Walkabout (Scatha & Barrett) - Samheen 25th MT

[Aislinn O`Conaill]

Pale strands of light gleamed along a few, cobweb clouds that hovered, ephemeral, in the lightening sky. Although the sun rose upon the other side of the palace first, the sudden transition from darkness to light was startling, as abrupt as the flaring of a match.

The air upon the balcony would already be warming, but a faint morning breeze swirled upwards from the moat and the not-so-distant shore, carrying with it the faint aroma of spices and baked earth.

Outside the room, a guard in a yellow toga - his head shaved but for a black braided top-knot - stood at attention, ready to greet them if they emerged.

Within moments of awakening stirrings within the room, a light knock pattered on the suite door. When answered, a servant girl bearing a tray of food would enter. A squat round pot of tea, fragrant with cinnamon and other sharp spices, sat nestled among yet more fresh fruit, figs, and two bowls of grain, softened with yet more spices and a bitter sauce. A small container of cream was a concession to the foreigners, who might find the foods dissimilar from their usual fare. Other small nibblies were scattered about the large tray such as nuts, a heavy-biscuit like bread, and two very large soft-boiled eggs about the size of their fists.

After setting the tray upon the low table surrounded by large cushions, the servant withdrew, listening to any requests before departing to fulfill them.

[Barrett]

The Querist hugged his arms close to ward off the chill, enjoying the pattern of light blooming across the horizon. He had not slept, choosing instead the meditation that allowed him to look back to the unresolved questions and minute details of the prior day. From where he stood on the balcony, he heard the tentative knock. He expected Scatha would be used to waking early, although she might not enjoy it. Barrett watched the rising of the desert sun and let the warmth begin to seep into his body. It soothed better than the sleep that would not come.

“Enter.”

The tall Dortman nodded to the servant and quickly perused the tray.
Spices. More spices. Spiced tea, spiced fruit, spiced cereal. Spiced everything. Good for masking the taint of a poison - although many poisons have no telltale taste. And some seem as innocent fruit... or nuts. Perhaps I am too cautious.

“Please. My stomach... does not agree with the exotic tastes of the spice. Might you bring some of the grain with no addition, and some water?”

[wyrdgirluk]

OOC : I'm assuming that Scatha and Barrett have seperate rooms adjoining each other

IC : Scatha stirred lazily, still half-drowned in sleep... then opened on bleary eye. Bright, golden sunlight filled the room, bathing everything in a soft warm glow, and for a moment she thought she'd overslept. Then she remembered where she was; Amun Rah, an island of sand, where the sun rose early and stayed in the sky longer than the longest summer day in Dort. With no clouds for it to hide behind, either... Scatha sat up in bed, quite naked, the sheets slipping down to her waist, then yawned and slowly pulled her fingers through her hair to untangle the worst knots. It even smelt warm... the air had that hot-earth tang to it, mixed with the faintest scent of spices that Scatha couldn't name.

Scatha stretched, and at that moment the door to her room swung open. She emitted a shriek of embarrassment, clutched the sheet to her, then burst into laughter as a servant girl brought in a tray of delicious smelling food. As soon as the girl had gone, Scatha scrambled out of bed and down to the low table where the tray was, then and settled herself upon the several cushions lying about. The food was an odd mixture - grain and eggs and nuts and bread, and some peculiar bitter stuff that definitely woke her taste buds up - and in the end Scatha just picked out the bits that tasted the best, mostly the fruits and figs. She tapped the eggs speculatively with a fingernail; they must have big chickens here. Or maybe they just have normal sized chickens with pained expressions...

Scatha wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, sat up, and looked speculatively around. It was already quite warm, but there was a faint draught from the balcony leading from the bedroom. It felt cool against her skin, and so Scatha took an apple, and sauntered lazily and quite nakedly to the balcony to see what there was to see...

