The Eye of Anubis: Book One

[Kaitou Kage]

The foreign priest managed to collect a generous plate of food for himself while Samael disappeared to go visit the wine table. When the Borcan returned, Kuzan adjusted his sash and took the wine.

"Thank you," he said in his peculiarly accented Mordentish, "Ajad is a sailor's patron. Most of his lay followers drink stuff that would make Vishnu gag. Fortunately the priesthood gets a little better variety in drink."

He raised the glass and swirled the red liquid around. "I've never gotten to taste anything like this, though." The young man watched the wine as if mesmerized for a moment, and then gestured with his plate. "And the food seems so light. Do all Core-lander nobles eat like birds?"

OOC Note: Retconning Kuzan's priestly vestments/current attire. Can be viewed here and will be cross-posted to OOC

[NeoTiamat]

Lia--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I may as well be." Something seemed to strike Ramsey as amusing as he chuckled dryly. "I'm a Zherisian by birth actually, though I've made Port-a-Lucine my home for some decades now. A delightfully decadent city."

Lord Ramsey smiled again as he snagged a glass of wine from a passing servant's tray. His icy blue eyes bored into Lia for a minute, before he deigned to speak again.

"You needn't seem so worried. I would be a very poor Chair for the Philosophy Department here if I didn't learn the names of students. And of course, the members of the... illustrious... Menetnashte Expedition are quite important today."

The aged philosopher regarded Lia for another moment, then continued, a smirking smile upon his thin lips. "Tell me, Miss Mournswaithe, how does one such as you end up within such a...luminous... company?"

Tomas---------------------------------------------------------------------

Dieter filled his plate with a soldier's efficiency, then proceeded to devour it with a farmer's hunger. "You gotta admit, this University has a nice spread."

The Lamordian mercenary loaded himself a second helping of the food. "So why are you here, Tomas? I need the money, what about you?"

Otto------------------------------------------------------------------------

"That is one of the enduring mysteries of Har'Akir, how they created their magics, actually." Professor Pelletier's voice took on a 'lecturing' tone. "You see, our magic today is built upon words and gestures, to bend the laws of arcane reality to your mind. The sorcerous kind uses their wills, the priests their faith in their deity, the wizards precise rules of stress and weakness in the natural order. All channel power through different foci, but all use similar mediums."

"The Ancient Akiri were different. They utilized magic through the mediums of stone and metal, gold especially. Their magics were bound into the crafts of their time, and then released. Similar to the principal of the wand-stored spell, only on a much greater scale. I believe that for this their magics were weaker, but they had much greater endurance. Spells centuries, even millenia old are still extant in the desert today. And their great artefacts, those are of a power rivaling anything we create today."

"Unfortunately, while we know what they did, to wit, bind magic into material things with much greater facility then we have, we do not know how they did it. That is the coveted prize, the philosopher's stone of all Akiri magical research."

Allikhain-------------------------------------------------------------------

"Umm..... you're sure it wasn't someone opening a window?" Devereux considered for a moment, looking slightly flustered to have someone actually pay attention to him. Then his eyes glazed as he thought.

"It might be a ghost of some kind, I think that their passage, ethereally, of course, would cause a feeling like that. Or so I'm told at least."

Ulsaon---------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarari seemed mildly incredulous at Ulsaon's words, both the admission of never being to Sithicus and her admission of general tolerance to all demihumankind.

"You... would treat a dwarf as one of us? I do not know whence you come from, but in Sithicus, this marks you as a fool, an innocent, or a spy. Whichever it is, you are no concern of mine."

Sarari turned and stalked off through the crowd.

Khalil-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dragoman... that would be the same as a guide, I think? And an interpreter." Lily nodded to herself as she mentally translated the term. "Well, I need an escort if I'm not to be pestered by every single male in the room, and I think you'll do nicely."

She proferred her arm to Khalil, moving the sluggish air about with a green-silk fan. "Why don't we go and find Prof. Pelletier? I think L'Interrogateur would like to have an interview with the head of the Expedition before we go."

Kuzan----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Eat like birds, drink like fish. You get used to it after a while. The wines from Vor Ziyden, good vintage." Samael sipped and considered. "A '53 vintage, if I don't miss my guess. Good stuff, but you wouldn't expect the University to have any worse." Another sip, and another pause for thought. "The Arevini vinyards."

Shrugging, Samael took another sip of the wine and looked at Kuzan. "So tell me, my country cousin, what's a priest from Sri Raji doing on an expedition to Har'Akir?"

The Borcan grinned. "Last I checked, Har'Akir wasn't exactly a popular destination for shipping."

[lostboy]

"Dragoman... that would be the same as a guide, I think? And an interpreter." Lily nodded to herself as she mentally translated the term. "Well, I need an escort if I'm not to be pestered by every single male in the room, and I think you'll do nicely."

