"Clan Temjin Arrives"

Log Date:
	1/1/01

Log Cast:
	Faanshi, Aharon, Sukhvir, Kerani, Geridan, Serah

Log Intro:
	It is often said amongst the Varati people that Haven is a seething
hive of candala and kafir who are all too prone to corrupting the pure ways
of the Children of Fire. With a foot in the world of the Varati and the 
other in that of those very same candala and kafir, Faanshi is not about to
make such declarations herself. For her, it is enough that the behavior of
those in Atesh-Gah towards her is merely cool rather than outright reviling.
She does not ask for her mother's people to _like_ her -- and in fact she
remains surprised time and again that there are a small number of Varati
who seem to do just that. What she _expects_ is to be treated like what she
considers herself to be: a servant, and a lowly one at that.
	She does not quite expect, therefore, to actually be vaguely
disappointed when she chances to witness the arrival of two sons -- two
very strictly traditional sons -- of Clan Temjin in the courtyard of 
Atesh-Gah....

*===========================< In Character Time >===========================* 
             Time of day:  Evening 
          Date on Aether:  Sunday, August 20, 3907. 
           Year on Earth:  1507 A.D. 
       Phase of the Moon:  Full 
                  Season:  Summer 
                 Weather:  Clear Skies 
             Temperature:  Hot 
*==========================================================================*

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. 
     (OOC note: +view here/ring)
Contents:
Sukhvir
Aharon
Obvious exits:
Atesh-Serai <AS>  Gladiator Barracks <GB>  Temple <T>  Fountain <F>  Out <O>  
  Entrance Foyer <EF>  Stables <S>

Aharon
         The most noticable thing about this Varati male would be the black 
  patch that covers his left eye and the still-livid scar that emerges from it 
  to carve a line across his cheekbone to then be buried in a dark beard. The 
  other eye is bright, like polished ebony. While it is a recent injury, he 
  has quickly learned how to adjust, and now very little takes him by 
  surprise. His dark hair covers the beginning of the scar that starts at his 
  forehead and bisects his left eyebrow before being hidden by the patch, hair 
  that is pulled back into a thick warrior's braid. His features are proud, 
  and in all the right places...he was even considered attractive by many 
  Imphadas until his injury marred his appearance. But he doesn't seem to 
  mind. Broad shoulders and corded muscles attest to his warrior background 
  and the proud bearing shows the kshatri blood that runs in his veins. 
         It must take quite a lot of black cloth to cover such a tall frame as 
  his, but nothing has been spared. Black silwar and sark are embroidered 
  thickly with Clan Temjin colors of red and green. A deep green haik falls 
  from his shoulders, but easily flaring in the wind it does not hide the 
  long, curving scimitar at his hip nor does it hide the quiver of arrows 
  across his back and the steel recurve bow over one shoulder.

Sukhvir
There is nothing particularly unusual about this man; he is a little taller 
  than average, his eyes are so brown as to be almost black, his hair dark to 
  extremes and his skin a deep brown. He has all the scars one would expect of 
  a Kshatri warrior, though none mars his proud, sharp features which are 
  considered attractive by many Imphadas, and he presumably has all the skills 
  one would expect as well. Broad shoulders and corded muscles attest to his 
  warrior background and the proud bearing shows the Kshatri blood that runs 
  in his veins.
It must take quite a lot of black cloth to cover such a tall frame as his, but 
  nothing has been spared. Black silwar and sark are embroidered thickly with 
  Clan Temjin colors of red and green. A deep red haik falls from his 
  shoulders, but easily flaring in the wind it does not hide the long, curving 
  silver-hilted scimitar held in the small of his back by his pale green sash, 
  the silver-hilted curved dagger in the front of the sash, or the quiver of 
  red and green fletched arrows across his back and the steel recurve bow over 
  one shoulder. Emeralds and rubies also decorate the weapons, which though 
  rich have seen a great deal of use.

