Harun Fakim Al-Kashir
DATE: Year 7,432 of the 3rd Era. 3rd Month, 14th Day
LOCATION: Castle Vraweth
INTERACTING WITH: Morgan@Lyla, Nimue@Crusader Lord
Harun blinked, surprised at how well everything had gone. He had entered the throne room of the castle, forgetting his surroundings as he ran, and instead of being attacked was now receiving traveling supplies from the same woman he had robbed. Not bad for his debut back onto the thievery scene. Not even five threats on his life, at that!
An innocent smile crossed his face once more as he left his bow, rising to stand above Odessa. He was not an incredibly tall man normally, but part of him couldn’t resist. “Xil, will you go on assisting?”
“Yes, though I’m loathe to. We still need to have our talk.”
“All in good time, my man. For now,” He turned to Odessa, tapping the ruby on his dagger’s pommel, cueing the blade to begin translating. “Madame, I apologize for the abrupt nature of my arrival, but I thought it the most expedient way to find an audience with Her Majesty. More importantly, however, I came to retrieve Xil’Gurash. He is an old friend, and I do not dare to venture in the name of Vis without him at m-”
The traveler continued as his blade began to speak, gesticulating and clearly trying to leave a good impression. Xil’Gurash ignored this. “My Lady, I am so sorry. Harun is a rogue and a bastard, but he once saved my life. I owe him a debt for so long as he lives, as he rescued me from the cold waters of the Western Sea. Were it not for him, I would’ve rusted to dust long ago. I just…” Hesitation tinged the edges of the dagger’s voice, Harun still gesturing with one hand and speaking. “I must go. You were a more than worthy wielder, but a debt is a debt. And I promise you, at his core he is good. I just need to bring it out, you see.”
The blade’s voice matched tone with the thief’s, but his words were full of shame. “Harun was my greatest failing. I gave sermons, I told parables, and in the end the only thing that forced his hand was the death of his father. I have seen him as a force for good in the world. He unified an empire, and the people loved him. They truly did, and he was good to them. He slew a tyrant, but for a personal grudge. Maybe this time, I can truly change him. I beg of you, pray for me. We all march in the name of Vis, but I fear my task may be as difficult as the battles ahead.” At this point, the amber-eyed man waited for his knife to finish, arms crossed in front of him, winning smile still flashing. The dagger’s tone notably changed. If the blade could roll its eyes, it would have. “Also, he says he is impressed that you’ve been the only one to threaten him and wait for a response. He appreciates it. In the name of supplies, he would like a warm scarf, a bandolier of throwing knives, and a sign of favor from the queen, as well as food for travel. There was more in there, but it was largely fluff and flattery. He would also like to speak with the Ladies Le Fey and Pendragon before they depart.”
There was a long pause as the knight commander stared down the man who had taken her companion, expressionless. “There will be no sign of favor, for Her Majesty does not favor the ill-mannered. A scarf and food are both doable, but tell your friend to watch himself. The daggers may or may not happen. Speaking to the others will be acceptable, so long as they find it so. He will have supplies. Will that be all?”
“Will that be all?”
“Quite. Ooo, actually, could I get a horse as well? I could fly, but I would go so far ahead of those two that it would completely ruin the point of tra-”
“He would like a horse, if you can spare one. His arms get tired.”
Odessa nodded, maintaining her glare. “It will be done. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to the preparations.” She turned to walk away, pulling an empty, fur-lined scabbard from her belt and handing it to the thief. It was simple, but hand-crafted and obviously well cared for. She looked elsewhere as she spoke, and her voice dropped for the first time since Harun had seen her. “Watch out for yourself, my friend. I know you wish to spread the light, but guard your heart. ...I hope to see you again.”
With that, the knight commander turned to her men, face hardening once more as she went back to barking orders to the guards around the room. If one were watching Harun, they would have seen the slightest break in his mask as she walked, a shadow of doubt and guilt creeping across his visage before he shook his head, gathering himself up once more. Xil’Gurash was silent, but the thief knew that the dagger could feel his emotions. That was always the hardest part of traveling with his damn conscience.
He shrugged off those feelings, instead focusing on a small bead of anger in his breast. Walking across the throne room, he pulled Xil’Gurash from his belt, flicking the blade into the air and catching him in the scabbard he had been given. A few guards kept their eyes on him, but he paid them no heed. Shortly, he came up to the two heroes of old, the same confident smile on his face. “Xil, feel free to take a break. Madames Le Fey and Pendragon appears to be quite fluent in Kashiyem themselves, all the more impressive considering they were both so very dead during the time of my empire.” He placed undue stress on the possessive, emphasizing a tension that his face did not speak of. Apprehension echoed through the empathic link in Harun’s mind, but he paid it no heed. Bowing deeply once more, he rose up to his full height, meeting the eyes of the fey-touched. “Greetings, Ladies. I would go through introductions, but I have already spoken mine and I am all too aware of who you are. Why, I’ve told both of your legends many times in my own life for coin and company. Indeed, two fine examples of chivalry you are if there ever were.”
“Regardless, I’m afraid there was a misunderstanding, and I would like to correct things early if we are to travel together to Bervenia. I’ve always found it best to work out issues early on in any relationship, business or pleasure.”
The rogue’s expression remained the same as his head turned, focusing on the red-haired woman. One hand rested on the pommel of his blade, relaxed and easy. It was not a hostile action, but certain measures were universal. His lazy smile stayed exactly the same but his voice grew ever so slightly harsh, continuing to address the mage even as his eyes stared into the warrior of old. “You see, Madame Pendragon, the dagger has a name. Were she an uneducated stranger, I would forgive the slight, but as the Queen of Knights, I was shocked at the lack of respect your companion had when addressing another soul. After all, she knows something of him or she would not have mentioned him to me. He is Xil’Gurash, not a lifeless chunk of steel like she wears on her hip, and I would appreciate it were your noble friend courteous enough to address him as such. Additionally, from one leader of men to another, at times it pays to allow others to speak before you walk away from them. Food for thought. Aside from that, Felspeaker, I’m sure we’ll get along famously. My thanks for your time, I’m sure it’s quite valuable.”
With his last words, the thief bowed one final time before turning away, flipping his dark hood over his head as he went. Xil’Gurash spluttered in outrage, alternating between apologies to the two ladies and lambasting Harun as they walked, but the rogue ignored it. The guards followed him attentively, befitting the the man who had robbed their leader from the sixth floor, but it wasn’t as though they spoke ancient Kashiyem themselves to perceive the slight unless the two heroes told them. Frankly, he thought their pride would stop them from that.
As he exited the hall and began to make his way outside, the southerner resisted the temptation to turn all the paintings crooked as he did, making a mental note to contract a spirit for the job before they left.
After a time, Xil’Gurash quieted down, ending with one last furious statement. “We are having a very, very serious talk about borders tonight.”
“I would expect no less.”