She proferred her arm to Khalil, moving the sluggish air about with a green-silk fan. "Why don't we go and find Prof. Pelletier? I think L'Interrogateur would like to have an interview with the head of the Expedition before we go."

"Indeed my lady, I am known as an escort with no equal and it would be a honour to my ancestors to escort one such as you." Bowing slightly Khalil takes her arm and moves deftly with her across the packed room towards the Professor. Touching the amulet at his throat ligthly, he prays silently in thanks. Fate indeed works in mysterious ways, Anubis you flatter your servant, and he is grateful for this opportunity.

"So tell me my lady, what draws one such as yourself to this expedition, purely business?" Khalil asks as they walk.

[Kaitou Kage]

Kuzan watched patiently as Samael indulged his intimate knowledge of fine wines. It was all a lot of mumbo-jumbo to him, so the priest opted to quietly weather the storm. When the Borcan finished and asked his question, Kuzan replied easily.

"Part of it's a pilgrimage," the priest explained, "Ajad is also a god of exploration and he expects his priests to take at least one pilgrimage in their lifetime to go and see far-off sights. When the high priest heard about the expedition, he took it as the perfect opportunity to send me off on my pilgrimage."

He paused to take a drink of his wine and then continued. "For the other part, apparently even less-religious people like many of these University high-ups appreciate the value of a priest's healing powers. Plus, I have good experience with mundane healing. We usually work as ship doctors on salvage expeditions. So I'll be working as the medic for the trip."

He took another sip. This stuff tasted strangely good.

"So what are you going to be doing on the trip? It's hard to remember who's who just from the list. The names are so foreign that it's hard to make them stick until I can match faces to them."

[steveflam]

Ulsaon shrugged at Sarari's reaction to her words. People are so close minded here. Spotting Allikhain in actual conversation with someone; her eyebrow raised. Now that's not something you see every day she smirked.

Not feeling like talking to any other of the party members, she made eye contact with Allikhain and started to make her way to the Monk and the man she was in conversation with.

[The Whistler]

"Ah... Heady stuff, yes." About a third of Otto's courseload involved magic devices and the theory surrounding them, so it was heartening to know that the Akiri method of spellcasting played into his interests. It was going to be an educational trip--among other things.

He grinned, raising his glass slightly as if in an unspoken toast. "Well, if the tomb is as splendid as our guide has said, perhaps we may each find our own 'philosopher's stone' within it, eh?"

He adjusted his spectacles, noticing over Pelletier's shoulder the two figures moving across the ballroom toward them. He indicated the couple to the professor:

"Hallo, then... Aren't those two with our group?"

[DocBeard]

Tomas has, perhaps, been slightly spoiled by University life, taking smaller portions than his countryman. And then, The Question is asked. Eisenwald looks to the left, as if reminiscing about some dread event in his past...

"And now, class!" Professor du Laurent said, "We are going to study the effects of meteoric iron weathervanes during a storm...a curiously large storm...good thing I have a graduate student to attract the terrible, terrible lightning-one of the many benefits of tenure!"

CRACKLE-THOOM!

"...and now, class..." Professor du Laurent continued, tripped over his own charred legs, and fell in a heap at the strangely un-lighteninged Tomas, who blinks a few times.

Tomas blinks, shaking his head, and smiles disarmingly at Dieter. "Well, my first project to get my doctorate sort of fell through, and this happened to be available..."

[yalenusveler]

Charles & Andre-----------------------------------------------------------

"Indeed, Professor Theroux, do go on. I suppose the two of us may constitute an audience now." Vedarrak smiled again, his eyes still cold however.

Andre nodded looking to his audience of two. "Well, ultimately, they're quite similar to most primitive faiths. You have a pantheon devoted to various aspects of life, all of whom are anthropomorphic for one reason or another, and have the usual unpleasant bickering. Leading to, as I said, things like one of their chief gods being an eunuch." Andre waited a short moment, then continued. "What is interesting though, and may make things most interesting for our little expedition, is how much they have caught up in the whole tomb protection thing. Although what we do is to protect history and knowledge, and preserve the glories of the past, I worry their primitive little divinities won't be able to tell the difference between us and a pack of tomb robbers." He fakes a small shudder "I surely would not like to end up the victim of some curse upon an ancient tomb"

[Nathan of the FoS]

Charles & Andre-----------------------------------------------------------

"Indeed, Professor Theroux, do go on. I suppose the two of us may constitute an audience now." Vedarrak smiled again, his eyes still cold however.

Andre nodded looking to his audience of two. "Well, ultimately, they're quite similar to most primitive faiths. You have a pantheon devoted to various aspects of life, all of whom are anthropomorphic for one reason or another, and have the usual unpleasant bickering. Leading to, as I said, things like one of their chief gods being an eunuch."

