A Table for Hawks, a Mesa for the Kwee

[Ibn Khaldun 7729]

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

 

He laid against the surface of the mesa, having scaled it by midday, and shaded his eyes with a sun-baked hand. Dispensing with the folly of staring too long at slithering mirages, Maȟpíya looked to two great objects whose details he could not discern because of their distance. To the northwest, he saw a great cube of stone grey; he threw back his gaze to the southeast towards a gaping maw of a sandstone arch whose throat appeared lush and green. Before making any decision on which way to embark, he pitched his tipi tent and made quick work of khargush [rabbit] he trapped before his ascent onto the mesa.

 

Maȟpíya ran his fingers to smooth the crinkles out of a letter that he withdrew from one of his leather satchels. He flipped it on its unwritten side against the width of his thigh as he sat. He uncorked an inkpot and worked the tip of a quill while watching the vibrant sunset from his vantage point atop the mesa.

 

"Yr-Solheim Kujalleq [ @Carson ], Tanyan yahipi! Askunu bayna hil'Hurkaan wa Mamlakaan hil'Hyspiya. Kaab saa'tlee'sfiru hila ahna?" [¹]

 

The letter, by wing, road, or seafaring vessel, made its way to its recipient.

 

Spoiler

1. Welcome! I reside between the Orcs and the Kingdom of the Hyspians. When will you travel to me?

 

Had a wonderful time in my first few gameplays returning to the server, mainly running into Hyspians & Qalasheen (Thanks @Myst27, @Nymstra, @Chrisoulis777, @Wavey). There will be more narrative posts to come!

 

[Carson 936]

Yr-Solheim read the missive from a cozy igloo in the far north, an eager grin spreading across her lips. “I will come soon,” she responded, her writing messy yet still legible.

[Ibn Khaldun 7729]

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

 

That cube of grey which Maȟpíya spotted from his encamped mesa filled in with detail; red tile roofs and quarried stone layers atop layers swallowed the beating sun and every ray that shared its heat against his forehead. He bade his steed to wander around the walls until he reached a gate - closed and unyielding. He tilted and craned his head like a cat looking around its nuisance of an obstacle, his eyes locked with one of the residents on the opposite side of the closed passageway.

 

"Hinhanni! Why is it that these gates are closed?"

 

"To stop strangers from getting in without due process!" A retort whose content required Maȟpíya's challenge.

 

"How can the gates tell stranger and trader apart? With what mouth can it question the stranger whether their intent is good or ill for the walled-folk inside?"

 

 

That same resident who Maȟpíya locked eyes with went to fetch for the gate's opening and soon it opened. Maȟpíya crossed the threshold and entered La Ciudad de la Dorada. He followed the resident, inquiring after the leader of her people. Within the end of the morning hour which he arrived to the Hyspian capital, he had an audience with Cesar II.

 

"Hinhanni Malik hil'Hyspiya, my name is Maȟpíya Kwee'Hayastaani and I come from my peoples' modest camp atop one of the many mesas like great tables secured throughout the desert east of your great shihi [city]. We've formed the intention to meet neighbors to the expansive sands we wandered, looking to enter the employ of any who would have us that we may build good relations. Know though that we have no desire nor intent to be fenced in by walls, our way of life enjoys the vastness of the endless desert and the plains and the tundras alike."

 

King Cesar II blinked a few times, taken by the forthrightness of his guest. Maȟpíya rubbed his shoulder, taking a deep breath as he blinked away the walls around him seemingly closing in on him. Cesar II smiled patiently, replying thusly:

 

"Oh? Thankfully you have come here. Hyspia is home to many Farfolk, we have pride in our companionship with our brethren. You have certainly left a good impression on me amigo, we would love to welcome you and your people as we continue to grow. I warn you respectfully though, the Orcs despise those who tread upon these lands."

