AnAdventurousIntroductionToLeilm part 8

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11/13/2002 - date gamed

(372yp)

Afalar's memory of the events during the 27 - 52nd of Zaral'a'mazi.

28th -- Went to the horse races.

29th -- Spent the day alone in the city.

36th -- On the darkest night of the season, the Sru'haro household was broken into by a group of 3. They were interupted coming out of the wine cellar by a guard, who was promptly slain. In their haste to leave one of the thieves dropped a note which Sjer got a glance at by bieng one of the first on the scene, woken by the commotion. On the note was sketched a picture of a wine bottle label that looked similar to the labels on the Pract'la wine.

38th. Was out at a bar with Sjer and Zali when a bar fight broke out. Trying to get out of the place, I suffered a mild concussion when I was smacked over the head with a chair. At least we didn't have to pay for our drinks!

41st -- Went to the horse races and came back with a smile.

44th -- Went out into the city and came back with another smile and gave both Sjer and Zali 40 drops each from fencing the gold spoon.

51st -- Was out at a bar with Sjer and Zali. Much less eventful.

Spent the 33rd, 41st, 44th in the city.

Zali'haro's memory of those days

In the days since having my ass kicked by giant rats, I have ventured into the city to meet warriors like myself. I hung around the stadium and talked up the stable master who let me ride my own horse around the track to keep in shape and to show off her great lineage. My contacts in the horse racing circuit have been built up and I feel moderately comfortable drinking with two other horseback riders named Arif Nar Voliraji and Eliza Imi Var'lem. I sang very high praise for their horses, and they returned the favour for my steed and riding ability as well. I have asked the stablemaster of the stadium to enroll me in junior horseback races but at the time he said no. After a pause, he added, "but stick around and perhaps the next time you ask a recent cancellation might allow you to join in on the fun." Nevertheless, I have lost and won a few drops in the betting.

I have attempted to make a name for myself with my peers at the Ta'im'ielm, I have taken part in a few friendly contests and have attended a number of meetings. Generally I kept silent. I showed up primarily to prove I take my post seriously, and also to ask around about finding some more bodyguarding employment, though nothing has panned out yet. Because I'm unsure about my current master's stand on outsourcing my services, I have not aggressively pursued other work. I met a fellow recent inductee named Cali Ail Fafra who agreed to meet me and my jockey friends at a tavern for drinks one night. The jockeys laughed that he and I would be better suited for gladiatorial combat involving horses than just riding in the races. We agreed.

Overall, I have spent my time rubbing shoulders with the people whose jobs I hope to someday have for myself. I have tried to show my respect and earn some in the process by proving my aspirations stem from common ideals.

Sjer's memory of the 27th to the 52nd.

I have spent no small amount of time at the stalls of the wine merchants in the White Market. By now everyone there should know that I am of the Sru'haro household and have the ear of the main purchaser in suggesting wines.

I also have spent at least 5 solid days in the New Market attempting to learn the arrangements of power there as well as the names of the more colourful players. I have done this in disguise, always the same disguise. I am attempting to create a persona of a country degenerate who wishes to curry favour with the big city crowd. I put myself forward as one with no skills and precious little intelligence. I am willing to take a certain amount of abuse in this role to play it convincingly. I am quick to laugh at all the wrong times and drop names of people I have heard about but never met as if they were close friends of mine. My name for this will be Crave'en and I will proudly call Ahashaj my homeland. If I can give that Alm a bad name in the process then I will have succeeded doubly. I will dress in the clashing colours of orange and light green, but both will be muted with dirt. My target for contacts will be two individuals with stalls at either end of the market. One is a seller of knives and silverware, judging from the mismatched wares it is obvious he is a small-time fence. He is name is Yamen. He is someone with precious little friends and is willing to put up with such an obnoxious character as myself. The other is a charlatan mystic named Prupumara. She attracts few customers and is appreciative of any food I bring along. Her tent moves around in the market so as to avoid trouble. I doubt she is a paying customer of the Water Blades, but her ears reach places that mine never will and her tongue is loose. I am always seen arriving from the direction of the south so as to have anyone believe I stay in the poor quarters of the Isle of the Dead.

As of the 36th I am on the case of the wine theft. I ask to see the note in more detail to see if there are clues other than a picture of the Pract'la wine. I keep my ears open in the New Market for anyone talking of Sru'haro cellars.

This is the 53rd day of Spring. Over breakfast a small note is delivered requesting us to meet L'talas in the wine cellars. We finish up and head downstairs.

The cellars are full of the usual barrels and casks. L'talas is sitting with an open bottle of wine awaiting us.

"Welcome to the real wealth of this place. I feel remiss I haven't given you the chance to see this before," he says to Afalar and Zali. "This is a good place to think."

While prompting Sjer for any information about the robbery, Sjer manages to get L'talas to say that the Pract'la wine was returned to Pract'la.

L'talas then introduces our next assignment. "Yesterday, in haste, an informant brought me this paper."

He hands us a note which reads:

"It is time you provide us with your answer. This should show you that we are serious. The longer you delay in responding the more peices we send. You will throw the race. Many lives, yours included, depends on it. Put your answer into in the Tiral'ara Pir'ulra prayer bowl during on Volir'omor Vu'caj'om after dusk before the white moon is new.

