"Of Dogs and Daggers" Log Date: 10/27/99 Log Cast: Khalil, Faanshi, Red-Feather, Lailah Log Intro: Though her life is very often full of turmoil -- plagues and strange Festivals, bards that want to sing to her and mages who want to train her, _her_, in the art of her magic -- every so often Faanshi does get quiet moments to herself in which she needs do nothing more than attend to the needs of the dog she treasures. And in times such as these, sometimes, she can glimpse something of the life around her in Atesh-Gah... life that at the moment includes the odd sights of an Agni-Haidar teaching the care of a weapon to a Mongrel naraki, and of another naraki whose pointed ears and green eyes mark him as coming not of the Children of Fire, but rather of the other half of Faanshi's heritage, the Sylvans.... *===========================< In Character Time >==========================* Time of day: Morning Date on Aether: Sunday, June 23, 3905. Year on Earth: 1505 A.D. Phase of the Moon: Last Quarter Season: Summer Weather: Clear Skies Temperature: Hot *==========================================================================* You step through the great double doors and emerge into the courtyard. Courtyard - Atesh-Gah - Haven(#430RJM) If indeed the Hebrew folk of lost Earth are correct in their legends, then this must be the legendary garden from which mankind was expelled. The flat expanse of the great courtyard of Atesh-Gah is covered in the most luxurious grass of bright emerald green, broken only by a cobblestone path for riding and walking to prevent wear upon the lawn. Rich copses of carefully tended wood grow by the walls, lovingly groomed flower gardens acting as a barrier of colour before the rising trees. Perhaps even more relaxing than the sight of the yard are the sensations of it. The lovely scents of flower and tree; honey-suckle, apple blossom, peach, and jasmine; combine with the soft cushion of green grass to provide a sense of peace and harmony that defies the looming sand-hued walls of unbreakable stone. Not even the shadowed maw of the main gate, nor the blocky, unimpressive presence of the impenetrable main keep can overshadow the beauty of this place. Indeed, the stark contrast serves only to enhance it. Contents: Lailah Obvious exits: Temple Fountain Out Entrance Foyer Stables Kosha steps out of the embassy and joins you in the courtyard. Khalil passes between the heavy stone pillars that flank the entrance to Atesh-Gah, and joins you in the courtyard. Khalil has arrived. A whisper of silk, a wag of a big dog's tail, and Faanshi and her ever-present, ever-loyal canine guard Kosha are emerging into the sunshine, coming out of the doors that lead into the ornate main foyer. The shudra maiden casts a shy look about her surroundings while the dog lopes smartly at her side, looking all the world as if he's escorting some grand kshatri maid rather than a humble servant girl. Red-Feather steps out of the embassy and joins you in the courtyard. Red-Feather has arrived. Murmurs are exchanged as Khalil passes through the gates of Atesh-Gah into the courtyard. His steps are heavy upon the stone pathway as he heads toward the same doors Faanshi has just left. He looks as though he might have slept outside instead of in the barracks. His hair is dishevled and his clothes are rather wrinkled. Of course he could just be getting off of his duty shift as his eyes are red rimmed and sporting heavy black bags beneath them. The hilt of his Lion-Headed pommel has been wrapped in a black clothe for some reason as well, limited the amount of light that is refelected from his person. the doors of the Atesh-Ga had no sooner begun to swing closed, than another emerges from within. Red-Feather casts a quick glance about the courtyard breathing as deeply of the sweet morning air as he is able to, without appearing lax. Make way for the Agni-Haidar! Humble personage that she is, this has been drilled into Faanshi enough over the past year and a half that she immediately and deftly steps aside to give Khalil clearer access to the doors which are clearly his destination. Scooting her sizeable dog aside takes a bit of effort, though, and Kosha yips for a moment even as the maiden gently tugs upon his tether. "Heel, Kosha," she can be heard to murmur, but very softly, as she demurely averts her gaze to the hound. Khalil pauses a moment to regard the dog and then the owner. A frown crosses his face before he makes a sharp turn away from the steps and toward a less crowded area of the courtyard. It is a patch of earth that has seen little grass since there is barely any sun shining upon it. Add to that the constant wear of heavy boots and you have the perfect spot for Agni-Haidar to practice their drilling. At least they leave the rest of it for those who like pretty green things. Those doors sure are well used, for only moments after Red-Feather emerges, then another figure traipses out, pale eyes blinking in the morning light. Lailah. A fully clothed Lailah, to that. Holding a small bundle in her arms. A piece of cloth wrapped around something, which is a rather vague description, but as good one can get from looking at it. Her expression is thoughtful, yet determined. Like it usually is when she's going to try to be nice to someone, perhaps? Or at least when she's about to do something that might be a bit of a trial for her temper. Which usually is, everything, come to think of it. Faanshi and her dog quietly divert themselves out of Khalil's path, the maiden coaxing Kosha to a suitable little nook out of the wind. Not only is she dog-accompanied, she's also wielding a basket, and as she claims herself a seat on an unoccupied bench she pulls forth from said basket a sizeable brush. Time