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Huddled into herself in the near true darkness, Nenet nearly jumped out of her skin when Nefertaari’s hand brushed her. She only calmed the slightest bit when the other’s voice pierced the shadows, demanding her to quit panicking. Nenet glared at where she knew her sister to be. Stop panicking? Stop panicking. If there was ever a time to panic, she was pretty sure this was it. Was Nefertaari not afraid that there were unseen people taking down their guards and hands coming out of the gloom to snatch and necklaces and priceless jewels? Obviously her eldest sister was an idiot and Nenet felt perfectly safe panicking. She also did not waste her breath answering Nef when the other asked what was going on. What she really wanted to do was clap her hand over Nef’s mouth to get her to shut up. Despite agreeing with her sister’s thoughts that they should do something and get out of this situation, she didn’t see how voicing it aloud was going to help. If anything, it was going to draw attention. Nenet hunkered down, hugging her knees and pressing her chin down hard enough that her jaw hurt.
Shadows moved toward them but even in this semi dark, Nenet knew who these people were; Hena and Nia. As one, she and Nef rose and this time, Nenet really did clap a hand over Nef’s mouth. She could just feel the venom her older sister was going to spit at Hena and Nenet wasn’t having it. Not right now. Not when he was actually going to help them. She withdrew her hand quickly when Nef practically bit at her. Now wasn’t the time for revenge, but Nef would find a strongly worded letter under her door if they all lived through this.
Nenet had no jewels to get rid of and simply waited, glancing nervously around until Hena decided that all was good enough so that he could put his plan into motion. He led them to a bookshelf and, predictably, helped Nia first. Nenet had entirely forgotten this window was here and shifted her weight from foot to foot in nervous agitation, waiting for her turn. She was about to go next when Nef literally put her hand in her face and shoved her backward so that she could go first, slipping up and through the window after Nia. Oh yes. Not only would Nef receive a scathing letter? But Nenet was going to tell their mother, too.
At that moment, she looked around, tugging on Hena’s sleeve. “W-w-ha-at-t ab-b-out-t m-m-mom?” she whispered as quietly as she could under the circumstances. And then, as though Iaheru heard her concern, Iaheru set ablaze her own...cloak? Nenet couldn’t tell, but it threw a blazing light into the room, however brief it might last. It was then that Nenet knew that no matter what happened, her mother would be fine. Though, she couldn’t quite bring herself to part with her mother.
“I-I-I’m-m g-g-going-g t-t-t-o g-g-get-t h-her!” Nenet told Hena and as soon as she turned and tripped, she looked back at her brother and felt that he was not going to wait for her. He would jump up the bookcase himself and be off. Didn’t matter. Nenet knew what sort of reception she’d have with her siblings and she knew she’d never forgive herself if she left her mother there all alone. Scrambling to her feet, Nenet darted towards Iaheru, somehow moving around a hulking man who was moving toward them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a smaller one with a bag bulging under the weight of so many jewels. Another threatened Queen Hatshepsut but the queen had guards and Nenet was not as concerned about the royal woman as she was about her own mother.
“M-m-mo-om-m!” she reached Iaheru just as someone else did and found herself flung backwards onto her butt on the hard floor. Nenet cried out in pain and shock, seeing Iaheru blocked from her by...a huge man.
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Huddled into herself in the near true darkness, Nenet nearly jumped out of her skin when Nefertaari’s hand brushed her. She only calmed the slightest bit when the other’s voice pierced the shadows, demanding her to quit panicking. Nenet glared at where she knew her sister to be. Stop panicking? Stop panicking. If there was ever a time to panic, she was pretty sure this was it. Was Nefertaari not afraid that there were unseen people taking down their guards and hands coming out of the gloom to snatch and necklaces and priceless jewels? Obviously her eldest sister was an idiot and Nenet felt perfectly safe panicking. She also did not waste her breath answering Nef when the other asked what was going on. What she really wanted to do was clap her hand over Nef’s mouth to get her to shut up. Despite agreeing with her sister’s thoughts that they should do something and get out of this situation, she didn’t see how voicing it aloud was going to help. If anything, it was going to draw attention. Nenet hunkered down, hugging her knees and pressing her chin down hard enough that her jaw hurt.
Shadows moved toward them but even in this semi dark, Nenet knew who these people were; Hena and Nia. As one, she and Nef rose and this time, Nenet really did clap a hand over Nef’s mouth. She could just feel the venom her older sister was going to spit at Hena and Nenet wasn’t having it. Not right now. Not when he was actually going to help them. She withdrew her hand quickly when Nef practically bit at her. Now wasn’t the time for revenge, but Nef would find a strongly worded letter under her door if they all lived through this.
Nenet had no jewels to get rid of and simply waited, glancing nervously around until Hena decided that all was good enough so that he could put his plan into motion. He led them to a bookshelf and, predictably, helped Nia first. Nenet had entirely forgotten this window was here and shifted her weight from foot to foot in nervous agitation, waiting for her turn. She was about to go next when Nef literally put her hand in her face and shoved her backward so that she could go first, slipping up and through the window after Nia. Oh yes. Not only would Nef receive a scathing letter? But Nenet was going to tell their mother, too.
At that moment, she looked around, tugging on Hena’s sleeve. “W-w-ha-at-t ab-b-out-t m-m-mom?” she whispered as quietly as she could under the circumstances. And then, as though Iaheru heard her concern, Iaheru set ablaze her own...cloak? Nenet couldn’t tell, but it threw a blazing light into the room, however brief it might last. It was then that Nenet knew that no matter what happened, her mother would be fine. Though, she couldn’t quite bring herself to part with her mother.
“I-I-I’m-m g-g-going-g t-t-t-o g-g-get-t h-her!” Nenet told Hena and as soon as she turned and tripped, she looked back at her brother and felt that he was not going to wait for her. He would jump up the bookcase himself and be off. Didn’t matter. Nenet knew what sort of reception she’d have with her siblings and she knew she’d never forgive herself if she left her mother there all alone. Scrambling to her feet, Nenet darted towards Iaheru, somehow moving around a hulking man who was moving toward them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a smaller one with a bag bulging under the weight of so many jewels. Another threatened Queen Hatshepsut but the queen had guards and Nenet was not as concerned about the royal woman as she was about her own mother.
“M-m-mo-om-m!” she reached Iaheru just as someone else did and found herself flung backwards onto her butt on the hard floor. Nenet cried out in pain and shock, seeing Iaheru blocked from her by...a huge man.
Huddled into herself in the near true darkness, Nenet nearly jumped out of her skin when Nefertaari’s hand brushed her. She only calmed the slightest bit when the other’s voice pierced the shadows, demanding her to quit panicking. Nenet glared at where she knew her sister to be. Stop panicking? Stop panicking. If there was ever a time to panic, she was pretty sure this was it. Was Nefertaari not afraid that there were unseen people taking down their guards and hands coming out of the gloom to snatch and necklaces and priceless jewels? Obviously her eldest sister was an idiot and Nenet felt perfectly safe panicking. She also did not waste her breath answering Nef when the other asked what was going on. What she really wanted to do was clap her hand over Nef’s mouth to get her to shut up. Despite agreeing with her sister’s thoughts that they should do something and get out of this situation, she didn’t see how voicing it aloud was going to help. If anything, it was going to draw attention. Nenet hunkered down, hugging her knees and pressing her chin down hard enough that her jaw hurt.
Shadows moved toward them but even in this semi dark, Nenet knew who these people were; Hena and Nia. As one, she and Nef rose and this time, Nenet really did clap a hand over Nef’s mouth. She could just feel the venom her older sister was going to spit at Hena and Nenet wasn’t having it. Not right now. Not when he was actually going to help them. She withdrew her hand quickly when Nef practically bit at her. Now wasn’t the time for revenge, but Nef would find a strongly worded letter under her door if they all lived through this.
Nenet had no jewels to get rid of and simply waited, glancing nervously around until Hena decided that all was good enough so that he could put his plan into motion. He led them to a bookshelf and, predictably, helped Nia first. Nenet had entirely forgotten this window was here and shifted her weight from foot to foot in nervous agitation, waiting for her turn. She was about to go next when Nef literally put her hand in her face and shoved her backward so that she could go first, slipping up and through the window after Nia. Oh yes. Not only would Nef receive a scathing letter? But Nenet was going to tell their mother, too.