 

"We fear none nor bear unjustified distrust, we mean to meet with the Hurkaan [Orcs] in order that we may build good relations with them also. I do thank you for welcoming me and appreciate your willingness to listen to me," Maȟpíya rested an open palm against his leather-covered chest.

[Ibn Khaldun 7729]

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

 

Passing through the sandstone maw, he found vines and fronds beneath the hooves of his horse rather than cacti needles and juniper bark. The canyon pass cradled a lush jungle, protecting it from the sands that churned on the other side. Maȟpíya marveled at the green where it went and the machines that stood unattended, one shaped like a goblin but whose eyes glinted like well-oiled gears. He led his horse onward, spying a great gate whose closed portcullis bars and crenelations formed great barbs that conveyed reptilian inspiration. Hung along the walls leading to the gated passageway were not beheaded warnings on spikes, but rather colorful ritual masks of varying sizes that stared lidless and whose carved facial impressions conveyed might, happiness, and some even bantered with you when you looked upon them.

 

Three Orcs loitered the gateway, one banging meaninglessly upon the wrought iron bars. They found Maȟpíya just as he noticed them and took an interest. Of the three, one boldly approached him atop his horse and began to stroke the stallion's mane.

 

"Long ago. . . somevhere bevore my mind vhas stricken, mi clan bred dese," the bold Orc claimed.

 

"Hinhanni good Hurk, I'd assume what your clan bred were mighty to befit the stature of your kind and carry you. My tribe, we breed for speed so we can make haste in the desert which we call home. My name is Maȟpíya," Maȟpíya replied, resting serenely as the Orc playfully rubbed his horse's nose.

 

 

"I vould gib lat mi name, ib I had one,"

 

"If you've no given name, what are you most skilled at? I can give you a name based on that!"

 

"Dey call me Spiritkin, dis vhas da title besto'd upon me long ago. Oder den dat, mi do nub know."

 

"Aatma is the word for spirit in my tribe's tongue, I can call you Aatmahurk - Spirit Orc!"

 

Aatmahurk withdrew, his eyes widening as he muttered the name under his breath. While Aatmahurk committed the new name to memory to himself, one of the other Orcs peeled away from the still-closed gate and greeted Maȟpíya.

 

"Ug! Latz may hab da wait awhile, none to open dey gate."

 

"That is no problem, do you happen to know the Hurkaan'Rex?"

 

The orc nodded.

 

"Can I ask a favor then, I will give a gift in return," Maȟpíya slipped a bottle of spiced mead from his saddlebag, holding it out, "If you meet the Rex of the Hurkaan soon, can you let him know that Maȟpíya of the Kwee'Hayastaani wishes to meet him that I might try and build good relations between my few and your mighty people?"

 

The Orc accepted the bottle, peering into the glassy vessel with an easy uncorking. The two had a deal. With that, Maȟpíya led his horse to double back to the trail he took to enter the land of the Hurkaan.

 

Spoiler

Cheers for the RP yesterday! @charliebear_07 @Wasteland_Shaman

 

[Ibn Khaldun 7729]

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

 

Adhbabarii [¹], Aatmahurk [²]. These names befitted the few Orcs Maȟpíya befriended on his previous visits to Orcgrimmor. The one for the Orc who lauded his skill in taming wild beasts, the other for the Orc whose shamanic demeanor was spirited. The two helped him navigate the great oasis and the Orkish villages that sprang from the sands like junipers whose roads, like branches, darted erratically from the main root which was their capitol.

 

This visit to Orcgrimmor achieved for Maȟpíya his singular goal: to meet the mighty Hurkaan'Rex [³]. Grommash, which he laconically introduced himself as he bade Maȟpíya to speak plain Common, looked every bit of what Maȟpíya could expect from a martial race. Grommash's face looked as mottled and as firm as hardened leather; his battle scars seemed like mere scratches of the fingernails on unyielding shale. What hair he had remained unkempt and his tusks looked like sun baked bone.