to give some attention to her companion's coat, it would seem! Red-Feather moves down the steps in a few long strides, stepping deftly to one side (effectively getting out of the path of whoever was behind him) before daring the backward glace at the feet of...Lailah. Well better safe than sorry. Ignored as he should be, the naraki never the less offers a quick bow in the direction of the Agni Haidar before standing straight, stretching his back. Not ignored.. merely missed.. Yes, that is it. Khalil does not ignore anything really. He merely does not give too much notice when he is preoccupied with breathing. Most of that changes though as he turns to see Lailah coming from within the embassy. Dark eyes pause upon her form before lowering themselves to the task of unwrapping the pommel and folding the black clothe neatly. It is then tucked into a pocket within his haik as he starts to remove that as well. Black within black he sets them both down in the shade as he starts to stretch himself, muscles loosening for the task ahead. The small frown that is resting upon Lailah's features grows a bit as she looks down at the glancing Sylvan; whatever reason, she remains silent about it. She might just feel like frowning, after all. Also the dark little naraki starts making her way down the steps after a few moments, peering about the courtyard. Eyes moving to Khalil. Frown growing. Think happy thoughts. Yes, happy. Sweet. Demure. No; polite. Yes, polite. That'll have to do. Perhaps... Hrm. Anyway, she's not moving wuite as leisurefully or arrogant as she sometimes does, her walk merely a flowing, held-back saunter. And her nose isn't yearning for the skies. Dog hair! Dog hair for everybody! As Faanshi settles down to the task of brushing her dog, it can be seen that a near hundred-pound dog has a considerable amount of hair to shed during the summer. His loose hairs are pulled free with very little effort, and the strokes of the maiden's brush send little clouds and tufts up into the air when the bristles don't catch them. And as she brushes, Faanshi peeks sideways and up around the courtyard, just to make sure she and her canine companion aren't disturbing anyone. Red-Feather moves to further from the Atesh-Ga's double doors, still holding close to the wall. After a few slow paces, he bends his legs to crouch back on his heels, and glances about the yard once again...enjoying a brief respite it would seem. His elbows are set upon his knees as the Sylvan's green eyed gaze flits again towards the Agni-Haidar. Nothing to see... move on. Khalil is just going to be drilling. Just as he does every moment he is not on some task or bothering some miserable naraki. He sword is drawn with a wisp of air and then he starts to loosen his writs with a few flowers that cut across the air. A single blade becomes a flurry of metal until finally it slows once more and is drawn across an invisible line. There is no need to test the sharpness of the blade or its weight all is well with the falcare. See how it moves like an extension of his arm? Through a couple of simple forms designed to improve coordination and balance, Khalil begins to warm up. Noting the overgrown puppy a bit off, Lailah's lips can't help but quirk upwards in a small grin behind her veil. That sight usually manages to lighten up the coldest of hearts, if only for an instant, and Lailah's heart isn't even cold to begin with. With a miniature shrug to petite shoulders, the mongrel then turns her eyes away from the happy grooming-scene and for the black-clad figure off upon the grass. Careful steps now start taking the girl straight for the Agni-Haidar. Yes; aim set straight for Khalil. Is she planning to trample him? Perhaps not, for she's not moving fast enough by far. Slow, yet determined steps, bare feet stepping softly over the emerald grass, wounds caused by chafing ropes around her ankles hidden under those billowing skirts. Kosha's tail wags vociferously as Faanshi's even strokes run over his thick pelt; obviously, the dog approves of this particular attention. Still, though, his natural curiosity -- not to mention the alertness trained into him by breeding and his mistress -- keeps his attention roving around the courtyard. And so does Faanshi's, though more subtly. She peeks at Khalil, drilling, but only fleetingly. She peeks at Lailah, curiosity flickering across her eyes though she is not yet going to disturb the naraki maiden if she has business with the Agni-Haidar. And she peeks at Red-Feather, curiosity holding her attention there for a little longer. Him. She's seen him before... Red-Feather is either facinated by the Agni-Haidar, or is dozing off...his face remains set in an inscrutable expression, idle interest, or dis-interest as the case may be registers in his eyes. The young Sylvan has not yet noted the scrutiny of Faanshi...or her dog. The falcare flashes across the sky as it is arced into a downward slice. It then angles back up and dances across his shoulders in a precise manner that suddenly bolts the blade outward in a thrusting motion guided by the force of Khalil's weight. By coincidence or purpose it is directed toward the approaching figure of Lailah.. but no more than a split second before it is sheathed in a swift motion. Without having broken a sweat he watches the naraki without expression. He will not be the first to break the rather non-violent silence that permeates the courtyard for now. Lailah is doing her best at not turning the silence into some violent scene of death and destruction, herself. The slave must have noted the sword lashing out towards her, but she does not show any sign that she has, those large green eyes not even blinking. With one last soft swish of cloth as