At that moment, she looked around, tugging on Hena’s sleeve. “W-w-ha-at-t ab-b-out-t m-m-mom?” she whispered as quietly as she could under the circumstances. And then, as though Iaheru heard her concern, Iaheru set ablaze her own...cloak? Nenet couldn’t tell, but it threw a blazing light into the room, however brief it might last. It was then that Nenet knew that no matter what happened, her mother would be fine. Though, she couldn’t quite bring herself to part with her mother.
“I-I-I’m-m g-g-going-g t-t-t-o g-g-get-t h-her!” Nenet told Hena and as soon as she turned and tripped, she looked back at her brother and felt that he was not going to wait for her. He would jump up the bookcase himself and be off. Didn’t matter. Nenet knew what sort of reception she’d have with her siblings and she knew she’d never forgive herself if she left her mother there all alone. Scrambling to her feet, Nenet darted towards Iaheru, somehow moving around a hulking man who was moving toward them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a smaller one with a bag bulging under the weight of so many jewels. Another threatened Queen Hatshepsut but the queen had guards and Nenet was not as concerned about the royal woman as she was about her own mother.
“M-m-mo-om-m!” she reached Iaheru just as someone else did and found herself flung backwards onto her butt on the hard floor. Nenet cried out in pain and shock, seeing Iaheru blocked from her by...a huge man.
Once most of the guards were dismantled, Khanh took a bag from his belt and followed suit with Zai and Akhmad, shoving in as many jewels as he could possibly do. A grin crossed his face when Nia and a man stole across the room towards the shadowy corner. Two women followed but Khanh shook his head. She hadn’t changed, he saw, not knowing that this was Nia’s brother. The same thrill that overtook Zai was the one Khanh was riding as he swept the jewels into the bag and felt the fabric strain under the weight. Though the greatest prize was the Queen of Egypt, Khanh wouldn’t have dreamed of touching her. Though he’d taken out the guards around the room, her body guards were surrounding her and he felt that the entire room of people would jump to the queen’s defense. It would be stupid to try. The idea was to live to pawn these gems; not die before they saw daylight.
All at once, the center of the room blazed to life and Khanh saw a fierce looking woman practically daring them all to do something about it. Light was their enemy right now, added to the fact that they could all die from the smoke if the fire caught the table cloths. He nearly tripped over a small, slim girl who darted in front of him towards the fire. Without a thought, Khanh knocked Nenet back, sending her sprawling and squared up with the older woman, intending to put that fire out. Zai appeared at his elbow, apparently the one determined to encounter the older woman, except that Iaheru struck first. Her ring caught his cheek, drawing a fine line of blood that seeped down his face.
Rage overtook Khanh in an instant and his arm shot out, grabbing a fist full of her clothes and drawing her away from Zai, throwing Iaheru to the ground without consideration for her age. “Idiot woman,” he muttered, glancing at Zai’s face to make sure the ring hadn’t caught the boy’s eye. Satisfied it had not, Khanh quickly went after the man with the torch, Khopesh brandished, intending to cut the man down before more torches could be re-lit. That would not happen.
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Once most of the guards were dismantled, Khanh took a bag from his belt and followed suit with Zai and Akhmad, shoving in as many jewels as he could possibly do. A grin crossed his face when Nia and a man stole across the room towards the shadowy corner. Two women followed but Khanh shook his head. She hadn’t changed, he saw, not knowing that this was Nia’s brother. The same thrill that overtook Zai was the one Khanh was riding as he swept the jewels into the bag and felt the fabric strain under the weight. Though the greatest prize was the Queen of Egypt, Khanh wouldn’t have dreamed of touching her. Though he’d taken out the guards around the room, her body guards were surrounding her and he felt that the entire room of people would jump to the queen’s defense. It would be stupid to try. The idea was to live to pawn these gems; not die before they saw daylight.
All at once, the center of the room blazed to life and Khanh saw a fierce looking woman practically daring them all to do something about it. Light was their enemy right now, added to the fact that they could all die from the smoke if the fire caught the table cloths. He nearly tripped over a small, slim girl who darted in front of him towards the fire. Without a thought, Khanh knocked Nenet back, sending her sprawling and squared up with the older woman, intending to put that fire out. Zai appeared at his elbow, apparently the one determined to encounter the older woman, except that Iaheru struck first. Her ring caught his cheek, drawing a fine line of blood that seeped down his face.
Rage overtook Khanh in an instant and his arm shot out, grabbing a fist full of her clothes and drawing her away from Zai, throwing Iaheru to the ground without consideration for her age. “Idiot woman,” he muttered, glancing at Zai’s face to make sure the ring hadn’t caught the boy’s eye. Satisfied it had not, Khanh quickly went after the man with the torch, Khopesh brandished, intending to cut the man down before more torches could be re-lit. That would not happen.
Once most of the guards were dismantled, Khanh took a bag from his belt and followed suit with Zai and Akhmad, shoving in as many jewels as he could possibly do. A grin crossed his face when Nia and a man stole across the room towards the shadowy corner. Two women followed but Khanh shook his head. She hadn’t changed, he saw, not knowing that this was Nia’s brother. The same thrill that overtook Zai was the one Khanh was riding as he swept the jewels into the bag and felt the fabric strain under the weight. Though the greatest prize was the Queen of Egypt, Khanh wouldn’t have dreamed of touching her. Though he’d taken out the guards around the room, her body guards were surrounding her and he felt that the entire room of people would jump to the queen’s defense. It would be stupid to try. The idea was to live to pawn these gems; not die before they saw daylight.
All at once, the center of the room blazed to life and Khanh saw a fierce looking woman practically daring them all to do something about it. Light was their enemy right now, added to the fact that they could all die from the smoke if the fire caught the table cloths. He nearly tripped over a small, slim girl who darted in front of him towards the fire. Without a thought, Khanh knocked Nenet back, sending her sprawling and squared up with the older woman, intending to put that fire out. Zai appeared at his elbow, apparently the one determined to encounter the older woman, except that Iaheru struck first. Her ring caught his cheek, drawing a fine line of blood that seeped down his face.
Rage overtook Khanh in an instant and his arm shot out, grabbing a fist full of her clothes and drawing her away from Zai, throwing Iaheru to the ground without consideration for her age. “Idiot woman,” he muttered, glancing at Zai’s face to make sure the ring hadn’t caught the boy’s eye. Satisfied it had not, Khanh quickly went after the man with the torch, Khopesh brandished, intending to cut the man down before more torches could be re-lit. That would not happen.
Khanh was not alone in his efforts.
Having stuffed as many of the jewels and fine raiment that he could easily snatch into his sack of goodies, Akhmad was quick to swing and fasten the bag to his frame. The sack - with fastenings at either end - was slung diagonal across his back before the strings were secured over his chest. Now, all four of his limbs - equally deadly in their own - were free to do with as he wished.
And what he wished was to aid his friend and comrade.
Rather than charge into the middle of the group, adding another set of hands and another body into the mass of hysteria that had started to bloom in the centre of the hall, Akhmad turned to the outskirts. Where a singular guard, lost from his formation went reaching for a torch that he might reignite, Akhmad was on him like a panther upon pray and was quick in using the base of his palm, shooting out like a cobra strike upon his temple to render him unconscious. The nobles that drifted away and tried to slip out of the hall, he allowed to go. And when Zai was knocked backwards, a red line of blood upon his cheekbones, Akhmad was there to reach out, grab his collar, and draw him out of the way of their brother Khanh as he came in with a swooping strength and power.
Knowing that it was a bad move to damage a lady who appeared to hold that much money, yet knowing also that any attempts to stop Khanh would be an equally bad move, Akhmad simply dragged Zai out of the mess, avoiding the guards and nobles who might have spotted them slinking in the dark. With a tug at Zai's tunic, he had the boy back on his feet properly and was then quick to jab a thumb at the shuttered windows to his left.
