The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
The circus' books were becoming too expansive for its ringmaster to keep track of on his own. Done with his business for the morning, Amenemhat gleaned something from a local tavern keeper that brought him of the mind to stay in Cairo just a bit longer.
It wasn't that the workload was difficult, but with the needs of the showroom, the numerous moving parts that needed answers to keep chugging along... Amenemhat was being stretched thin. The workload would, if left as it was, begin encroaching into his sleep, and the ringmaster, the core of the Tempest of Set's show, needed his rest to ensure perfection in all that he did. Or at least, the best possible work he could offer. Word spread quickly that there was a new Hei that was gaining traction, given its power and some of its wealth by the pharaoh once he took power.
H'Abaddi. It would be impolite to ignore them.
Propriety often wasn't the man's concerns, but just as the gossip spread the existence of the Hei to the winds, there was also talk of those that lingered within. There was tell of a woman who kept track of the numbers of H'Abaddi. A feat in it of itself, to be trusted so extensively as to have that responsibility, it was only reasonable for Amenemhat to see for himself the validity of it all. He needed help, and if that meant giving to one of the Heis that he could, for the moment, take nothing from... then he'd be satisfied with that.
The circus should always be on good terms with the nobility. Regimes rise and fall, but those pawns that remain in the wake are necessary pieces to wrangle in perpetuity.
The thought coursed through his mind as he moved through the Ghani district, a sleek violet shawl wrapped about his shoulders with the embroidered insignia of the cyclone that represented his circus. Aside from the sash that kept his pleated skirts snug about his waist, he moved through the sands barefoot, the heat tickling at the soles of his feet as the towering structure that was Saraaya H'Abaddi came into view. It was an impressive property, one that gave more credence to the Hei's validity than the crumbling mess that was Saraaya H'Haikaddad. The torch of influence had passed, and so...
Adapt to survive. As power moves from house to house, so shall I to solicit them into seeing things my way.
"I've come to see Osiria H'Abaddi. Is she available? I am Amenemhat of the Tempest of Set."
The ringmaster had shown up unannounced, but given her position within her house as the homebody, he was inclined to believe that he'd find her here. If not... then he could attend to other matters within the Ghani district. Cairo was a third home to Amenemhat, and as his relations with the Heis grew stronger, that mentality became more and more prominent. Gossip was always a nebulous thing, so unpredictable as to when golden nuggets of information would make themselves known to him. This bit, today? Amenemhat was, perhaps, unprepared to receive it, having left his circus under the joint supervision of Rekhmire and Layla. There were no performers with him, little in the way of a show to give to the lady of the Hei. But, the smile wore well upon his lips and as one of the guards left to fetch the woman, Nem considered his approach.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The circus' books were becoming too expansive for its ringmaster to keep track of on his own. Done with his business for the morning, Amenemhat gleaned something from a local tavern keeper that brought him of the mind to stay in Cairo just a bit longer.
It wasn't that the workload was difficult, but with the needs of the showroom, the numerous moving parts that needed answers to keep chugging along... Amenemhat was being stretched thin. The workload would, if left as it was, begin encroaching into his sleep, and the ringmaster, the core of the Tempest of Set's show, needed his rest to ensure perfection in all that he did. Or at least, the best possible work he could offer. Word spread quickly that there was a new Hei that was gaining traction, given its power and some of its wealth by the pharaoh once he took power.
H'Abaddi. It would be impolite to ignore them.
Propriety often wasn't the man's concerns, but just as the gossip spread the existence of the Hei to the winds, there was also talk of those that lingered within. There was tell of a woman who kept track of the numbers of H'Abaddi. A feat in it of itself, to be trusted so extensively as to have that responsibility, it was only reasonable for Amenemhat to see for himself the validity of it all. He needed help, and if that meant giving to one of the Heis that he could, for the moment, take nothing from... then he'd be satisfied with that.
The circus should always be on good terms with the nobility. Regimes rise and fall, but those pawns that remain in the wake are necessary pieces to wrangle in perpetuity.
