"Although I would expect such, confirmation of a existing person in the know is always prudent and preferable to hear," Abbas replied to the retrieval agent's view as the group walked.

Lambrac's sharp security eye soon enough picked out that beneath his golden burnoose, Abbas wore a lightweight suit of chestnut leather armour studded with brass rivets.  Two thick shortsword sheaths - probably reinforced? - girded his hips, and there was the clear sign of a bow riding across his back.

The dark-haired elf moved fluidly, as was expected of his race, and seemed none to mighty of frame - again, expected.  His eyes were sharp, however, and his demeanour pleasant, if a touch distant.

"I am known here as Abbas Kareem, Lambrac.  I have served in a similar fashion to the merchant and lesser nobility castes - protection of goods and personage, primarily."

Lambrac bowed politely to each as they introduced themselves - well, nodded his head, given the chest in his arms. "Pleased to meet you, little gem." he said to Linni, using a traditional gnomish term of affection, in fluent Gnomish.

"As it does us all, fair flower of the desert." was his greeting to Fareeda, now back in Alzhedo.

"And well met to you, master elf. I'm sure I shall be honoured to work beside you." Clearly, Elven was a tongue he didn't know.

"Speaking of security, we should beware this place, few Calimport streets are safe after dark." He passed the chest under his left arm so he could loosen his rapier with his right and have it ready, though he didn't draw it. Such would be a threatening action. Too bad he did not follow his own advice this time, having too much attention to the two women, and not to the shadows.


OOC: Spot 4, Listen 5 - some security consultant I am!
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:24, Tue 21 July 2009.

"Jibril, Magistrati of Azuth."  The priest mumbled to Lambrac, while self-absorbed in his own thoughts.  "Too bad you didn't create a chastity belt for Jala Ghusoon--for her security of course."  Idly, he listened to the others exchange greetings, but he appeared more interested in the sights on the streets.

"Agreed," Abbas agreed simply, mirroring Lambrac's action on the opposite side of the highway through Calimshan's quarters.  The conversation certainly did not assist in listening for trouble, but such exchanges made the appearance of the party less remarkable, and perhaps would develop into business opportunities - in fact, one never knew if perhaps Lambrac was part of the Mistress' delivery, so conversation sounding-out might be even more important down the road... or flightway, as the bard coined.

The group travelled back the way they had come across the city as daylight began to fade. The walkways had grown busier since the outward journey with much of Calimport's nobility having emerged from their villas and estates to take in the festival - but apart from having to slow their pace, the party was not interrupted.

Down below, the streets had now taken more of a guise of a carnival rather than the earlier market fiesta. Strange plinths and figures clad in lurid costumes moved slowly through the packed thoroughfares and all kinds of acts and performances lined the sides of the roads - jugglers, fire eaters, puppet shows and belly-dancing the most common. Yet all the while the bellows and shouts of merchants and stall owners could still be heard over the general murmur of the festival. Greed, it seemed, didn't believe in respite.

Continuing on, the party slowly passed back out of the Khanduq ward, following the wider byway between the Axash and Otahl sabbans of the Emerald ward. They had almost reached the Marekh sabban when they came to a line of twelve amlakkar guards, arranged to block the byway. Their chain mail gleamed a deep blue in the last embers of the dying sun and the nose guards of their studded round-helms almost reached their lips. They carried short hook-pikes in one hand and slim red kite shields in the other - on which a symbol of a glowing emerald set in gold revealed them as the Sultan Nasim el Pesarkhal's own guard.

Their apparent commander stepped forward to meet the group, his weathered Calishite face and grim expression evidence of a long service to the Sultan. He spoke up in throaty Alzhedo, his chest puffing out as if to emphasise his words."This byway is closed by the will of Sultan Nasim. You will descend immediately to the street."

He looked over the group for a moment, arching his brow at the sight of Linni and Abbas, then positively scowling at the scantily clad sight of Fareeda. He turned to Jibril, assessing him as the apparent leader of the group. "Magistrati you should know better than to bring your slaves up onto the byway. Especially that Jhasina," he gestured rudely at Fareeda. "Just because the temple is on your side, does not mean you can take liberties."

He sneered, looking back at the now-empty byway stretching off into the gloom. "Regardless, the Sultan will be using this section of the wall shortly and I am afraid you too must descend. I assume your slaves are capable of seeing you safely to the temple?" He gestured at the stone staircase nearby that dropped sharply down to the street and waited for them to make off.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:40, Tue 21 July 2009.

Jibril laughed heartily at the guard's comments.  "Slaves? Oh you do not know me good man. I certainly wouldn't buy this circus menagerie for my slaves.  I have much better taste than that. These are all free men and women."  He peeked over the guard's shoulders, while clutching his holy symbol.  "Sultan Nasim, you say? I hear he's a fine and prosperous man.  Does he have any need of the services of Azuth perhaps?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:17, Wed 22 July 2009.

Lambrac gaze about in wonderment at the festival, enjoying the entertainment on display, and passing a eye over the wares for sale, hoping to find a good enough vase for the new trap in the north wing. But he had enough to carry at the moment.