For he had left one pair unlocked as a means of easy escape over the rooftops.
Removing a few daggers from where they were hidden about his person, Akhmad smacked the two blades together in a keening, whistling spark of noise. It would be recognised by the others of the Sariqas as the ghost's only means of drawing attention via sound. With a nudge of his head backwards, he indicated the shuttered window. A window they would only open when ready to leap through it, blinding the pursuers who might attempt to follow behind... Provided Khanh could put out that light...
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Khanh was not alone in his efforts.
Having stuffed as many of the jewels and fine raiment that he could easily snatch into his sack of goodies, Akhmad was quick to swing and fasten the bag to his frame. The sack - with fastenings at either end - was slung diagonal across his back before the strings were secured over his chest. Now, all four of his limbs - equally deadly in their own - were free to do with as he wished.
And what he wished was to aid his friend and comrade.
Rather than charge into the middle of the group, adding another set of hands and another body into the mass of hysteria that had started to bloom in the centre of the hall, Akhmad turned to the outskirts. Where a singular guard, lost from his formation went reaching for a torch that he might reignite, Akhmad was on him like a panther upon pray and was quick in using the base of his palm, shooting out like a cobra strike upon his temple to render him unconscious. The nobles that drifted away and tried to slip out of the hall, he allowed to go. And when Zai was knocked backwards, a red line of blood upon his cheekbones, Akhmad was there to reach out, grab his collar, and draw him out of the way of their brother Khanh as he came in with a swooping strength and power.
Knowing that it was a bad move to damage a lady who appeared to hold that much money, yet knowing also that any attempts to stop Khanh would be an equally bad move, Akhmad simply dragged Zai out of the mess, avoiding the guards and nobles who might have spotted them slinking in the dark. With a tug at Zai's tunic, he had the boy back on his feet properly and was then quick to jab a thumb at the shuttered windows to his left.
For he had left one pair unlocked as a means of easy escape over the rooftops.
Removing a few daggers from where they were hidden about his person, Akhmad smacked the two blades together in a keening, whistling spark of noise. It would be recognised by the others of the Sariqas as the ghost's only means of drawing attention via sound. With a nudge of his head backwards, he indicated the shuttered window. A window they would only open when ready to leap through it, blinding the pursuers who might attempt to follow behind... Provided Khanh could put out that light...
Khanh was not alone in his efforts.
Having stuffed as many of the jewels and fine raiment that he could easily snatch into his sack of goodies, Akhmad was quick to swing and fasten the bag to his frame. The sack - with fastenings at either end - was slung diagonal across his back before the strings were secured over his chest. Now, all four of his limbs - equally deadly in their own - were free to do with as he wished.
And what he wished was to aid his friend and comrade.
Rather than charge into the middle of the group, adding another set of hands and another body into the mass of hysteria that had started to bloom in the centre of the hall, Akhmad turned to the outskirts. Where a singular guard, lost from his formation went reaching for a torch that he might reignite, Akhmad was on him like a panther upon pray and was quick in using the base of his palm, shooting out like a cobra strike upon his temple to render him unconscious. The nobles that drifted away and tried to slip out of the hall, he allowed to go. And when Zai was knocked backwards, a red line of blood upon his cheekbones, Akhmad was there to reach out, grab his collar, and draw him out of the way of their brother Khanh as he came in with a swooping strength and power.
Knowing that it was a bad move to damage a lady who appeared to hold that much money, yet knowing also that any attempts to stop Khanh would be an equally bad move, Akhmad simply dragged Zai out of the mess, avoiding the guards and nobles who might have spotted them slinking in the dark. With a tug at Zai's tunic, he had the boy back on his feet properly and was then quick to jab a thumb at the shuttered windows to his left.
For he had left one pair unlocked as a means of easy escape over the rooftops.
Removing a few daggers from where they were hidden about his person, Akhmad smacked the two blades together in a keening, whistling spark of noise. It would be recognised by the others of the Sariqas as the ghost's only means of drawing attention via sound. With a nudge of his head backwards, he indicated the shuttered window. A window they would only open when ready to leap through it, blinding the pursuers who might attempt to follow behind... Provided Khanh could put out that light...
“Nenet!” Hena hissed into the dark as his sister took off towards their mother. Well, he had tried to get her out as well, it wasn’t his fault if she was going to go chasing after their mother instead of seeing herself to safety. Hena wasn’t about to risk himself for either of them, and Nia was already safely out into the hallway and hopefully well on her way out of the building and going to get help for those that remained inside. Nenet was being an idiot, he couldn’t help everyone out of this window, they needed to go and get help.
And then he heard his sister cry out and turned in time to watch his mother be thrown to the ground and something within Hena snapped, something that he didn’t even know he had. A protective side, a side that cared that his mother had just been tossed to the floor and possibly hurt. He knew he couldn’t take on these thieves, he was no fighter, but he was smart, and he would try to use that to his advantage, and hope like hell his plan would work. He looked at the bookshelf, his only escape and in a move that surprised even him, he shoved it away from the wall, and it toppled over onto it’s front. In a quick motion he ripped a part of his clothing off and lit it on fire with the fire that already blazed, using it to light the bookshelf on fire. As it caught, the room began to get brighter.
His intention was to either scare the thieves off with the threat of being seen in the light, or have the remaining guards be able to see and kill them. Either way they would be out of their way.
He quickly moved from where the wooden bookshelf now blazed, and to his sisters side, hauling Nenet up to her feet, he moved to their mother instead, helping her up as well. He should have just climbed the shelf and left the room, followed Nia and made sure he was safe. This was very unlike Hena, and he had no idea what had come over him. But this was the biggest thrill he had gotten in his life, his heart racing and blood pumping, it was a better high than he had ever experienced.
Thinking quickly he grabbed a sword from a fallen guard, and backed his mother and sister into a corner behind him. He was not a fighter, but he had burned their only escape in an attempt to light the room with a fire that would not be easily put out. His hope had been the thieves would care more about keeping their identity a secret than they would killing anyone in this room. If they slaughtered a bunch of nobles and the Queen, the whole of Egypt would not rest until they were found and executed, and he hoped that they understood such and would simply take their leave with the hefty amount of gold and jewels they had already procured.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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“Nenet!” Hena hissed into the dark as his sister took off towards their mother. Well, he had tried to get her out as well, it wasn’t his fault if she was going to go chasing after their mother instead of seeing herself to safety. Hena wasn’t about to risk himself for either of them, and Nia was already safely out into the hallway and hopefully well on her way out of the building and going to get help for those that remained inside. Nenet was being an idiot, he couldn’t help everyone out of this window, they needed to go and get help.
And then he heard his sister cry out and turned in time to watch his mother be thrown to the ground and something within Hena snapped, something that he didn’t even know he had. A protective side, a side that cared that his mother had just been tossed to the floor and possibly hurt. He knew he couldn’t take on these thieves, he was no fighter, but he was smart, and he would try to use that to his advantage, and hope like hell his plan would work. He looked at the bookshelf, his only escape and in a move that surprised even him, he shoved it away from the wall, and it toppled over onto it’s front. In a quick motion he ripped a part of his clothing off and lit it on fire with the fire that already blazed, using it to light the bookshelf on fire. As it caught, the room began to get brighter.
His intention was to either scare the thieves off with the threat of being seen in the light, or have the remaining guards be able to see and kill them. Either way they would be out of their way.
He quickly moved from where the wooden bookshelf now blazed, and to his sisters side, hauling Nenet up to her feet, he moved to their mother instead, helping her up as well. He should have just climbed the shelf and left the room, followed Nia and made sure he was safe. This was very unlike Hena, and he had no idea what had come over him. But this was the biggest thrill he had gotten in his life, his heart racing and blood pumping, it was a better high than he had ever experienced.
Thinking quickly he grabbed a sword from a fallen guard, and backed his mother and sister into a corner behind him. He was not a fighter, but he had burned their only escape in an attempt to light the room with a fire that would not be easily put out. His hope had been the thieves would care more about keeping their identity a secret than they would killing anyone in this room. If they slaughtered a bunch of nobles and the Queen, the whole of Egypt would not rest until they were found and executed, and he hoped that they understood such and would simply take their leave with the hefty amount of gold and jewels they had already procured.
