Ilhan stared at him for so long.<br><br>Finally, unable to resist with his curiosity and indignation tearing him apart, Ilhan touched his mask and pulled it off, revealing his face in profile and a few locks of long hair framing it. He turned, set his grey eyes and unprotected face to N'ebthe, then Zidir, and asked, "born into this gift, or slavery?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sain</strong> on <strong>10-03-2015, 23:08:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/326/c/d/golden_eyes_by_reykat-d87bmu0.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Zidir<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Hadaree<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Ihan<br><hr><br>Zidir fought to maintain his polite facade when told there was a quality in his slaves that was not his to own. He managed to maintain the smile, but grumbled inside at Ilhan's attitude. He nodded, as if admitting the man's opinion even though the incline of head was an empty gesture, that much was apparent at a glance. Zidir let the man and N'ebthe exchange words without interruption. For a moment he considered the man was a lost cause, the disappointment of that was enough to not reprimand the slave on her insolence. If overheard out of context one might have thought it was under his care that she had suffered pain and such rumors could have done untold damage. Not here, Zidir thought while watching Ilhan's back and feverishly searching for words that might make the man stay. <br><br>He had all but given up when the Djaffir turned, unmasking himself. Zidir's eyes found now two dots to stare back into. The grin that had grown faint burst into new life. He took that chance, stepping in to cast one last bait. "Of course she was born with the gift of mysticism. Rare as they are practitioners of the sacred Nefasi art, very few gain powers of any significant measure by practice alone, wouldn't you say so N'ebthe?" His face turned to ask her with an expression that looked genuinely curious. Zidir turned back to Ilhan and continued, "Slavery she entered later, and though the grace remains, of which I am very proud as you know, she is of course familiar with her situation and seems to have come to terms with it." His head tilted and hands rubbed together unconsciously in nervous anticipation of the man's reaction. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Amarlo</strong> on <strong>11-03-2015, 02:51:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/02/cc/7d/02cc7dd8e0d76469ac60fd12421d4095.jpg)[/floatleft]<hr><strong>N’ebthe:</strong><br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Nefasi<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Zidir, Ilhan<br><hr><br>The removal of his mask was an interesting gesture, one that thoroughly stunned her at first, but settled her with an odd curious respect for him after. Many believed that the true reason these Djaffir wore their masks was to conceal their identity not because of their aversion to malevolent magics but because they intended to relieve you of something valuable... In theft. <br><br><i>"It is as he says."</i> She confirmed for both men, not pausing to step forward and reach for the skin he would bare to her. Strangely clean and smooth fingers sought the strong jawline of this strange Djaffir, her nimble touch examining his features in ways her hazed amethyst hues could not. <i>"Such strong convictions."</i> She spoke in a hush, <i>"Why would you bare yourself to something as lowly as a slave and her trader?"</i> <br><br>Why, indeed. For as fogged over as her eyes were they studied him in great detail, tenderly tracing along the lines, wrinkles and scars he had elected to show her - each a telling scripture of the life he had lived. <br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>11-03-2015, 03:30:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcoPfKF.png)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Ilhan<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Djaffir<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers <br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Zidir, Open<br><hr><br>Some relief entered Ilhan, and Zidir could tell from his shoulders loosening, and N'ebthe could tell from his strong jaw relaxing. He rolled his jaw into her touch, surprised but not willing to have her stop. Did slaves normally touch their customers, and did slavers allow it? If she so readily accepted this, then why study him in such detail, even longing. Maybe he was a fool, and she an able partner for her master looking to secure a sale. If he told the Nefasi he would immediately free her afterward, would they both use that against him, and raise her supposed value to have him pay for idealism? Perhaps she cast a spell on him, though she would have tried and succeeded through his mask if she tried. Cradled in his arm, it had no enchantments like was common among Djaffiri masks of such quality. But his eyes were fixed, and his expression hard, as if Ilhan had another mask ready underneath.<br><br>He said nothing to her whisper, but stared and marveled at the color and mist in her eyes. He'd never seen their like, and if she were so talented she'd know his answer anyway. He didn't see her or anyone as lowly to begin with. And if there was one argument to chastise her error, it was that a god had touched her at birth, and no legal fiction or bag of coin was above providence. A flash of greed and curiosity flickered in his eye just then.<br><br>"Ibn Hajar," he called out, turning his handsome face to the slaver at the end of her chain. "I cannot stomach the air here. It's disagreeable to my focus, distracting me from what I wish to see," he explained, glancing back to N'ebthe and up and down her body in a feint as a false customer. His acting was superb, if only because Zidir was right, and she was pleasant to gaze upon from head to toe. "Surely, such a venue diminishes our sense of value. Is there no refuge for a private meeting?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CurvyKitten</strong> on <strong>11-03-2015, 06:39:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/6/6d/Jaguar_by_odysseusut-d8ii81j.jpg/471px-Jaguar_by_odysseusut-d8ii81j.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Imari<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Domandh Khans<br><strong>Location:</strong> Bazaar stalls <br><strong>Day/Time:</strong>Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), noonish<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> OPEN<br><hr><br>The suns heat was bliss, its warmth washed over every relaxed inch of Imari's lazy frame. Her head rested on her forearms as her back soaked up all the heat it could. The warm stone of the roof beneath her reflected it back up. It was that perfect circulation of heat that had practically lulled Imari to sleep as she hid upon one of the shops roofs. She had planned to keep an eye on the grumpy owner, to see if he was really beating the young children that tried to get a small bite of food from him, but as the hours ticked by Imari found herself utterly board and nearly comatose.