Then he stopped short at the appearance of the guards, though he was not alarmed. Not every confrontation with armed people had to end in battle. He nodded his head in greeting. "And I am a free citizen of Lantan." he added, emphasising both the 'free' and the 'Lantan', whose cannon-bedecked ships were the fear of the Sword Coast and the Shining Sea.

"Or maybe the sultan requires a security consultant, specialising in locks and traps?" he suggested, hopeful of a more prestigious employment.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:58, Thu 23 July 2009.

The guard seemed to ease up a bit as Jibril began reasoning with him. The priest's polite tone and courteous manner were evidently appreciated. "The Sultan has his own methods of contacting Azuth," The man smiled. "He does after all belong to the Guild Arcane."

"I take it you are heading to the Marekh Sabban?" He gestured down at the street with his hook-pike, "Take the street west past the Sultan's Cape tavern and you will soon reach the Marekh gate, that way is a quiet neighbourhood and you will get no trouble." He smiled again and gestured a farewell.

Lambrac then began to speak to the guard, and the man cut him off, his demeanour quickly switching back to one of hostility. "You dare speak to me garab?¹ I do not care where you are from, just get off this byway before I throw you off. I will not tell you again." He glared at the rogue for a few moments before pushing past him to speak to the next group of people to arrive at the blockade.

1: Garab - An offensive Calishite term for a foreigner or outsider.

"Unless there is reason to doubt his word, perhaps our travel back that path would be wisest."  Not wishing to cause further dispute, and seeking to open some room between the party and the group following behind, Abbas nodded to Lambrac and started the escort down to the streets.

The increased jeopardy was not lost on the elf, however, and he freed both blades, laying them flat upon his arms and using a finger to snug in his burnoose to prevent too loose a movement revealing his armed status.  On the paths above, courtesy required arms be kept sheathed; the rule of the streets required one be ready to defend one's self... especially when carrying a chest... especially when trouble was likely, if not a given.

Lambrac bowed his head with an obsequious smile, and shuffled to the back of the party, away from the sharp and pointy pikes. By Gond, these people could be uncivilised barbarians, for all their pretensions otherwise.

"Yes, whatever gets us fastest and safest back to the good professor's residence." he replied softly to Abbas.

Now gnomes, they were civilised.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:00, Wed 22 July 2009.

Fareeda hid behind Abbas as the guard confronted them, wincing as he gestured her way. She did not need to be asked twice to descend to street-level and hurriedly made her way down the steps as soon as the guard captain ordered.

Linni considered for a moment what bravado this racist, irate guardsman would show when set alight, but a glance at the eleven other pikes pointing at the darkening sky behind him made her think twice. Glaring at the man, she grudgingly followed Fareeda and began to descend.

Jibril grimaced as he glanced at the nasty street below.  Just touching the street would disgust him, and he had no slave with a rug to save him the disgrace.  But there would be no arguing with the guard, and he cursed Jala Ghusoon for not selling him that slave now.  He looked over at Abbas and wondered if the elf could support his weight to allow him to ride piggy back. Not likely.  With a final loud sigh, he decided he would need to purchase a new pair of slippers after this trip.

Descending the stairway, the group carried on in the direction the guard had advised them to go. The sun was fast setting over the city now and long shadows criss-crossed their path.

They passed along a quiet backstreet, mostly empty - entirely empty in fact, of any other people. The faded wooden sign of the Sultan's Cape marked the tavern twenty feet down the street on the right, its dilapidated exterior an unusual sight in the wealthy streets of the Emerald ward. It seemed open by the light under the door, yet all the window shutters were fastened and the door shut fast.

Something was not right.

A glance up at the byway they had just come from revealed that the blockade had dispersed. People were moving along uninterrupted and the amlakkar guards had long since disappeared. It appeared they were the only people made to descend...
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:14, Wed 22 July 2009.

Jibril appeared oblivious to the empty street, other than that he was relieved that he was not been brushed up against by the unwashed masses.  His attention appeared to be on his feet--frowning at every step he has to take on this disgraceful pathway.

"A moment - I have some grit inside my boot," Abbas offered public, stopping to twist his soft footwear to and fro as tho attempting to work a small piece of stone to one side to walk more comfortably.

"No street is this quiet in Calimshan, and never during a festival period.  And yonder tavern closed and shuttered in dusk at festival time, when someone's inside and able to draw breath?  he offered in quiet, under his breath speech to the clustered group.  "We were the only group sent below - if it had been simply dislike of outlander members of our escort collective, they would have needed no subterfuge of Sultan's order to deny us the skylane and keep the other traffic moving.

"Whether the guard was working with some group seeking us ill or sent us this way to cause difficulty, I cannot say, but this street feels wrong. Let us backtrack and take a more public path - this road reads too much of 'foolish foreigners walking into trouble'.  Perhaps one of the ladies would be so good as to 'realize' something was forgotten or needs to be first picked up at a merchant booth, and necessitating our travel another way?"

He looked about, not liking where this was going. It seemed they'd been set up. Not good, not good at all. The Sultan's own guard? Perhaps they should be honoured to receive such high attention?