“Nenet!” Hena hissed into the dark as his sister took off towards their mother. Well, he had tried to get her out as well, it wasn’t his fault if she was going to go chasing after their mother instead of seeing herself to safety. Hena wasn’t about to risk himself for either of them, and Nia was already safely out into the hallway and hopefully well on her way out of the building and going to get help for those that remained inside. Nenet was being an idiot, he couldn’t help everyone out of this window, they needed to go and get help.
And then he heard his sister cry out and turned in time to watch his mother be thrown to the ground and something within Hena snapped, something that he didn’t even know he had. A protective side, a side that cared that his mother had just been tossed to the floor and possibly hurt. He knew he couldn’t take on these thieves, he was no fighter, but he was smart, and he would try to use that to his advantage, and hope like hell his plan would work. He looked at the bookshelf, his only escape and in a move that surprised even him, he shoved it away from the wall, and it toppled over onto it’s front. In a quick motion he ripped a part of his clothing off and lit it on fire with the fire that already blazed, using it to light the bookshelf on fire. As it caught, the room began to get brighter.
His intention was to either scare the thieves off with the threat of being seen in the light, or have the remaining guards be able to see and kill them. Either way they would be out of their way.
He quickly moved from where the wooden bookshelf now blazed, and to his sisters side, hauling Nenet up to her feet, he moved to their mother instead, helping her up as well. He should have just climbed the shelf and left the room, followed Nia and made sure he was safe. This was very unlike Hena, and he had no idea what had come over him. But this was the biggest thrill he had gotten in his life, his heart racing and blood pumping, it was a better high than he had ever experienced.
Thinking quickly he grabbed a sword from a fallen guard, and backed his mother and sister into a corner behind him. He was not a fighter, but he had burned their only escape in an attempt to light the room with a fire that would not be easily put out. His hope had been the thieves would care more about keeping their identity a secret than they would killing anyone in this room. If they slaughtered a bunch of nobles and the Queen, the whole of Egypt would not rest until they were found and executed, and he hoped that they understood such and would simply take their leave with the hefty amount of gold and jewels they had already procured.
Yes, there was light now, becoming brighter by the second. Yet the saraaya itself was not in flames. Somebody must have started a small fire with some wood or a piece of cloth so that the nobles would not be completely at mercy of the thieves. With any luck, they would be spotted and caught before they got away with the jewels. Who had come up with that brilliant idea, the young Queen wondered? If everyone got out safely, she would find out and reward that person handsomely for saving not only her own life but those of the members of her court.
Despite the flickering glow, Hatshepsut could see very little between her guards’ armor. Not even Sirdar H'Haikaddad’s sandals were visible, nor did she hear his footsteps over the stride of her protectors. She moved along with them, staying in the middle of the square they had constructed around her. All she could do was pray that her guide knew the way out and their progress would not be impeded by the criminals.
She could still hear screams of terror. Hopefully, nobody would be killed. The loss of jewelry was much preferable to the loss of life and most of the guests were wealthy enough to part with a few baubles. She prayed that no one would provoke the robbers into further violence, and that everyone would find a way out of the saraaya or a hiding place to conceal themselves until the thieves either fled or were apprehended. If only she could have had a note sent to the palace to send soldiers to their aid.
Sirdar H’Haikaddad’s voice carried over the chaos in the room. Apparently the exit was in sight but he was not going to leave with her. “Can you see the door?” she asked the guard directly in front of her. He was leading, which meant he was in charge.
“Yes, Your Evening Radiance.”
“Stay safe, Sirdar,” she told Narmer. Instead of saving himself, he was risking his life to save others. “And know that the gods will be with you.”
A few minutes later, she heard a door being opened and then felt a warm breeze upon her face. The royal guards surrounded her until she reached her sedan chair. “Only two of you need to accompany me,” she said, as she settled herself inside. “The rest of you must go back and help catch the thieves.”
The leader, keeping his eyes averted, shook his head. “The Pharaoh ordered us to stay with you at all times, Your Majesty. We dare not disobey him.”
Hatshepsut sighed as her chair was lifted up by its bearers. She knew better than to argue. The guards would be executed if they went against Iahotep’s command. As she was carried home, she prayed that the thieves would be caught and that the nobles would not be harmed. It was the best that she could do for them, and prayer was a more powerful weapon than the sharpest sword, especially when wielded by the chosen representative of the gods.
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Yes, there was light now, becoming brighter by the second. Yet the saraaya itself was not in flames. Somebody must have started a small fire with some wood or a piece of cloth so that the nobles would not be completely at mercy of the thieves. With any luck, they would be spotted and caught before they got away with the jewels. Who had come up with that brilliant idea, the young Queen wondered? If everyone got out safely, she would find out and reward that person handsomely for saving not only her own life but those of the members of her court.
Despite the flickering glow, Hatshepsut could see very little between her guards’ armor. Not even Sirdar H'Haikaddad’s sandals were visible, nor did she hear his footsteps over the stride of her protectors. She moved along with them, staying in the middle of the square they had constructed around her. All she could do was pray that her guide knew the way out and their progress would not be impeded by the criminals.
She could still hear screams of terror. Hopefully, nobody would be killed. The loss of jewelry was much preferable to the loss of life and most of the guests were wealthy enough to part with a few baubles. She prayed that no one would provoke the robbers into further violence, and that everyone would find a way out of the saraaya or a hiding place to conceal themselves until the thieves either fled or were apprehended. If only she could have had a note sent to the palace to send soldiers to their aid.
Sirdar H’Haikaddad’s voice carried over the chaos in the room. Apparently the exit was in sight but he was not going to leave with her. “Can you see the door?” she asked the guard directly in front of her. He was leading, which meant he was in charge.
“Yes, Your Evening Radiance.”
“Stay safe, Sirdar,” she told Narmer. Instead of saving himself, he was risking his life to save others. “And know that the gods will be with you.”
A few minutes later, she heard a door being opened and then felt a warm breeze upon her face. The royal guards surrounded her until she reached her sedan chair. “Only two of you need to accompany me,” she said, as she settled herself inside. “The rest of you must go back and help catch the thieves.”
The leader, keeping his eyes averted, shook his head. “The Pharaoh ordered us to stay with you at all times, Your Majesty. We dare not disobey him.”
Hatshepsut sighed as her chair was lifted up by its bearers. She knew better than to argue. The guards would be executed if they went against Iahotep’s command. As she was carried home, she prayed that the thieves would be caught and that the nobles would not be harmed. It was the best that she could do for them, and prayer was a more powerful weapon than the sharpest sword, especially when wielded by the chosen representative of the gods.
Yes, there was light now, becoming brighter by the second. Yet the saraaya itself was not in flames. Somebody must have started a small fire with some wood or a piece of cloth so that the nobles would not be completely at mercy of the thieves. With any luck, they would be spotted and caught before they got away with the jewels. Who had come up with that brilliant idea, the young Queen wondered? If everyone got out safely, she would find out and reward that person handsomely for saving not only her own life but those of the members of her court.
Despite the flickering glow, Hatshepsut could see very little between her guards’ armor. Not even Sirdar H'Haikaddad’s sandals were visible, nor did she hear his footsteps over the stride of her protectors. She moved along with them, staying in the middle of the square they had constructed around her. All she could do was pray that her guide knew the way out and their progress would not be impeded by the criminals.
She could still hear screams of terror. Hopefully, nobody would be killed. The loss of jewelry was much preferable to the loss of life and most of the guests were wealthy enough to part with a few baubles. She prayed that no one would provoke the robbers into further violence, and that everyone would find a way out of the saraaya or a hiding place to conceal themselves until the thieves either fled or were apprehended. If only she could have had a note sent to the palace to send soldiers to their aid.
Sirdar H’Haikaddad’s voice carried over the chaos in the room. Apparently the exit was in sight but he was not going to leave with her. “Can you see the door?” she asked the guard directly in front of her. He was leading, which meant he was in charge.
“Yes, Your Evening Radiance.”
