Various Tales
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I have a few stories buried in my hard drive that I figured I would post. Some of them are backgrounds, but since I do not play the PCs anymore I figured the History's forum wouldn't be the right place for them.
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I stumbled across these just now. They were written and performed by Kamilah and should exist in the bard forums somewhere, although I don't have access anymore :lol:
The Summoning
Hastily written after Kamilah mistakenly took some drug (whose name I forget) that made her really, really angry. Hence the bloodstains.
One Knight In Selgaunt
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The desert winds speak of change. A dark promise made many decades ago that would come to light at the worst possible time. That promise is of course, that made by the Pasha Hussan al Fehzim almost 25 years ago, to a group he now believed long since dead. Such is the mistake of a man who's arrogance knows no bounds.
Pasha Hussan knows all too well the struggle that one must endure to become a respected merchant in Calimport. It is not an easy path to climb, nor an honest one; yet one that Pasha Hussan, son of Saref Faruk, respected Paladin of Azuth, sought as his own.Almost 11 years to this very day, a wave of gossip rang through the streets of Calimport. A girl born with eyes of violet to the young Pasha Hussan. A blessing to the wise Pasha from the gods, many declared. The Pasha, now clearly a favourite of Azuth's, was praised with offerings for many weeks.
As rare as it was for a child born of Calishite blood to possess an eye colour other than brown, they were wrong to suggest that this was the work of the Spell-Lord.
It is this day however, that this young girl must learn of her father's true nature. So long coddled by her mother Kadila's naivety, Dyani shared the cold wit and intellect of her father, with an even greater share of his arrogance. It was today that her long held respect for her father would be crushed.“My my, the great Pasha Hussan, basking in the glory of his fortune.” A familiar voice called out across the courtyard.
“A fine home you have here good Pasha; and might I say, a most beautiful family!”
The Pasha, who had been basking on the cushions out in the courtyard was startled, and sat up quickly before recognising his visitor.
“Why, Kalil! By what grace does Azuth bring you here this day?” Hussan exclaimed.
Kalil gave a short laugh and dismissed Hussan's question with a gentle wave.
“Azuth knows that I would never pass on the chance to visit my good step-brother, Hussan.”
“That he does.” Chuckled the Pasha. “Come, sit down.” The Pasha snapped his fingers and gestured to a nearby slave-girl.
“Fetch my brother a glass of water will you? Can you not see that his throat is parched from travelling all the way from Waterdeep!”
The slave girl quickly scurried off at the Pasha's words.The overweight Pasha Hussan gestured his step brother closer as he sat himself comfortably on the bed of cushions spread out beneath the hot sun in the glorious stone courtyard.
“The Vizar Akeem speaks of your new trade, to the east. By Azuth I hope that it fairs well, yes?”
Kalil gave a hesitant nod and unravelled the scarf from his neck.
“It has gotten off to a rather unforeseen eh… shallow start.”
“A travesty to hear of. Then you have journeyed to the city to seek investors?” The Pasha sighed in annoyance as he asked.
“My brother I had thought that we were honest with one another. You know that should I show preferential treatment to my distant family, why... surely everyone of my distant cousins would be turning up at my doorstep!” The Pasha chuckled.
The merchant Kalil's face startled in amusement at the Pasha's words.
“You assume too much as always, Hussan. I am not here of my own accord.”
“Then what?” Said the Pasha, steadily growing agitated.
“You have done well, Hussan. Built yourself from little else but a peasant Paladin's boy to a grand merchant; owner of almost 10 trade ship and 30 caravans. You have done well indeed. It couldn't have been easy.”
The Pasha smiled smugly. “Many know the tale of the hardship I endured once my father passed on, leaving everything of his possessions to the church. Why do you speak of this?”
“Because, Pasha, you have grown forgetful as you have aged.”
“Forgetful?” The Pasha asked, puzzled. “Calling in old gambling debts are we Kalil? Surely you cannot be that desperate.” Hussan joked.
“No Pasha Hussan yn Faruk al Fehzim. You know full well why I have returned to you...”A voice rises in outrage. The Pasha is angered and summons guards who do not appear. Fear consumes him and old memories come to rise. Promises that had sunk beneath the heavy sands long ago now climb to the surface. The outcast kin is angered but keeps it hidden. Wrestling the Pasha to the ground he draws the blade that gave the Pasha what he desired all those years ago.