 

"My name is Maȟpíya of the Kwee'Hayastaani, we have newly just arrived here to Aevos, having landed upon the shores of the expansive sands," Maȟpíya began, "Our tribe is yet young, a mere handful and no mighty host to arrogantly pretend ourselves your equal. I am sent to build good relations with the Orkish. We currently camp atop one of the many mesas in the deep desert."

 

"It seems in days of Grommash, many seek life in the hardlands of sand and sunfire," Grommash mused with a frown.

 

"Odd it may be, but fortunate are we that we've grown accustomed to being unfenced by stone wall or tall mountain," Maȟpíya wiped three fingers across his red-toned forehead.

 

"Grommash has offered much thought to newcomers who seek water from the oasis of the Urukhim. Earlier representatives of the Qalasheen of Hyspia came to speak to Grommash about sharing meat and drink. Methinks for those who wish to share the sand and the oasis, then they must share meat and drink with the Urukhim as sign of respect."

 

Maȟpíya blinked away his surprise quickly. He and the Hurkaan'Rex confirmed what Grommash meant; the Orcs wanted nothing but a feast, not to employ or enslave the Kwee' nor tribute. The Hyspians would have me believe that Grommash was to demand hefty tribute, yet his own tongue does not incline to such a thing. Maȟpíya's face softened with profuse thanks pouring from his mouth.

 

 

"Consider the prospect of a feast confirmed. I will let my few know and will arrange for us to bring plentiful food from our hunters. I do want to ask, is there any disagreement from the Orks of us camping atop one of the mesas? We've only pitched one tent and a few totems since arriving, not wanting to raise more until we make peace with the Orks."

 

Grommash waved away the question, affirming that the Kwee' are fine to camp there. The Hurkaan'Rex added, "Grommash will instruct his warriors that the mesa tribe is not to be raided and is to be allowed to move and hunt freely in the sands."

 

"I will let my tribe know that the Orcs are ever-welcome under our tents and under the gaze of our totems. We will be honored to klomp alongside the Orcs if bandit or brigand dares to try their steel against them," Maȟpíya swore.

 

Spoiler

1. Wild Bison

2. Spirit Ork

3. Orks-King

Thanks for the great RP @Narthok  @RLNGO @Altered@creamynoteblock

 

[Ibn Khaldun 7729]

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

 

The shadows cast upon the lengths of tipi hides moved as their masters did; the Kwee' & their guests encircled a great mass of charring logs collapsing into itself under the lashings of flame as they conversed. Yr-Solheim and Moiseyu sat next to each other; Maȟpíya reclined with a pipe, the pipe being filled with cactus green by a Wonk that teetered on its soles further from the fire than the others. Zahra al-Hamra, a Qalasheen resident with the Kwee, sat separately with a man whose pale complexion contrasted his onyx-black hair.

 

 

"Maȟpíya, Hinhanni, Tadeusz of the Kos has come to us with a request," Zahra stated, introducing the stranger as she stood. Tadeusz followed suit.

 

"Slava and dziekuju forr your hospitality. Ja come with the results of our Narada, our folk-gathering, and we have decided to migrate south from Minitz and hoped your people and ours might co-exist for a time. The Kos clan are the last remnant of Highlander Vistulia of the old continent. Due to the war, though it may come to a close, we feel safer gathering our folk away from the mainland where the great kingdoms and plague have both waged their wars," Tadeusz described.

 

"Well met Tadeusz of the Kos. I am no great-chief by any stretch of the imagination, but I do imagine we can certainly welcome your clan with open arms and share the mesas together. All we would want is that, just as we will defend you from hostility, aid in our defense just so. Other than that, regarding your faith, your language, your rule over your kith & kin; the Kwee'Hayastaani want nothing to do with governing others," Maȟpíya affirmed.