Faanshi
     At first glance, some things about this individual are easy to discern. 
  The garments worn are those oft seen on Varati females, yet, this figure 
  stands at only 5'9", small for a woman of that race. But woman she clearly 
  is, if the glimpses of slender hands and feet and of the shape beneath her 
  flowing garb are to be believed. What portions of her skin are visible are a 
  warm shade of gold; a hint of a braid of coal-black peeks out from beneath 
  her sari. Shy or perhaps simply trained to submissive silence she must be, 
  for she rarely raises her eyes to anyone unless specifically bidden, and she 
  speaks so seldom and so softly that it is nigh impossible to determine the 
  quality of her voice. Only the most astute of observers might notice that 
  every so often -- perhaps when she thinks no one is watching -- this silent 
  one peeks with furtive curiosity out from behind her veil at the world at 
  large, with eyes set at a slight un-Varatish slant in her face, eyes the 
  color of summer leaves.
     She is simply clad, her garments humble but of excellent repair, perhaps 
  the clothing of a servant whose household garbs even its servants well. 
  However, though she wears silks that can be only of Varati make, and 
  although her gold-trimmed red choli and blue silwar are of strong and vivid 
  hues, there is a certain sobriety about her garb over all -- born of the 
  unadorned black sari which covers her head and winds about her slender 
  frame, and the opaque black gauzy veil which hides most of her face from 
  easy view. On her feet she wears simple sandals.

Kerani passes between the heavy stone pillars that flank the entrance to 
  Atesh-Gah, and joins you in the courtyard.
Kerani has arrived.

With the coming of the evening, her prayers to the Amir-al duly attended, the 
  shudra healer Faanshi has taken the opportunity to steal a few moments alone 
  for herself for once. Evening's not quite as safe a time as dawn for 
  solitude... but then again, her fingers have been itching to handle the 
  small battered lyre that has been in her possession for a few weeks now. And 
  so in a sheltered corner of the courtyard, the maiden in black sari and veil 
  over Clan Khalida's colors is sitting on one of the fine carven benches, the 
  lyre nestled in her lap and casting forth softly crafted, diligently 
  practiced scales into the nighttime air.

There is a bit of a commotion at the gate to the Embassy, but nothing to cause 
  too much trouble. It is merely a bit of conversation after which a dark 
  figure on a pale horse rides in. His nose wrinkles at so much vegetation, 
  the scents of which mingle and confuse his poor nose. Even riding into the 
  city has been a bit of an experience...so different from his home Vara. But 
  here he is...and there is no one here to meet him. There is a faint frown of 
  disappointment as he dismounts, flipping his haik out of the saddle and back 
  to its proper place at his back. Turning his head to take in the entire 
  Courtyard his eye lands on the black-clad woman sitting on the bench. "You. 
  Find me someone to take care of my horse." As an afterthought he adds a 
  mumbles, "Namaste."

A few moments later, there is another small commotion at the gate as yet 
  another dark figure rides in, this one on a horse as black as his outer 
  garments. This one too swings down from his horse with the ease of 
  long-accustomed use, but there is no frown of disappointment on his face - 
  yet. Especially not when he sees the other. Instead, his lips part in a 
  smile as he cries "Brother?"

The small ruckus at the gates is more than enough to override Faanshi's 
  tentatively played notes -- and even as the man and his mount, a sight that 
  in and of itself is enough to make her blink here in this place where most 
  of the steeds that come into the embassy are wyverns, the maiden's come to 
  her feet. Cradling her lyre to her as though it is a precious object indeed, 
  her gaze modestly lowered, the young woman sketches a quick, deep bow to the 
  first arrival and can be heard to murmur, "It shall be done, Imphadi." That 
  he actually bothered to append the word of greeting seems to take her aback 
  for a moment, but then she bows again by way of reply. For a fraction of an 
  instant, she peeks towards the gates to see if she can catch a glimpse of 
  whether this obvious kshatri man is arriving with companions, so that she 
  might judge how many stable shudra she might need to run and fetch. Seeing 
  the second mounted man is more than enough answer, and she steps off hastily 
  to summon youths from the stables to take the horses.

Kerani steps through the gates a few moments later. If she were looking in the 
  right direction, she might see the black-clad shudra head toward the 
  stables. The white-robed young woman says nothing, adjusting her path to not 
  be in the way of the horses, their owners, or the incoming stablehands.

Aharon makes sure the girl looks like she knows what she is doing before the 
  voice causes him to whirl about. The white-clad woman is noted only briefly 
  before she fades out of sight on his blind side, but upon seeing the other 
  on the horse his own lips part in a similar smile, the expression crinkling 
  the scar on one cheek as well as the patch, "What took you so long?" The 
  horses forgotten...the stablehands had better take care of them or there 
  will be what-for to pay, he closes the distance and embraces his brother 
  tightly. Once he moves apart he claps Sukhvir on the back of the head 
  lightly, "It had better be a good excuse...and don't tell me it was one of 
  your dreams. That excuse may have worked for others, but not me." But for 
  one of such a stoic race he is still smiling...for now.