The thought coursed through his mind as he moved through the Ghani district, a sleek violet shawl wrapped about his shoulders with the embroidered insignia of the cyclone that represented his circus. Aside from the sash that kept his pleated skirts snug about his waist, he moved through the sands barefoot, the heat tickling at the soles of his feet as the towering structure that was Saraaya H'Abaddi came into view. It was an impressive property, one that gave more credence to the Hei's validity than the crumbling mess that was Saraaya H'Haikaddad. The torch of influence had passed, and so...
Adapt to survive. As power moves from house to house, so shall I to solicit them into seeing things my way.
"I've come to see Osiria H'Abaddi. Is she available? I am Amenemhat of the Tempest of Set."
The ringmaster had shown up unannounced, but given her position within her house as the homebody, he was inclined to believe that he'd find her here. If not... then he could attend to other matters within the Ghani district. Cairo was a third home to Amenemhat, and as his relations with the Heis grew stronger, that mentality became more and more prominent. Gossip was always a nebulous thing, so unpredictable as to when golden nuggets of information would make themselves known to him. This bit, today? Amenemhat was, perhaps, unprepared to receive it, having left his circus under the joint supervision of Rekhmire and Layla. There were no performers with him, little in the way of a show to give to the lady of the Hei. But, the smile wore well upon his lips and as one of the guards left to fetch the woman, Nem considered his approach.
The circus' books were becoming too expansive for its ringmaster to keep track of on his own. Done with his business for the morning, Amenemhat gleaned something from a local tavern keeper that brought him of the mind to stay in Cairo just a bit longer.
It wasn't that the workload was difficult, but with the needs of the showroom, the numerous moving parts that needed answers to keep chugging along... Amenemhat was being stretched thin. The workload would, if left as it was, begin encroaching into his sleep, and the ringmaster, the core of the Tempest of Set's show, needed his rest to ensure perfection in all that he did. Or at least, the best possible work he could offer. Word spread quickly that there was a new Hei that was gaining traction, given its power and some of its wealth by the pharaoh once he took power.
H'Abaddi. It would be impolite to ignore them.
Propriety often wasn't the man's concerns, but just as the gossip spread the existence of the Hei to the winds, there was also talk of those that lingered within. There was tell of a woman who kept track of the numbers of H'Abaddi. A feat in it of itself, to be trusted so extensively as to have that responsibility, it was only reasonable for Amenemhat to see for himself the validity of it all. He needed help, and if that meant giving to one of the Heis that he could, for the moment, take nothing from... then he'd be satisfied with that.
The circus should always be on good terms with the nobility. Regimes rise and fall, but those pawns that remain in the wake are necessary pieces to wrangle in perpetuity.
The thought coursed through his mind as he moved through the Ghani district, a sleek violet shawl wrapped about his shoulders with the embroidered insignia of the cyclone that represented his circus. Aside from the sash that kept his pleated skirts snug about his waist, he moved through the sands barefoot, the heat tickling at the soles of his feet as the towering structure that was Saraaya H'Abaddi came into view. It was an impressive property, one that gave more credence to the Hei's validity than the crumbling mess that was Saraaya H'Haikaddad. The torch of influence had passed, and so...
Adapt to survive. As power moves from house to house, so shall I to solicit them into seeing things my way.
"I've come to see Osiria H'Abaddi. Is she available? I am Amenemhat of the Tempest of Set."
The ringmaster had shown up unannounced, but given her position within her house as the homebody, he was inclined to believe that he'd find her here. If not... then he could attend to other matters within the Ghani district. Cairo was a third home to Amenemhat, and as his relations with the Heis grew stronger, that mentality became more and more prominent. Gossip was always a nebulous thing, so unpredictable as to when golden nuggets of information would make themselves known to him. This bit, today? Amenemhat was, perhaps, unprepared to receive it, having left his circus under the joint supervision of Rekhmire and Layla. There were no performers with him, little in the way of a show to give to the lady of the Hei. But, the smile wore well upon his lips and as one of the guards left to fetch the woman, Nem considered his approach.