 

Tadeusz clasped his hands together and sat back down with Zahra. The Kwee' gathered around the fire nodded in affirmation to Maȟpíya's declaration. Zahra opened a glass jar of Orkish Guzzoline and passed it around. By the time it had reached Maȟpíya, those who drank before him laid in a stupor or looked unchanged. He dared himself to take a swill. Much like an owl, he turned his head away from the gathering and spat out what he tried to ingest. From beneath his tunic, a half-whittled thick branch of desert juniper tumbled out. The katchsina, modeled after a chimeric mix between an eagle and a totemic man, caught Yr-Solheim's eye.

 

"You did not tell us you looked to carve katchsina [¹]. Are you learned in the ways of jaadoo [²]?" Yr-Solheim asked.

 

With a hacking cough forcing the last of the Orkish liquor from his mouth, Maȟpíya barely managed a shake of the head.

 

"Come then Maȟpíya, I shall teach you!"

 

Spoiler

1. Cultural artifacts of the Kwee, Living Dolls often chimeric in design.

2. Housemage Magick

 

Roleplay so far has been spontaneous, interesting, and varied! I took creative liberties for this particular narrative post, mixing multiple in-game RP encounters into one. Cheers to @MCVDK @Diogen @Carson @DarthPurgillus @Grzeq@Matzavas @Rebellionlife@Gimble & others!

 

[Ibn Khaldun 7729]

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

Spoiler

 

 

The small procession of Kwee', headed by Yr-Solheim & Maȟpíya, passed through the horned gateway of Orcgrimmor. Their feet shuffled and their hands struck at dhols on either side or held sringas upright as horns blared. Hands unencumbered with the tasks of holding or striking instruments swayed in rigid, martial movements. Maȟpíya stepped to the forefront of the dancing procession and, with both cupped palms turning outward, greeted the assemblage of Orks. Hinhanni! Chee'thuyu hil'Hurkaan wa tsum Mamlakaan bee'sa'eedam.

 

Two Kwee' men dressed in feather bonnets and embroidered robes carried banners, bobbing them up and down to direct two slightly wagons to either side of the assembly. Skewers of grilled rabbit and lamb kebabs had been affixed between the walls of the wagons. The dancing soon ended with the Kwee' seating themselves amongst the Orks. Minto'Lur and Maȟpíya found each other and sat together.

 

 

"Hail to thee mighty Orks of the Oasis!" Maȟpíya greeted, his hand held upright and waving as the feast began.

 

"Welcome to Hordelandz Kwee'rex," Minto'Lur responded. The sounds of meat being stripped from bone and the guttural cacophony of feeding soon drowned out most other noises.

 

"Latz want to klomp?" queried a young Orc, his ashen facial expression implied defeat for Maȟpíya. Maȟpíya grinned a toothy grin, enjoining himself to leap into the jaws of defeat with glee. One cannot earn friendship without paying respects to what pleases them. Thraaluk'Gorkil crossed his arms, enjoying the Kwee's acceptance of the challenge.

 

Spoiler

Cheers for the fun event feasting with the Orcs! @Narthok@Hermit_Jack@Jihnyny@Diogen@Carson@Wasteland_Shaman@Alioth72@SlitheryC1@AlternisJ@BenVader& others!

 

[Carson 936]

Yr-Solheim had nearly escaped what she thought was a sticky situation, having evaded questions about whether or not she was a paladin. “My son is the paladin I ask about.” That much wasn’t a lie, more so a half-truth. What had initially been a desire to live within the horde lands transformed into a complete and utter opposition to it in a split second.

 

Minto had assured her that paladins could visit, so long as they did not live there. That was not enough for Yr-Solheim. She wanted to live amongst her people, the Kwee, as much as she wanted to live amongst her other kin in Hefrumm. Her loyalty was to both, inalienable.