Sukhvir laughs in delight, also hugging his brother tightly. "Aharon, you son 
  of a mangy cur! Why did you not tell me you still lived, you fool? I know 
  what happened to your eye, and thought you'd died from the blow." The 
  warrior claps his brother on the shoulder, as if to make sure he's real 
  flesh and blood and not animated by some foul magics.

Indeed, Faanshi does know what she's doing. She heads directly for the 
  stables, stepping within and calling out a soft request for aid for the 
  horses of the incoming kshatri men; soon enough, two lanky young stablehands 
  that tower over the comparatively small shudra come hastening out to make 
  their obeisances to the men of Clan Temjin and to attend to their beasts. 
  Faanshi herself is left to linger in their wake, peeking yearnfully at that 
  little corner of the courtyard where she'd just been playing, and hoping 
  that the stablemen had not paid much attention to the instrument she's still 
  cradling against her. On soft-sandaled feet, she comes back out towards the 
  courtyard proper. Disturbing the men is not appropriate, but she lingers 
  nevertheless. A good shudra remains invisible until called upon, and the 
  maiden is, all things considered, a good shudra.

Kerani quietly peers over her thin white veil at the reunion happening. A 
  faint smile touches her lips behind that sheer cloth - such a situation 
  rarely occurs in public any more. Still, she gives the menfolk their 
  privacy, as best as anyone can have privacy at the Varati embassy, and 
  starts to search for the person she came to meet in the first place. Faanshi 
  can be fairly easy to miss, after all, when there's much else going on.

"It takes more than a flimsy sword to get through this head," is Aheron's 
  answer, but in actuality he nearly did die from the blow. But he's not about 
  to tell his brother that in public...maybe not even at all. Clapping his 
  brother about the shoulders he lifts his eye to glance about once 
  more...there's that girl in black and the other moving forward. His 
  remaining eye narrows as he seems to look beyond the women, but with a shake 
  of his head comes back to the present. "You. Girl...find out where we can 
  stay. I don't want the horse to founder with all that extra weight on him." 
  And those stablehands had better be careful with his luggage. The other 
  woman he'll leave to his brother.

Sukhvir turns to find another woman. He finds one nearby, displaying proper 
  mannerisms but not wearing black as the one addressed by his brother was. 
  "Woman, fine us wine," he smiles happily. Draping his own arm across 
  Aharon's shoulders he grins "It's good to see you again, brother. I'm 
  relieved to find you alive, and well to boot. Father sends his love - or 
  would if he had any. Instead, he sends word that he is delighted his oldest 
  son still lives. I think he wants to teach you a few things about managing 
  the Vara when we get back - I already had my fill of those lessons, when we 
  thought you dead along with our older brothers."

Without raising her eyes a single time, Faanshi turns towards the kshatri and 
  bows to Aharon again, saying shyly, "May this humble one inquire of your 
  Clan, Imphadi, so that I may go to tell the khansamah to prepare a proper 
  suite for your use...?" Warlord's sons, these? The thought strikes a bit of 
  nervous dread down Faanshi's spine -- but then, these are only sons of a 
  Warlord. Not Warlords themelves. There's a bit of comfort in that. Her gaze 
  flashes sideways to find whoever Sukhvir might have called for, and a 
  glimpse of a white robe makes her catch her breath. Is that...? To forestall 
  Kerani being ordered to do something beneath her, she hastily appends, "I 
  shall fetch the wine as well if the Imphadis wish it..."

All traces, faint as they were, of the white-clad woman's smile vanish 
  entirely as an order is sent her way. Her dark eyes turn somewhat darker for 
  a moment, perhaps as her mind processes the right words with which to 
  politely and definitively decline. Before she's even gotten started, 
  however, Faanshi speaks - well, at least that solves the problem of finding 
  her. Kerani smooths her robes with her hands, and adjusts one of her silver 
  necklaces. "If the Imphadis wish wine," she says to Faanshi, "that would be 
  good." Thanks will come from Kerani later, under more appropriate 
  circumstances. Now, for the gentlemen. "Namaste, Imphadis." She bows, but 
  only slightly, as appropriate for someone of similar station.