<br><br>A long yawn slowly came as Imari began to stir, her body arching upward as she pushed her upper body skyward. The long stretch brought a soft purr from deep within her. Imari loved her life, yes it was simple but it was this sort of simple pleasure that made Imari fell lucky. No doubt those in the palace had no idea what such wonderful moments like these could do for a person’s spirit. But that was one of the reasons Imari counted herself lucky. She'd honestly lose her mind if someone locked her away in some gilded cage.<br><br>Slowly Imari moved and stretched her long form twisting this way and that as she woke up her tired muscles. At least she was until the sound of yelling slipped up past the canopies. <strong>"Ohp guess its show time."</strong> she said to herself before peeking over the edge of the building she had chosen to relax on. And as expected the portly old man had one of the kids by the arm while he yelled at his cohorts. The scene was actually quite comical really, the kids tossing rocks as the shop owner while he waved a broom about. Imari would have let it play out if it weren't for the fact he was holding a friend of hers.<br><br>So with quick graceful ease Imari moved, tossing her legs over the wall and lowering her body down to the canopy below. Her weight easily supported as she slid along the thick fabric, rolling onto her stomach so she could peek down at the scene below. It was then a playful idea struck her, after all there was no time like the pleasant to practice her craft. Her eyes focused on the table of goods at the front of the store, or more so on the ground below it, her hand slowly drawing out circles in the air as she spoke the strange words that always haunted her dreams. The earth beneath the right front leg began to soften, allowing the leg to sink deeper into it until the weight of the goods on it became too much. Suddenly the leg gave and fruits began to spill over the dirt walkway. The sounds of excitement coming from the kids combining with the cursing of the shop owner made Imari laugh. The sound filled with mischief as she rolled from the canopy, her body dropping down to the ground without a hint of trouble.<br><br><strong>"Oh my...such a mess!"</strong> she exclaimed and began to pretend to help pick things up, tossing fruit about like some juggling entertainer for the masses. It may have looked as if she were trying to help, but every other bit of fruit was tossed to one of the kids darting about her. <strong>'Oh you rascals! Shoo...go on...shoo!'</strong> she playfully bat at them until they all darted off out of site. <strong>"Well that was a bad bit of luck Sir." </strong>she knelt down to help pick up the last of the tumbled merchandise, <strong>"Such hooligans, always trying to steal my fruits."</strong> the shop owner grumbled as he snatched stuff out of Imari's hands, <strong>"I know, but they are so hungry. Hmm maybe they can help instead of hinder?</strong>" she suggested lightly, <strong>"Bah help those wild things...never!'</strong> the man protested as he tried to put his display back together.<br><br><strong>"Well, now this is just an idea. You can keep fighting with them or maybe...you can get some help around here, dusting, taking orders out, bringing people into your shop. After all what would draw the eye more than some children putting on a show?" </strong>she rambled on slowly hoping the idea would stick enough to help both sides come to a better conclusion, [b]"They'd rob me blind."[/b] he huffed, <strong>"Their already doing that, so why not try something else?"</strong> she asked the old man grumbling and muttering under his breath before heading back into his shop with arms full of goods. <strong>"Ahh well we shall see I suppose." </strong>Imari shrugged and snatched a bit of food up before she began walking down the dirt streets once more, a soft playful smile on her lips and a confident sway to her hips.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kuroneko</strong> on <strong>11-03-2015, 07:25:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v622/Jagwaar/Shazadi%201a_zpsql8ohgqw.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Shazadi<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Jinn-Blooded Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Rashid, Open<br><hr><br>“There’s nothing to forgive,” Shazadi insisted, shaking her head at the idea that he had somehow insulted her when he’d done no such thing. “I meant only to say that we all have adversaries. In this you are not alone.”<br><br>As he took her hand and rose to his feet in one fluid motion, pressing his lips to the back of her knuckles in the process without missing a beat, Shazadi smirked beneath the sheer fabric of her veil as Rashid continued his bold flirtation, growing more familiar as they began their short journey out of the coffeehouse and through the bazaar towards the Crimson Palace. “As I look forward to you washing it <em>for</em> me,” she replied as he settled into place at her side. Hands resting on the pommels of his swords, he cut quite a figure, moving with the easy confidence of a man born to the sword. In contrast, Shazadi moved with an easy sway of her hips and a natural grace born of years walking the shifting dunes. Unlike Rashid, her blades were hidden, but there nonetheless. Anyone seeking to make trouble with her would be in for a surprise. Shazadi was as as skilled with the throwing knives in her sash and the katars in her boots as any man in her tribe.<br><br>The sun had risen higher in the sky while they’d dallied in the coffeehouse and the day was growing warmer. Merchants were beginning to take their midday meals under the colorful canopies as they passed among the crowded aisles, in between the various classes of the city as they sought out the sellers’ wares. Moving closer to Rashid out of desire as much as necessity, Shazadi laced her arm through one of his and leaned against him as they walked, slowing their pace but allowing for more intimacy to continue their conversation. “I shall put my trust in you to make sure that every inch of me is clean,” she said, for his ears alone. In truth, the market was loud enough that her words didn’t carry much further. “And I promise to do the same for you, however long it takes.” Looking up at him out of the corner of her eye, she flashed him a knowing smile. “Tell me, is this your first visit to the Crimson Palace, or have you been a guest of the Lady Adja before?”&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Paladin101</strong> on <strong>11-03-2015, 07:44:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/5700000/Kingdom-Of-Heaven-kingdom-of-heaven-5751717-400-225.