[Aislinn O`Conaill]

Unfortunately, the sun rising on the opposite side of the palace limited Barrett's view to the rays stretching beyond the sandstone palace's heights. However, to both Scatha and Barrett there was much else to amuse their respective eyes. They were many floors up from the ground, and despite the relatively sparse foilage (as compared to a Citadel Garden) the greenery was no less beatiful for its exotic nature. Rather than vast spaces of greenery, it seemed more like every possible inch of walkway was lined with various ivyss and trailing plants.

A few bright flowers, brilliantly orange or purple or red, dotted various wide-leafed bushes; the trees varied but seemed to favor tall palms with shaggy looking trunks.

It seemed that several slaves in short, loose trousers, were scurrying about between the plants carrying pails of water. Not a single drop was spilled, and each pail was carefully emptied about the base of the greenery.

More buildings surrounded the courtyard they over-looked, but they all bore the same sandstone construction. There were various sigils and designs on the buildings, but little chance of discerning their use. One small extension from their own building, extending only 3 floors high, would catch Barrett's attention. His reflections from the morning would lead him to the conclusion that such housed the Archives he had visited the evening before. The curliques engraved upon it just might represent scrolls...

The servant bowed in response to Barrett's request. "As you wish, master. The Lady is awake next door, will you be joining her in her apartments or eating here?" It was a different servant from the evening before, but again wearing the white toga, which empasized the dusky tones of her well-formed limbs. Once he spoke, she departed to retrieve the requested items.

Scatha's appearance on the balcony was not immediately noticed, but a chance peek from one of the slaves below caught her arrival a spare burn after her appearance there. The balconies were by no means shielded from outside sight, and while her well-formed pale-skinned limbs were nothing to be ashamed of, few of the locals had ever seen such whiteness beyond face and hands.... If Scatha did not retreat soon, quite a few of the slaves below would be faltering in their duties...

The first man to see her, tripped, spilling half a pail of water across the stones - and was promptly descended upon by an angry Supervisor.

[Barrett]

Hmm... We face the sun as it sets. I wonder if that has some significance as to which guests are housed where. In a place where the sun has such import...
He looked up at the servant’s query.

“Yes, yes, I’ll take morning meal with the Lady Scatha, by all means.”
He nodded a dismissal.

Slaves... slavery. But they do not seem all that different from the servants at Citadel, or the workers elsewhere. Would I have been a slave, born in this place? What does it mean to them, I wonder. What loyalties or superstitions. Or is there simply no shame attached to such a station. And what of Nevamaier’s situation? Slavery even after death... unending sacrifice.

Such thoughts weighing heavily upon him, he slipped through the door that connected the two rooms only to find Scatha... gone? A flicker of panic before he thought of the balcony. And yet another when his eyes took in her naked form in plain sight of everyone below!

His mind reacted reflexively, reaching out to the focusing crystal and to the energy of the ambient light. A bright blinding flash to hide her for a moment while he rushed to her side with something for cover. A bedsheet, a cloak, anything.

“Scatha! You play at coyness about our sleeping arrangements and then put on a free show for the slaves in the palace yard. What will they think of us.”
He tried to keep the tension out of his voice, as if it were a simple jest.

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha peered over the balcony, enjoying the cool morning breeze on her skin, and took a bite of the apple. She enjoyed being naked; it felt more natural, somehow, as if she was nearer to the Mother. Scatha closed her eyes, and offered up a silent prayer to the Mother, thanking her for the adventure. She was so lost in the moment that she didn't notice the fellow in the courtyard dropping his pail, didn't even hear Barrett come in... the first thing she knew about it was his exclamation.

Scatha did what any self respecting farm girl from Dort would do when discovered quite naked with just an apple to preserve her modesty; she turned bright red, emitted an ear piercing shriek, threw the apple at Barrett's head, and then leapt for the bed sheet. "What ARE you doing???" she shrieked, bundling herself into the thin cotton sheet. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to knock? Go on, get back out, and don't come back until I say. Go on, OUT!" She snatched at a pillow, threw it at Barrett, realised her bosom had slipped out of the sheet, and emitted another blood curdling shriek; "OUT!"

