MAIN SAGA PEARLS OF PERSIA | IC

[Kuno]

Arrival

The brutal efficiency with which Persian guards crushed the amateur mob achieved their goal within ten minutes. Within fifteen, the entire square was suppressed, those having been wounded in the mad rush attended to by nearby physicians, and those who had been too slow or too stupid to get away detained in glum clusters against the tiles. The original rabble-rouser, the treasonous orator, was hardly recognizable. His face was bruised and bloodied, and a guard shoved him roughly to the ground by his supporters.

Some of the bazaar merchants were detained for witness statements. Neyameh was one of them, and she clucked her tongue at the woman across from her.

"You said you saw him?"

"Yes. With a boy."

The merchant was sullen. This woman didn't care about the original troublemaker. She was asking about the one named Alim; though the merchant had known him by a different name. He had been courteous and spent much on her wares. She was loath to lose a customer like that.

But the pain at her side was persuasive.

"A boy, you say?"

"A boy, a girl- I don't know! Too many people in the way. He was a blur."

Her interrogator's face was unreadable. She appeared fairly young save for the crow's feet about her eyes. Plain in a way that would best be eased by smiling, but the frown lines by her thin lips suggested she did little of such. Thick, dark brown hair was pulled back into a severe bun away from her face, and she was dressed in regular day robes - barring for the barely concealed sheathed dagger at her hip. Her fingers rested on it lightly. A warning.

"Which way did they go?"

"That way." The woman looked where Neyameh pointed. "Towards the Upper District."

"Are you sure?"

"Why would I lie to you?" Neyameh spat out. In spite of her irritation, fear shone in her eyes. She would have been a fool to lie to a woman of her standing.

The woman stared for an uncomfortably long moment. Then she turned away, eyes flitting away with cool regard.

She had an idea of where Alim Yafir and his friend were going.

--------------

Trampled? Panic in the streets? Arrests?

Barraged at all sides. That's how Mila felt, standing there under the weight of the men's shared news and pointed questions. Could she trust these strangers with what she knew? What would her husband do if he was there? How would he answer?

The woman kept her poise, and her head, and prayed that her daughter would do the same.

"Sirs, you ask much. You must allow me breath to answer." The words began, tremulous at first, but ending strong, her resolve hardening like forged steel. She sucked in a breath, then another, steadying her nerves.

There was no use in lying to them. Perhaps even these strangers could help.

"Habbas has been gone since early this morning. I don't know where. We found his private study a ransacked mess this morning, the drawers opened and emptied, and I don't know who could have possibly done this. Or what it could mean."

Of course she knew what it could mean. The Habbas she knew would have left a note. The Habbas she knew would have told a servant where he was going in case she inquired. The Habbas she knew...

"But…"

Mila fell silent. Or rather, the breath was stolen from her; her hands came to her chest as her eyes alighted on something behind the group gathered before her. The clink of the front gate could be heard, and as heads turned to no doubt see what captured the woman's attention so, the sight of Habbas Al-Farsi himself could be seen briskly walking towards them, his expression stormy.

GM NOTE

Habbas where tf have you been. Interrogate this man

 

[Red Thunder]

​

Unconscionable. Exceedingly rude. Ungracious. Despicable.

How dare these two burst into her father's home in such a manner, invited as honored guests! The audacity, to treat their hostess with such abruptness and dishonor! The family guards were but a word away, to throw out such ingrates as these! Even Razin in her worst moments-!

No, perhaps not entirely true; she could be quite … abrasive. Nevertheless, could these ruffians not recognize courtesy and measured calmness in the face of calamity? She herself often wished she had her mother's stoic nature, and tried her best to embody it. A heat sat churning in the young woman's stomach, brewing a venom that she longed to spew at these two in a most violent manner.

"If I may, Umi," Razin began, not waiting on her mother's permission, and turning to face both men. "Demands are the practice of tyrants and kidnappers. Should we expect such behavior from you, then? Is not my father free to move as he wills, or to arrive in such time as pleases him? He is your employer, yes? Do the field hands command the field owner to appear at their whims? Or does not rather the field owner reveal himself when it suits him? You are my father's guests, I will remind you; whatever has happened in Isfahan, there is no call to discard decorum. For my part, I will await my father and share nothing until-"

Snorting, her face hot from giving voice to her frustration, Razin's mouth snapped shut like a trap as her mother cleared her throat. Mila, collected and calm and unflappable in the face of accusations and aggressive fury, had not given way to offense as Razin had. Instead, she answered with grace, and with honesty, and with humility. The picture of a perfect hostess, a perfect wife, holding her family pride while still navigating the complex waters of humble truth.

Razin was none of these things. Frankly disgusted at the way her mother didn't defend her family honor, she dropped into the nearest cushioned seat. If these- vagabonds would act in such a manner, she was not about to give them a guest's courtesy. Even if her mother did. The leather envelope with the map, she slid beneath her, sitting on it. It wouldn't do for those two to take it from her.

Yet, as Habbas finally emerged from whatever hole he had dove into, Razin merely held up the leather case, proffering it to him.

"Forget something, Abba?"

 

[Doctor Jax]

Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

Immediately, the scholar knew something was wrong as Mila struggled to keep her composure. She was not prone to being so unsettled, and his ire was immediate as the Lion Aspect and the larger of the human men began to interrogate his kinswoman.

"You will speak to the lady with respect," Hama snapped, stepping forward towards Alim. "She is obviously distressed— you've no right to berate her."

And with Habbas gone, that meant that Mohamed remained the only man of their blood here, aside from perhaps the guards around the compound.

In response, Alim glared at the man with genuine incredulity. Turning to the scholar with conviction and annoyed surprise still present on his face, the man fired back.

"Did you not just hear what he said?" Alim gestured to the lion-man. "There is major unrest within the city - soon they will seal the city gates, and then there goes our expedition! Habbas is missing, and you want to waste time with niceties?"

"The unrest is expected, and should the city gates be sealed, there are surely other ways out of the city!" Hama shot back. "What good does it do us to harass a woman who knows not where her husband has gone? My kinsman is no fool, and if he left he had a good reason. Should he come back, I doubt he would be so happy to see his wife thrown in distress by his crew!"

He was nearly nose to nose with Alim by now, unwilling to let the indignity stand, especially towards a woman with such standing. He was nothing if not a gentleman— regardless of the wisdom of that chivalry. It did irk him Habbas was gone at so crucial a moment, but he wasn't about to let Alim know that.

The outlaw knew better than to back down in a verbal spat. "Oh, and I presume you know all about getting out of a sealed city? You think it's that easy, o 'worldly scholar'? If your kinsman was such a wise man, and his disappearance so calculated, how does his own wife not know the reason?"

And to this Hama had no good answer. Habbas was not usually so disorganized, and it was rare he would not share his whereabouts with Mila. His doubt was briefly upon his face.

"Surely, you have left without so much as a word to the ones you love, if only for their own protection," Mohamed reasoned, though it was evident he was jarred by the question. "Habbas' proposition is one of great import, and many are sure to have their eyes upon us. Perhaps things did not go as planned. And perhaps he shall return to us and explain."

But where did that leave them? What if he did not? His thoughts turned to Ananias' Square, the little he'd told him that first night of Huvarshta.

Alim's left eye twitched ever so slightly at the mention of leaving his loved ones - who was this man to judge him for his assumed actions (even if he did leave some loved ones on his path)? But Hama's words did have merit - Habbas Al-Farsi struck Alim as a disciplined man, one not too fond of leaving people behind without explanation, or changing plans on a whim.

The only conclusion he could come up with was that Habbas had been captured - or he'd sold out the whole group just to get Alim out in the open. His eyes immediately took to the rooftops, giving every window a double take to check for archers or observers - snapping back to the front entrance as Habbas reappeared.

For the nth time in his life, Alim felt a pang of paranoia strike him in the gut, visibly pushing him a step away from the man of the hour. It also didn't help that Habbas appeared angry. For now, the Yafir boy thought himself prudent to stay silent, while the others spoke.

Mohamed, however, was far more cheerful in his reception, at first confused at who, exactly, Alim had seen before setting his sights upon the older man. He skirted past Alim, his relief evident.

"Habbas! We were just waiting up for you. It seems we all have run into quite the setback. They're sealing the city, for what reason I do not know— ah, but… it's not like you to be late, or difficult to find," Hama stated, plunging right in. "Mila was worried sick, and our compatriots—"

He looked back to Alim.