The heat of the day had crept into the house, making the open rooms stifling and the interior rooms unbearable. Fortunately, the outer balcony was at least tolerable, and that was where Osiria had placed herself to weave. It wasn't a necessity anymore, but it was something she enjoyed. It kept her hands busy and allowed her to turn her mind to other matters- like how to best utilize the funds she'd set aside for improvements upon the house. At the moment, the two-story building was grand, but nowhere near the splendor of the other Heis' homes. They had grand spires and gold inlays, where the H'Abaddi had simple engraved work and scrolling on the pillars. The inside spoke of wealth, with its drapes and statues and glass-embedded floors, but even that was balanced with a sense of frugality. Osiria and Ressiah had walked a fine line in choosing their decor- implementing just enough to ensure that the other nobility would have no reason to disparage them.
Bringing a gold thread in among the red, she squinted up at one of the corners of the house. Spires. They were in fashion at the moment, but she simply didn't see the point of something so...useless- even in decoration. Her weaving was of practical value, made to hang over the open windows of her bedroom on especially cold nights, inside the initial reed drapes as a sort of second line of defense. They weren't of the quality needed for decor in the halls or for sale.
Her lips twitched at her own comparison of their function. She had heard Sethtah speak about his military matters far too often. Speaking of which, she should write him a letter soon and inquire after his well-being...
Her thoughts were interrupted by the approach of a guard and she brought her hands away from her weaving, turning in her seat to look at him directly. All of their servants had been hired by herself or Ressiah, but the guards had been chosen by her brother, who supposedly had an eye for reliability. She heard his message and paused, frowning.
She had heard of the Tempest of Set, a circus that had become something of a sensation, if she understood correctly. She had never been one for frivolity and thus rarely attended such things, something for which she had been judged as 'dull' in the past. She couldn't be bothered to care much about the label. There were things to be done.
Why this man would wish an audience with her specifically was somewhat perplexing to her. Sethtah, or even Ressiah, she could understand, but herself? It was worth a small amount of investigation. She nodded to the guard and bade him to bring their guest up. It would be best to meet him on the balcony, where the stifling weather was not quite so unforgiving. Summoning a few of the servants, she had another chair brought and her weaving moved aside. A small table of fresh fruits and cool drink was placed between the chairs. Osiria stood overlooking the street as she awaited this man who had sought her out.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The heat of the day had crept into the house, making the open rooms stifling and the interior rooms unbearable. Fortunately, the outer balcony was at least tolerable, and that was where Osiria had placed herself to weave. It wasn't a necessity anymore, but it was something she enjoyed. It kept her hands busy and allowed her to turn her mind to other matters- like how to best utilize the funds she'd set aside for improvements upon the house. At the moment, the two-story building was grand, but nowhere near the splendor of the other Heis' homes. They had grand spires and gold inlays, where the H'Abaddi had simple engraved work and scrolling on the pillars. The inside spoke of wealth, with its drapes and statues and glass-embedded floors, but even that was balanced with a sense of frugality. Osiria and Ressiah had walked a fine line in choosing their decor- implementing just enough to ensure that the other nobility would have no reason to disparage them.
Bringing a gold thread in among the red, she squinted up at one of the corners of the house. Spires. They were in fashion at the moment, but she simply didn't see the point of something so...useless- even in decoration. Her weaving was of practical value, made to hang over the open windows of her bedroom on especially cold nights, inside the initial reed drapes as a sort of second line of defense. They weren't of the quality needed for decor in the halls or for sale.
Her lips twitched at her own comparison of their function. She had heard Sethtah speak about his military matters far too often. Speaking of which, she should write him a letter soon and inquire after his well-being...
Her thoughts were interrupted by the approach of a guard and she brought her hands away from her weaving, turning in her seat to look at him directly. All of their servants had been hired by herself or Ressiah, but the guards had been chosen by her brother, who supposedly had an eye for reliability. She heard his message and paused, frowning.
She had heard of the Tempest of Set, a circus that had become something of a sensation, if she understood correctly. She had never been one for frivolity and thus rarely attended such things, something for which she had been judged as 'dull' in the past. She couldn't be bothered to care much about the label. There were things to be done.
Why this man would wish an audience with her specifically was somewhat perplexing to her. Sethtah, or even Ressiah, she could understand, but herself? It was worth a small amount of investigation. She nodded to the guard and bade him to bring their guest up. It would be best to meet him on the balcony, where the stifling weather was not quite so unforgiving. Summoning a few of the servants, she had another chair brought and her weaving moved aside. A small table of fresh fruits and cool drink was placed between the chairs. Osiria stood overlooking the street as she awaited this man who had sought her out.