“Stay safe, Sirdar,” she told Narmer. Instead of saving himself, he was risking his life to save others. “And know that the gods will be with you.”
A few minutes later, she heard a door being opened and then felt a warm breeze upon her face. The royal guards surrounded her until she reached her sedan chair. “Only two of you need to accompany me,” she said, as she settled herself inside. “The rest of you must go back and help catch the thieves.”
The leader, keeping his eyes averted, shook his head. “The Pharaoh ordered us to stay with you at all times, Your Majesty. We dare not disobey him.”
Hatshepsut sighed as her chair was lifted up by its bearers. She knew better than to argue. The guards would be executed if they went against Iahotep’s command. As she was carried home, she prayed that the thieves would be caught and that the nobles would not be harmed. It was the best that she could do for them, and prayer was a more powerful weapon than the sharpest sword, especially when wielded by the chosen representative of the gods.
Having missed much of the action as he escorted the Queen out, Narmer breathed a sigh of relief when young Hatshepsut's guard's appeared smart enough to locate the door as soon as Narmer led them to it. Silently, he merely nodded (even if she probably could not see such a movement), but watched their backs as the guard opened the door. Only once the Queen left, and Narmer ensured the sedan chair would leave with no pursuers, did Narmer make his way back towards where a bulk of the movement was.
Now how did he see his way through?
The worst part about this whole debacle was the fact that even after they had gone, it was unlikely for them to find out the culprits behind such thievery, and that rankled at Narmer, the ease of which the thieves would get away. As the man looked around for light however, it surprised him when he saw a flicker of a fire, a fire that grew the moment he turned to look, seemingly with a life of it's own.
Someone set the bookcase on fire?
What in actual Ptah's name was Akhenaten trying to do? He's seen the young Sirdar having some wild idea's, and have even caught the young and new heir to the H'Sheifa Haikaddad in a few unsavory times, but he never thought to set fire to his own house! Sure, it did the job quick, but did they have enough reinforces to stop it from growing to uncontrollable heights. The dry and arid enviroment that they lived in meant many things would catch fire quickly, and a blaze was the last thing they needed to deal with at this point.
"I suggest you all leave with what you have!" Narmer yelled the moment the fire began growing to a heights where he could catch sight of the shadowed figures. He was too far to see their faces, but the least he could do was at least try to find a way to end this, right? If the fire remained in the room, it could still be contained, but the Gods forbid it catch on to the carpet leading out to the rest of the houses - the whole H'Sheifa manor would be ablaze in a matter of minutes. "You have gotten your spoils. Leave, or we all get burned to crisp!" he roared over the crackling of the fire growing louder.
Where in deuced hell was his nephew?
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Having missed much of the action as he escorted the Queen out, Narmer breathed a sigh of relief when young Hatshepsut's guard's appeared smart enough to locate the door as soon as Narmer led them to it. Silently, he merely nodded (even if she probably could not see such a movement), but watched their backs as the guard opened the door. Only once the Queen left, and Narmer ensured the sedan chair would leave with no pursuers, did Narmer make his way back towards where a bulk of the movement was.
Now how did he see his way through?
The worst part about this whole debacle was the fact that even after they had gone, it was unlikely for them to find out the culprits behind such thievery, and that rankled at Narmer, the ease of which the thieves would get away. As the man looked around for light however, it surprised him when he saw a flicker of a fire, a fire that grew the moment he turned to look, seemingly with a life of it's own.
Someone set the bookcase on fire?
What in actual Ptah's name was Akhenaten trying to do? He's seen the young Sirdar having some wild idea's, and have even caught the young and new heir to the H'Sheifa Haikaddad in a few unsavory times, but he never thought to set fire to his own house! Sure, it did the job quick, but did they have enough reinforces to stop it from growing to uncontrollable heights. The dry and arid enviroment that they lived in meant many things would catch fire quickly, and a blaze was the last thing they needed to deal with at this point.
"I suggest you all leave with what you have!" Narmer yelled the moment the fire began growing to a heights where he could catch sight of the shadowed figures. He was too far to see their faces, but the least he could do was at least try to find a way to end this, right? If the fire remained in the room, it could still be contained, but the Gods forbid it catch on to the carpet leading out to the rest of the houses - the whole H'Sheifa manor would be ablaze in a matter of minutes. "You have gotten your spoils. Leave, or we all get burned to crisp!" he roared over the crackling of the fire growing louder.
Where in deuced hell was his nephew?
Having missed much of the action as he escorted the Queen out, Narmer breathed a sigh of relief when young Hatshepsut's guard's appeared smart enough to locate the door as soon as Narmer led them to it. Silently, he merely nodded (even if she probably could not see such a movement), but watched their backs as the guard opened the door. Only once the Queen left, and Narmer ensured the sedan chair would leave with no pursuers, did Narmer make his way back towards where a bulk of the movement was.
Now how did he see his way through?
The worst part about this whole debacle was the fact that even after they had gone, it was unlikely for them to find out the culprits behind such thievery, and that rankled at Narmer, the ease of which the thieves would get away. As the man looked around for light however, it surprised him when he saw a flicker of a fire, a fire that grew the moment he turned to look, seemingly with a life of it's own.
Someone set the bookcase on fire?
What in actual Ptah's name was Akhenaten trying to do? He's seen the young Sirdar having some wild idea's, and have even caught the young and new heir to the H'Sheifa Haikaddad in a few unsavory times, but he never thought to set fire to his own house! Sure, it did the job quick, but did they have enough reinforces to stop it from growing to uncontrollable heights. The dry and arid enviroment that they lived in meant many things would catch fire quickly, and a blaze was the last thing they needed to deal with at this point.
"I suggest you all leave with what you have!" Narmer yelled the moment the fire began growing to a heights where he could catch sight of the shadowed figures. He was too far to see their faces, but the least he could do was at least try to find a way to end this, right? If the fire remained in the room, it could still be contained, but the Gods forbid it catch on to the carpet leading out to the rest of the houses - the whole H'Sheifa manor would be ablaze in a matter of minutes. "You have gotten your spoils. Leave, or we all get burned to crisp!" he roared over the crackling of the fire growing louder.
Where in deuced hell was his nephew?
In her fury, Iaheru didn't feel her hips hit the ground, her own jewels scattering the floor and her body sure to feel the trauma in the morning. A hot bath was in order and her eyes scanned for her husband. He and Nefertari were likely tending to the guests as the remaining Sheifa clan fell victim to intense vices. Nenet fell to her side and Iaheru jolted to catch her most fragile, rising to her knees to soothe Nenet.
Fire licked the cool, flat stones of the interior building. Iaheru had tossed aside her cloak to a far corner to allow it to burn out, but not everyone, especially such distinguished guests, had a temper that rivaled hers and understood her caution. Perhaps it was a feature of common blood, but Iaheru had spent years culling her wrath to a facade of stoicism, if not delight. "Nenet," She hushes, pulling the girl into her chest. She willed herself to remain planted on the floor, the room illuminated with the demise of their social stature and the personal slight dealt to her and her daughter by some lesser criminal. She had to be here for Nenet despite all other inclinations. How she wished she had scratched out eyes and destroyed faces kept under heavy wraps.
In the corner, her bookshelf catches fire, knowledge on paper springing alive as paged morphed into kindling. A wooden marvel from the far east easily replaced in Iaheru's sentiments. Or maybe not now, given the amount of jewels swiped. Iaheru smirks inappropriately. Her young son cemented his reputation as a notorious hothead. They were alike in many ways they'd never admit with their pointed tongues. "Akhenaten," she rises to her feet and briefly embraces his brightened flame. "You've done well," her eyes trail to the smoke pluming from the corner, her hand resting on a adrenaline flexed shoulder. Her eyes trained to the nobles flooding the door, the guards expediting their escape as the internal room of the historical Sheifa saraaya brightened with an orange homeliness that mimicked the sands outside. "We're going to be fine," Iaheru reassures, wide eyes peering beyond Akhenaten's shoulders.