"Unfortunate fellow!" Martel says, smiling slightly. "Whither the power of divinity if it should be insufficient to prevent such complications?"

Andre waited a short moment, then continued. "What is interesting though, and may make things most interesting for our little expedition, is how much they have caught up in the whole tomb protection thing. Although what we do is to protect history and knowledge, and preserve the glories of the past, I worry their primitive little divinities won't be able to tell the difference between us and a pack of tomb robbers." He fakes a small shudder "I surely would not like to end up the victim of some curse upon an ancient tomb"

Charles says dryly, "From the point of view of the buried man, Professor, I suppose it matters little whether the men removing his burial goods from his "eternal house" intend to house them in museums or melt them down and spend the proceeds on high living; either way his goods are gone. Of course, as with everything in this life, if one cannot protect what is one's own, one must expect to lose it--as your own political economy demonstrates so effectively, Ambassador."

[NeoTiamat]

Khalil & Otto---------------------------------------------------------------

"Business I'm afraid. I'm the foreign correspondent for L'Interrogateur, which while it has its perks, also means I'm ever traveling from one place to another." Lily smiled again, an elusive dimple forming at the corner of her mouth. "Of course, I'd never admit it, but I love the adventure. Go to far away places, meet such exotic people. That's why I became a reporter."

Miss D'Envers covered her smile with the green fan as she looked at Khalil. "But of course you must know all about exotic lands. Ah, here we are!"

Professor Pelletier took Lily's hand and kissed it in a proper, gentlemanly fashion. "My dear, you grow lovelier upon the hour. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I was rather hoping you'd allow L'Interrogateur an interview before we leave." Lily glanced up and down Otto, but upon noticing the wedding band on his finger desisted from doing more.

"Certainly my dear. Otto, will you please excuse us?" Professor Pelletier took Lily's arm.

"Why don't you two boys talk a bit while the Professor and I do our little interview." Lily glanced at the exotic, black-armored desert-guide and the slightly pudgy and middle-aged student. "I'm sure you must have much in common...."

Tomas----------------------------------------------------------------------

"So you just happened to get into this expedition? Lucky devil." Dieter didn't seem to be very jealous though. "I had to get Captain Harris and Maleagant to sign off on me, and even then I think I'm only around because I'm the only one who Jervis will be willing to work with."

Dieter continued to polish off his plate. "Well, Maleagant can control him, but he's a big boss, he has better things to do. Mmmm.... if they had food like this back in Lamordia, I'd have stayed."

Kuzan----------------------------------------------------------------------

"A doctor, eh?" Maleagant looks around the room. "Hope you have a good cure for hangovers after tonight."

The Borcan swirled his wine and took another sip, the glass half empty by now. "Myself, I'm the sorry fellow in charge of organizing this Expedition. Prof. Pelletier over there is the head of the expedition, he decides what we do, handles all the scholarly aspect."

"I, on the other hand, get to figure out the how and the who of the trip. I get to negotiate with the innkeepers, keep the Expedition members in line, acquire supplies, all that fun stuff. Sort of like a cross between a quartermaster and bos'un, if I haven't garbled my nautical jargon."

Charles & Andre-----------------------------------------------------------

"Certainly. If a man cannot protect what he has, then what right to it has he?" Vedarrak replied without turning a hair. "It's the same world round. Look only to the speed with which a Dementlieuse family that runs afoul of social critics plummets to poverty and disgrace. Falkovnia merely makes less effort to hide the natural status of mankind."

"I can't imagine that the dead would feel any differently, come to that. Still," the Falkovnian Ambassador continued. "I presume the Expedition has made plans for this eventuality?"

[Nathan of the FoS]

"Certainly. If a man cannot protect what he has, then what right to it has he?" Vedarrak replied without turning a hair. "It's the same world round. Look only to the speed with which a Dementlieuse family that runs afoul of social critics plummets to poverty and disgrace. Falkovnia merely makes less effort to hide the natural status of mankind."

"Some fall to poverty and disgrace, others to Falkovnia," Martel replies blandly, with the air of one pronouncing a long-repeated aphorism. "From which we see the limits of social criticism. Good evening, Ambassador, Professor."

Bowing again, he turns on his heel and walks away.

Damn me black, he thinks to himself, consciously loosening his white-knuckled grip on his wineglass. I should never have spoken to him. I can't afford anger, or a scene, much less a duel with the likes of that thug.

Glancing around the crowd for a distraction--any distraction--his eye falls on the mysterious Veiled Maiden, deep in conversation with that old freethinker Ramsey. That should be diverting--in both senses, he thinks to himself as he bends his steps toward them.

"Good evening, Professor. Good evening, Miss...Mournesworth, isn't it? There are so many of us that I haven't met; it's really a bit embarassing. Of course, there's nothing like an expedition to the ends of the earth to foster intimate acquaintance!"