[Barrett]

Of course, she wouldn't thank him for trying to shield her from strange eyes. Typical female. Complicating things by screaming to draw even more attention to them. Barrett decided that, so far, Erwin had definitely gotten the only profit from their arrangement. His loyalty to the ruler was being stretched far indeed!

Of course, she had a right to be scandalized at his entrance. Had he even briefly anticipated either Scatha's nudity or her abrupt development of modesty, he would have knocked. He considered clamping a hand around her mouth to at least silence her. But the prospect of servants walking in to find the pair engaged in a physical, semi-naked tussle was too much of a deterrent.

So he simply dodged her retribution and crossed to the balcony to give her some privacy. Calm talk would only work once she had regained her composure. Now used to the young woman's displays of violence, the young man moved warily until he was out of range. He wanted to take a look down and see if anyone had noticed Scatha's unintentional (Or perhaps it was intentional, he mused) display.

[Aislinn O`Conaill]

The power he sought was thick and cloying in its unfamiliarity, but after a few moments, familiar threads curled in the desired pattern. A flash flared from Scatha's form as she stood upon the balcony, successfully blocking view of her various bits and pieces, but drawing even more attention to the balcony itself.

Nearly all gazes were directed at the balcony now, though at Barrett's study of the situation, the supervisors began chastising the slaves back to work, occassionally thwacking one or two across the shoulders with what seemed a thick, blunt stick.

Within flickers, there were people scurrying about their tasks, looking busy whether or not they were accomplishing much. Several heads twitched as they glanced back upwards only to find Barrett gazing down upon them. Those who had not seen Scatha's white, bare form before - were now surreptitiously inquiring of their fellows who had.

Another knock sounded on the door, though it did not open until answered. A servant bearing Barrett's food would enter, deposit the tray quickly, and depart immediately. Another servant, bowing, would lay two sets of local garments across Scatha's bed before he too departed.

Scatha's garments were in two parts. At first glance, it could be assumed she was given skirts, however, when lifted, it was clear that it was a pair of trousers with widening legs that flared as they fell, similar to a skirt, but allowing freedom of movement. The shirt was a basic shortsleeved tunic, and even in the short time they had been there, some gold embroidery traced the hem and high neckline. Atop this was a longsleeved jacket that would fall to mid-hip, it was loose, and breathable, but covered all her skin.

The clothing left for Barrett was similarly practical, breathable, and light colored, but bearing the more masculine line and angle to the garments, the breeches just barely loose enough to allow movement and air flow, without seeming skirtlike.

From ankle to neck, their skin would be completely covered. It seemed the servants had well-noted the foreigners pale skin, and had accomodated accordingly. Little would hide their pale skin and brighter hair, but at least now they would not stick out overmuch when they ventured into society - and the heat would be somewhat kinder in these thinner clothes.

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha emitted another shriek as the door opened again, and threw the sheet entirely over her head to cover herself as the servant bearing the tray of food entered. She didn't move until she heard the door close, and then cautiously poked her head out. No-one here.... not even Barrett. For a second she started to simmer with rage at the thought of him bursting in without knocking, then remembered the expression on his face - part astonishment, part outrage and at least 50% oh my goodness it's my birthday, and burst into a fit of giggles.

When she had quite recovered, she peered down to the foot of the bed; not only was there another tray of food, but there were new clothes as well. She sat up to look at them, grabbed the sheet as it slipped down, and somehow arranged it around herself to form a makeshift wrap. The sheet was very thin cotton, practically see-through, and clung to her in a most unseemly way. If anything, it was probably worse than if she were naked.

Scatha scrambled out of the bed, still clutching the sheet, and picked up the new clothes; "Lovely," she declared, examining the tunic and flimsy pair of trousers. There didn't seem to be any underwear, but as Scatha didn't actually bother with undergarments it seemed rude to complain. The act of examining the garments caused the sheet to slip again, and Scatha grabbed it back into place before returned to her examination of the garments, quite unaware that the back of her makeshift wrap had slipped precariously below her bottom...