The guards shuffled in, unfazed by their commitment but dancing about the fires. Iaheru could not fault them. The loyal regiments swiped tables of jewels and toted carpets away from the fires currently burning. Iaheru scoffed at the panicked Sirdsetts and the men claiming to be warriors- so what? It was a fire. In a stone compound that had stood for centuries against wars, famines, and thefts. Her eyes located Nefertaari and Onuphrious leading up the back of the crowd and Iaheru knew that Neithotep was in the corridor beyond. "We've done all that we can do, the guards will take care of the rest," her teeth grind, her nostrils tickle with smoke as the cloak extinguished and the room emptied of nobles.
"Thank you, Akhenaten," she smiled, leading the way for her children towards the door, stooping over to collect a foot carpet along the way. The soreness had settled into her muscles.
The Sheifa saraaya was not in danger of burning down, at least, not completely. If it did, they'd buy another. She didn't care for the Thebes home anyways. The only wound Iaheru suffered was that of reputation, and how little she told herself she cared for the opinions of men and women that would so quickly delve into panic reserved for helpless children. IF anything, she was proud of her children, though impulsive, they could hold their own rather than entertain fear.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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In her fury, Iaheru didn't feel her hips hit the ground, her own jewels scattering the floor and her body sure to feel the trauma in the morning. A hot bath was in order and her eyes scanned for her husband. He and Nefertari were likely tending to the guests as the remaining Sheifa clan fell victim to intense vices. Nenet fell to her side and Iaheru jolted to catch her most fragile, rising to her knees to soothe Nenet.
Fire licked the cool, flat stones of the interior building. Iaheru had tossed aside her cloak to a far corner to allow it to burn out, but not everyone, especially such distinguished guests, had a temper that rivaled hers and understood her caution. Perhaps it was a feature of common blood, but Iaheru had spent years culling her wrath to a facade of stoicism, if not delight. "Nenet," She hushes, pulling the girl into her chest. She willed herself to remain planted on the floor, the room illuminated with the demise of their social stature and the personal slight dealt to her and her daughter by some lesser criminal. She had to be here for Nenet despite all other inclinations. How she wished she had scratched out eyes and destroyed faces kept under heavy wraps.
In the corner, her bookshelf catches fire, knowledge on paper springing alive as paged morphed into kindling. A wooden marvel from the far east easily replaced in Iaheru's sentiments. Or maybe not now, given the amount of jewels swiped. Iaheru smirks inappropriately. Her young son cemented his reputation as a notorious hothead. They were alike in many ways they'd never admit with their pointed tongues. "Akhenaten," she rises to her feet and briefly embraces his brightened flame. "You've done well," her eyes trail to the smoke pluming from the corner, her hand resting on a adrenaline flexed shoulder. Her eyes trained to the nobles flooding the door, the guards expediting their escape as the internal room of the historical Sheifa saraaya brightened with an orange homeliness that mimicked the sands outside. "We're going to be fine," Iaheru reassures, wide eyes peering beyond Akhenaten's shoulders.
The guards shuffled in, unfazed by their commitment but dancing about the fires. Iaheru could not fault them. The loyal regiments swiped tables of jewels and toted carpets away from the fires currently burning. Iaheru scoffed at the panicked Sirdsetts and the men claiming to be warriors- so what? It was a fire. In a stone compound that had stood for centuries against wars, famines, and thefts. Her eyes located Nefertaari and Onuphrious leading up the back of the crowd and Iaheru knew that Neithotep was in the corridor beyond. "We've done all that we can do, the guards will take care of the rest," her teeth grind, her nostrils tickle with smoke as the cloak extinguished and the room emptied of nobles.
"Thank you, Akhenaten," she smiled, leading the way for her children towards the door, stooping over to collect a foot carpet along the way. The soreness had settled into her muscles.
The Sheifa saraaya was not in danger of burning down, at least, not completely. If it did, they'd buy another. She didn't care for the Thebes home anyways. The only wound Iaheru suffered was that of reputation, and how little she told herself she cared for the opinions of men and women that would so quickly delve into panic reserved for helpless children. IF anything, she was proud of her children, though impulsive, they could hold their own rather than entertain fear.
In her fury, Iaheru didn't feel her hips hit the ground, her own jewels scattering the floor and her body sure to feel the trauma in the morning. A hot bath was in order and her eyes scanned for her husband. He and Nefertari were likely tending to the guests as the remaining Sheifa clan fell victim to intense vices. Nenet fell to her side and Iaheru jolted to catch her most fragile, rising to her knees to soothe Nenet.
Fire licked the cool, flat stones of the interior building. Iaheru had tossed aside her cloak to a far corner to allow it to burn out, but not everyone, especially such distinguished guests, had a temper that rivaled hers and understood her caution. Perhaps it was a feature of common blood, but Iaheru had spent years culling her wrath to a facade of stoicism, if not delight. "Nenet," She hushes, pulling the girl into her chest. She willed herself to remain planted on the floor, the room illuminated with the demise of their social stature and the personal slight dealt to her and her daughter by some lesser criminal. She had to be here for Nenet despite all other inclinations. How she wished she had scratched out eyes and destroyed faces kept under heavy wraps.
In the corner, her bookshelf catches fire, knowledge on paper springing alive as paged morphed into kindling. A wooden marvel from the far east easily replaced in Iaheru's sentiments. Or maybe not now, given the amount of jewels swiped. Iaheru smirks inappropriately. Her young son cemented his reputation as a notorious hothead. They were alike in many ways they'd never admit with their pointed tongues. "Akhenaten," she rises to her feet and briefly embraces his brightened flame. "You've done well," her eyes trail to the smoke pluming from the corner, her hand resting on a adrenaline flexed shoulder. Her eyes trained to the nobles flooding the door, the guards expediting their escape as the internal room of the historical Sheifa saraaya brightened with an orange homeliness that mimicked the sands outside. "We're going to be fine," Iaheru reassures, wide eyes peering beyond Akhenaten's shoulders.
The guards shuffled in, unfazed by their commitment but dancing about the fires. Iaheru could not fault them. The loyal regiments swiped tables of jewels and toted carpets away from the fires currently burning. Iaheru scoffed at the panicked Sirdsetts and the men claiming to be warriors- so what? It was a fire. In a stone compound that had stood for centuries against wars, famines, and thefts. Her eyes located Nefertaari and Onuphrious leading up the back of the crowd and Iaheru knew that Neithotep was in the corridor beyond. "We've done all that we can do, the guards will take care of the rest," her teeth grind, her nostrils tickle with smoke as the cloak extinguished and the room emptied of nobles.
"Thank you, Akhenaten," she smiled, leading the way for her children towards the door, stooping over to collect a foot carpet along the way. The soreness had settled into her muscles.
The Sheifa saraaya was not in danger of burning down, at least, not completely. If it did, they'd buy another. She didn't care for the Thebes home anyways. The only wound Iaheru suffered was that of reputation, and how little she told herself she cared for the opinions of men and women that would so quickly delve into panic reserved for helpless children. IF anything, she was proud of her children, though impulsive, they could hold their own rather than entertain fear.
The world had been enveloped in darkness not once but twice in rather quick succession. Kissan would remember later seeing a very pretty if plain Egyptian girl by the tables and catching her eye briefly before the world the sounds of doors closing and locking and the lights went out. Completely unfamiliar with his surroundings, Kissan tried to find cover but instead only succeeded in colliding with a crossbeam that leapt from the darkness.
He awoke shortly later to find fire working its way around the room and feet scrambling over his body in the darkness. Smoke filled the air and within moments his lungs cried out against it and he began coughing. "Uncle!?" he called out, his eyes watering in the smoke. His eyes widened as he looked around, or tried. The smoke stung at his eyes and he closed them quickly and tried to wipe them. His sisters! Had they come this evening? No, no they were at home. At least he was pretty sure they were.
"Narmer!" he called out again, straining to see into the darkness. His eyes looked pleadingly around for an escape but the darkness shrouded anything outside of the flames licking their way around the room.
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The world had been enveloped in darkness not once but twice in rather quick succession. Kissan would remember later seeing a very pretty if plain Egyptian girl by the tables and catching her eye briefly before the world the sounds of doors closing and locking and the lights went out. Completely unfamiliar with his surroundings, Kissan tried to find cover but instead only succeeded in colliding with a crossbeam that leapt from the darkness.