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Rashid<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>&nbsp; Bedu<br><strong>Location:</strong> The streets of the bazaar between The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House and the Crimson Palace<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Shazadi, open<br><hr><br>He enjoyed the presence of Shazadi at his side as he moved through the streets of the bazaar. He couldn't deny the fact that he eyed her hips with appreciation as she swayed in front of him a few times, and as she slid closer to him and laced one arm through his, he smiled wolfishly as he enjoyed the feel of her soft body pressed to his. <br><br>"Hmm, I promise to be very thorough. There won't be an inch of your flesh I won't personally inspect to ensure that you are clean enough to be seen in public." He rumbled in return to her whispered statement of trust. "Hmm, no it is my first time visiting. I will be glad to have your personal attention in cleaning me. I fear it could take quite awhile to get the both of us clean."<br><br>Rashid was finding himself more and more excited by the prospect of getting Shazadi alone in a room full of water or steam, and was anxious to reach their destination. He hadn't lain with a woman in too long, and Shazadi was a skilled courtesan whose touch he would never forget. So anxious was he to reach his destination he barely noted the contents of any of the booths and stalls in the bazaar, his only concern was reaching the Crimson Palace as quickly as possible. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sain</strong> on <strong>12-03-2015, 00:05:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/326/c/d/golden_eyes_by_reykat-d87bmu0.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Zidir<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Hadaree<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Ihan<br><hr><br>Indeed it may have seemed strange for a slaver to allow such strong action by the merchandise they were selling, given that the nature of said wares was often expected to be submissive and obedient. Each buyer was unique though and in this case Ilhan seemed more captivated by N'ebthe's forthcoming nature than any of the sweet words that Zidir had tried to slither in his hear. He seemed eccentric for a Djaffir so was it not only natural he would be drawn to search similarly unique servants? He had let the slave exchange with Ilhan before so Zidir allowed it to continue. The other Djaffir would cast a look at them as would some people passing by. For one of the masked ones to reveal themselves in middle of Bazaar was curious enough to bend neck, but for him to be touched by a slave, it was almost magical moment in its eeriness and unfamiliarity. <br><br>Zidir understood the request as reluctance on Ilhan's part to continue standing on the spotlight above the river of crowd. His smile and nod gave away the reply before any words rolled out. "Certainly, that would be possible for you good Ilhan. The building behind us is best I can provide unless you would like to return at a later date to my establishment where I could provide a more thorough reception. It is a storage, part of this platform so the furnishment is unfortunately quite bare." He motioned towards the two story stone building behind them. It was empty and crude in design, indeed lacking most comfort. Zidir yelled Nafi' and few others of his personal slaves orders before returning to the gentleman Djaffir and his interest. "If you would follow me. "He would place a guiding hand on Ilhan's shoulder unless he spotted a twitch or withdrawing reaction from the man. <br><br>Passing N'ebthe he also turned her around with&nbsp; gentle push on the shoulder and pressed her to move with him as well. His smile shined at them both as they entered the deeper shadow of the building. Only light was a mix of pale blue morning light and more vibrant orange of his eyes that spread into the immediate vicinity, giving the empty rooms a strangely warm feeling. Noise of the crowd barely reached the back room. Zidir kept his eyes on Ilhan, asking the man in a friendly tone, "Now then, what is it you would wish to inspect my friend? I must say though, that we cannot allow the slaves to be taken before a sale is made."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Amarlo</strong> on <strong>12-03-2015, 05:37:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/02/cc/7d/02cc7dd8e0d76469ac60fd12421d4095.jpg)</div><hr><strong>N’ebthe:</strong><br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Nefasi<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Zidir, Ilhan<br><hr><br><br>No, slaves were not to touch lest they were asked too. Slaves were not to <i>speak</i> lest they were asked too. Slaves weren't even supposed to make eye contact as a show of their obedient submission. Yet here she was reading they grey of his eyes as her slender fingers mapped out his features. She traced up the curve of his jaw all the way up past the hinge, delicately settling upon that spot beneath his lobes. Four silken digits traced like feathers along his neck, then back into his long dark hair. The spirits spoke to her but she was no fortune teller nor mind reader. She knew well enough of what his told her, it did not even have to speak of its transparency to her, but the iron clad mask he left over his mind was something she looked forward to peeking past in the future. <br><br>She released him once he directed his attention to the man that currently held her 'deed' and remained silent for as long as they spoke amongst one another. She did not resist as she was turned and guided towards the storage facility he held behind them and seemed deeply lost in thought at that point. Was this the man she'd been waiting for? Was it for him that she turned her nose to any other? Already her soul felt aflutter but it was an excitement often hard to read. She hadn't felt this excited in quite some time. It felt new and fresh, like an adventure she needed to experience - a treasure map she needed to sell as a meager sketch to Zidir. She did not need him to realize the worth of this transaction to herself or this promising patron. <br>&nbsp;<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>12-03-2015, 07:10:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcoPfKF.png)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Ilhan<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Djaffir<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers <br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Zidir, Open<br><hr><br>Once N'ebthe relinquished her blind touch on his face, and turned to follow Zidir, Ilhan put his mask back on and allowed himself to blush. As long as she held his face, she held his attention almost to the point that he didn't hear much of anything from Zidir, or the market all around him. Ilhan thought he'd only hold a gaze academically, curiosity for the rare workings of the gods being enough to turn him away from his overwhelming discomfort in the slave piers. There was much to say about her eyes, and however true it was to say the Nefasi was blind, he also felt her see straight through him, and even in his finery he felt as naked as her - which didn't help him resist a flush to his cheek either. The market pushed Ilhan to see the Nefasi, N'ebthe, as a slave and commodity. But he was no eunuch, nor so dishonest to not appreciate what is worthy of it.