[Barrett]

Barrett looked down upon the assemblage, observing the observers as it were. He nodded apprival of the apparent chastisement. But in the same flicker he worried that the poor men were being punished for something that was no fault of theirs. No one had asked for a naked woman, or a blinding flash of light for that matter.

My own reaction has probably drawn as much, if not more attention than Scatha. I wonder what they will make of it...

He took another burn to observe the surrounding area, trying his best to find the landmarks that he knew would come in handy. He wanted to have a solid reference before venturing out, even if they were to be escorted. Just in case... Barrett's escorts had a habit of ending up dead or injured. Which brought his mind quite nicely back to Scatha. Would he be comfortable allowing her to risk herself when the inevitable attack came? Or would his protectiveness prove a hindrance to them both?

"Scatha," he called out.

"My lady, are you covered?"
He tried to make his voice sound properly abashed and apologetic. Secretly he was rather amused. Her worldly manner had flown to bits at the simple prospect of having Barrett see her nude.

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha emitted another shriek of alarm as she realised that Barrett was in fact still on the balcony, grabbed the clothes and the sheet, and flumped onto the bed, dragging the sheet around her so that she eventually looked like she was emerging from a badly shaped meringue. "I'm decent now," she announced loftily. "As opposed to when someone burst into my room without knocking." She waited for Barrett to come in from the balcony before lobbing another pillow in his general direction; "Well, what have you got to say for yourself? Do you usually go wandering into ladies rooms without knocking? And pass me one of those dates, they're rather moreish."

[Barrett]

Barrett stepped gingerly into the room.
"Yes, yes. It had not occurred to me that you would be unclothed. I apologize for startling you."
He brought the tray closer so that Scatha could choose whatever tidbits she wanted without risk of exposing herself further.
"Although I do wonder why, if you're so sensitive and proper, you were showing yourself off to everyone fortunate enough to be on the work crew below."
He cocked one eyebrow and grinned wickedly.

The Dortman then noticed his own food, but it was quickly forgotten when he saw the other delivery.
"Are these our clothes? My goodness!"
He lifted the fabric to test its thickness and drape.
"I wonder if head covering would also be prudent. And I'm not so sure about the embroidery. I'd prefer something that wouldn't mark us as wealthy... or mark us at all, for that matter."

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha pursed her lips; "Well, I didn't know that there would be people looking up, did I?" She blushed faintly at the idea, then grinned at Barrett. "Besides, I noticed you taking a good look, mister-oh-so-proper. A real gentleman would have left the room." And a real lady wouldn't have wandered on to the balcony with nothing but an apple and a smile, a cold voice like her aunt Etain's whispered in her head. Scatha popped the date in her mouth, and considered Barrett's comments about the clothes; "What's wrong with them?" she enquired through a mouthful of fruit. "They look lovely. Why wouldn't you want people to look at us?" She was actually dying to try them on, but if Barrett thought he was going to watch while she did so, then he had another think coming. "And if you've worried about the sun, then I am sure we can get a hat, something with a wide brim."

[Aislinn O`Conaill]

The clothes were provided, as had been the food, so the servants would not return unless called (especially considering Scatha's earlier shriek). The early morning left much time for exploration and sight-seeing, if the two settled on a course of action. The previous evening a brief note from the Rafao apologized that matters of state would keep him busy on the morrow, but perhaps they would join him at his evening meal, if they were not occupied with their exploration.

The commotion in the garden had died down, and the slaves had dissapated like fog on a sunny day, slipping off to perform their other duties, no doubt bringing the tale of the morning's events with them.