"— questioned the wisdom of leaving so abruptly," he finished, before turning back to Habbas.

And then, the penultimate question.

"Where have you been?"

@Kuno

 

[MiharuAya]

Errol Demir​

The moment that Errol passed through the gates, he collapsed to his knees in exhaustion. His lungs burned for air, as he swallowed down deep breaths. Even though he knew the guards would be hesitant to follow them into a scholar's private residence, he was still on edge. With eyes scanning his surroundings, his heartbeat refused to slow. "That…was...close…" He panted, a shaky hand rubbing the sweat from his forehead.

In little time, more members he had met the previous day arrived. It was quickly made apparent that they had also run into trouble while trying to get to the compound. The concern and worry clearly showed on their faces. With the panic in the streets now leaking through the thick stone walls, everyone was looking to the de facto leader Habbas for answers. Yet, he was nowhere to be found.

The voices of the man with who he had traversed the market, along with the lion aspect began frantically questioning Habbas' wife. Errol listened quietly, though it seemed even she was unaware of her husband's whereabouts. "So...he is just gone?" Errol asked, his brows scrunching together with a look of disbelief. It seemed as though the chaos wasn't isolated to the market.

With another man's arrival, he abruptly stepped between the woman and the men interrogating her. The tension in the courtyard grew as the two men argued back and forth. Errol slowly started to take steps backward, debating whether it would simply be better to abandon this quest now. After all, without a leader and infighting amongst the members, he was starting to conclude that this expedition was already doomed.

Just as he was about to excuse himself, he caught sight of the familiar figure of Habbas. As Habbas' kinsman welcomed the man and asked the question that had been on all their minds. Errol followed up with another, "Did something happen?" as he looked the man up and down.

 

[Applo]

Stepping back into the courtyard, Asra was met with a scene she did not recognize. When a servant had gently led her to a private room to wash away the worst of the grime that coated her face, Agha Al-Farsi had been missing and his wife under siege. Now the patriarch had returned and he was facing a fresh barrage of questions. There was something else though. A tension in the air. Before, the household servants had been scurrying back and forth attending to their tasks. Now though, they were hiding at the edges of the courtyard, watching like fish in the moments after a spear had struck. Something had happened in her absence. What, the Puntling knew she might never know. There were more urgent matters to deal with.

"Agha Al-Farsi. I must apologise to you."

Despite her size, Asra's voice was as quiet as a child's when she saw an opportunity to address her host between the questions of her compatriots.

"There was some kind of disturbance in the city. Some guards drew weapons on me and I panicked and Rán. I don't think anyone followed me but… but…"

If eyes are the gateway to the soul, a well sized, heavily provisioned army could have matched through to Asra's. Given the hint of tears that were starting to form, sailing would have been a better option for all involved.

"I am sorry. I should leave before I bring trouble to your door and family."​

 

[Kuno]

HABBAS

How did the phrase go? To drive a point so far into redundancy that one likened it to "beating a dead horse"?

Habbas was neither dead nor a horse, but he ploughed ahead much like one, by all appearances ignoring the words directed his way as he reached the edge of the courtyard. The leather case Razin held out was grabbed without thought. Clearly, the man's mind was too preoccupied to question the offering, and he turned to look at the gathered peoples there, his scowl deep in its creases.

Someone had made the mistake of lighting a fire under the man.

"The apology is mine. I have wasted precious time running some- some fool's errand," Habbas said with agitated gesticulations. "I received a message last night, a summons to the Door. They said it was an emergency-"

A frustrated noise escaped him, and he dragged a hand through his beard, pulling aggressively.

"My apologies," He repeated finally, quieter. "I am glad to see you all here. I am sorry for my tardiness. I..trust this means you will be embarking on the expedition."

His eyes roved over each one of their faces, noting with growing graveness those who had returned for the expedition - and those who had not. Hama seemed distinctly peeved, and the man behind - one of the unseemly sorts, as the professor had monikered him - looked equally as unpleasant. Habbas had thought he had heard the raised voices of argument on the way in…

And then their words from before finally registered. He looked at Hama sharply.

"Is everything alright? You mentioned a disturbance-"

"We thought you were missing."

Habbas spun to face Mila, eyes widened. Her smile was small and strained.

"What?"

"Your study...someone ransacked it. And they say there was a disturbance in the square," Mila continued, her voice heavy with relief. "Of course, we worried. You were nowhere to be found."

"What? Is everyone alright?"

"Yes, love. Manu was frazzled, but we knew better than to lose our heads over this."

Regret filled his face. "I'm sorry...the note- I should have told you last night. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Nonsense. It's alright."



"Mila…"

His eyes missed nothing. He stared for a moment, a message in his gaze, but Mila shook her head and threw a pointed look towards his company, thus giving a message of her own: Attend to your guests first. Always a woman of principal first, she was.

Briefly, Habbas opened the leather case Razin had given him, inspecting its contents. Upon seeing the newly repaired map, the man's brows furrowed, and he closed it slowly.

But of course. It all made sense now.

He peered up from beneath shaggy brows, taking in the questions lying in everyone's eyes. He sighed deeply.

"I'm sorry. I promise that we will discuss this matter and any questions you might have at length outside the city. Right now, it is imperative we reach the docks. I've arranged for transport there beyond the current restraints in place. Naudar, my assistant, is there to secure our exit route." Suddenly Habbas was moving, drawing in closer to the party members, and dropping his voice, he added, "When you get there, you'll see a black building at the end - the Docking Office. Go just behind it; Naudar will be waiting there. Try...try and avoid the guards if you can. Split up, if you must."

Swiftly, he turned and moved towards his wife, pulling her in beside him.

"I just have one thing to finalize," Habbas threw over his shoulder. "I'll be right behind you."

 

[Red Thunder]

The Mischief Maker
and
The Career Criminal
a collab with @Kabboom ​

Her face betrayed nothing, the haughty upturn of her mouth unmoving even as Habbas accepted the repaired map, and her poise still relaxed and confident. Curiosity filled her eyes, though. Curiosity and deep, uncharacteristic concern. They watched her father carefully, seeking some answer to the man's loss of presence.

None presented itself. At Habbas' instructions and effective dismissal, Razin called a vague farewell to him, drifted to standing, and floated over to Alim, pausing only to give Hama a good natured punch on his shoulder.

"Surely, now that your- ehm, concerns have been addressed by the return of the Al-Farsi patron, your heart may rest easy?" For being so short, Razin had the distinct and unnerving ability to look down her nose at even those surpassing her in height. The vaguely haughty smile returned. "If events have not unnerved you or caused you to reconsider the adventure, perhaps you would accompany me to the Docks?"

The man simply flinched in response, snapping out of his shocked torpor at the sight of Habbas. His paranoid ramblings were temporarily cast aside, and replaced with snarky thoughts about the brazen Razin. Who was she to strut around like that? She thinks herself in charge? His mind fumed, but his face tried not to show it - not too much, anyway.

Mulling it over for a second, he found no harm in this upstart girl following him to the docks. Hell, this might be his chance to suss her out, see how skilled she is at the things that will matter on this expedition - maybe he'll break her in. "Fine. Just don't fall behind me."

"You honor me, Esteemed One!" She genuflected, with perhaps a touch more effort than was perfectly necessary. "I shall meet you at the compound gate in ten minutes. Forgive me, sir; having rushed to the courtyard to aid my mother in the reception of her guests, I have quite neglected the finer points of travel preparation."

Without waiting for a reply, she slipped away, weaving effortlessly through the crowd. Alim nodded a nominal goodbye to the other companions before coming to a stop right near the gate. Ignoring the side-eye from the gate guard, Alim focused on the exterior of the building. Once relatively satisfied that he's not going to eat an arrow the moment he walked out, Alim then checked his gear. Knives were secured in their places, armor clasps locked tightly against each other, satchel untouched by unwanted hands - the insurgent finished up just before his accomplice returned.

She was a minute early. The thin gown of linen was gone in favor of thicker cloth; though heavier and therefore hotter in the climate, it would wear and tear less easily. A skirt of desert brown opened at her shins, and about her shoulders lay a wrap of sky blue. A hood of the same shade kept the sun from her head. Across her back, Razin had shifted a pack of some age and use, and she leaned on her staff as was her wont.

"Kindly sir, your patience is most appreciated!" Razin's eyes twinkled, and she smiled very sincerely. Less ostentatious than she previously appeared, she wouldn't stick out in a crowd quite as much as before, though what mannerisms she would display might undo all that. "By your leave, sir. I shall follow you."