<br><br>When Ilhan woke up, he was in a strange place, and looked up at the lonely shafts of light that filtered into the worn building from above. Homely, but then he felt even this short a distance from the shouting and the inhumanity behind him. When he turned back to the two before him, he thought quickly on what he wished to see, but so as not to seem too eccentric or even disinterested - Zidir still full of allusion to a primal, obvious point for a beautiful slave for sale - Ilhan folded his arms and bought time with a simple request.<br><br>"Would she allow us the honor to gaze upon more than she has?" he asked boldly, not in fact uninterested in N'ebthe's physique. But again he could not demand this of her, or have Zidir force her wrap from her shoulders. He saw her will strain at her shackles and chains earlier with her touch on his cheek, and if he wished to see anything else today besides the world through her eyes, then it was that freedom of will.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Amarlo</strong> on <strong>12-03-2015, 12:19:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/02/cc/7d/02cc7dd8e0d76469ac60fd12421d4095.jpg)</div><hr><strong>N’ebthe:</strong><br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Nefasi<br><strong>Location:</strong> Storage area, Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Zidir, Ilhan<br><hr><br><br>Would she disrobe what little currently clung to her? The Nefasi had never been one for modesty even amongst the female. She felt neither devalued nor exposed like this; as a matter of fact some of the rituals of her practice required nudity. Many even believed their purest form existed when naked.. It was one of the many reasons why mating was not simply a means for procreation amongst her people but a true bonding and sharing of one’s whole self. It was divine, sacred – a true show of devotion for one another. Their own bodies were every bit as pivotal as the masks the Djaffir constantly wore.&nbsp; <br><br>Touch was a means for exploration, the flesh was a map of the spirit within and how it had formed. That did not meant they were a monogamous race either – not everyone felt the same. Especially those that did not experience the world as she did. There was a sensuality behind it for her that was hard to describe and while she felt obligated to return his own gesture – the removal of his mask – she also did not want to chance angering her handler. <br><br>A glance was passed towards Zidir. It was clear she held no true fear of him but she understood well enough that her future was in his hands and he could easily decide her future lie somewhere much less interesting… And far more uncomfortable. She’d already taken many risks as it was, she wasn’t going to push her luck. <br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sain</strong> on <strong>13-03-2015, 12:42:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/326/c/d/golden_eyes_by_reykat-d87bmu0.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Zidir<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Hadaree<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Ihan<br><hr><br>It was going all so well again. Zidir beamed of only one emotion and it was something between happiness and greed; his favorite. He seemed almost theatrical in every little shift in pose and encouraged N'ebthe to follow Ilhan's request with a wild waving motion that really served no purpose. Oh this would be cause for celebration, he thought. One could really not have hoped for a buyer more promising after months of fruitless search. <br><br>He had wished the woman would take Ilhan's hint as good as his own word, but noticed a moment's hesitation in her look and spoke to diffuse it. "You may oblige to the man's request at your wish N'ebthe." The warm light of his eyes turned to illuminate Ilhan as he continued. Words came out almost as whispers with a hint of tease in them. "Would you like to proceed perhaps? Investigate her beauty from up close."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Amarlo</strong> on <strong>13-03-2015, 19:25:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/02/cc/7d/02cc7dd8e0d76469ac60fd12421d4095.jpg)</div><hr><strong>N’ebthe:</strong><br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Nefasi<br><strong>Location:</strong> Storage area, Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Zidir, Ilhan<br><hr><br><br>Would she honor them? It was a comfort to know she had the illusion of a choice. So she would meet the two half way. The wisps of cloth that clung to her shoulders were brushed aside, allowing them to drift from her arms and down the gracious bend of her waist. The semblance of a top quickly became a belt that hugged around her wide, supple hips and left little of her upper half to the imagination. It would become plainly clear that her eyes were not the only gift she’d assumed from the divine and they’d seen fit endow her a physique just as every bit as lovely as her essence. <br><br>Silky smooth mocha-caramel licked the swell of her breasts, each a large handful but just small enough to retain a perky elasticity that was rare among women of her age and stature. Her stomach wasn’t a mere plain of existence but beautifully toned by years of walking and horseback. Women were known for their hourglass shape but hers was nearly a cello. The lower half of her body was left as scantily clad as it had been the first moment he saw her and she made no move to disrobe further. He asked for more not all, yes? <br><br>All the while her spirit caressed and wound with his, her head giving a subtle tilt as her shoulder rolled back in presentation. <i>”Does this vessel please you?”</i> A slender brow lifted. <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>13-03-2015, 20:34:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcoPfKF.png)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Ilhan<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Djaffir<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers <br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Zidir, Open<br><hr><br>He had his question, but it slipped away right when Zidir suggested a close inspection. And just as Ilhan reached out to catch his errant thought N'ebthe decided to reply with a slow disrobing. All thinking ceased with his breath, held anxiously in wait as the Nefasi shamaness blessed him with her other set of divine orbs, her elbow and waist catching her fallen slip to deny any further reveal. Then he let go a soft sigh, and could breathe again by the grace of some gentle presence near him. With a slow nod to Zidir, he boldly stepped forward and let his body take charge while his mind scrambled for a single question lost among thousands.