“Please… Gods no!” Cries the Pasha.
Kalil grants a sly smile before releasing the Pasha from his tight grasp as the Pasha scrambles to his knees.
“I... I can give you anything! But please, not my blood!”
Kalil shakes his head slowly in response, sheathing his scimitar.
“You made a promise to us, Pasha. A promise that cannot just be buried as you would have it.”
Kalil looked down at Pasha Hussan in grave disdain.
“You owe us everything. We took care of your rivals and asked only that you serve us when we call upon you.”
The Pasha hung his head in shame at Kalil's words.
“I have tried... tried to forget about this day. Why now? Why after all this time!?”
“Interest.” Kalil grinned.Another outcry bursts through the courtyard. The desert sands stir as dispute rages in the Pasha's home in Calimport. The stubborn merchant dares to argue with the very man that truly earned him his riches so many years ago; arguing every semantic until his tongue turns dry. Again his outrage is subdued, and finally the arrogance is lifted from the heartless Pasha.
“Now, we know where we stand.” Says Kalil, wiping the Pasha's blood from his blade.
The Pasha stares aghast at his quivering, blood soaked hand; his now detached thumb held in the other.
“Your priest of Azuth will sew that back on.” Notes Kalil. “But for now we have business to talk, lest I remove yet another.”
The Pasha's brow furrowed. “You did not return here just to leave me deformed! What is it that you… your people; what is it they want from me?”
“Simple, really.” Uttered Kalil in response.“A child.”
Confusion shocked Pasha Hussan.
“A child of mine? By Azuth, whatever for?” Cried the Pasha.
“That is our choosing.”
The Pasha came to a sudden realisation. He shook his head dismissively and pointed a bloodied finger at Kalil.
“I will not have one of my children become a monster like you Kalil and serve that wicked harlot!”
Kalil kicked the Pasha down in an instance.
“Say what you will about me, Pasha. But do not cross her in that way again, or it shall be your tongue I cut out next!”
The Pasha raised his arms in submission as Kalil continued to beat him on the courtyard floor.
“Aesef! Aesef! I yield I yield!” Bellowed the Pasha as his lungs were pummelled by Kalil's boot.
“Hakem!” He cried. “A good strong boy! Take my boy Hakem!”
Kalil refrained from beating the Pasha further. He stepped away uttering a slow, smug chuckle.
“You try to offer me a boy who has long since reach the age of maturity, and has yet to leave your palace here and earn an honest day's pay? Do you never learn, Hussan?”
“Then what do you want?!” Spat the Pasha. “I have offered you a child!”
Kalil looked on in silence for almost a minute before turning on his heel to gaze at the Pasha intently.
“Eleven years and 6 days to this very afternoon, a young girl whose eyes were said to be blessed by the gods themselves, entered this world under your clan.”
Hussan fell silent as Kalil continued.
“Restrained in her ability only by our very culture. She has been very important to you, Pasha.”
“No, not Dyani!” The Pasha cried. “She means everything to me!”
“She means nothing to you.” Kalil interrupted. “She is nothing but another business opportunity, just like the rest of your daughters. Except this girl is blessed, and you know it. It would be crime to have such potential ruined by allowing you to marry her off to the Sultan that brings you the most wealth. You know full well that girl's with eyes like that fetch a high price amongst royalty!”
“Please! I beg of you! Take them all, but not Dyani!” The Pasha whined as tears ran from his cheeks.
“There will be no bargaining. The girl belongs to us now Pasha. May I never return here again.”The desert winds settle once more. The Pasha Hussan has lost his prize daughter. A girl born with violet eyes, a trait extremely rare to descendants of Djen blood. With this, the Pasha looks on at his future in doubt. The lucrative marriages he could have sealed with such a girl are now lost. Swept away by the ever changing sands of the desert. Though he may dwell in his grief, his daughter moves on. Indoctrinated in the arts of the Arcane, in her tutelage she learns of Faerun's darker secrets; ready to journey on to greater feats elsewhere…