[Ibn Khaldun 7729]

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

Spoiler

 

 

The rabbit that laid upon the stool sprung up, hopping from stool to footrest below to the sands beneath that. Maȟpíya's nostrils flared, coughing for a moment as he reached for a sprig of myrrh which he then tossed into the campfire. The other Kwee seated around the fire facing Maulanataynuel echoed the same Achcha that Maȟpíya replied; acknowledgement of Maulanataynuel's abilities carried between each member. Jaadoo comes in all forms, tools of a season and a situation. Maȟpíya stood and began to walk around the campfire, his hand gestures regathering the attention of the Kwee who saw the demonstration.

 

"Maulanataynuel, ask a question about our tradition and I shall answer it," Maȟpíya exclaimed, continuing his circumambulation around the fire.

 

"I am a merchant, of the Kossuth, what should I keep in mind in matters of trade?" the new initiate asked.

 

"In manners of trade, the reality of our people being so few and living in the hardy desert forces us to appreciate what we manage to gather in terms of food, water, & resources. This life inspires us to be incredibly gracious to those who buy from us. We let the buyer name their price, we do not shrink from a poor person offering little & a wealthy person offering more. What is meant for us will enter our grasp no matter the obstacle, what is not meant for us will never enter our grasp no matter how much we connive and struggle for it," Maȟpíya advised.

 

"What of a person offering merely three minas for a crate of netherite?"

 

"I generally despise hypotheticals as they are often exaggerated and I've never seen even a poor pauper have the audacity to offer three minas for a crate, maybe a single ingot, but never a crate. . ," Maȟpíya bemoaned. He paused, doddering a forefinger through the air, before adding, "In terms of bartering, we do however haggle as the Qalasheen haggle, we are freer to express our opinion on what the proper ratio good for good should be."

 

The gathered Kwee nodded in agreement.

 

"A girl not yet bloomed approached me wanting to purchase a book when I visited the insaan hil'Aayuun having reached Minitz. She complained that she was saving her wealth to amend a family farm that had fallen into a state of disrepair. She offered three minas for a book of finest quality and then she asked a friend with her for a loan of ten minas. I shrank away from putting her in the shackles of debt, whether she could repay the loan back easily or not. We are not wont to put others in that sort of debt nor to harm their efforts to care for themselves. I told her the three minas sufficed," Maȟpíya recounted.

 

"That is a very nice example, yes," Maulanataynuel admitted, his head held high.

 

"What are the Kwee's views on combat? On duels?"

 

"Duels are welcomed, provided they aren't a means to slay kin, but the practice one gets to improve martial discipline is invited."

 

"And what of honor duels, if one calls another out as a coward and puts a stain on their name?"

 

 

Maȟpíya waved off the question with incredulity, answering, "Men don't answer the b!tch!ing of dogs. Why should I care that another man claim me coward or another man pettily denounces my tradition? He himself is not member of my tradition, what weight does his words carry to me? And what stains does an insult make? Insults are neither water nor ink. This is from a foreign tradition which we do not let bleed into ours without examinations of its merits or benefits." Maȟpíya drummed a forefinger against his bottom lip, adding, "I would not punish a kinsman who loses his cool over an insult, but I would discourage him from losing the reins of his own horse."

 

"That is fair, yes"

 

"Principally, combat is only waged in defense of kin, in defense of those under the gaze of our totems, & in defense of those who enter our camp for sanctuary. This extends to those who wish to use our camp as a sanctuary to discuss ending hostilities. One of the dreams of the Kwee' is that our blossoming camp be a neutral zone where any two parties - be they individuals or peoples - can end conflicts with us being mediators," Maȟpíya said.

 

Maulanataynuel nodded. Maȟpíya took a woven garland decorated with de-needled prickly pear flowers & desert juniper and placed it gently around the new initiate's neck.

 

 

Spoiler

A narrative post regarding @Markisstreaming's induction ceremony as he adopts the Kwee' tradition! Cheers to @Rat Hat & @Gimble for attending!