<br><br>Standing before N'ebthe, Ilhan naturally imposed his size and presence upon her. His cool gray eyes shone dimly through the slits of his mask, and his breath cascaded down onto her bare chest. Ilhan wisely kept his arms behind his back, wisely avoiding any sudden impulse but also broadening his chest and giving him an air of confidence. But while his arms were restrained, his mouth unchained idly formed verse to commemorate the moment.<br><br><div align="center"><em>... your breasts speak seven tongues,<br>and I was made to listen to them all.</em></div><br>Finally, he was at complete ease, the quick verse leaving him with a giddy smile underneath his mask. And right then he found the words he'd been looking for, and let his eyes crawl up from her bosom back to her eyes. "What can you see beyond these walls," he began, then shaking his head wanting to hear nothing of the market outside. "What can you see between, and beneath our feet?" If she could see through his mask, then Ilhan had to wonder.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Amarlo</strong> on <strong>14-03-2015, 10:41:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/02/cc/7d/02cc7dd8e0d76469ac60fd12421d4095.jpg)</div><hr><strong>N’ebthe:</strong><br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Nefasi<br><strong>Location:</strong> Storage area, Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Zidir, Ilhan<br><hr><br>N’ebe knew the ways of men but even had she not she wouldn’t have needed to see past his mask to know his thoughts. She also knew that no one would buy a hen if she handed out all her eggs as samples first. For as Chaste as she had been all her life she observed well enough the rituals between man and woman, and in so liked to think she knew how to reel a fish in despite her inexperience. His presence loomed over like the shade of an Acacia tree – a welcoming escape from the suns’ heat coupled with the unnerving awareness of sharp thorny flesh just inches away at the same time. It drew an unwilling shiver down her spine, keenly aware of the predatory prowess a man held – especially at such height differences. Yet there was something <i>more</i> there, the way her spirit brushed and wound with his at their closer proximity. It would seem she was curious about him on more than just the corporeal level. <br><br><i>”Eight.”</i> She murmured, reaching for his jaw once more but this time with an intent to guide onto her level and even lower still. If she was met with no resistance she would lead his ear to rest at the valley between her breasts, giving him as much time as he needed to hear the pitter patter of that eighth language beating steadily against her chest. <i>”If all is known then there leaves nothing to explore.”</i> She explained the wisdom of her years with an innocent coo more befitting a child. <br><br><i>”I see the shade of the hollows, the bends of a rigid snake of black winding beneath my wiggling toes.”</i> And those toes wiggled pointedly beneath her. She would allow him to rise at his discretion but did not seem to be in any hurry for him to do so. <i>”It does not move, there is no life.”</i> At least when it came to the corridors beneath her, she could only see within a certain range.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sain</strong> on <strong>14-03-2015, 20:07:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/326/c/d/golden_eyes_by_reykat-d87bmu0.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Zidir<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Hadaree<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Ihan<br><hr><br>It seemed like there would be little doubt of whether or not she would be bought at this point, or at least Zidir hoped that the Djaffir would by now be far too invested in this slave. He needed do noting but observe and that only because it was custom. Even if he did not see Ilhan as the type to steal a slave under his nose nor N'ebthe as one to run away from her lawful owner, there was no telling if they would engage in carnal pleasure. There had been occasions in Zidir's youth when he had let customers inspect slaves in private only to find his most valuable maidens alone and violated in a room where the open window had been only hint of the would be buyer's whereabouts. <br><br>Zidir slowly slid from Ilhan's field of vision so as to create an illusion of privacy. As much as he could he shrunk his presence and simply leaned against the wall from where he watched the exchange of the two unfold. Everything was good, but something about the two made him feel out of place. Somewhere within even Zidir could not deny that N'ebthe did not - despite her chains - seem like a slave. It was more like he was watching two free people of very curious origins in a meeting to which he had no right to attend.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>15-03-2015, 06:40:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcoPfKF.png)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Ilhan<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Djaffir<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers <br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Zidir, Open<br><hr><br>Ilhan certainly smiled in amusement, though that wasn't obvious so long as he kept his mask on. He could easily fight her, but the Djaffir had nothing to fear from her hand on his jaw, slipping under his mask, or her bosom when she pulled his ear against it. Through the slits of his mask she could feel his breath growing hot against her bare breasts, just as his ears did when they brushed her dark skin. N'ebthe was charming, and a bold spirit, and her company he found fascinating thus far, even if they weren't alone. Over his shoulder Zidir must be watching, waiting to step in if his hand moved to her chest, or to his coin purse ready to make a deal.<br><br>In the end, this is all it could be. She was a slave, and not his or hers to decide what could happen next. Ilhan put a gloved hand on her clothed hip, and stood up straight again. He looked away from N'ebthe, not ashamed but in thought. He could buy her, and set her free. But if Zidir had anything to say, and he likely would, her price would almost ruin him before he even began. And to suddenly free a slave who admits so freely to accepting her bondage, Ilhan would only set her up to fall back into slavery.<br><br>But her gift was fascinating, and if she spoke the truth then she'd be invaluable to him should he brave the city's depths. Ilhan cupped her cheek finally, unable to resist holding her bright, clouded gaze steady for a moment when he looked back to her, and then he asked.