Dark brows raise, one of which is split in half by the scar, "You have enough 
  to do, shudra, than to do both. This one," Aharon nods towards Kerani, "can 
  fetch the wine while you tell the Khansamah that two sons of Clan Temjin are 
  here." Turning back to his brother after a passing glare at the white-clad 
  woman his smile fades into a frown, "He will just have to wait. I have only 
  just arrived here at Haven and so will you. Besides, he is fit enough to run 
  the Vara for a long time." Atar knows that Aharon doesn't want it. Not yet, 
  anyways.

Sukhvir shrugs eloquently. "I have not Seen anything else, brother, as I have 
  tried to tell him. But he did not demand that you return swiftly, so I do 
  not think he is yet too bothered." It's not that the Kshatri is ignoring the 
  women, it's just that to his mind, unless they are either taking orders, 
  carrying them out or making love to him, they are simply nothing and no-one 
  of importance. Unless he wants them to do something, or they interact 
  directly with him on orders either from himself or someone else, or they are 
  fulfilling their womanly duties, he is simply indifferent to their presence.

Swallowing hard behind her veil, Faanshi bobs her head in acknowledgement to 
  Aharon, saying again her shudra's watchword phrase: "It shall be done, 
  Imphadi. I will go to the khansamah at once." Still holding that lyre as 
  though it were the most precious thing in her world, she bows deeply and 
  then turns to hasten off into the embassy to spread the word of the arrival 
  of Clan Temjin's scions. One glance goes to Kerani, though, a momentary 
  flash of consternation visible above her ebon veil... consternation in eyes 
  the hue of summer's green.

Kerani narrows her eyes again. Ah well, Faanshi tried. For a moment, Kerani 
  runs through her mind's eye the assorted virulent herbal concoctions she 
  knows, pondering which ones would work best with alcohol. As that moment 
  ends, she sets those thoughts aside - after all, she doesn't know where the 
  wine would be stored in the first place, even if she could get at it! Well, 
  if the gentlemen want their wine.... Kerani glances about, until she finds a 
  naraki passing not far away. "You there. Come bring some wine for these two 
  men." She considers adding more, but doesn't want to burn herself with any 
  backlash - yet. Once the naraki is on his way, Kerani turns her eyes back 
  toward the two men - gaze lowered, barely, and still dark as midnight. She 
  doesn't move from where she stands.

Aharon shakes his head as the woman orders another to do their bidding. "It 
  seems here in Haven they don't know how to handle their women. A shame...for 
  it was seeming like such a pleasant place to be." The white clad woman is 
  now completely ignored as he moves with his brother to one of the benches to 
  wait for the wine, "So, tell me...what has been going on at home?" He was 
  only recently fit to travel and he still gets occasional headaches.

Sukhvir doesn't answer his brother just yet, though the arm around Aharon's 
  shoulders has tightened. Instead, he looks at the woman who just disobeyed 
  his brother. "You, woman. I gave you an order, my brother repeated it. Why 
  were we not obeyed? Do you think you are perhaps above us, that you need not 
  do as you are told? I had heard that Haven was a hotbed of Candala, but you 
  looked and acted with proper modesty until you were spoken to. You must tell 
  your husband to have stern words with you, if you are married, or your 
  Mahram if you are not. Such disobedience should not be tolerated in a mere 
  woman." He sounds displeased, this warrior, and he obviously expects Kerani 
  to go and tell her man that she should be punished. The thought barely 
  crosses his mind that she might not do as commanded, this time.

Kerani folds her hands in front of her. Fury burns deep in her eyes, but it 
  neither reaches her posture nor her voice. She bows her head as Sukhvir 
  addresses her directly. "I do not presume to stand above your station, 
  imphadi. However, I am no shudra nor naraki, nor your clanswoman, nor do I 
  even know where the wine is stored. I will speak with my husband on this 
  matter, and he will do as he wishes on it, for it is not my place to tell 
  him what to do. I apologize for any slight I have caused, but I cannot do 
  what I cannot do." She leaves her head bowed.

"Then why, woman, are you here?" Surely it can't be for the scenery. "If you 
  have a husband, then it certainly isn't your duty to be decoration, so why 
  don't you make yourself useful, eh? Learn where the wine is kept for the 
  future." Maybe the woman is just stupid. After all, so many of them are. 
  Aharon removes his arm from his brother's shoulder to readjust his bow as he 
  sits. When he looks back up and sees that the woman is -still- standing 
  there he can hardly believe it. "What, are you deaf as well?" By Atar, what 
  have they walked into?