 

[Ibn Khaldun 7729]

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

Spoiler

 

 

With the break of dawn in the desert, there are no creatures to crow nor any cacophony of wildlife to wake you. This is the first truth any Kwee understands living at the Camp-atop-Mesa, upon the mesas that make up the Awlaad hil'Burooj. Mahpiya scratched at his ear while attending to rabbit stew outside his tipi. What noise stirs this hour of sunrise? He turned and saw a column of dust kicked up skyward, particles of sand and dust dancing in his view west of the mesa. Something stirs downwind at the oasis which we fish. He rested the bubbling pot off of its hitch above the fire and rapped his palms against tipi covers as he jogged to the western edge of the mesa.

 

Before him, at the base where mesa and sand-dune blend, galloped a great formation of Qalasheen cavalry with banners pitch black and slithering like snakes against the sands. Mahpiya doubled back to the camp, alerting the few who stirred to take up their bows and to bring long lengths of ropes. Within the hour, Mahpiya and his few riders merged with the greater formation of horsemen and converged on the western face of the oasis downwind from Camp-atop-Mesa.

 

"Ahlan wa Sahlan ya shaykhum hil'Qalasheen. Kesay chee'nsuru?" Mahpiya inquired in a smooth blend of Qalashi & Kwee' dialects. Shaykh Abdur-Rahman craned his neck at the question. "How can we help?" Mahpiya translated.

 

 

"This oasis, as your kinsmen can attest from the Southern Summit, was affirmed to belong to the Qalasheen which we would soon migrate and build dwellings upon. It appears an outsider decided it fit to be home to a blasted shrine of mushrik design. We mean to topple the idol and rid our oasis of it. I call upon your support ya Kwee'Hayastaani!" Shaykh Abdur-Rahman al-Mona exclaimed, looking between the Kwee' members with the last of his words.

 

Mahpiya took a length of rope round around his shoulder and began to tie together a slipknot. Shaykh Abdur-Rahman looked between the slipknot and Mahpiya, grinning widely and directing his horse out of the way as Mahpiya trotted over to the central idol. He mockingly cast the slipknot over the idol like a garland, then bade his horse to ride the opposite direction - the slipknot becoming a noose around the false deity. Members of the Qalasheen, the Kwee, and an Orc shaman riding under Lur banner all took to cinching additional slipknots around the idol and flanking gypsum pillars and all set their horses to ride in different directions in order to topple the entire shrine.

 

The shrine and its idol coughed up gypsum dust & debris as the stone construction toppled over, breaking against each other and onto the ground and being dragged across the oasis' shore as its destroyers rejoiced.

 

 

Spoiler

Very fun Roleplay, glad to have so many good-faith and fair-minded players in Southern Aevos. Cheers @Wasteland_Shaman @Chrisoulis777 @adamc2000 @ibraheemc2000 @APurrfectPossum @YounesGamer @Your Stepdad & others involved. Discord-craft, Minmax-craft, & 100Titles-craft players are advised not to metagame.

 

[Ibn Khaldun 7729]

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

Spoiler

 

 

A favorable arc the arrow took, launched from Wild Horse's bow. His smile snapped and rebounded seconds after his bow did, a sour look as he watched the arrow missed the head of the Rah'munan sentinel by a few feet. He retreated from view atop the great mushroom whose cap weighed the stalk down to bend at an angle from Nor'Velyth towards the castle of Rah'tuma. He peeked from cover to find the Rah'munan crying out in anguish as a similar arrow dug into his shoulder; this one shot somewhere from the dense wheat & corn fields that sprawled in front of both castle & city. The snickering of a goblin and the chatter of Orks recovered Farisbarii's morale.

 

Mahpiya took up his bow and made a hasty leap from cap to Nor'Velythine wall and continued down towards the main entryway. As he stepped out into the street, he holstered his shortbow and took on a concerned expression. By the time he reached the raised gates into Nor'Velyth, he had tied a length of rope with a loosened slipknot tied to one end and kept it around his belt. He padded at his pockets melodramatically as he caught sight of a Rah'munan and one of the Orkish warcriers engaged in dispute. He motioned his palms pleadingly, a handspan apart and perpendicular with the ground below, at one such Dark Elf who had stopped to investigate.

