The Eleventh Earth

[aurorastorm]

The Eleventh Earth

((OOC thread can be found over yonder.))

A deep orange set across the surface of Constantinople's streets as the Sun set in the west, still hanging over the Iberian Peninsula and the Danish-controlled Isles on the far end of Europe. The people of Constantinople had bustled through the city throughout the entirety of the day going about their business and it was only now as the sun began to set that the streets started to clear as families returned to their homes and to their meals. Few stores remain open, as the owners too go home. However, on the edges of the city there are many stores which still find business in these twilight hours, serving travelers as they pass through the grand capitol of Eastern Rome.

A coffee house on the edge of Constantinople doubled as an inn in these days, with stables for travelers' horses available to those who could pay. The porch of the coffee-house looked out across the golden horn and across the strait into the distance. A man sat outside on the steps leading p toward the building, nursing a cup in his hand. It was Ramadan, and he was forbidden to take food or drink during the day, though he sometimes broke this rule while in the city. After all, when one made a living as a nomad, they did not shirk the opportunity of food being so readily available; Allah, all-compassionate and knowing, would understand, he was sure. The man was named Abid and he had stopped at this inn alongside his traveling companions. They were in Constantinople on business, and after a long day of purchasing supplies, Abid waited outside where he was told their client would send further instructions on the nature of their job. He looked into the distance and saw the moon hanging over the distant lands; East toward the desert, and East towards Baghdad, the city of dreams he one day hoped to return to.

Abid sighed, a long sigh letting out the tension of riding and traveling, a sigh given reluctantly by one who has waited until rest is assured before relaxing. He sipped his coffee slowly and sat on the porch. He preferred the porch to the stuffy cushions within the house, and would have liked the place much more if they had put tables outside, as he had seen done once before in another land; however, Abid was not one to complain, and so contented himself with the wood for a seat.

[Khanman]

A loud bang jumped into the evening as a large man closed the door of the stables forcefully behind him. He tossed a mostly-empty feedbag aside, dusted off his thick hands, and moved to the inn. This man, known as Gaspar, had been a traveling companion of Abid's for some time now, though that wouldn't have been apparent to the casual observer. Walking right past the seated man, Gaspar barely gave him a sniff and a glance. He opened the door, moved inside, and closed it with another loud bang.

Inside the inn, Gaspar quickly located the proprietor. He got his attention, pausing intermittently as he spoke in fractured Arabic. "I would drink now. Make it strong, hot." He pantomimed a cup in one hand, expounding on its size. The listener pieced together what was being ordered and moved to a back room. While he waited, Gaspar slumped back into pile of cushions, throwing his legs up and kicking his boots off. He did not bother to check if this bothered anyone.

[aurorastorm]

"A good evening to you, too." Abid muttered to himself as Gaspar passed rudely. He blew on his coffee slightly, wishing it were not as hot, as the heat of the Roman night warmed him without the coffee's aid.

----\

Inside, Gaspar found himself surrounded by a strange retinue of people. A man sat by a window partaking in a glass of milk and eyeing Gaspar, a grin on his face as he spoke with his companion, another man who drank nothing. The drinking man looked Grecian, with dark curly hair and olive skin, and the other man looked as though he were some Westerner, with a balding head with thin blond hair. The two men beckoned Gaspar over to their side.

[TheImbecile]

Florus Copoli swayed back and forth, his footwork leading him from one side of the Constantinople street to the other. With each breath, he could taste the bitterness of wine and feel its warmth in his disgruntled stomach. Many of the city-goers had gone back to their homes, but the few that walked the street looked on at Florus in disgust. His tanned cheeks showed a hint of flushed red, and sweat glistened over his forehead and dampened the chest of his tunic. His lips were curved into a foolish, satisfied half-smile. He hadn't accomplished anything out of the ordinary that night, but he felt secure in Constantinople.

Florus wound about the streets for a bit longer before catching the sight of his fellow nomad, Abid, sitting quietly on the porch of a humble coffee-house. He took a turn, and approached his horse, Jari, who was standing plainly in his section of the stable. Florus stroked Jari's face for a moment, and kicked lightly at a saddle-bag on the floor, ensuring that his supplies were still inside. He then left the stable, closing Jari's gate tightly, and made his way to the porch. After sitting cross-legged, he nodded his head forward at his friend, still grinning.

[aurorastorm]

"You like Constantinople?" Abid managed to ask in Greek. Florus had been a friend, though their friendship had been one formed mainly while traveling, as it necessitated less verbal communication between the two. Abid knew only a slight bit of other languages and mainly communicated either through Moshir, the scholar who traveled in their group, or through his actions when he spoke with Florus or Gaspar.

[Khanman]

Gaspar turned slowly to look at the two men. His brow twitched. "You see I just sat down. My feet sleep ... eh, rest. I can listen to your words if you spoke from there." He shifted, putting his legs down to turn and look at them. They seemed European, so he tried switching languages. "Do you speak Spanish?"

[aurorastorm]

The two men beckoned toward another friend who arrived, the man was also a European. "A Spaniard, eh? Good to see another one," the man spoke in fluent Spanish "there aren't many of us out here. Let me be blunt, there's a meeting going on in town tonight for the Christians from the west of Rome. You're welcome to come and meet with us, brother. It might prove helpful to you while you travel in these lands to attend." The man spoke confidently, as he knew no one else would be able to understand him in this place.

[Khanman]

"Hm." Gaspar stroked his beard in thought. The presence of another Spaniard put him at ease, drew him in. "What kind of help do you mean? If you're making arrangements for a trip to the northwest, I must decline. I am less than welcome in our homeland, at least until we take it back from the Moors. But if you were planning something else..." Gaspar trailed off, offering the man a chance to respond.

[Gornacopia]

Moshir sat on a bench by one of the porch rails, where Enam the falcon was perched. He rested one hand on the hilt of his dagger while stroking his pet with the other. He only looked up briefly when he heard someone speaking Greek, but lost interest when he saw it was merely Abid talking with Florus. His attention now shifted to the streets, where he watched what few people still wandered about. "I hope we have enough water for our next journey," he said to himself in Persian.

[aurorastorm]

"Hey scholar, come sit over here!" Abid called out to Moshir, thinking it would make for much easier communication to have the man nearby. "It'll be helpful for our client to find us if we're all together. I'm sure he can figure us out without Orphan or the Fatmid." He had been keeping his eyes peeled just in case there was a sign of the client, who had been slated to arrive some time in the early night, though he did not specify when.

--------

"No no no. Unfortunately I find myself in much the same situation as you. This is an opportunity for Christians who are traveling near or among the heathens. You'll find it most useful, I'm sure. The meeting is in the old carpenter warehouse just north of here, and we'll be meeting in one hour. Look for the cross and you'll know the way." The man nodded contentedly as he drank a small glass of wine.