With a heavy sigh, a disappointed yet unsurprised Alim set off without a word. His eyes kept to the streets and windows, only occasionally darting back to check if Razin hadn't strayed off. His current plan was to stick to the alleyways: city guards are usually on high alert after a protest - but also hilariously understaffed for patrolling the areas they should really look into. Allah knows that Alim has evaded many a search just by existing inside a hookah shop or an alleyway. He had a vague memory of where the Docks were - but Razin had been here for much, much longer than he.

The veteran came to an abrupt stop in a dark alley, conveniently behind a few barrels. With a deep breath, he turned around with every shred of patience he had, and committed to the thought of directly talking to Razin. "How do we get to the Docks from here?"

"You missed the fastest turn two streets back, but I assumed you were being more stealthy."

Razin had followed Alim with quiet reservation, walking less furtively than her companion and eyeing him askance as he'd dart forward. Habbas might have been surprised, and indeed Mila would have asked if her daughter were feeling well, but Razin only ever gave items or people of interest a passing glance and a smile. She stopped only once to exchange pleasantries (and some small wit) with a builder of wind chimes. The sound of rain had drawn her attention, and she couldn't help but to ask about the lovely noise the merchant's creations had made.

"From here, the best way would be to sprout wings and fly- that way." Razin answered Alim, pointing to the left of their heading. She hopped onto the closest barrel, puffing a little at the effort. "Of course, we could backtrack and take the street- Lane of Sorrows, I think: it passes by a mourning house. But in a moment; I need a small rest, and you do move so- aggressively.

"I confess: apart from what I gather by watching you, I don't know a thing about you, save your name." Staff planted on the ground, she leaned against it, pressing the wood against her cheek. "You move with familiarity of alleyways, yet you ask me, the house waif, for directions. You are odd, Alim."

Hiding his bitterness at Razin's refusal to divulge information (as if he would've liked to hear her snark about it), Alim simply tried his best to gently pull her off the barrel. They couldn't be seen, didn't she know that?! Wiping his hands on his robe as if tainted with Razin's infectious inexperience, he felt rather justified as he saw the familiar uniforms of a lone city guard hurtling down the street behind the two. Not that he would've seen Razin, but it did prove his point. "No one told you that either, I see. I don't stay in cities like these - men like me don't stay free for long within the city walls."

The man hunched himself over to get down to eye level with Razin. Her upstart attitude needed to be blunted - before she started something Alim couldn't run away from. "Your words grate on my ears greatly. They grate on other peoples' ears as well. Perhaps if you'd remember your father's words, of listening instead of speaking, then maybe I would be more charitable."

She sighed the long-suffering sigh of the patient parent with the impatient child even as she allowed herself to be pulled to standing.

"And if you would listen, I told you where to proceed. This was, of course, before our latest guests."

Standing beside Alim, Razin cast her gaze about them. The barrels were stacked against the plaster wall of a building several stories high: their alley path had thus ended against it, branching off both right and left. She grabbed his wrist with a strength that belied her stature and pulled him to the right.

"Why does everyone hate pleasantries?" she wondered aloud. Her pace, hitherto leisurely, had quickened to a fast walk, though whether from the obvious presence of the guard or the encouragement of her companion was unclear. The alley turned back to the left, then to the left again. It branched off in several places, streams seeking the river of people among the shops and houses, but Razin held to the alleys. Faint at first, the sting on the nose of salt in the air became more obvious, and the general shouts and raised voices of the port reached them.

"Patience is a virtue, sir," she said, a bit breathless. "Though perhaps virtue is a foreign concept to-"

She cut herself off, turning to stare ahead to the water. She'd long since released Alim's wrist.

Alim had stayed silent throughout the trip - out of fear, out of shock, out of practice, not even he knew. Razin had proven to be bolder than he'd previously judged, and with her strong grip, he was somewhat relieved that she had some bite to back up her bark. His noses were still flared up, the only sign of his unpreparedness throughout the detour - the stone-faced persona went back on the very moment Razin dragged him into sunlight. Now that they've arrived, however…

"You've no right to be this stupid! Do you have any idea how reckless our little walk was?! First you moan about your annoying 'pleasantries', then you drop all sense of self-preservation at the drop of a pin? And by that, what in Allah's name were you even talking about?" Alim raised his pitch, mocking her voice, "Why does everyone hate pleasantries? Patience is a virtue," before returning to his own natural voice. "The world does not give a damn about your pleasantries, nor your ramblings. If you really, really wish to go on this expedition and not be killed or worse, then I'd expect you to actually listen to people. Or you can go rambling about ideals again, whichever suits your particular fancy, lady." Alim mock-bowed to her with that last word.

His rage was unexpected, even for him. Alim couldn't place a finger on why this woman irked him so. Perhaps his anger was rooted in the ramblings of a mad paranoid, who thought that deception was akin to food and water in its necessity. Perhaps he hated that he was in a city full of people who wanted his head on a stake, and Razin treated it like a dainty stroll in her garden on a lovely day. Perhaps he hated being led by a woman. His anger, like a starved beast, growled and rolled around in his mind, outraged that it had not been fed a reason why.

Razin stared at him, lips pursed slightly, taking purposefully long breaths. She leaned against her black staff, exuding informality. But her eyes were hard.

"Are you quite through?" she asked, finally filling the air with something other than the ambiance of the ocean. When there was no response forthcoming, she continued. "Shall we do this now? Very well. Your first complaint. By 'pleasantries', I meant 'politeness', a term with which you seem wildly unfamiliar. My point was that rudeness is in large part unacceptable and accomplishes nothing save embittering people to others. Obviously you have made such dear friends with your- honeyed demeanor, such a concept is foreign to you.

"To your second point." Her face was beginning to take on a light shade of red, though whether from the heat, the exertion of travel, or the effort of keeping herself in check wasn't clear. She was taking very deep breaths, and her voice had a chill to it. "You have said precisely nothing on our little jaunt save to critique my manner of communication, choosing to ignore my answers to requests for directions, insisting that I don't listen or don't hurry or draw too much attention when you have given nothing of yourself to indicate to me that I should not be doing any of those things. Oh, save that 'men like me don't stay free for long within the city walls'."

As Alim had before, Razin's voice took on a tone that wasn't her's, deepening in vague mockery. Their tiff was drawing a small crowd; fishermen, dock workers, and even a cloth merchant were staring at them curiously, and a few whispered to each other. Razin did not seem to notice.

"Either you're an insurgent or a criminal, I guess, since you've neglected to tell me anything apart from your name. Abba involved you for a reason, and though he creeps toward senile, he is not yet a fool. Far from it. And yet: 'A nation's defense fails for the integrity of one messenger.' If you insist that everyone kowtow to you without your pulling your own weight or even acknowledging the efforts of others, kindly dismiss yourself from our fellowsh-"

The turbaned head of a guard appeared about a corner, customary spear in hand. Gray of beard and lined of face, he looked unconcerned. An onlooker was speaking to him, and suddenly gestured toward the two travelers. Razin looked away from them quickly, cursing.

Alim took note of her eye movement, and almost cursed with her. His hand, which itched with the urge of violence from Razin's provoking words, now reached for her hand as he sought a way out of sight. Mustering only a weak "This way" as he walked as quickly as she could follow. More people from the crowd started assisting the guard at this, however, which rushed the man even more. Barely turning the corner as the dock guard - accompanied by more than Alim could personally handle in a fight - managed to muscle through the small audience, the pair found refuge in a small crevice between shipping goods. "This matter will wait until we are clear of them," Alim grudged out after holding in his breath, letting go of her hand. The two went through a few more twists and turns through the dockyards; after the short detour, they seemed to be both clear of guards, and closer to Naudar's position.

Finally sure that no more guards or curious bystanders would interrupt them, Alim turned back to Razin. Fixing his robe as an afterthought, he found himself stumped with the Al-Farsi girl; people don't usually fight back with such fervor and strength. Those who insulted him verbally usually earned a stab or two in the back, but Razin was part of the expedition by blood relation. She had him, and he knew it.

As Alim had before, Razin allowed herself to be dragged along, indeed shuffling her feet in an effort to keep up. The man could move, when the mood took him, it seemed. She didn't seem particularly winded, though there was certainly sweat on her forehead. She took a moment to look about them. Shipping crates blocked her view back where they had come, and the guard was well out of sight. Humming to herself, she checked the crates about her, looking for openings through or around them. It appeared, at least to her brief check, that they were at something of a deadend, if indeed they were hidden for the moment.