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Lia--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I may as well be." Something seemed to strike Ramsey as amusing as he chuckled dryly. "I'm a Zherisian by birth actually, though I've made Port-a-Lucine my home for some decades now. A delightfully decadent city."

"Zherisia," Lia notes with mild surprise. "You are ... quite a way from home. You must enjoy the ... decadence a lot, not to miss your home?"

Lord Ramsey smiled again as he snagged a glass of wine from a passing servant's tray. His icy blue eyes bored into Lia for a minute, before he deigned to speak again.

"You needn't seem so worried. I would be a very poor Chair for the Philosophy Department here if I didn't learn the names of students. And of course, the members of the... illustrious... Menetnashte Expedition are quite important today."

The aged philosopher regarded Lia for another moment, then continued, a smirking smile upon his thin lips. "Tell me, Miss Mournswaithe, how does one such as you end up within such a...luminous... company?"

Lia's own eyes narrow behind her mask and veil. "I am a graduate student of the faculty of archeology," she replies, her voice growing just a shade colder again. "How could I pass up the opportunity to apply myself for such a momentous occasion? I worked hard to get the position."
"And curse you for a fork-tongued word-twister!" Lia hisses in the privacy of her own mind. "What are you implying? Are you even implying anything? And how do you know what I was thinking, when I said it not out loud?"

Glancing around the crowd for a distraction--any distraction--Martel's eye falls on the mysterious Veiled Maiden, deep in conversation with that old freethinker Ramsey. That should be diverting--in both senses, he thinks to himself as he bends his steps toward them.

"Good evening, Professor. Good evening, Miss...Mournesworth, isn't it? There are so many of us that I haven't met; it's really a bit embarassing. Of course, there's nothing like an expedition to the ends of the earth to foster intimate acquaintance!"

Lia jumps slightly and even seems to cringe at being approached yet again.
"You are ... also with the expedition, are you not?" she asks, hesitant. "No, my name is not Mournesworth, thank goodness. The Mournesworths of Mordent are a deceased house. I am a Mourneswaithe." That last word comes out slightly sharper than the rest of the sentence ... "There have been some suggestions that we are an offshoot of the great family, but I, personally, am not convinced. And you are ...?"

[lostboy]

Khalil watches the woman leave with the professor. Not quite what i had in mind, but no matter it is a long road to the wastes, not all questions need be answered now.

He turns to regard the companion he has been left with. The man looked like a merchant, or an artisan, judging by the callouses on his hands , yet appearences were often deceptive as Khalil knew all too well.

"The whisper of a pretty girl can be heard further than the roar of a lion." he says with a rueful smile, "I am Khalil, a most resourceful guide to the expedition, I understand you are one of the learned scholars accompanying us to the wastes, yes?" He says with a polite nod of the head.

[DocBeard]

"Well, I've worked with Professor Devereux before." Tomas shrugs good naturedly, "He actually helped me pick up Mordentish when I first came here. Tricky language, you know? I helped him out with a few trickier phrases of the Old Tounge, sure, but it was kind of him all the same. Have you noticed how some people in this country speak as though they were fighting? It's something of a national sport; Herr Professor is..." Tomas pauses, straining to express himself. "...someone you can have a conversation with and not worry about what he might do with what you're saying."

Tomas frowns a little at his fellow graduate student getting cornered by Lord Handsy...and decides to keep half an eye on the situation, even if someone did come to help bail her out. Just in case. "Food? Hah! The food back home is like everything else back home, no? Nourishing, filling, efficently designed in accordance with the needs for a human to survive at those temperatures, and all at the negliable cost of a little something called flavor. Who cares if it tastes like sawdust as long as it's the proper Lamordian thing for proper Lamordians to eat, ja?"

Eisenwald blinks, and has the decency to look a little embarrased. "The real danger here is the wine. Lamordian spirits let you know what you're getting into, while Dementiluese wine thinks it's more polite to not mention it until after the fact, if you get my drift."

[The Whistler]

"The whisper of a pretty girl can be heard further than the roar of a lion." he says with a rueful smile

Otto nodded sympathetically. Now here's another something you wouldn't see back home: a poet in black leathers. That accent...Vaasi?

"I understand you are one of the learned scholars accompanying us to the wastes, yes?"

Now that was a laugh. "Haha--no, but I am glad that you have mistaken me for one! Learn-ing scholar, would be closer to the truth; I am studying arcane science, but I have been here for less than a year yet." He lowered his voice to a mock-conspiratorial whisper, grinning wryly. "Between you and me, I think they have only had me along because I can shoot..."

"Oh!-- Forgive me; where are my manners?" He extended his hand to shake. "Otto Schultheiss, late of Schultheiss Firearms in Lamordia. Where do you hail from, Khalil?"