Sukhvir too removes his arm from his brother's shoulders, crossing it and its 
  opposite over his chest. The toe of his boot begins to tap with irritation. 
  "Brother, I think those stories we were told of the licentiousness and 
  immodesty of the women of Haven might just be true, though we laughed them 
  off. She stands properly, I will give her that, but her behaviour is 
  anything but proper. Woman, I am a man, you are not. That is all the rank I 
  need when dealing with you. Just because you are Kshatri and married does 
  not grant you your husband's status - and even if it did, I doubt his is a 
  match for the oldest and second sons of a Warlord."

Kerani replies first to Aharon's questions. "Why am I here, imphadi? I am 
  awaiting meeting someone, who is currently busy, with my husband's 
  blessing." She then replies to Sukhvir. "I do not contest your rank over me, 
  imphadi. Whether your status matches my husband's is not a matter for me to 
  judge, I am certain." Geridan's going to throw a fit when he hears of this, 
  she thinks. Blessed Ushas! The last thing she needs is to be the start of an 
  inter-clan conflict.
It is as Kerani finishes speaking when the naraki returns, bearing a tray 
  which carries a bottle of wine and two glasses. He looks at the two men, 
  then to Kerani, but stays off to the side. He's not stupid enough to step 
  into this conflict uninvited.

Kerani's naraki is not the only one to return to the scene about now. The 
  shudra maiden in black also re-emerges from the front doors of the embassy 
  -- and one peek in the direction of Kerani and the two sons of Clan Temjin, 
  not to mention one snippet of conversation overheard from the both of them, 
  is enough to freeze Faanshi in her tracks. Holy Mother. This does not look 
  good. Still, she has news to convey to the kshatri men, and so she steps as 
  close as she dares, dropping into a kneeling position nearby and waiting 
  tensely to be acknowledged. Warlord's sons, all right. For once, Faanshi 
  feels as though she's encountered Varati men who uphold the world as she 
  understands it is _supposed_ to work... but for reasons she holds deep 
  within her heart, their presence stirs disquiet within her.

Aharon leans over to rest an elbow on his knee he keeps his one eye trained on 
  the woman, "By Atar...that must be some husband to train the likes of you. 
  Or is he too weak? Tell me, is it you who have the ordering of him?" Oh, he 
  has heard of such things...and such men are usually the butt of many 
  off-color jokes among their Clan. Catching movement out of the corner of his 
  good eye he notices the wine being brought and motions the naraki closer. 
  The shudra in black is also noticed as she returns. Leaving his brother to 
  deal with the uppity woman he turns to Faanshi, "Well?"

Geridan passes between the heavy stone pillars that flank the entrance to 
  Atesh-Gah, and joins you in the courtyard.
Geridan has arrived.

Sukhvir snorts at Kerani's words. "So you do have some idea of your station, 
  then, woman." Still displeased, but not as irate as he had been. The 
  attitudes of both Shudra and Naraki have had some effect on his temper, as 
  well. He waits for his wine to arrive, parched as he is from his long, long 
  journey.

Acutely sensitive to the displeasure of kshatri men even after three years out 
  from under the hand of Hashim of Sarazen, Faanshi kneels as motionlessly as 
  if she were crafted from stone. Only her grip upon her lyre remains gentle, 
  for she dares not hold it too closely, lest she damage it. But her 
  black-saried head is absolutely bowed, her leaf-green gaze riveted downward, 
  and there is nothing but proper humility in her soft voice as she reports, 
  striving to sound as composed as possible, "The khansamah bids me tell you 
  that a suite is being prepared for your use, imphadi, in the hallway just up 
  the great stairs within."

Kerani frowns slightly - she's not about to ignore Aharon's question, not at 
  this point. "It is he who gives the orders in the household, imphadi, not 
  I." She's not about to embellish any further, particularly not with both of 
  them finally distracted. She dares not look in another way, or she'd notice 
  someone relevant to the current conversation approaching. Meanwhile, the 
  naraki, standing as quietly as he can, approaches as bidden and pours the 
  glasses of wine for the two men.

Surprisingly enough, at least to those woh might know him, it is not from 
  outside the walls of the Atesh-Gah from which Geridan comes, but from the 
  inside. The enterance foyer is his point of exit, as with slow, deliberate 
  and graceful stride the towering Varati makes his way in to the courtyard, a 
  pile of parchment tucked beneath his arm. Eyes of flame, burning, licking, 
  lapping at crystalline irises search, he had heard, from an aquaintance 
  indoors that his wife was present, and so, as it is rarely, but more 
  commonly now, seen, a smile lingers upon the lips of the Advisor and 
  Representative to Clan Rashid. What he see's however, rather than delight 
  him with the presence of the one he loves, furrows his brow in a dangerous 
  manner and contemplative thoughts begin to filter through his mind. Gloved 
  fingers trace the elaborately carved hilt of his blade.