Jezeral"

Torazi Ozamar was the jockey it was given to. The stains on the note are blood. He runs with the stable Tasil Zor'iris. It appears that the note was wrapped around a piece of flesh.

L'talas is not concerned whether or not the jockey is under duress. He wants to see if this is an opportunity for leverage. Perhaps Sru'haro can use this to our benefit. He wants to know who is behind this threat, what the intent is, what the reasons are. It may just be money, but it could be more.

"I want a situation at the end which we can influence to the best interest of this house. Whether that is putting someone in our debt, or something more immediate."

When asked about the details L'talas tells the following:

A cleaning woman who works at the stables found the note near a fireplace.

There are nine major racing stables. This is one of the smaller ones, and this is their star jockey.

Pir'ulra is a temple and Tiral'ara is the name of the temple.

Back in Sjer's room, we finish the bottle of white wine given us by L'talas and attempt to figure the angles.

We assume that if the jockey shows up at this temple, he will be putting a yes into the bowl. Who would show up to say, no.

Zali'haro tells Sjer and Afalar some racing background.

It turns out that there is one other jockey that could win the long distance crown if the jockey Torazi does not cross the finish line. That jockey is named Lajas Corimalir.

The top jockey was Caraj Ari'mozor from Tasil Ilaram. The second jockey was Fa'lar Tajir of Tasil Miziras. These two are both injured. The first one has a leg infection of some type. The second one got bucked off and trampled while training a new horse because his regular horse died. The third in line is our jockey under duress, the 4th man, Lajas, is of Tasil Valimar.

We decide to hire a boat to take us to the temple Tiral'ara. We encounter some small problem in finding someone who knows what we are talking about. Finally, an old timer says there is a temple named Tirav'ara at the far northern tip of Island two at the Mi'rala'vami river. This is purportedly the fourth district to ever be inhabited during the city's original expansion. Now is houses dock workers and other labourers. Jijliyaris, the old fossil, who delivered us to the island, tells us that there is a yellow house with two horses near the temple.

There, indeed, proves to be a big yellow inn with two horse statues out front. We can't see the temple so we enter the horse tavern. The doors are pushed wide by Afalar and we three stroll in. There is an open courtyard inside the walls where we can sit and enjoy the sky.

An old white haired man served us a couple of beers and a watered-down wine. The wine was an insult to Chal sitting there in its glass. Sjer looks at it in horror and asks if the barkeep is aware of the affront to Chal he has just committed. Sjer proclaims,

"Take this away and bring proper wine,

Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring

Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling:

The Bird of Time has but a little way

To flutter -- and the Bird is on the Wing."

The man rolls his eyes but brings forth a respectable bottle for Sjer's consumption.

Zali scans the other patrons and sees a man with scar through one eye. He has a large staff behind him. As we sit there another man gets up and walks past us. He is a short short man who is all of 5'1". The tavern grows quiet as he leaves and then everyone seems to relax. He was a shadowmage, Sjer mentions hating shadowmages. Follows a discussion about magic and Sjer that makes Sjer extremely uncomfortable.

The bartender gives us directions to the temple. We follow those directions and arrive at the temple. The smell of urine and feces assail our nostrils as we traverse the alleys and narrow streets. The temple stood alone at one time, but the other buildings around it have encroached over time. The smell of incence fills the air inside the temple. There is a corridor set between the outer wall and an inner wall that ring the temple. In it are tapestries and paintings which show themes of the seven paths of Chal. This temple is of the sect of Chal that is not in power at the moment.

The seventh path of Chal is the path of proclamation which asks that you never deny the truth of Chal.

Sjer spends two hours contemplating the seventh path of Chal.

During that time Afalar and Zali watch the temple. There is a large prayer bowl in the centre of the temple behind some curtains. Anyone wishing to communicate with Chal writes or has written for them a request or a blessing, or a prayer which is either put into the bowl or burned in the air above it. Eventually a priest comes to empty the prayer bowl. Afalar follows the priest out to see what happens to the bowl. The priest takes the bowl out to the well where there is a fig tree. He burns any bits of paper that are in the bowl in a small censer.

It was quite the circuitous route to get off of this Island. We eventually made it to the Royal Island.

After another discussion it was decided to investigate the racetrack. Inside the main racetrack and by luck we see Torazi there with his horse.

Zali'haro finds his female friend and asks about Torazi. She says that Torazi's wife and all but three of his children have been sent away by Torazi about a week ago. "Two nights ago he must have gotten very angry about something, there was a large commotion in his room. He was throwing things around and then stormed out." When asked about the upcoming race she says, "He means to win with a victory, I think." Eliza shares much with Zali. Torazi will be racing at noon and Eliza will be racing about mid-morn.

Afalar and Sjer headed off to the Valinar stables. There were many people milling around there so Sjer and Afalar walk around the compound. As we did so a back stable door opened and a line of horses filed out. We engaged a groom in conversation and managed to see the horse of Lajas and through the horse we identified the rider. We now know what both guys look like.

We end the night trying to figure out what to do to find the identity of Jezeral, the writer of the threatening note.

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