"Why even are the guards trying to look for us, I wonder," she mused, chin in her free hand, more to herself than Alim. A moment later, her eyes flashed to him, twinkling in mischief rather than greed. "Just how big is your bounty, hm?"

Alim simply stood there, defeated by his inability to match her tongue, and now annoyed by her persistence. "I am not that popular. Maybe you should check your own mouth before you accuse men of bounties."

"You're not the first to say it. Perhaps there is truth in what you say.

"Anyway," Razin said, clicking her tongue with the impatience of an expectant child. "Where are we to even find Naudar? Some office, yes?"

Reinvigorated by the change of subject, Alim stood taller again. "Behind the Docking Office. You're quite the attentive listener." Hazarding a peek outside the comfort of the shipping crates, he laid eyes on the target: a black building at the end of the docks - right where Habbas said it would be. The coast looked clear too; those guards must've given up after their fourth pile of empty crates. Glancing back to Razin, he motioned his head to the dock office. "Shall we?"

 

[Doctor Jax]

Mohammed Ibn-Sina​

Unsatisfactory.

That was the first thing that came to Mohammed's mind as he watched his kinsman essentially ignore every question thrown at him. An errand? A summons? What could be so important that he would abandon a team right from the outset? Alas, it seemed he wasn't even aware of the ransacking of his own office, and that was questionable on its own. Things were not adding up, and there had been few times he felt their expedition could be so disorganized.

He wanted to shake the answers out of him, but they were in front of the rest of their party. That would hardly be wise, to put on a show of distrust and discontent. No, he would wait to pounce on him. As he watched the other man leave, letting them to make their way to the Docks, he did his best to hide his misgivings -- though he did end up getting a solid punch to the arm from Razin. He made a face and gave her a long-suffering look -- before noticing her walk up to Alim to talk.

His eyes narrowed. Razin always did love trouble. And Alim reeked of it.

He busied himself, speaking to one of the guards, gleaning a bit of information about the break-in - only that the place had been sacked this morning - but his eye was always on the two. The Bird Aspect and the Puntling seemed harmless enough, but Alim was... another story. As the two finally left, Hama waited several minutes, checking his bags... and then following them.

The scholar was not only an academic. Expeditions in which one was not prepared for possible danger had forced Hama into developing skills most doctors would have no need for... like how to tail someone. He was no expert, but he knew to be casual, to doff his turban and go bareheaded, and to maintain a distance behind the pair. He did not need to hear what they were saying - only to make sure Razin wasn't up to trouble herself in the process of such a simple task.

Alas, an expert he needed to be. It was evident Alim was more experienced in being tracked than Hama was the tracker. Down the winding alleys, at a turn, a guard walked through, and Hama was forced to pretend interest in the door of a rugseller. By then, they had already gone, and he gave a tired sigh. Yet, that said, as he moved to continue down the alley, he did find something else of value.

Tacked to a wall in a far busier intersection, he found a poster, bearing an image of a certain Turk. Hama's eyebrows met as he read undoubtedly an alias, along with his charges. Distribution of weapons and connections of sedition... He worried at his lip, looking about, before snatching the poster, rolling it and tucking it away into his bag. The scholar continued on his way, weaving through the alleys, barely glancing for guards at this point. He had little fear of arrest, the university seal more than enough to make most guards think twice -- well, in Isfahan anyhow.

At last, he exited onto the main thoroughfare by the docks, and he made for the black Customs Office to meet Naudar, and hopefully Razin and the rest as well.

 

[MiharuAya]

Asra & Errol​

While the man muttered about some fool's errand, Errol peered intently with a raised brow. Although it appeared that the excursion was unproductive, the youth was curious what might have been so important as to draw their leader away on the eve of their expedition. In spite of that looming urge to question Habbas, a more pressing thought came to Errol's mind.

As others explained the chaos plugging the streets, the notion that this was simply all a coincidence was doubtful. It all just seemed too perfect that Habbas was drawn out of his home while it was being ransacked, while on the day they are meant to depart the streets are overrun with guards and the city locked down. If this was all pure fate, Errol wondered how the rest of their journey would fare.

Even though there were still many uncertainties, Habbas gave directions to head towards the docks. With the state of the city, it would likely not be an easy task. Errol still had his reservations, but at this point, he would rather take the opportunity to leave before any more bad situations occur.

Errol's bright amber eyes glanced around the group. He was hesitant to make the trip alone, knowing that he would be in grave danger if he was caught or cornered. However, the aspect wasn't willing to travel with just anyone. Errol still didn't trust these strangers, even if he did need their help.

The youth's first thought was to partner with the other aspect, figuring that he would be safer with someone of like kind. But, the lion was nowhere to be found. When his gaze landed on the Puntling, he felt reassured that she would be just as good, if not better as they might make up for each other's weaknesses.

As he came towards her, he bowed his head before meeting her gaze. "Excuse me, would you like to accompany each other to the docks?" His voice was light and friendly, while his lips wore a bashful grin.

"Uh, Are you certain?"

As Asra looked down at the slight figure of the bird aspect, her mind couldn't fully process what they had asked her. She had been expecting shouting, recrimination. At the very least, Asra had been expecting to be asked to leave. None of that had happened. Agha Al-farsi had taken her admission in his stride without missing a step. Part of the Puntling wondered if her employer had even heard her.

"The guards are not happy with me I think and it is hard for me to hide in this city, little one. Anyone with me might be at risk from the watch for being near me."

As Errol peered up at the tall woman, his neck felt strained. It was difficult trying to maintain his confident persona when feeling like a child next to a giant. Though, he shook the thought from his mind, as he nodded along to her words. While normally he would have taken offense to the nickname 'little one,' he let it slide. When spoken on her tongue, it was gentle and didn't give him the impression that she was chastising him.

"I am most sure," He responded assuredly. "I believe they might be unhappy with myself as well," Errol explained. "If we both are being hunted, we would cause less trouble to our compatriots by traveling together." Just from the few moments they had spent together, Errol could tell that Asra was a kind soul who just like himself, wouldn't want to potentially be a burden to the others.

"And, we could watch each other's back." He added, flashing a reassuring grin. "What do you say?" As Errol asked, he wanted to give her the chance to decline if she was still feeling weary. Though, he hoped that she wouldn't.

For several long moments, Asra was almost entirely still while unseen, her mind raced. There was a truth in the aspect's words. If they too were hunted by the city guards then perhaps they were suited to travel together. It would certainly keep the wrong kind of attention from their companions and two pairs of eyes could watch for trouble better than one.

Still, though, Asra hesitated. Errol could no doubt slip through the city unseen. She had watched the little aspect slip into Agha Al-farsi compound over the wall rather than through the gates. Clearly, they were used to staying out of sight. The problem was that Asra was not and, even if she were it would be almost impossible anywhere but Punt. No matter how skillful Errol might be at passing unnoticed, it would outweigh Asra's lack of ability. That should have been reason enough for Asra to refuse the little one's offer but something in the eyes of the aspect was stopping her from doing that. They seemed keen, eager even to travel with another. To disappoint them based on her own fears, no matter how well-founded, would be a terrible thing to do to a companion. At the Puntling's side, her fingers fidgeted against her palms, perhaps the only visible sign of the inner conflict.

"Very well."

Almost as suddenly as Errol had arrived in front of her, a wave of relaxation spread over the Puntlings body. Lowering herself to her knees so that her gaze was level with that of the aspect's Asra took the little one's hands in her own and let a gentle smile spread across her face.

"We shall be traveling companions today. I do have a condition though, little one. If I tell you to run, you must. You must run and not stop to look back, yes. I will not have my mistakes land on your back, you understand."

The sudden movement caught Errol off guard, his head tilting to the side as he watched Asra take to her knees in front of him. It took a moment to register in his mind that she was lowering herself to his level. Although part of him wanted to sulk about the gesture, he could see the tenderness in her eyes.

Errol kindly reached to take her hand in his, "If it will ease your mind, I will agree to your condition." He responded softly. Although he said this, in the back of his mind he knew that he couldn't keep his promise. It just wasn't in him to abandon someone for the sake of saving his own skin.

"That is good of you to say."

The gentle smile on Asra's face stretched into a toothy grin as her legs unfolded and once again lifted the Puntling to her full height.