He wasn't a lady, but he announced anyway "Perhaps we could swing by the bazaar instead? I really ought to find a gift for my Mistress on my return, and could do with a new wire-cutter myself." He scanned the shadows, on the alert now for lurking thugs.


OOC: Bluff 22, Spot 14, Listen 8

Jibril is roused out of his obliviousness. "I see. Perhaps this is a good time to protect myself from a stray arrow." He waved his arms in a dramatic fashion, as he chanted a prayer.

_{OOC: Cast Mage Armor}

"Certainly," Abbas agreed, having "removed" the problem in his boot.  "We're ahead of time.  We can cut back this way after you purchase your necessaries." He softly stepped his boot against the ground a couple times as though to confirm the problem pebble was gone, and gestured for the others to head back.

Fareeda listened to Abbas and nodded, fear in her eyes. She was a dancer, not a soldier and the idea of coming under attack was enough to fill her with dread.

"Yes, let's go through the bazaars instead. I have been needing to purchase some more equipment for the journey ahead."

She coughed awkwardly and turned around to walk back in the direction they had came - yet something caught her eye and she stopped suddenly, frozen in fear...

As Fareeda turned around to head back down the street, something dark emerged from an alleyway to her left, pacing slowly out into the street to block her path. Another followed, then another - three figures who stood out like holes in the air, their black silk shozukus, tabi boots and face scarves revealing only their eyes to the fading sun. The rustle of leather could be heard under their black uniforms and a variety of curving scabbards hung from their waists. Their eyes looked Fareeda up and down, as if deciding what they would do with her gorgeously curved figure.

In the other direction, another pair of black-clad assassins stepped into view, along with another man at their head. This one was dressed quite differently, in an exquisite yellow thobe and white turban. The amount of material needed to make such clothes must alone have cost a fortune, for his girth was huge and each step he took seemed a laborious effort. A grey beard hung from his pudgy face and jewels of all shapes and sizes gleamed from the rings on his fat fingers. A large sapphire hung like an amulet from the gold chain around his neck.

This man, whoever he was, seemed quiet important, a Massatyr or Ruais perhaps. A more pressing concern, however, was that he had the group trapped, with both directions of the street cut off...
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:52, Thu 23 July 2009.

"Greetings musadhyars! A fine evening to greet our wonderful city's journey into the summer months, would you not agree?" The man made the effort to bow, but the size of his waist prevented anything more than a slight nodding of the head. "I was beginning to worry that you would stick to the byways forever and leave me with no chance to make a proper introduction!" He laughed as elequently as was possible given his morbidly obese stature. "Fortunately the amlakkar are not known for their vigilance. Do you really think Sultan Nasim would bother with the hassle of walking on a night such as this? He is a wizard you know."

He smiled and held his arms out wide. "Anyway, my name is Ubdall Kareed and I come to you this evening with a..." He gestured his hands around in the air as if seeking the right word, "Proposition."

"My employer has recently become aware of the good Professor, Kraust Hingleswip, and over the past few months has taken a great interest in his work." His light brown eyes scanned the group with a hint of arrogance and mock courtesy. "Especially that relating to the jungles of Chult."

"We know something of what he seeks in those jungle labyrinths - more so than what he has told you I expect. I must say I feel some admiration, if not a little surprise, that you have all thrown yourselves into his service without considering the dangers he will be leading you, like sheep, into the heart of." He smiled, revealing a pair of gold teeth in his upper jaw. "Brave, but naive."

He gestured to the chest that Lambrac held high on his shoulder. "The contents of that chest are quite beyond any of you. The old gnome is a fool for not fetching it himself." He stood up tall and crossed his arms, his expression of mock courtesy replaced with a more serious visage. "This is what will happen. You will give me that chest, now, and leave. You will not return to the Professor's residence and you will not journey with him to Chult. Do this and you will live. Do not..." He smiled broadly and waited for their answer.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:49, Thu 14 July 2011.

Jibril crossed his arms and faced the obese, bejeweled man undaunted.  "What is it that you want, sir? Do you seek to block a Magistrati of Azuth?"

Lambrac took a step forward and made a short and respectful bow, at least as far as the chest would allow him. He made a friendly smile. "Well met and good evening this Greengrass. I am Lambrac SeKilderic, a free citizen of Lantan." he introduced, figuring it was worth a second shot. "I've been hired to deliver this chest and its contents to Professor Hingleswip. If you wish to purchase it, you'll have to negotiate with him. Honour demands that I see it safely to the professor first - and I will not bow to street muggers, no matter how uncommon." He ended with a steel edge in his voice, one he did not feel inside.

OOC: Diplomacy 22
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:30, Thu 23 July 2009.

Jibril bristled at the threat, while ignoring the babbling Lambrac next to him.  "How dare you! I won't be spoken to in that manner by someone who is over-accessorized in such gaudy jewelry." Although Jibril did wonder if one of those rings would be enough to fetch him Jala Ghusoon's slave. "If you want this chest, come waddle over here and get it yourself!"

He whispered to Lambrac. "Now let's see if you're truly worth that 100 platinums."