 

"Please! You know my face from our crossing paths in Kae'thul! I have been robbed, the good Ork is helping me!" Mahpiya exclaimed.

 

 

The Rah'munan's jaw dropped.

 

"If that is so, what did I steal?! I do not even know you!" the Rah'munan retorted.

 

Both the Ork and Mahpiya looked the Rah'munan up and down as he stood bearing kopesh and shield. "I was carrying a shield!" Mahpiya claimed, the Rah'munan gawked.

 

A mass of Orks & Goblins, mostly mounted, streamed from the highest wheat-bearing hills down to the Rah'munan fort. Mahpiya and Gundanat'Vukh launched sword and slipknot towards Imhotep. The combat waged as an aside to the greater one that seized Rah'tuma, the clangor of Orkish arms and shields beating down Rah'munans and pillaging castle street and merchant stalls could be heard as the three fought.

 

 

Spoiler

I just got around to writing this narrative post, but this was a fun bit of conflict RP!

 

[Ibn Khaldun 7729]

  

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

Spoiler

 

 

Can I espy a glimpse of my living kin, will they guide me as I dream this reverie repeated again? Is it day that my mind, sun-baked its temple, conjures fantasy or is it night whereby the constellations gift me this sight. I see a mesa gilded golden & silveren with great machines and architectures touched by magi's fingers. Another dream of the mage-masons of Ur, that illustrious ancient house of Mihyaar.

 

Maȟpíya arrived back at the Camp-atop-Mesa, carefully leading his horse nearly parallel with the steep incline up atop the rock formation. Tipis with streaming banners and totems dressed with as much cloth to make another came into view. He came upon saqrun, desert hawks with their heads hid beneath leather masks where black gauze pulled wool over their eyes. Still they stood, but excited they became as they felt the embrace of a human hand nudging their talons to take hold. He issued letters, reading the same, but addressed to many:

 

Mayhaps my absence offended you, but perhaps I can offer explanation. I sought to become learned in the masonry of Ur - old house of Mihyaar. My merchantry in books & paintings granted me access to great libraries such as that of the Hayulnoraans & the Hasenyaans. My pursuits led me into the halls of the Ak'vei & the Hohokmataan. Will you come & listen to me, visit your kinsman again? I have gathered good wealth that will aid us and our Qalasheen cousins who seek to migrate deeper into the desert. Will you not come & listen to me? Rest your feet for awhile and I shall apply what ingenuity I learned to the betterment of our folk. If you do decide to come & listen to me, I think you'll appreciate the first of such ingenuities which I have managed to fashion - it'll bear yourself & your horse both with ease.

 

 

The letters would be sent, one after the other, to the following individuals: Zahra al-Hamra, Gutlug'Lurkhaan, Yr-Solheim Kujalleq, Franz Maulanataynuel, Eliane Muntijnaar, Moiseyu.

 

Another letter would be disseminated, this time by his own hand to the various towns & cities across the southern expanse of Aevos. It read:

 

 

Have you interest in adopting customs old and customs held true? Have you a sense of belonging where ingenuity would be appreciated and nary a soul dare lord over you? Come, seek us out - the Kwee'Hayastaani. Venture along the desert road that snakes between the Orkish Oasis & the Hyspian Kingdom. Let your sights drift to look for high mesa crowned with totem of rabbit & hawk. Come, seek us out.

 

Spoiler

If you are interested in a non-Nation RP (and all the stress that comes with it) experience to play as your main character, alt character, or to adopt the culture in a current character - we'd love to have you! You can ping me on Discord ibnkhaldun8 or join our Discord in my signature by clicking the image.