[Barrett]

"Well of course I looked. I had to: I couldn't just go waving a sheet about blindly in hopes of covering your considerable blessings. Mother knows where my hand might have ended up by accident."
Barrett chuckled good-naturedly to cover any awkwardness he might yet feel about the incident. He focused for a few flickers on the plain food he had requested. He tasted it most carefully alert for any hint of an improper seasoning to his meal.
"Look. I don't mean to imply anything bad about your character. Some folks like the way the air feels on naked skin. Just be careful about who may be watching you, please. And I‘ll try to remember to knock. If I wasn‘t an only child it probably would have come naturally."

"As for the clothes... they are lovely, as befits a gift to the Rafao's guests. I'd just prefer not to have everyone and their cousin talking about the couple from Dort and being able to relate all of our movements to whoever might be interested. Mainly because, at this point, anyone who might be interested in our actions and location is quite probably also interested in our unfortunate imminent demise - our deaths."
Careful. You might want to get off of this subject.

“Do you fancy a bit of exploring the river and its marshes today? There’s a bird that lives there called the Thothos. Brilliant red feathers. It has quite captured my imagination.”

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha grinned at Barrett; considerable blessings sounded like a compliment, probably about certain parts of her. "Well... I'll forgive you this time. And at least it was a genuine mistake, its not like Fergal Macalla who used to give me sweets to climb up apple trees so that he could look up my skirt at my underwear. But once I found out, I fooled him - the next time, I didn't wear any." She pursed her lips, and spat the date stone expertly out on to the balcony; "Though I don't understand why anyone would be that interested in underwear. It's like that man who stole my aunt Etain's undergarments from the washing line. Why would he want to do that? It's not as if they'd fit him, they're far too small."

Scatha considered Barrett's remarks about the clothes, and snorted with laughter; "Don't be ridiculous. Who'd want to kill a man interested in books, and a farm girl from Dort? If anything when people see these lovely clothes, they'll think we are guest of the Rafao, and treat us with respect. Besides, I bet the Rafao sends guards to make sure we don't get lost - not that I'd get lost, anyhow." She visibly brightened at the prospect of going outdoors; "I'd very much like to see these Thothos... maybe I'll be able to get a feather from one, if we're lucky."

[Barrett]

“You- didn’t wear any!”
He burst out laughing unable to keep the picture of a very surprised Fergal Macalla out of his head. The laughter doubled with the additional image of a roguish farmer wearing a woman’s smallthings.

“Perhaps the man taking your aunt’s clothes was giving them to someone else. Or maybe he just wanted to vex your aunt.”

The young priest was being serious. Using his mind to tackle the question she had asked, however trivial. He did no yet have knowledge of certain... tastes that would have more readily explained the purloined panties.

“But Scatha, I must be serious with your for a burn. To you, we are merely a bookish lad and farm girl from Dort. But our reasons for being here are more serious. And we are associating with very important people. Very dangerous people... and beings. With very dangerous enemies.”

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha pursed her lips; "Just because we know famous people, it doesn't mean that we are as famous as they are. Likewise, if they were dangerous, it wouldn't make us dangerous. I think it would have to be someone pretty stupid to think that just because I talked to the Duke, I'm therefore dangerous - or important. Besides, the Duke and Rafao don't seem very dangerous to me - they seem perfectly sweet. After all, look at how well they have treated us." She pulled the sheet round her; "And now, Master Threespan, I think you should take your tray and leave a lady to get dressed in private." She raised one eyebrow, and pointed to the door; "Go on, or else I shall throw another pillow at you."

[Barrett]

"A burn more, please. One doesn't need to be famous to be the target of murder. In fact, it makes one an easier target. Furst Erwin and Rafao Ionis are more than the sweet men they appear to you. They do not stay alive and in power by assuming that folk wish them well. And others, who wish to grab power for themselves might easily seek to do whatever they can to thwart such men. If they cannot get close enough to the ruler, they may easily seek to strike out at those who are doing the ruler's bidding. That would be us. Unimportant, unknown and therefore easily eliminated. You also forget that little rock that you carry. The crystal is quite easily worth the taking of a life or several lives to certain people."