<br><br>"Come work for me." Ilhan turned to Zidir, too, and asked, "Let her earn an income, in return for her eyes when i should need their foresight." If he bought her, he'd have to keep her to protect her, neither of which he could afford or stomach for long. But he could pay her for good work, allow her to remain with Zidir, who did not seem to mistreat her - his second purpose in asking to see her body. And perhaps, one day, he could light a spark in her to buy her own freedom with her own money - to want it herself. Ilhan didn't know if it was custom in Sha'ib to allow a slave to work and earn for themselves, but he hoped this would not matter to Zidir - a portion of her earnings would likely go to him in any case.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Amarlo</strong> on <strong>15-03-2015, 12:02:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/02/cc/7d/02cc7dd8e0d76469ac60fd12421d4095.jpg)</div><hr><strong>N’ebthe:</strong><br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Nefasi<br><strong>Location:</strong> Storage area, Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Zidir, Ilhan<br><hr><br>N’ebthe certainly was no ordinary slave. She was not born into slavery nor was she brought up around it. Yes, she’d been aware it existed but her people thrived off of freedom and would never go so far as to force supreme obedience from anything. At most they asked for aid or cooperation and that was what she did here. She did not consider herself a slave of any of these people but merely a cooperator. It would be pointless to be needlessly defiant over certain things – many of the things she was ‘asked’ to do would not kill her nor taint her practice and thus far she had refused anything that would. Her obvious ‘disability’ had at least gained her some pity where others would have been instantly struck down for their insubordination. <br><br>&nbsp;Rose wine peaks pebbled at the fan of his humid breath, her breasts perking into two near perfectly mirrored mounds. He’d hear the soft intact, the sharp way her chest swelled with new air filling her lungs at the cascading sensation that tickled her sensitivity. A strong hand braced her hip and she found herself already savoring the way each digit molded along her flesh, instinctively leaning into his grasp all the more. She didn’t quite understand it but already she felt a strange connection with the Djaffir, one that continued to strengthen without rhyme or reason. It reminded her of the pitcher plants, luring their pray in with a sweet promise of honey – there was no malice, just danger and this situation felt the same. She just was not entirely sure what kind of danger was there – or if there even was any.<br><br>Regardless she leaned into the caress of her cheek, resisting the urge to close her eyes as he studied their unpolished charoite depths. His close proximity allowed her a place of focus she hadn’t the privilege of previously – suddenly his face was not just an odd mesh of golds. There was a vertical split for his mouth and nose, and through two horizontal hollows there was a pair of striking grey eyes. For once her gaze gained focus and narrowed up to him, locking their gazes in silent analysis of what luster she could now witness. <br><br>For a moment she had been lost in the detail she could see and almost missed his suggestion. Shock marred her angular features, completely taken off guard by his unorthodox proposal as she was sure Zidir was just as stunned – perhaps even amused. Who knew? She found it interesting and promising even if she did not exactly understand commerce, she did at least understand trade. She wasn’t sure whether Zidir would go with such a transaction – to be paid over time? Had slaves ever bought their freedom? If they had she was uneducated in its processes. She didn't even know how to reply... <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sain</strong> on <strong>15-03-2015, 22:58:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/326/c/d/golden_eyes_by_reykat-d87bmu0.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Zidir<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Hadaree<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Ihan<br><hr><br>The slave was all but sold, Zidir thought as the man caressed the nefasi beauty in the gentlest manner. He noticed her reaction in response. It roused a pleasant sort of feeling inside Zidir to think that one of his slaves would find a home they liked. It was in his philosophy an act of great kindness to so guide people to meet. Slaves were a part of family though whether as important as a child or spouse or on the same level as a dog all depended on the master. He had expected any moment the man to make a price offer. The offer that came caught him by bit of a surprise. Although Zidir let little of it appear on his face it was readable in the pause in conversation that came from his thought. <br><br>He considered for a moment, Zidir lifted himself from the wall and let his crossed arms open up. The hands moved to his speech, captivating attention almost as strongly as the piercing glow of his eyes or the playful and now assertive tone. "It is a most unusual request. I understand then that you do have desire to make this transaction, but perhaps now is not a good time financially hmm?" He paused for a moment to stroke his smoothly shaved dark chin as if there was something else he had to ponder on, in truth it was only to make Ilhan feel slightly uncomfortable or on the edge as he would wait for the real answer. "I am not thoroughly against an arrangement where the slave is not sold at once, but paid for gradually, but there are a few complications in this and more so in your particular offer... To be sure, a slave can own property if the master grants her to and money of course. It is not an unheard of practice for a slave owner to lease their own in such manner. However... you understand that I am a slave trader by trade and not a leaser. I wish to find my boys and girls a home that will suit them and get the deserved compensation. I am hesitant dabble in risks that are involved in letting mine roam the city freely."<br><br>It seemed like all but straight refusal, but Zidir was not quite done. "But perhaps, we could find the right terms... that is of course if N'ebthe is willing to take such risk." Zidir gave the dark woman a friendly glance, but the light that twinkled in his gaze was nefarious. It turned to illuminate Ilhan. "If you enter a binding contract with me that guarantees that you will within the year have paid enough for what I would ask up front, I will allow&nbsp; you to, for additional compensation paid separately each time, pick her up from my pits and use her as your this employment of yours requires. The sum I will keep moderate, considering your current monetary situation, but will scale it with the time you are planning to rent her services. If upon inspection I find any harm on her, or Gods forbid she does not return. I will have to ask of course for full compensation immediately. If you wish to pay her a salary in addition, I shall allow it of course, and not a dinar will be taken from N'ebthe's personal earnings to cover her living costs. Such will be included in each rent payment."