"It would be wise to leave soon I think. Our journey may be longer than our friends. If you are ready I am."

"Yes, let's make haste," Errol spoke and began moving towards the large gates at the front of the manor.

~~~~~​

Prophets are the ones best suited to make sure that their divinations come to pass. The mismatched duo's journey through the city was just as Asra had predicted a slow and labyrinthian affair due in no small part to the Puntling's paranoia.

Almost from the moment, the partners stepped foot out of the Al-farsi compound she was ushering her companion down the city's darkest back alleys. Every junction was treated with the same suspicion as an unfamiliar mushroom; every clang of metal like the roar of a wild beast after sunset; every long stare like the tip of a bandit's blade. Above Asra and Errol's head, almost unseen through the canopy of fabric and stone, the sun traveled long across the sky as the pair moved like rats caught in a maze.

As the pair moved with caution, they inched closer towards their destination. The outburst at the market left the streets agitated, as an uncertain aura loomed overhead. With each person the pair passed, they appeared to be equally on edge and avoidant of anything that might be deemed conspicuous.

While they moved in silence, Errol kept his senses alert. With his light frame, he was able to stay hidden in the shadows far easier than his compassion. Though, rather than scurrying off on his own, he stuck close to the Puntling. The only time he would leave her side was when he would scout ahead for alternative routes.

The faint sound of voices caused Errol's sensitive ears to perk, his head tilting to the side to listen closely as he halted his steps. "Wait," He whispered to Asra, lifting a hand to stop her from advancing. The voices seemed to be coming from around the corner, at the intersection that they needed to cross.

With light-footed steps, Errol crept towards the corner and peeked his head around. In the middle of the intersection sat a group of people with their hands tied behind their backs. As he examined them, the prisoners were covered in sand and obvious fresh wounds. A few paces next to the prisoners stood a cluster of armed city guards keeping watch. On occasion when a stray person would pass, the guards would stop to interrogate them.

As Errol watched for a few moments, it was quite a pitiful scene. While some begged for forgiveness with tears in their eyes, others shouted profanities. It seemed as though even women and children were not spared from the iron rod and whips. A rage built inside of him, as he noted that each person appeared to be a foreigner.

Errol quietly retreated to where he had left Asra, "This is most unfavorable," He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in thought. "They are blocking our path," Even though it might be safer to retrace their steps and attempt to find another route, the day was already nearing its end and the guards would likely be bountiful wherever they went.

"Who?"

The look of concern that spread across Asra's face was easy to read even in the semi darkness of the alley that the pair were in.

"Do we need to go back? I think if we went left at tha-"

"We need a distraction," He concluded. As Errol lifted his gaze in thought, his eyes scanning the rooftops, an idea struck him. "Do you think you could lift me up to the roof?"

"The roof? No, we should go back, yes?"

Despite the situation they were in, part of Asra was curious about what her companion was up to. If they had been somewhere safer she might have pressed the bird aspect to explain what they were planning.

"Won't we stand out more on the roof?"

Errol walked towards the stone building, eyeing the distance from the ground to the top. While it would be difficult to get to the prisoners in the intersection at his current position without the guards noticing if he could get around the building he would simply be able to drop down behind them.

"I have an idea, do you trust me?"

"Yes, of course."

The answer came to the question spilled from Asra's lips a little too quickly to be entirely convincing. If she were to be truthful, she didn't quite know what to make of Errol yet. They seemed like a kind and good soul, but Asra had not met a good person who seemed quite so at home skulking in the shadows as her companion. At the same time though, the aspect had yet to give Asra a reason to doubt them and it would be a wicked thing to do to judge a person because of baseless suspicions. Perhaps, if those nasty little thoughts in the back of her mind were right, that was all the more reason to trust Errol right now.

"Just be careful little one, OK."

Reaching forwards, Asra cupped her hands around the waist and hoisted them up to her shoulders. The lightness of her companion took her by surprise, but as she had been taught so long ago on these matters, Asra bit down on the exclamation that started to roll itself from her tongue.

While Errol stood on Asra's shoulders, his hands reached up towards the top of the building. As his fingers scraped the edge, he was able to pull himself up with his minimal strength. Before leaving, he peeked over the edge to Asra, "Don't worry, I'll be back quickly." He knew that the other was hesitant about his plan, but he was confident he could pull it off.

Errol waited until the guards were preoccupied with harassing a passing merchant before he dropped down. As he fell, his wings fluttered under his cape as he softly landed on the ground. The prisoners watched him in disbelief, some even muttering under their breaths. Though, before they could speak Errol put a single finger to his lips to silence them.

The youth swiftly pulled his blade from its sheath, slicing through the rope with ease. Once everyone was free, he quietly directed them to scatter. "Go!" In a flash, chaos erupted in the intersection as the prisoners took off in every direction. While the guards took off after them, Errol called out to Asra, "Let's go!" Errol waited for Asra to reach him before the pair took off together.

"What did you do?"

If she had been running at full speed, Asra would never have had enough breath to ask the question. At what was barely more than a jog though, the Puntling not only had enough breath, but the space in her mind to wonder about what she hadn't seen. She had lifted Errol onto the rooftops only for soon after a near stampede of bedraggled and terrified-looking people to stream past the archway she had tucked herself into.

"Just some proper justice," He answered as he sprinted. "They didn't deserve..to be treated like that...so I let them free." The words came in slow bunches, as he struggled to run and speak at the same time.

As they ran, Errol occasionally looked back, checking to see if any guards had followed them. However, after some time it appeared they were in the clear. While Errol slowed his pace, his breathing was labored from the running. "I think we are safe," He panted out, his amber eyes still scanning the area suspiciously.

"The docks should be just up ahead," With the threat of the guards behind them, the view of the blue sea against the bright sun was a comfort to finally see.

 

[Kuno]

Naudar? I Hardly Know Her

Truly, one of the hidden pearls of persia was Isfahan's bustling shipyard.

It was unremarkable at a quick glance. But even here, the Persians sought to inflect every tiled stone and hewed wood with the prosperity they had come to enjoy. Rarely were docks so clean, so orderly, so functional. Interspersed throughout the sailors and sight-seers milling about and over the water were robed men in matching plumed hats; Dock Inspectors, as they were called officially. By the will of the shah, Isfahan was to remain unscathed in its image. Like the pricks of gnats, these men scurried about the shipyard surveying its contents, making sure unseemly items were not dropped into the waters and ensuring all denizens were duly mindful of the messes they made. Native city dwellers had more or less grown to tune them out. Foreign sailors utterly despised them.

"No running!" An Inspector with a gold-tipped beard yelled after Errol. His face was a practiced scowl. "You and your friend-"
Abruptly, he noticed Asra's pronounced stature. Gulping, he grew silent and drew away, opting instead to hiss at a sailor for carelessly dropping his cigar. In answer, he received a rude gesture.

The Docking Office loomed from the end of the harbor. Arguably, it was rather odd in design. Said to have been built by the son of Xerxes himself, legend has it the king wanted something reminiscent of his father's storied shield. From the ground up, the obsidian building is entirely dome-shaped. Four gold plated doors were fashioned at north, south, east, and west sides of the building, and at the top of the Office was once a large opening to allow natural sunlight. Glass had since been placed above to make a gilded roof, and the Empire's emblem was posted atop it, jauntily waving in the breeze.

It wasn't hard to pinpoint Naudar. Out of the rougher looking characters and tradesmen moving to and fro, a finely dressed young man stood squarely before the west doors, his gaze surreptitiously roving about the throngs of men.

As the party members drew near to the door, Naudar looked at each of them in return, his eyes haughty. There was a weighty silence.

"Are you the ones Habbas collected?" He finally asked. His lips twitched a bit at that. "He instructed me to wait here for his people. I'm assuming by this group's…diversity that that must be you."

A sneer came to his face.

"Don't know why. None of you look capable."

--------------------------

One never really associated Isfahan - the city of lights, joy, and splendor - with the Empire it belonged to. Not while there in the city. Imperial rule was easily forgotten in the spirits and revelries; one hardly noticed the nondescript guards dotting nearly every gate and road, or the winged shadows of the griffins passing overhead. Crime was not so much stopped as it was choked mercilessly, unseen by the normal, day-to-day citizen.

Ayaz, of course, had noticed. But just a moment too late.