He awoke shortly later to find fire working its way around the room and feet scrambling over his body in the darkness. Smoke filled the air and within moments his lungs cried out against it and he began coughing. "Uncle!?" he called out, his eyes watering in the smoke. His eyes widened as he looked around, or tried. The smoke stung at his eyes and he closed them quickly and tried to wipe them. His sisters! Had they come this evening? No, no they were at home. At least he was pretty sure they were.
"Narmer!" he called out again, straining to see into the darkness. His eyes looked pleadingly around for an escape but the darkness shrouded anything outside of the flames licking their way around the room.
The world had been enveloped in darkness not once but twice in rather quick succession. Kissan would remember later seeing a very pretty if plain Egyptian girl by the tables and catching her eye briefly before the world the sounds of doors closing and locking and the lights went out. Completely unfamiliar with his surroundings, Kissan tried to find cover but instead only succeeded in colliding with a crossbeam that leapt from the darkness.
He awoke shortly later to find fire working its way around the room and feet scrambling over his body in the darkness. Smoke filled the air and within moments his lungs cried out against it and he began coughing. "Uncle!?" he called out, his eyes watering in the smoke. His eyes widened as he looked around, or tried. The smoke stung at his eyes and he closed them quickly and tried to wipe them. His sisters! Had they come this evening? No, no they were at home. At least he was pretty sure they were.
"Narmer!" he called out again, straining to see into the darkness. His eyes looked pleadingly around for an escape but the darkness shrouded anything outside of the flames licking their way around the room.
Whether it was because of his size and the way the shadows crawled over his body, firelight rippling across his frame to lend him an even more fearsome appearance, or because there was literally a fire that was more dangerous, no one actually attacked him. Nor was Khanh interested in following the wall of guards who were escorting the young queen out of the room. Despite having killed a few guards where it was necessary, and having thrown two women on the floor, Khanh wasn’t after a fight just for the sake of violence. As soon as he’d heard Akhmad’s metallic clangs summoning his attention, Khanh literally leaped out of the way, leaving Akhenaten to collect his mother and sister.
Khanh scooped up an unlit table cloth, using that as a bag for all of the jewels still left on its surface, ripped the golden collar off the man nearest to him, and zipped after Akhmad and Zai to the nearest exit. Zai had regained his sense by then, thank the gods and was shimmying up and out of the now open window. Khanh waited for Akhmad to slither through and then reached for the lip of the windowsill, hauled himself up, and actually chuckled as he landed catlike on the ground below. There was no time to waste and he immediately began sprinting across the intervening ground towards the wall of the compound. There was no one around except for the most ancient looking old woman who was sweeping the same stretch of limestone pathway over and over so that it was the only clean area in the sandy yard.
With a running leap, Khanh managed to grip the top of the wall and again haul himself up to drop down to the other side. After that, it was up to the three of them to get lost in the maze of the city, which was easily done. Except...Khanh had to stop by a scribe. “Here,” he said to Zai, shoving his makeshift pack into the boy’s arms. “I’ll be back. I have an errand.” He broke off from the other two, removing his mask as he did so and stuffing it into the folds of his kilt so that now he just looked like any ordinary person. A little letter needed to be sent and he trusted the other two to get to their basecamp with little enough trouble.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Whether it was because of his size and the way the shadows crawled over his body, firelight rippling across his frame to lend him an even more fearsome appearance, or because there was literally a fire that was more dangerous, no one actually attacked him. Nor was Khanh interested in following the wall of guards who were escorting the young queen out of the room. Despite having killed a few guards where it was necessary, and having thrown two women on the floor, Khanh wasn’t after a fight just for the sake of violence. As soon as he’d heard Akhmad’s metallic clangs summoning his attention, Khanh literally leaped out of the way, leaving Akhenaten to collect his mother and sister.
Khanh scooped up an unlit table cloth, using that as a bag for all of the jewels still left on its surface, ripped the golden collar off the man nearest to him, and zipped after Akhmad and Zai to the nearest exit. Zai had regained his sense by then, thank the gods and was shimmying up and out of the now open window. Khanh waited for Akhmad to slither through and then reached for the lip of the windowsill, hauled himself up, and actually chuckled as he landed catlike on the ground below. There was no time to waste and he immediately began sprinting across the intervening ground towards the wall of the compound. There was no one around except for the most ancient looking old woman who was sweeping the same stretch of limestone pathway over and over so that it was the only clean area in the sandy yard.
With a running leap, Khanh managed to grip the top of the wall and again haul himself up to drop down to the other side. After that, it was up to the three of them to get lost in the maze of the city, which was easily done. Except...Khanh had to stop by a scribe. “Here,” he said to Zai, shoving his makeshift pack into the boy’s arms. “I’ll be back. I have an errand.” He broke off from the other two, removing his mask as he did so and stuffing it into the folds of his kilt so that now he just looked like any ordinary person. A little letter needed to be sent and he trusted the other two to get to their basecamp with little enough trouble.
Whether it was because of his size and the way the shadows crawled over his body, firelight rippling across his frame to lend him an even more fearsome appearance, or because there was literally a fire that was more dangerous, no one actually attacked him. Nor was Khanh interested in following the wall of guards who were escorting the young queen out of the room. Despite having killed a few guards where it was necessary, and having thrown two women on the floor, Khanh wasn’t after a fight just for the sake of violence. As soon as he’d heard Akhmad’s metallic clangs summoning his attention, Khanh literally leaped out of the way, leaving Akhenaten to collect his mother and sister.
Khanh scooped up an unlit table cloth, using that as a bag for all of the jewels still left on its surface, ripped the golden collar off the man nearest to him, and zipped after Akhmad and Zai to the nearest exit. Zai had regained his sense by then, thank the gods and was shimmying up and out of the now open window. Khanh waited for Akhmad to slither through and then reached for the lip of the windowsill, hauled himself up, and actually chuckled as he landed catlike on the ground below. There was no time to waste and he immediately began sprinting across the intervening ground towards the wall of the compound. There was no one around except for the most ancient looking old woman who was sweeping the same stretch of limestone pathway over and over so that it was the only clean area in the sandy yard.
With a running leap, Khanh managed to grip the top of the wall and again haul himself up to drop down to the other side. After that, it was up to the three of them to get lost in the maze of the city, which was easily done. Except...Khanh had to stop by a scribe. “Here,” he said to Zai, shoving his makeshift pack into the boy’s arms. “I’ll be back. I have an errand.” He broke off from the other two, removing his mask as he did so and stuffing it into the folds of his kilt so that now he just looked like any ordinary person. A little letter needed to be sent and he trusted the other two to get to their basecamp with little enough trouble.
Nenet hugged her mother tight, staring up at Khanh and knowing that they were going to be slain right then. But Iaheru was made of stronger stuff and her strength carried the two of them through the tense moment. Her mother stood and Nenet was about to follow, but felt a different hand clamp around her arm, pulling her to her feet. She had just enough time to recognize Hena’s profile before she was shunted backwards and into a corner, she and her mother both. Nenet watched the thief leap away but her attention reverted back to Hena’s amazingly brave, shockingly caring reaction and she felt such a surge of foreign pride in him. It was almost enough to make her like him in that instant and she put her hand on the center of his back in gratitude. This was proof he didn’t want them all dead, at least. That was nice to know. Beyond them, the bookshelf crackled and Nenet’s heart gave a squeeze as she watched pages curl, smoke, and burst into flame. It hurt to see that, and the wood! Generally she liked the scent of smoke and ash from a fire. It was comforting, but not when the kindling was things she liked to read. In fact, she was pretty sure that some of her drawings had been stuffed into that shelf but she wasn’t idiot enough to go and get them. She hoped that this was reason enough never to host another exhibition of finery in the Saraaya again. At that moment, her mother assured them both that they would all be fine and Nenet breathed a little easier in that moment. With the fire and the open window letting in sunlight from the escaping thieves, Nenet could see the room clearly enough. It was...demolished. Smoke hung like a curtain at the ceiling and the queen herself was now being ushered out. Nenet coughed behind her hand and didn’t fight when she and her brother were summarily trundled out of the room by Iaheru. The older woman stopped to pick up a carpet that was as yet not on fire, and Nenet stopped to pick up whatever books were in reach so that she could be at least somewhat useful, and then hurried out into the blessedly unsmokey corridor beyond. She coughed again and checked around for her father and Nefertaari, and found them ushering more people out of the room. Satisfied that everyone she loved was safe, and never, of course, going to tell any of them that, she took her mother’s elbow, silently checking Iaheru over. The older woman had hit the ground pretty hard... To Hena, she merely said, “Th-th-than-nks.”