<br><br>Zidir mentioned some numbers. The overall cost of N'ebthe spread over the year was not by far worst of it. The cost of each rent was, while seemingly small still significant enough to make anyone not swimming in gold think hard on each occasion. A day from sunrise to sunset was temptingly cheap, but the cost increased by night and day and by weeks to almost ridiculous sums.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>16-03-2015, 02:28:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcoPfKF.png)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Ilhan<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Djaffir<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers <br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Zidir, Open<br><hr><br>The longer Zidir took to say no, if he'd say it at all, the more certain Ilhan grew of his proposal taking root. N'ebthe was more honest, her face open and bright with interest and wonder. Had anyone ever suggested it to her, or had she always been treated as commodity? There were slaves who produced value, and then there were those like N'ebthe - beautiful and exotic - who were <em>of</em> value. Ilhan had always thought fondly of the former, who saw in themselves a way to bargain for their own freedom. One of his personal tutors had bought his own freedom from his father in return for teaching Ilhan verse and natural science. That man, even in his late eighties, lived fully every day, animated with dreams of earning manumission honorably.<br><br>N'ebthe was not that kind of slave. Not yet. He could only imagine, but eyes like hers must have meant a life determined by law or fate, and being sold to slavers hadn't changed this in the slightest. She was born with gifted eyes, and had to be a mystic. She was graceful and tantalizingly beautiful, and so had to be property. Whether as a free wife or slave concubine, the ways of Sha'ib determined she had no other way. Maybe to Zidir she had no better way - far worse could await N'ebthe. But Ilhan refused that. Maybe a week to himself had hardened him on what he could do versus what he should, and what he should do was show her a better way.<br><br>Ilhan huffed audibly, protesting even the suggestion of financial difficulty. If he wished he could buy her on the spot, and spend the rest of his life comfortably supporting her as his slave. But what he should do is reject this and his offer outright, in Upuaut's name and in the name of fair trade. The deal was thievery! Ilhan ran through the calculations and came up angrier each time. He pays for N'ebthe over a year, paying more for just the permission to ask her to work (he could not force her out of conscience). And then he pays N'ebthe, whose wages could not be spent to buy her own freedom from Zidir, but from Ilhan. Were he any other man he could recoup his wage from N'ebthe, but he wasn't. If she was his, he'd free her without needing any payment.<br><br>He'd pay twice over, and N'ebthe would never actually earn her freedom. It was simply another deal between two masters humoring her with play money. And Ilhan would be trapped buying a slave over, little by little, and praying forgiveness for every moment. The proposal was vexing, and his body idled by letting his hand roam from her hip and over N'ebthe's stomach gently. The answer was simple, and yet not, but what sort of merchant could he claim to be without haggling? Ilhan stepped aside and turned N'ebthe to look at Zidir with him, like his partner more than anything less. The contract should be between the three of them, not just a master and buyer.<br><br>"Instead, a contract to pay her full price in the event of disappearance or damage only. For the time spent in my service, I pay her a fair wage that she may use toward any end of her choosing," he began, emphasizing her choice becoming a part of this written contract. "But for the time spent in my company... what I would pay to you in compensation, you waive as payment to me for <em>my</em> service. Allow me to become her tutor in poetry and courtly manners, and teach her verse from every corner of the civilized world. I acquire her gift, she my knowledge and coin, and you receive her back more gifted - and more valuable - after every night. In lieu of a promise to pay her full price by the year's end, I relinquish any right to claim her as my purchase should another customer wish to acquire her. Any risk falls to me completely if the deal is broken." And all advantage falls to Zidir - if he considered it, N'ebthe whom he was forced to sell here on the piers, after proper instruction, could be better presented to the private homes and courts of merchant or royal princes. If, that is, she didn't earn enough to buy her freedom first.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Amarlo</strong> on <strong>16-03-2015, 03:28:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/02/cc/7d/02cc7dd8e0d76469ac60fd12421d4095.jpg)</div><hr><strong>N’ebthe:</strong><br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Nefasi<br><strong>Location:</strong> Storage area, Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Zidir, Ilhan<br><hr><br>Poor N'ebthe, she was lost on this whole ordeal now. When it came to bargaining she was more used to dealing with trade... Like two chickens and a rooster in exchange for the aid of the spirits in conceiving a child... Not shiny metals in exchange for people. She tried to pay attention and tried as she might to understand just what they were trying to do but it all just went over her head. She didn't like feeling like a child here but this certainly reminded her of those moments long ago where she'd been lost on the conversations of adults.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sain</strong> on <strong>17-03-2015, 23:08:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/326/c/d/golden_eyes_by_reykat-d87bmu0.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Zidir<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Hadaree<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Ihan<br><hr><br>The smug grin did not flinch between any other expression from there on. Zidir felt as if in perfect control, he had determined Ilhan's interest in N'ebthe to be genuine and beyond simple need for a slave to be used for pleasure or manual labor. He was interested in her as a person and that was the best scenario to play in or so it would be, yet he claimed he would not want to purchase her. Zidir shook his head. "That is quite an offer... I will make only one clarification here. As you relinquish your right to her, likewise the ownership will not transfer to you even in the case that she is injured and you are forced to compensate for such. It is a small thing, but as you understand I cannot be too careful with men who have the wits to exploit holes in contracts, not that I do not trust an honorable Djaffir such as yourself so please take no offence from it. I shall allow N'ebthe to earn pay and for her to use it as she wishes. If this agrees with you, I shall produce us a written contract between all participants." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>18-03-2015, 05:34:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcoPfKF.png)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Ilhan<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Djaffir<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers <br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Zidir, Open<br><hr><br>Ilhan's fire began to cool, and his hand on N'ebthe slowly fell away as he retreated behind his mask and into his own thoughts. With a contemplative fist touching his chin he very quickly ran through line after line, possibility after possibility, and calculated all risks between them both. His blood ran cold, but unexpectedly his heart was beating fast. This unexpected dealing had set him on fire, and despite its spontaneity and scale he supposed he needed this to help clear his mind and leave behind what the Nefasi had seen weighing down his spirit.<br><br>With a steady breath, he slowed his tempo almost to a standstill before again taking hold of his mask and pulling it off. His blush, his anger, and his exhilaration had passed, leaving just a stoic, handsome face. Should he agree to the added stipulation, Ilhan would take on substantial risk should anything happen to N'ebthe under his care. However, he had no interest in owning her as his slave. Ilhan turned and looked over his shoulder at the dark-skinned elven beauty wondering what she thought, but could tell they'd left her behind just now with their negotiations.<br><br>"Then let us meet again later, perhaps tomorrow evening. By then our affairs should be settled and we may discuss and finalize this contract. Where shall I find you then?" he asked, figuring this would be enough time for the both of them to ready assets as well as for N'ebthe to fully understand what they had settled upon.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sain</strong> on <strong>18-03-2015, 13:48:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/326/c/d/golden_eyes_by_reykat-d87bmu0.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Zidir<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Hadaree<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Ihan<br><hr><br>Zidir nodded, his eyes closed with the pleased smile for a moment dimming the light of the room to only that little morning glow which reached its depths. It brightened once more as he raised his gaze again. "Tomorrow it is then. My personal establishment resides on the street of scarab on the eastern side of Sha'ib. It is easy to find as the street is mostly empty bar from a few smaller houses. I shall produce an contract by then for you to read over. I must say Ilhan, there is a hint of disappointment in me despite this deal offering so much for us all. Men with your view of slaves make the best owners I've found, yet few have the assets to own one." Details had been honed to finality now and Zidir could let his front slip. The arrangement was weird, and while he himself could not understand what sort of madness inspired the people that saw slavery as a bad thing, he could find himself sympathizing with the idea that they needed to be treated well and with some measure of dignity. Afterall, Zidir's best friends and lovers consisted solely of his private slaves. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>18-03-2015, 22:11:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcoPfKF.png)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Ilhan<br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Djaffir<br><strong>Location:</strong> Slave piers <br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> N’ebthe, Zidir, Open<br><hr><br>A person has no owners, only lovers and enemies. The Djaffir kept his thoughts to himself, though he wore them on his expression of cold indifference to Zidir's last attempt to coax him into a sale. The transaction would have been simpler, no doubt. But while he may one day grieve over this contract, he'd never regret his choice. Ilhan was of house Aricanli and his word was his oath was his life. A thirst for coffee was long forgotten, and instead he quenched his tongue on a deal, and his eyes on a strange Nefasi with far-sight.<br><br>"Tomorrow then," he replied simply, deciding firmly he'd be there. Ilhan turned, and to N'ebthe he repeated, "Tomorrow." The Djaffir took her hand in his and lifted her fingers to his lips to kiss. He composed his farewell verse with the word in mind, and savored the mystery of the world through her eyes for a moment longer.<br><br><div align="center">"If my belief is true<br>And my repute is fair,<br>For what is past and through <br>I do not have a care.<br><br>Since yesterday is gone, <br>Tomorrow naught I know <br>If I shall look upon, <br>Why should I trouble so?"</div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Sha'ib: City of Mazes - Bazaar (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Amarlo</strong> on <strong>19-03-2015, 18:24:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/02/cc/7d/02cc7dd8e0d76469ac60fd12421d4095.jpg)</div><hr><strong>N’ebthe:</strong><br><strong>Race/Culture:</strong> Nefasi<br><strong>Location:</strong> Storage area, Slave piers<br><strong>Day/Time:</strong> Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Zidir, Ilhan<br><hr><br>If she couldn't see it for herself the general vibe of the room would have told her enough on how begrudging this whole ordeal was between the two. Something wasn't quite right and she made a mental note to have a conversation with one of Zidir's more educated acquisitions. Most slaves she had thought would be uneducated and unable to read much like herself but it had surprised her to know that someone as skilled as a scribe could become a slave should they not repay debts owed. It left her to wonder if this whole thing was a good idea. She would have to confer with the spirits if nothing else. <br><br>The Nefasi was drawn from her thoughts as her would be purchaser drew her fingers to his lips in a kiss, causing the woman to jump in surprise. She'd never experienced such a gesture and while hands could be both scared and vile to her, the gesture of kissing one's fingers was a show of more than simple appreciation to her kind. It was an intimacy she hadn't previously been privileged. She found a smile tugging at her rose wine colored lips, becoming quite fond of his prose. <br><br><i>"Would it not be fair to assume you'd not despair you you not a care to beware?"</i> She grinned cheekily, her tongue peeking out between her teeth at the corner of her lips. The mischief behind the smile reached all the way to her eyes, wrinkling their corners with their twinkling glow. <i>"Tomorrow."</i> She nodded, leaving forward to touch his knuckles to her forehead in a gesture of good parting. <br><br>&nbsp;<br><br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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