Should it have surprised him? Certainly not. He was a criminal by trade. This was the poisoned chalice from which he had chosen to drink. What he could possibly bemoan was the timing of it all; he'd only been a city block or so away from Habbas' home when the woman had shown up. Plain in a way that would best be eased by smiling, but the frown lines by her thin lips had suggested she did little of such. Thick, dark brown hair had been pulled back into a severe bun away from her face, and she'd been dressed in regular day robes - barring for the barely concealed sheathed dagger at her hip. Ayaz had noticed that immediately.

Just a moment too late.

The guard did not so much as blink as the woman dragged his unconscious body into the quiet Detainment Tower. Others on the street had stared unabashedly at such a small woman pulling that much weight - but not him. He knew who she was.

He didn't even move to assist her. "Welcome, Eme. Who is this?"

"I'm not quite sure. But he was-" She grunted a bit as she hefted Ayaz up into a stand "-seen with Alim. I plan to question him."

"Oh my," came the guard's droll reply.

There were several Detainment towers scattered throughout the several. Citizens knew them as temporary jails of sorts for persons under investigation, but the conspiracy theorists fingered them for clandestine meetings for the cabal of sadistic Headmen. True - the Headmen did frequent the towers. But no one really knew why.

Theirs was a silent Tower. The goodwill of the Shah during Huvarshta meant scant traffic in the cells, and Eme chose one at random to drop Ayaz into. Behind her, the guard had risen from his desk to close the front door, a whistle petering from his lips. Then, systematically, he went to seal the front windows of the office and close the curtains before very carefully rolling up the entryway rug and cramming it against the crack under the door.

Interrogations could be a nasty bit of business. It was best not to let any passerby hear something...strange.

 

[A Crow]

ENAYA

Enaya forced himself to reel in his negative energy, to calm down and think rationally. He regretted being so forward and rather disrespectful to the wife of his propositioner, but even apologizing would be useless now. Habbas appeared seemingly unharmed, though he had a nasty expression on his face. Someone who had just had their time and energy wasted. Enaya was very familiar with that look, and that specific emotion. He watched and listened to Habbas and Mila, but something in his mind sparked instantly. For Enaya, solving puzzles was a hobby. Not to mention, he'd always been good at picking up details that others would seem to overlook whether it be intentional or not.

What caught the hunter's attention was simply, yet not so simply the fact that Habbas's room had been ransacked... after he'd supposedly been sent on some "fool's errand," as he had put it. Well, that was already a huge red flag to Enaya, who wasn't even sure he wanted to risk his life for this trip anyway. Let alone if there's already suspected foul play. Someone knows about Habbas's trip, and somebody wants to sabotage him. It may as well have been written on a scroll and sat right before Enaya's eyes. What he needed to figure out then was where this hidden enemy lay. As he looked around and observed the group, having it in his mind to just abandon the mission altogether, his eyes caught on two unfavorable figures: Alim and Razin. Neither of them had he taken much of a liking to, and they were just a little too close for his comfort. He didn't like it at all. They both spelled trouble for this trip, whether it be fights amongst themselves due to conflicting personalities or dishonesty. Either way, he'd have to keep an eye out.

The Puntling woman was easy to mark as pure of heart. Enaya glanced over her quickly. Though she stood out from the rest of them, she was the least likely to bring any harm to Habbas' trip. The mere fact that she had shed tears over the possibility of causing trouble the Habbas household was proof enough that Enaya wouldn't have to worry about her. And Hama, Habbas's cousin, seemed like a man of strong morale. Another for-sure ally, though he wasn't sure of his views on Aspects. As long as he wouldn't have to worry about him harming anyone or anything, he wasn't someone Enaya would suspect of any trickery.

The others... Enaya was wary.

The only reason Enaya would stay now was not for the sake of the treasure, and being rewarded a lifetime of luxuries due to achieving such a great feat. No, rather, he was now going to stay to keep an eye on everyone. There was mischief in the air, and Enaya could smell it. He wasn't going to let this party go without his keen eye and mind.

Habbas basically dismissed the group and their questions, leaving them to their own devices. One basic goal in mind: Get to the docks without being seen. Easy enough, though most would like to discriminate and call names, very few people would make the attempt to do so in Enaya's face, or within his reach. Leaving Habbas's house with not very many answers at all, Enaya took a sharp left turn. He avoided sticking to the others, for they were much too likely to get him caught. Better to go alone.

.
.
.
.

Walking alone down the empty alleyways, headed towards the Docks, allowed Enaya some time to clear his head and keep thinking. He was sure he was going on this expedition now, but he wasn't sure of his destiny. His purpose, his role in all of this. Perhaps the Universe had aligned things this way so that he would guard the group. Maybe it was time to take a step out of the shadows and share his abilities with those who are in need of them. Perhaps Habbas held the Red String of Fate that was tied around Enaya's neck.

Sanura's voice echoed in the back of his mind.

"Whatever you decide to do, you will be great. This, you can be sure of."

Enaya gritted his teeth, his fists clenching at his sides. Every step he took made his shoulders feel heavier, yet his back stood straighter and straighter. He fought against that heaviness, that uneasiness and anxiety of not wanting to go. He'd never felt this unsure about anything. Enaya was always confident in his decisions, and he'd already made this one. Why did it make him hesitate so? Even avoiding the guards on the way to the Dock, this made his mind spin. If the Shah had sent them out to do this duty, why were they avoiding the guards? Were they not under the Shah's order? If not, then whose? Why did they have to do this in secret...? Sneaking around, not that Enaya wasn't good at it, but it didn't make him feel very good.

Before he knew it, the opulent Docking Office sat before him, lavish as it basked in the brilliant midday sun. Avoiding the bustle of the men that worked on the harbor, Enaya slid his way behind the office. He could see he was one of the first to arrive. He didn't go near the others, though it was clear he was intended to be there from where he stood. He crossed his arms across his chest, staring at each and every member of the party. He would hardly trust these people with his life. Honestly, he wanted to laugh. They were supposed to work together to find Xerxes' crown, but how exactly? He was sure they didn't trust him just as Enaya didn't trust any of them. This mission seemed destined to fail.

But maybe that was the point.

Maybe that was why Enaya was here.

The snide comment that came from who must have been Naudar didn't particularly throw the Aspect off guard, but it did catch a deep negative tone in his gut.

Great, Enaya thought. Another person with a pessimistic outlook.

Enaya huffed, a growl gurgling at the back of his throat. He tossed Naudar a displeased glare as he trudged past him, narrowly missing his shoulder. He stood against the wall, his eyes trained on the youth. He snarled again, forcing out a phrase his father would often pound into his head as a young cub.

"The way to achieve your own success is to be willing to help somebody else get it first," Enaya uttered, unblinking. His accent was heavy, and he couldn't help but shiver at how much he sounded like his father. "Perhaps knocking the foundation out from underneath is not the way to build strong."

Created by Jenamos

 

[Red Thunder]

​

"Shall we?"

Razin looked to Alim, the mischief still in her eyes.

"We shall," she said, winking. "Race you."

With a hup, she vaulted over the crates and dashed from the alley. This was no game of Tag, where freedom came from reaching the safety of the Shah's palace; the guards would be perfectly capable of following her into whatever refuge she might dive into, should they see her. She apparently didn't much care. As if a whirling dervish had taken the docks as his dance floor, Razin twisted, ducked, jumped, and generally scampered through the crowds. In the back of her mind, Razin heard the guard chastise another for the same sin she was committing, but she could not care. There was a freedom in such movement, a channeling of life itself. The salt breeze dried the sweat on her brow, cooling her head even as she danced, a caress of familiarity. As if to complete it, Razin came to a stop beside Naudar's door and gave a small bob of the head back in Alim's direction.

The reference to her father's name drew her attention to the task at hand. She spun about. Ah: Enaya, one of the Aspects, was speaking to a young man. A- a fop. Had her father actually had business with this- this-

"Better to knock out a foundation," she cooed as she drifted into the conversation, inserting herself, "than to build on a bad one."

Razin eyed Naudar with an apprehensive eye. Yes, a fop indeed. What was Habbas thinking, dragging this- dandy into their plans? And what could he possibly know about roughing it?

As if she was one to second guess him.

"'The ant is built of twigs, yet it lifts mountains in its determination.'" The young woman turned away from Naudar, disappointed. "And 'the ant who criticizes his brothers is left in the cold to die.'"

The ocean was lovely. Far away a better focus of attention than this man. Habbas would hear about this.

 

[MiharuAya]