her skirts continue their forward motion before falling still around her thin frame, the mongrel halts in front of the Varati, at a safe distance - well, probably not at all; is anything a safe distance when talking with an Agni-Haidar? - but at least she's not stepping him on the toes. "Imphadi." Hm, she managed that alright, in her humble opinion. "You said you would show me how to take care of the dagger." Straight to the point. Khalil doesn't seem to be about to speak in the near future, so why stand here and waste time? At least she's trying here. She's being polite. Red-Feather The young man before you is a study in contrasts: His eyes are a striking shade of green, remarkable in both thier darkness and depth, though rare is the time they are met in a gaze. His thick hair is worn loose and long, falling past his shoulders in curls colored a muted Reddish brown. His only concession to decorating himself is in the form of a leather thong, which in addition to keeping his locks clear of his face, support a pair of feathers, of a color remarkably similar to the shade of his hair. Indeed at a casual glance, it is easy to mistake the feathers, which are secured at his temple, and sweep down amidst his curls, for an extention of those locks. Red-Feather's legs are clad in black cotton breeches, loose fitting, the ends tucked into heavy boots. His torso is engulfed by the folds of a great grey haik, of a clearly inferior quality. It is only when he extends an arm, or some folds swings aside that one might note that he wears no tunic beneath this garment. If one were quick of eye, one might also note one of the tattoos which mark his fair skin. His..occupation has left him lean, but muscualar. His lot in life also might explain the many scars which are glimpsed from time to time beneath the haik. A Sylvan naraki. In Clan Khalida. That oddity is enough to keep Faanshi's attention periodically wavering off her even, steady strokings of her dog's pelt to take in the sight of Red-Feather. Even as she peeks in that personage's direction, a bird fluttering by in the branches overhead distracts Kosha -- who lets out a deep-throated bark. FOOD! Is that food? Red-Feather's every movement to this point had been slow and measured, his attention had been squarely upon the solider...at the baying of the hound however, his head snaps quickly towards the dog, balance unthreatened by the rapid move...for a moment he looks at the animal, cocking his head to one side, not unlike a bird in scrutiny... A breath is released. Eyes blink slowly and then finally Khalil cants his head in agreement. "Yes I did," he replies, motioning for the naraki to find herself a place to sit. The object she holds is examined briefly before he removes his sword, along with the sheathe, so that he can kneel upon the ground next to his haik. See? Civil. One does not need a peach to get his attention. There is no question as to if she has brought the needed supplies. Either she has or she has made a big mistake. There's never any in-between for Khalil, is there? Either do something perfect, or you die. Or so it seems at times. Well, Lailah brought what he told her she'd need; rolled up in the piece of cloth is a small bottle of oil and a whetstone, acquired earlier at the smithy in just as pleasant tones. She can be nice if she wants to as well, you know. And of course, the dagger itself, unwrapped and pulled out carefully, the blade catching the sunshine for a moment and sending a sharp flash across the courtyard. The slave girl sits down, crosses her legs and tucks feet in under her. Just peering at the warrior is she, now. Thoughtful. What reason does she have to approach him and be all polite? Perhaps she's wondering that same question, herself, or perhaps it's just a part of some elaborate plan of hers, Tyche knows for what. Kosha leaps up to his feet, attracted by the fluttering in the branches. He hasn't gotten to be nearly a hundred pounds in size without being alerted by any sign of potential prey, after all. Apparently oblivious to his mistress's soft cry of dismay, the young dog skitters a few steps away from her, trying to track that chirping shape over him. Faanshi rises swiftly, setting aside her brush and momentarily struggling to decide whether she should restrain the hound or let him go after the bird. Her green gaze flashes in consternation to the others she'd been surreptitiously watching nearby, before she calls out softly, "Kosha, be at peace, come back here!" Red-Feather notes at last what provoked the canine's comment...and now it is the small fluttering bird which holds the Sylvan's attention...the closest thing to an expression to touch his face is the small smile he allows himself now as he follows the progress of the tiny avian. The dog, the bird and others are given a short, grim glance as Khalil rests his hands upon his thighs. Narrowing and then turning away the gaze is nothing of the forgiving sort. His word would end the problem quickly. Perfection or death, though there is a moment of respite given for struggle. All else is unimportant when faced with serving the Amir-al. The Agni-Haidar looks over what has been brought, before he nods with approval. At least she did not mess this simple task up. "Take the oil and put a single drop upon the upper portion of the stone," he says quietly. "Then take up the dagger, holding it where the blade starts to begin." Chasing after Kosha, who in turn chases after the fluttering bird, the shudra maiden very shortly disappears off in the direction of the fountain and its attendant gardens. The last sign of their presences are the echoes of Kosha's bark -- and a few lingering tufts of fluffy fur trailing in the shedding hound's wake. [End log.]