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Nenet hugged her mother tight, staring up at Khanh and knowing that they were going to be slain right then. But Iaheru was made of stronger stuff and her strength carried the two of them through the tense moment. Her mother stood and Nenet was about to follow, but felt a different hand clamp around her arm, pulling her to her feet. She had just enough time to recognize Hena’s profile before she was shunted backwards and into a corner, she and her mother both. Nenet watched the thief leap away but her attention reverted back to Hena’s amazingly brave, shockingly caring reaction and she felt such a surge of foreign pride in him. It was almost enough to make her like him in that instant and she put her hand on the center of his back in gratitude. This was proof he didn’t want them all dead, at least. That was nice to know. Beyond them, the bookshelf crackled and Nenet’s heart gave a squeeze as she watched pages curl, smoke, and burst into flame. It hurt to see that, and the wood! Generally she liked the scent of smoke and ash from a fire. It was comforting, but not when the kindling was things she liked to read. In fact, she was pretty sure that some of her drawings had been stuffed into that shelf but she wasn’t idiot enough to go and get them. She hoped that this was reason enough never to host another exhibition of finery in the Saraaya again. At that moment, her mother assured them both that they would all be fine and Nenet breathed a little easier in that moment. With the fire and the open window letting in sunlight from the escaping thieves, Nenet could see the room clearly enough. It was...demolished. Smoke hung like a curtain at the ceiling and the queen herself was now being ushered out. Nenet coughed behind her hand and didn’t fight when she and her brother were summarily trundled out of the room by Iaheru. The older woman stopped to pick up a carpet that was as yet not on fire, and Nenet stopped to pick up whatever books were in reach so that she could be at least somewhat useful, and then hurried out into the blessedly unsmokey corridor beyond. She coughed again and checked around for her father and Nefertaari, and found them ushering more people out of the room. Satisfied that everyone she loved was safe, and never, of course, going to tell any of them that, she took her mother’s elbow, silently checking Iaheru over. The older woman had hit the ground pretty hard... To Hena, she merely said, “Th-th-than-nks.”
Nenet hugged her mother tight, staring up at Khanh and knowing that they were going to be slain right then. But Iaheru was made of stronger stuff and her strength carried the two of them through the tense moment. Her mother stood and Nenet was about to follow, but felt a different hand clamp around her arm, pulling her to her feet. She had just enough time to recognize Hena’s profile before she was shunted backwards and into a corner, she and her mother both. Nenet watched the thief leap away but her attention reverted back to Hena’s amazingly brave, shockingly caring reaction and she felt such a surge of foreign pride in him. It was almost enough to make her like him in that instant and she put her hand on the center of his back in gratitude. This was proof he didn’t want them all dead, at least. That was nice to know. Beyond them, the bookshelf crackled and Nenet’s heart gave a squeeze as she watched pages curl, smoke, and burst into flame. It hurt to see that, and the wood! Generally she liked the scent of smoke and ash from a fire. It was comforting, but not when the kindling was things she liked to read. In fact, she was pretty sure that some of her drawings had been stuffed into that shelf but she wasn’t idiot enough to go and get them. She hoped that this was reason enough never to host another exhibition of finery in the Saraaya again. At that moment, her mother assured them both that they would all be fine and Nenet breathed a little easier in that moment. With the fire and the open window letting in sunlight from the escaping thieves, Nenet could see the room clearly enough. It was...demolished. Smoke hung like a curtain at the ceiling and the queen herself was now being ushered out. Nenet coughed behind her hand and didn’t fight when she and her brother were summarily trundled out of the room by Iaheru. The older woman stopped to pick up a carpet that was as yet not on fire, and Nenet stopped to pick up whatever books were in reach so that she could be at least somewhat useful, and then hurried out into the blessedly unsmokey corridor beyond. She coughed again and checked around for her father and Nefertaari, and found them ushering more people out of the room. Satisfied that everyone she loved was safe, and never, of course, going to tell any of them that, she took her mother’s elbow, silently checking Iaheru over. The older woman had hit the ground pretty hard... To Hena, she merely said, “Th-th-than-nks.”
Akhenaten was glad that what ever the hell went on was now over, and more than ever he was craving a drink. So much for a boring night of socializing with the elite. Things had taken a rather quick turn for the worst, and if anything he was at least happy that he had managed to get his sister out. Or at least his more important sister.
He walked out now with his mother and other sisters, not saying much to them. Sure, when put under pressure he had come to their rescue as best as he could, but he honestly regretted it and sort of wished he had just followed Nia out that window instead.
He now had two people to find. He needed to make sure that Nia was okay and that she hadn’t run into any trouble once he had helped her escape from the room, and he needed to find and confront Ana who had disappeared at the first sign of trouble.
He couldn’t help but wonder if she had something to do with any of this. How had the thieves known when and where to strike? The event hadn’t been public knowledge, so how had they found out? Ana had been the only one there who was a stranger, an outsider to the upper class.
For now though, on the forefront of his mind was Nia, and making sure that she was okay and unharmed.
As people filed out, Hena broke from his mother and other sisters to go and find Nia, sure that she would share his sentiment that a drink was much needed right now. Or rather, several drinks were much needed. He was certain their parents would be busy trying to figure out exactly what was lost that night and do some damage control.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Akhenaten was glad that what ever the hell went on was now over, and more than ever he was craving a drink. So much for a boring night of socializing with the elite. Things had taken a rather quick turn for the worst, and if anything he was at least happy that he had managed to get his sister out. Or at least his more important sister.
He walked out now with his mother and other sisters, not saying much to them. Sure, when put under pressure he had come to their rescue as best as he could, but he honestly regretted it and sort of wished he had just followed Nia out that window instead.
He now had two people to find. He needed to make sure that Nia was okay and that she hadn’t run into any trouble once he had helped her escape from the room, and he needed to find and confront Ana who had disappeared at the first sign of trouble.
He couldn’t help but wonder if she had something to do with any of this. How had the thieves known when and where to strike? The event hadn’t been public knowledge, so how had they found out? Ana had been the only one there who was a stranger, an outsider to the upper class.
For now though, on the forefront of his mind was Nia, and making sure that she was okay and unharmed.
As people filed out, Hena broke from his mother and other sisters to go and find Nia, sure that she would share his sentiment that a drink was much needed right now. Or rather, several drinks were much needed. He was certain their parents would be busy trying to figure out exactly what was lost that night and do some damage control.
Akhenaten was glad that what ever the hell went on was now over, and more than ever he was craving a drink. So much for a boring night of socializing with the elite. Things had taken a rather quick turn for the worst, and if anything he was at least happy that he had managed to get his sister out. Or at least his more important sister.
He walked out now with his mother and other sisters, not saying much to them. Sure, when put under pressure he had come to their rescue as best as he could, but he honestly regretted it and sort of wished he had just followed Nia out that window instead.
He now had two people to find. He needed to make sure that Nia was okay and that she hadn’t run into any trouble once he had helped her escape from the room, and he needed to find and confront Ana who had disappeared at the first sign of trouble.
He couldn’t help but wonder if she had something to do with any of this. How had the thieves known when and where to strike? The event hadn’t been public knowledge, so how had they found out? Ana had been the only one there who was a stranger, an outsider to the upper class.
For now though, on the forefront of his mind was Nia, and making sure that she was okay and unharmed.
As people filed out, Hena broke from his mother and other sisters to go and find Nia, sure that she would share his sentiment that a drink was much needed right now. Or rather, several drinks were much needed. He was certain their parents would be busy trying to figure out exactly what was lost that night and do some damage control.