Errol Demir​

With the dock in sight, Errol kept his pace steady as the soft sound of his pattering feet danced along the wooden dock. Although he was fairly certain that they had outrun the city guards, the adrenalin pumping through his veins would not let him rest until he reached his destination.

The gruff shout from an inspector was ignored with nothing more than a pointed petulant look, his speed accelerating as the Docking Office came into sight. If he hadn't been in such a hurry Errol would have stopped in his tracks to admire the sumptuous building. As the formidable dark obsidian rose from the ground, it left a daunting feeling inside of Errol. When he finally spotted the lion aspect from before, he sped to the man's side. With each labored breath, the salty sea stung his throat. His body bent at the waist, his hands clenching onto his knees for support as he huffed.

Errol's feathers ruffled when Nauders snide comment flung towards them. Although he was still attempting to catch his breath, he sent a sharp glare to the youth. This wasn't the first time that he had received such detestable words, but it was unnerving nonetheless. If they were to travel as a group, Errol was unsure if he could stand to be around such a small-minded person. Even so, Errol was thankful to have Enaya beside him. As the lion tossed back some insightful philosophy, Errol nodded along. "I second that," He spoke, his lips pursing together to form a tight line. "We should work together, not throw stones at each other."

As more of the group began to appear, Errol was eager to begin their journey and escape the capital without any more hassle. However, it seemed that with the remarks from Razin, that this group was destined for trouble even within itself.

 

[Applo]

The sight of the water was hypnotic. It always had been. It wasn't just the line where the sky met the sea that called to Asra. It was the whole world beneath that shimmering surface. It was a safe world; a peaceful world; a world that held you in its gentle grip, shielding one from the troubles of the surface. It was also a world of infinite adventure and discovery. Asra's clan had lived on the sea's bounty for generations untold, and yet the bay they lived in still had held secrets to reveal to the young Asra every time she had given into its siren call and slipped into its embrace. What secrets did these waters hold?

Even though she was positioned at the back of the group, Nadur would have had no trouble spotting the disinterest in him on Asra's face, even before the puntling turned her back. The man was rude and she was hot, tired and dirty. The good will that she could normally summon for new acquaintances was failing Asra. It had been sucked away by this leech of a city. Yes, she was leaving it, but not fast enough to resist the temptations of her own desires.

"You run fast, little one."

Kneeling down next to Errol, Asra beamed a smile at the aspect.

"I wish to go and find some comfort at the very end of the docks. Would you do me the favour of coming to fetch me when Agha Al-Farsi arrives? I would be very grateful.

With the bird aspect's assurance that they would fetch her, Asra made for where the maze of human structures finally gave way to the ocean. Dropping her small pack of belongings on the unnecessarily manicured planks, the puntling closed her eyes, letting the smell of the sea fill her lungs before taking step forwards into thin air. The sudden cool grasp of the water was like the hug of a loved one and by letting a stream of bubbles pass her lips Asra sunk into its hold.​

 

[Doctor Jax]

Mohammed Ibn Sina​

The doctor was quick to duck behind a corner as he saw the port guards harass sailors and citizen alike. He sneered, a rare expression of disgust, as he saw one swerve from chastising Errol and Asra to a sailor and his cigar. Cowards and busybodies, the lot of them, looking for any tiny infraction. They were the marms of the city, looking to swat your hand and send you on your way with a fine for the city coffers.

Hama had very, very little love for them. In due part because they had confiscated several of his more 'exotic' specimens from abroad because they were 'unsightly' and 'would terrify the public.' Pfeh. They were wrapped in blankets, no one would have seen them in the back of a cart. It was university business. Granted, the live Emperor scorpions had been a bit less than legal...

The scholar finally began his way towards the obsidian building where a rather interesting group was beginning to form around a young, dandy-ish looking man. Well-dressed, well-groomed, Naudar nevertheless seemed to have an air of superiority about him that seemed fairly unwarranted, granted the group he was about to meet. As he approached, he did just catch the snide comment Naudar gave, and his brow furrowed.

An unruly student. It made sense that Habbas would take in such a creature. He always did like challenges.

"Naudar, it would behoove you not to insult the people your teacher hires. If his judgment isn't worthwhile, what does that say about him taking on you?" Hama huffed. "Now, please, would you please lead us to our destination, and quickly? We're going to start attracting atten--"

At the end of a dock, there was a subtle splash, and Hama turned to it, seeing just the barest waves before realizing Asra was no longer with them. His eyebrows rose as he looked about, before pointing to the edge of the dock.

"Did-- Did she just--?"

 

[Kabboom]

Alim Arslan Yafir

Why do these people insist on being so fast?

Alim let out a gasp as Razin dashed from her cover. Was she crazy?! He hadn't gotten this far just to get caught by dock guards for running around! He reached to stop her before she could further her stupidity, but the girl had already gone over the crates. Alim cursed her, and cursed himself as his footfalls followed closely after hers.

His stomach spun with a concoction of emotions; hate, anger, confusion, fear, dread, stolen bread, all churning inside his gut as he ran. The sun lit up his eyes, but he paid it no heed and carried on with haste. His lungs and legs, the same ones that burned and shredded themselves thin during the mad dash from the bazaar riot earlier, were like steel now; given the adequate time to warm up, his body remembered what it was like to be a strong, virile rebel who outran city guards for fun as a kid. The tight scabbard of his sword chafed against his left thigh as he ran; he'd strapped it as tightly as he could to his leg, but there was still some leeway - that would have to be remedied later.

A guard came up near the duo, appearing from behind a flock of dawdling sailors. The bastard fattened himself on the useless task of handing out infractions and yelling at the port workers - a routine displayed by the slack curvature of his gut showing through his uniform. These dopey nitwits are put on dock detail because of their physical worthlessness - if this specimen walked down a dark hallway, Alim would've been more than welcome to show him his own innards with a knife. But enough daydreaming. The fat guard's enraged insults followed behind him as he blew past. No matter.

Alim made it to the agreed meeting point, just a few moments behind Razin. As he stepped into the cool shade, the criminal peeked out back the way he came to check for pursuers. His breathing had improved greatly since the dainty morning jog, and he even had time to check the strap on his left leg. Arms rubbing against the exterior of his clothes - the scabbard mostly hidden beneath for discretion - Alim nearly rearranged his robe to reveal the exposed blade hilt, were it not for the timely arrival of the others.

Looking back at Razin and this 'Naudar' fellow, Alim scowled at the former and did a double-take of the latter. Habbas brought a smarmy nerd along for the ride? He felt tired already. Not only will he have Razin's pinprick sarcasm to harangue him, but now the self-proclaimed smartest man in the world is also here to test his patience. He can't wait to double-cross these fools. For the sake of his sanity, he cast his eyes out to the sea, hoping the waves would drown out the ongoing bickering.

Ah, the sea, a source of calm and comfort. Its waves, bobbing to the rhythm of the sea wind. Its thousandfold sunlit reflections, ever-changing in their brightness. Its Puntlings. Wait, Puntlings? From his group, just taking a dip in the seas. What in the fuck? Answering Hama's question, Alim began moving towards the big woman in the water before the damn Headmen come. "Yes, yes she just did. I'm coming to get her out."

 

[Kuno]

The Water Calls

Naudar was fully cheeked and unblemished in a way best shaped by pampered living. The point of his distinguished nose was haughty; for all his boyish handsomeness - pretty, even, from the sweeping curl of his lashes - it was undoubtedly soured by the smugness of his charmed features. He wanted to sneer more in their affronted faces, his chin raising a bit at all their weak rebukes. What could they possibly do to him? He was right, of course. As he always was.

"Leave her in the water. One less person to drain the coffers unnecessarily," The young man responded caustically. He didn't even bother to look in the direction they all now stared. Though it did irk him that attention had been drawn from him so; he sniffed a bit, annoyed.

Leaving Asra in the water was, however, entirely impossible.

Never had the feathery plumes of the Dock Inspector's bobbed so furiously as they did when the Puntling had taken her plunge. There was an intermingling of noise from all witnesses to the event: lamentful screeching from the Inspectors, and a mix of concerned and awed shouts from the sailors.

"Well don't just stand there," one of the Inspectors screamed. The mighty ocean water's had been breached, and he nearly danced in his panic. "Someone go and get her out!"

"Aw, she'll be alright!" A rugged voice boomed over the noise. "All she's needing to do is stand up!"

At that, the docks descended into a rough chorus of guffawing and laughter, and the infuriated Dock Inspector was pushed aside as sailors and spectators alike milled towards the edge of the docks, curious to see whether the woman would resurface.