Ignorance. An educator's main obstacle, and in this case a considerable one. But perhaps it would prove beneficial. If Scatha truly thought of them as persons of no importance, then it might help maintain the illusion that such was the case. Almost, Barrett envied her. It seemed almost a lifetime ago that he had been able to feel carefree about anything. He sighed, wishing for an end to all the plotting and danger. (Quite oblivious to the fact that if none were present he would likely seek them out...)

"Even if you do not believe me, please humor me. Be cautious. Don't draw too much attention. And let me know of anything that seems threatening or suspicious - no matter how small a detail it may be."

"And now," he could not keep a most unscholarly expression from his own face, " I think I shall go and see if I can find a lady anywhere in the vicinity!"
He left hurriedly careful of flying cushions or utensils.

After a thorough examination of every span of the fabric, Barrett donned his own garments. Truth be known, they were quite a bit more comfortable than the Citadel finery in which he had been appearing. Once they were out and about, he would consider making it more of a disguise.

[wyrdgirluk]

"Be sure to pick up some manners on your way out," Scatha hissed, throwing the pillow at the hastily existing Barrett... then burst into giggles once he'd gone. He was alright, she decided, even if he did use ten words (long words, at that) when one would do, and worried more than her aunt Etain once she'd found that the mice had got in and nibbled her bottom drawer. If he wasn't so uptight and clever-clogs he'd be half passable. She flopped back on to the bed, and considered what he'd said. Most of it was nonsense - anyone who thought sending assassins after a farm girl just because she'd been asked to look after someone, and make sure they didn't get lost, was probably quite mad, or had too much time on their hands, or quite possibly both. He was right about the crystal though, and for one heart stopping moment Scatha couldn't remeber where she'd left it... then she did. She scrambled out of the bed sheets and over to her own clothes, and breathed a sigh of relief as her fingers found the small, pure crystal in the pocket of her leather trousers.

Scatha sat crossed legged and held the crystal up between her thumb and finger; "More trouble than you're worth, in my opinion," she remarked cheerfully, then tucked it back into her trousers. She stood up, stretched, then made her way over to a dressing table, which thankfully included a brush and a mirror, and tried to bring some kind of order to her hair. It was a close run thing, but her hair won (as it usually did) and in the end Scatha tied it into the usual two untidy bunches on the top of her head, before considering the new clothes she'd been bought. They were lovely, and would probably be a lot cooler than the tight leather trousers she usually prowled around in, and with that Scatha slipped into them. For a moment she debated whether to leave the crystal in the room, but in the end extracted it from her leather trousers and tucked into the pocket of the jacket she had been given.

Her new clothes felt lovely - light and delicate, although rather loose. She gazed at herself in the mirror; "Better than mortal man deserves," she declared, and then went over to the door that connected their rooms.

Scatha rapped on it loudly; "Are you decent, Barrett?" she bellowed. "I'm only asking, in case you're NAKED, and as I have some MANNERS I wouldn't want to walk in without KNOCKING..."

[Barrett]

Barrett performed his morning ablutions with the usual haste. He then considered the new clothing. He moved around a bit, practicing some basic Salaura hileuwroth movements before he made a few adjustments for comfort.
Better, yes.

He then attended to more spiritual grooming. The priest took a few burns to achieve optimal meditative trance. Then he slipped into the Aether, gathered the silvery arcane symbols and fixed them into a subtle version of his magickal shield. It was getting easier. He could adjust the formulae to provide protection without enclosing himself in an impenetrable shell.

My Lord, thank you for the privilege of yet another wondrous journey. I pray my senses and my mind will prove capable of the tasks ahead. Please grant me the wisdom and strength to be a good mentor to Lady Scatha. She is not one of yours, but I pray to kindle her spirit of curiosity and eagerness to expand her knowledge and perspective.

Said Lady's less than subtle interruption coincided with the end of that small prayer.

"Ah, madam. I am always decent, frequently superior in fact. Do come in! What need have you to knock with such a fanfare of vocal magnificence to proceed you?"