Serah passes between the heavy stone pillars that flank the entrance to 
  Atesh-Gah, and joins you in the courtyard.
Serah has arrived.
Serah moves through the courtyard and towards the Entrance of Atesh-Gah, a 
  varati man escorting her inside.

Aharon takes the wine from the naraki once it has been poured and takes a long 
  drink of it. Much better. With nothing but water to sustain him on the trip, 
  the wine seems like something sent from the Amir-Al himself. "Why do you 
  continue baiting her so, brother? Just leave her be. She isn't worth your 
  breath or our time." Nodding once to the shudra, acknowledging her words he 
  goes back to the wine, not noticing that some others have joined them in the 
  Courtyard. He is still getting used to having a blind side and this is one 
  of the downfalls of it.

Serah ascends the stairs to Atesh-Gah's sturdy double doors, allowed past by 
  the ever-present Agni-Haidar.
Serah has left.

Sukhvir has every intention of leaving her be, now that he has wine and a 
  place to stay. It is, after all, the woman's husband's job to teach her 
  better manners. And if it takes a beating to do so, it is regrettable, but 
  better to use the rod than spoil the woman. He turns back to his brother, 
  putting his arm over Aharon's shoulders again and says "What were we talking 
  about, brother? Oh yes, the news. Father's favourite stallion has sired 
  another three colts and a mare, the Shudra are following the Surah of 
  Reproduction with real fervour, and one of our younger brothers is to be 
  married to a handsome girl from one of the minor Clans in the Vara. Father 
  is fit and well, and another three of his concubines are pregnant."

This sounds like Faanshi's cue to make herself invisible again. Clinging to 
  her lyre, keeping her troubled eyes averted, the halfbreed maiden bows her 
  head once in deference to the kshatri before she rises and slips away as 
  discreetly as possible.

Kerani's veil ruffles slightly with a soft sigh of relief. Good, the men have 
  something else on their mind. She's about to make her way toward Faanshi 
  when she spots another person walking by. Blessed Ushas - no you're not 
  seeing things, girl. Taking the men's disinterest for a dismissal - or not 
  caring one way or the other any more - she approaches Geridan. She looks up 
  to him quietly, having seen that look on his face before. She doesn't speak 
  yet, however.

Not worth their time is she? That expression of fierce concentration and 
  contemplation is marred only by the brow that is raised sharply, the flames 
  echoing its ascension with a burning pillar of their own, hovering, then 
  whisping across the iris before vanishing. Kerani is paid little mind even 
  as she approaches, though he spares her a glance with both a touch of 
  concern and determination. She is not to get in the way of this. It is said 
  a lion can tell how his mate is feeling all the way across a mountain by her 
  scent and just... knowing her. Much is the same for this Warrior. Something 
  is going on, and he doesn't approve. "I happen to think she is much worth my 
  time and effort." the voice booms from the blindside of his sighted victim, 
  deep rumblings nearly resembling that of a playful, yet dangerous growl. And 
  he stands, tall.

Aharon turns his head to look at the one who spoke. The single eye takes in 
  the man who stands close to the disobedient one, "Well...so he does wear the 
  silwar after all." And that's all he's going to say about that. Back to his 
  conversation with his brother, "Three more? I don't know how he does it at 
  his age. I'm surprised he hasn't tried to hitch you up with a wife yet." 
  Luckily he has an excuse...a couple, really. Having had a concubine and lost 
  her, he's not exactly open to such a match. Also, being presumed missing 
  sort of puts a damper on such things as well.

Sukhvir chuckles. "When it was thought I was first son, there was no woman of 
  status enough within the area. Now that I am only second son, there is a 
  possibility, brother. She is pretty, and properly submissive, and trained in 
  all the womanly arts. I might find a concubine while I am here, though - 
  Father said there might be some worth looking at, one reason he let me come 
  to this city of Candala." He takes a sip from his wine. "So, what has 
  happened to you most recently?"

[And this was the last that Faanshi overheard, as she leaves the kshatri to
 their arguing -- all too grateful to get out of the range of notice of the
 sons of Clan Temjin. End log.]