The heat of the day had crept into the house, making the open rooms stifling and the interior rooms unbearable. Fortunately, the outer balcony was at least tolerable, and that was where Osiria had placed herself to weave. It wasn't a necessity anymore, but it was something she enjoyed. It kept her hands busy and allowed her to turn her mind to other matters- like how to best utilize the funds she'd set aside for improvements upon the house. At the moment, the two-story building was grand, but nowhere near the splendor of the other Heis' homes. They had grand spires and gold inlays, where the H'Abaddi had simple engraved work and scrolling on the pillars. The inside spoke of wealth, with its drapes and statues and glass-embedded floors, but even that was balanced with a sense of frugality. Osiria and Ressiah had walked a fine line in choosing their decor- implementing just enough to ensure that the other nobility would have no reason to disparage them.
Bringing a gold thread in among the red, she squinted up at one of the corners of the house. Spires. They were in fashion at the moment, but she simply didn't see the point of something so...useless- even in decoration. Her weaving was of practical value, made to hang over the open windows of her bedroom on especially cold nights, inside the initial reed drapes as a sort of second line of defense. They weren't of the quality needed for decor in the halls or for sale.
Her lips twitched at her own comparison of their function. She had heard Sethtah speak about his military matters far too often. Speaking of which, she should write him a letter soon and inquire after his well-being...
Her thoughts were interrupted by the approach of a guard and she brought her hands away from her weaving, turning in her seat to look at him directly. All of their servants had been hired by herself or Ressiah, but the guards had been chosen by her brother, who supposedly had an eye for reliability. She heard his message and paused, frowning.
She had heard of the Tempest of Set, a circus that had become something of a sensation, if she understood correctly. She had never been one for frivolity and thus rarely attended such things, something for which she had been judged as 'dull' in the past. She couldn't be bothered to care much about the label. There were things to be done.
Why this man would wish an audience with her specifically was somewhat perplexing to her. Sethtah, or even Ressiah, she could understand, but herself? It was worth a small amount of investigation. She nodded to the guard and bade him to bring their guest up. It would be best to meet him on the balcony, where the stifling weather was not quite so unforgiving. Summoning a few of the servants, she had another chair brought and her weaving moved aside. A small table of fresh fruits and cool drink was placed between the chairs. Osiria stood overlooking the street as she awaited this man who had sought her out.
It was an amusing thought, to come unannounced and having the newly-wrought noble wondering about the purpose of his visit. After all, the ringmaster was not known for his extended stays within the cities of Egypt. After all, there were matters to attend to and an empire to rule over. While Amenemhat of the Tempest of Set did not have a noble name, he held more power over his own slice of the world than any of them could. The idea was an intoxicating one, and while the ringmaster could revel in his power and scoff at the nobility for their definition of a thing, there was no reason to.
They were worthy of his respect. They were worthy of his attention. They weren't, however, worthy of him belittling himself to show them any sort of due respect. He offered alliances, not allegiance. He offered contracts and benefit to both sides of an agreement, but made sure that he always came over the victor. As he was led into the saraaya, he was quite impressed. The property was more up to line with the modern trends than that of H'Haikaddad. Pristine, well-lit and spacious, he could truly relish in such a property.
However, unlike Somgi of Cairo before him, Amenemhat did not have a family to leave behind as he traveled. He did not need personal property as these people had, for the world was his oyster. He kept pace with the guard as he heard the movements of slaves fetching chairs and refreshments. The hospitality of the nobility was an admirable thing. Truly, they treated their guests well. Led up a flight of stairs and towards a balcony that overlooked the cityscape, intrigue caught upon the ringmaster's features. He didn't immediately step out to greet the woman.
First, Amenemhat allowed himself to admire the land that he performed for. One of the great cities of Egypt, it was a rare pleasure to see the sheer size of it from a comfortable height. Often, he saw the city from the earth, seeing it not as the mass that it was, but a caricature of its majesty obscured by the very buildings that made up its size. Then, he'd see it from the port, where the buildings were more distant, but the vantage not quite adequate to be appreciated in this way. Once he'd had his fill of the sight, he made his way to the proffered seat.