—----

Unnoticed at the outset, a familiar turbaned figure made his way through the crowd. The older Arab man could be seen as the bodies moved towards the water. Habbas pushed his way through towards the others, annoyance clear in his eyes at the unnecessary congestion.

Removing himself from his home had been like prying a limb from his own flesh. In the privacy of his company, Mila hadn't wanted to let go. And Manu, of course, had cried. Habbas had never felt so villainous in his life walking away from them.

And there had been…another delay. But a welcome one, to be sure.

"I don't quite remember the docks being so busy at this time of day," He grumbled. He threw an apologetic look behind him.

"Sorry, we're nearly there. You can see our party just ahead…Emry, was it?"

 

[Red Thunder]

​

"Abba!"

Razin waved at Habbas with no little indignation, a pout on her lips that was very unbecoming of her age. She had watched the goings-on with the detached interest of an older sibling who suffered the nonsense of her youngers. Playing? In the ocean? What immaturity. Her nose had wrinkled as she looked on, bemused. To be sure, she had just taken a weaving and spinning path through the crowd, and the dance had certainly been fun. But it was to a purpose, unlike these children splashing and gawking.

"Senility aside, what do you mean by sending us to this- well, I can't call him a man. He's too, I don't know. Pretty?" She paused, having rushed over to her father, as she considered Naudar. "Pretty insufferable, anyway. Do you know, his first inclination was to insult the lot of us? Remarkably unprofessional."

She was closer, now, to the chaos in the waves. Asra had evidently gone beneath them, enveloped by the sea, and others seemed to be scrambling to find her. But didn't the Puntlings live on an island? Wasn't their entire culture concerned in some way with the salt and the brine? What was there to be worried over? Indeed, the thought of driving in after Asra was very tempting, and she eyed the ocean mischievously.

 

[MiharuAya]

Even while the dock was busy with the bustling of sailors moving cargo and shouting out orders, the resounding splash as the ocean abruptly parted around the Puntling instantly caught Errol's attention. The tufts of feathers around his ears perked, as his head swiveled towards the origin of the sound. When he wasn't easily able to spot Asra, his eyes went wide.

Before he had a moment to think, his legs were carrying him towards the rippling waves, squeezing and shouldering his way through the crowd who had paused in shock. When he made it to the end of the dock, he frantically peered over the edge. Although he wanted to jump into the water after her, his inability to swim held him back.

In the deep blue of the ocean, it was difficult for Errol to see whether Asra was able to make it back to the surface. His eyes scanned the water, looking for any sign of her. Even though he was focused on his efforts, when the voice of a gruff man joked about Asra, the avian threw a scowl over his shoulder.

"Are you not proud men of the sea? You should be helping when a lady is in distress." His voice was uncharacteristically cold, his expression dark. It would never cease to annoy him how people could be so cruel just because of some physical differences. With a huff, he turned back towards the water, his anger melting into worry.

 

[Takumi]

Late Arrival
Collab with @Kuno​

Had he packed everything? Surely, if not he, if not Mila, if not the servants had tirelessly checked every single of his items, then it would have taken foulplay to have his belongings come up short on the journey.

"I will return soon, my love," Habbas said, Mila wrapped in his arms. Neither of them wanted to let go, but at length he parted with begrudging acceptance, her face bittersweet with its smile. He tried to commit her face and scent to memory only to realize that it had long since been etched there, unable to ever leave his mind.

Manu, on the other hand, he'd had to flee from entirely. She had gone from being enraged at his taking Razin instead of her to becoming a sobbing mess when it was time for him to go. He was still detangling her from his side when a servant came to him with a message.

"A visitor?" Habbas echoed, and the servant nodded. He frowned. Who could that possibly be?

Dressed in a cloak, invitation in hand, was one Emery Yilmaz. At first, admittedly, he was a bit skeptical of the invitation he had received, though after consulting his mother, she had encouraged him to go, but made sure he had any and everything he may have needed. The city of Isfahan was a rather pretty one, and Huvarshta being held led to the city to feel...crowded, though festive. It was rather overwhelming, and with a riot being held at some point, Emry had almost forgotten about where he needed to go, far too concerned with keeping out of trouble and the like. Once things had seemed to settle down, did he eventually find his way to Habbas' doorstep, nervous as he awaited the servant to inform the man of the house of his presence first and foremost once he arrived.

Habbas came alone to the gate. He wore nothing but his familiar faint scowl as he approached the young man, a lack of recognition evident in the way he sized him up.

"I am Habbas. Can I help you?"

Emry held out the invitation for Habbas to see, his gray eyes watching the man of the house in turn, lips pursed in a thin line for a moment before he would speak.

"I am Emry, I received this invitation, though there seemed to be some trouble in the city which delayed my coming here somewhat." He wanted to apologize, though it wasn't something he could control after all.

"Ah!"

Recognition at last flashed in the old man's eyes. He smiled. He recognized the name from the list Phineas had given him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Oh, I assume this means you're coming with? If so-"

He shouldered his bags, moving past Emry.

"I apologize for the rush, but we're headed out now. I can explain the details on the way."

"Ah, yes I am. No need to apologize, I'm glad I arrived before you departed." Emry replied as he returned the invitation to his satchel and moved to follow after Habbas. The young Aspect was glad that he at least wouldn't have been left behind or had ended up at the man's house long after he had left.

To his credit, Habbas waited for the young man to fall into step with him before taking off at a hurried pace. It was imperative that they caught up with the others.

He was a bit surprised that so many Aspects had been invited. Habbas gave him a sidelong glance, appraising him quietly.

"To put it simply, we're in search of treasure. More specifically, a treasure vault, and therein a particular artifact."

The noisy hum of the crowded streets began to reach a fever pitch the closer they moved away from the Upper District. Habbas quieted then, frowning.

You never knew who was listening.

Feeling eyes on him, Emry's gaze landed on Habbas, a curious glint in them. The older gentleman was a rather interesting man to the Turk. Upon hearing what exactly he was being hired for, the Aspect gave a thoughtful hum. Searching for a treasure was going to be a long harsh road.

"I see, and you've gathered those with skills to help in such a search." He replied with a nod. His ears twitched as the crowded streets grew louder as they approached and Habbas grew quiet. He took a sweeping look at their surroundings a moment as they left the Upper District, listening for any distinct sounds among the noise. While his hearing wasn't the most sensitive it was mostly as a precaution.

"Precisely."

Habbas looked Emry's way, frowning.

"The pay is substantial. I'm afraid there's not much time to go over details before we reach the docks, so I'll have to ask you to take a leap of faith if you're interested in coming along. Should you be dissatisfied after our conversation, we can let you off at the next port we land in."

Surely what would be a long journey would have a high pay, and no doubt many that were picked for this would weigh any pros or cons to agreeing to such a thing. For Emry, the pay could help his clan even if it was only a fraction of any treasures worth despite whatever dangers might be faced. With that in mind, Emry let Habbas' words sink in. Before replying in turn with, "I have traveled this far, the details can wait a little longer I'm sure."

Eventually finding their way to the docks with little to no conversation between them, it felt far more crowded here than it did on the walk over if not just as noisy. The quiet between them didn't bother Emry much, quickly taking note of the smell of the sea and the laughter of sailors, it was familiar to the youngest Yilmaz in a way that was almost nostalgic, having spent time as a fisherman himself. He had to focus on following after Habbas and not being separated due to the forming crowd towards the end of the docks. The last thing he wanted was to feel like a child lost in the crowd from their guardian.

"Sorry, we're nearly there. You can see our party just ahead…Emry, was it?"

"Yes, sir. There is no need to apologize, as things like this are usually out of one's control." Emry replied, the first thing he noticed was the black building the assorted group stood before, seemingly separated from whatever commotion was going on at the docks--

"Abba!"

Oh. Habbas was bringing one of his children along as well? His brow furrowed as she spoke to her father, the young Aspect was admittedly unsure if he should excuse himself and let both father and daughter speak and go to the rest of the party or remain quiet. Though given whoever she was speaking of they did not seem like someone pleasant to be around, unfortunately. While nothing new to the Aspect it didn't mean he would no doubt grow tired of it quickly. Noticing the look on her face as she faced the waters around the docks was rather telling, at least to the Goat Aspect it said quite a bit about the young woman before him outside of the way she spoke to her father.