He bowed his most courtly gesture to his Lady, a silly grin slapped across his face.

"Are you ready for some exploration?"

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha swung the door open and stuck her head though; "I can't see anything superior in this room apart from my hair," she commented loftily. "And you're using big words again. Stop it, you're making the air round my ears hurt." She brought the rest of herself inot the room, and looked Barrett up and down; "Not bad," she said approvingly. "Cleaned up quite well, all things considering. So... where are we going? You said something about seeing some birds. Are they just for looking at, or are they good to eat?" Scatha was nothing if not practical, and tended to assess things depedning on whether they were ornamental or useful. She wasn't entirely sure which category Barrett fell into, but was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt for the moment...

[Aislinn O`Conaill]

Barrett would find that reaching the Aether was not as easy as in the Citadel, the arcane symbols that represented threads of magic were somewhat familiar - and yet just different enough to make focused thought necessary for managing them. As he had learned from the Library the evening before about local lore, Ancestor worship was predominant here, and thus the connection to magic and the aether varied from his previous experiences were slightly different.

So faint it may have been imagined or there all along, Barrett would feel a peace settling within his limbs, and a quiet sense of approval momentarily settled in the back of his mind. The momentary sensation of <i>presence,</i> however faint, disappeared with the next flicker - but hopefully Barrett's reserve of patience for his companion had been restored somewhat.

A knock rumbled through the hallway door, preceding the entrance of Alevina, her calm features polite, and dark eyes warm with greeting.

"I hope to find you... ready and refreshed to greet the new day." A corner of her mouth quivered in what might have been the beginning of an amused smile, but was quickly restrained. With a courteous bow directed generally at the two of them, she straightened with her face smooth and controlled.

"I hope you find everything to your desires? Is there aught I can bring or direct you to?"

[wyrdgirluk]

Scatha grinned at Alevina; "And a good morning to you, too. And yes, there are some things I'd like, especially if we're going to see the rest of the island. Let's see... a hat, definitely, something with a wide brim. And a whip, if you could find such a thing - I feel more secure knowing I can lay my hand on a whip. Oh, and a selection of small but sharp knives would be very acceptable, if you could find such a thing. And a belt to hold them." She pursed her lips; "And a knapsack with some food, and a waterskin. Oh, and a guide." She turned to Barrett; "I think that would just about cover it, don't you think?"

[Barrett]

The subtleties of Aether never failed to amaze Barrett. The smooth, fluid touch of the Thinker’s gift. the rough, more deliberate manipulations of Sorcery... place energies... and now the pervasive spirits of Amun Rah. He was tempted to call upon Nevamaier, just to see if she would answer him...

But that lesson would have to wait.

“Thank you, Lady Scatha. And I find myself not displeased with your own fair appearance.”

He winked at her in a most unscholarly manner.

“The Thothos... we shall find them I believe along the banks of the great river Emphalis. A little marsh exploration. And while they will be good to look at, I would not advise eating them. They feed upon a dreadfully noxious cabbage that probably makes them most un-tasty. I hope to retrieve some feathers if I may - to be made into writing quills and ornaments. Most likely we will also see the great reptiles that also live in the marsh waters.”

The man gave a respectful nod to the servant woman. (Slave, he corrected himself.)
“Ah, we are most refreshed. The hospitality of the Rafao’s household is beyond anything I have yet experienced.”

He listened to Scatha’s list. To his credit he neither cringed nor laughed. Merely nodded his head in approval.
It is a practical list after all.

“I should like a satchel to carry my writing kit - in case we encounter a spot for me to entertain my lady by drawing a portrait. She cuts a very imposing figure carrying her whip. Water is practical if we are to be exploring on foot. And I suspect there will be a guard assigned. Might I request that it be someone familiar with desert travel and the geographical features around the river. A guide, as my lady says, who might be willing to educate some newcomers to the delights and dangers of this isle.”