The ringmaster sat next to the noblewoman, acclimating to his seat before he shifted his attention to the woman in earnest. He took the goblet offered, his gaze drifting for just a moment to see what it was before he began,
"Lady Osiria H'Abaddi," he began. He wondered as he spoke how many free men had called her that in the brief interlude that was her time as a noble. The thought intrigued him, but he continued nonetheless,
"I heard about you in the most unexpected turn of events and it all but forced me to make myself known to you. Is it true, my lady, that you manage your family ledgers? If it is, that is quite impressive."
He made not mention of her sex and that being the reason for the feat. He didn't care about that. After all, there were many a man who couldn't handle the task of maintaining a proper ledger. Narmer H'Haikaddad came to mind and he almost scoffed aloud as the young sirdar entered his thoughts. He waved off the intrusion, privately amused but allowing cool neutrality to set poised upon his features. As he inquired, the ringmaster couldn't help but find his gaze drift. He drank in the young woman's features, quite pleased at the sight of her.
It's always more pleasurable to conduct business with women. Perhaps it's the rarity of it all, he mused.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
It was an amusing thought, to come unannounced and having the newly-wrought noble wondering about the purpose of his visit. After all, the ringmaster was not known for his extended stays within the cities of Egypt. After all, there were matters to attend to and an empire to rule over. While Amenemhat of the Tempest of Set did not have a noble name, he held more power over his own slice of the world than any of them could. The idea was an intoxicating one, and while the ringmaster could revel in his power and scoff at the nobility for their definition of a thing, there was no reason to.
They were worthy of his respect. They were worthy of his attention. They weren't, however, worthy of him belittling himself to show them any sort of due respect. He offered alliances, not allegiance. He offered contracts and benefit to both sides of an agreement, but made sure that he always came over the victor. As he was led into the saraaya, he was quite impressed. The property was more up to line with the modern trends than that of H'Haikaddad. Pristine, well-lit and spacious, he could truly relish in such a property.
However, unlike Somgi of Cairo before him, Amenemhat did not have a family to leave behind as he traveled. He did not need personal property as these people had, for the world was his oyster. He kept pace with the guard as he heard the movements of slaves fetching chairs and refreshments. The hospitality of the nobility was an admirable thing. Truly, they treated their guests well. Led up a flight of stairs and towards a balcony that overlooked the cityscape, intrigue caught upon the ringmaster's features. He didn't immediately step out to greet the woman.
First, Amenemhat allowed himself to admire the land that he performed for. One of the great cities of Egypt, it was a rare pleasure to see the sheer size of it from a comfortable height. Often, he saw the city from the earth, seeing it not as the mass that it was, but a caricature of its majesty obscured by the very buildings that made up its size. Then, he'd see it from the port, where the buildings were more distant, but the vantage not quite adequate to be appreciated in this way. Once he'd had his fill of the sight, he made his way to the proffered seat.
The ringmaster sat next to the noblewoman, acclimating to his seat before he shifted his attention to the woman in earnest. He took the goblet offered, his gaze drifting for just a moment to see what it was before he began,
"Lady Osiria H'Abaddi," he began. He wondered as he spoke how many free men had called her that in the brief interlude that was her time as a noble. The thought intrigued him, but he continued nonetheless,
"I heard about you in the most unexpected turn of events and it all but forced me to make myself known to you. Is it true, my lady, that you manage your family ledgers? If it is, that is quite impressive."
He made not mention of her sex and that being the reason for the feat. He didn't care about that. After all, there were many a man who couldn't handle the task of maintaining a proper ledger. Narmer H'Haikaddad came to mind and he almost scoffed aloud as the young sirdar entered his thoughts. He waved off the intrusion, privately amused but allowing cool neutrality to set poised upon his features. As he inquired, the ringmaster couldn't help but find his gaze drift. He drank in the young woman's features, quite pleased at the sight of her.
It's always more pleasurable to conduct business with women. Perhaps it's the rarity of it all, he mused.
It was an amusing thought, to come unannounced and having the newly-wrought noble wondering about the purpose of his visit. After all, the ringmaster was not known for his extended stays within the cities of Egypt. After all, there were matters to attend to and an empire to rule over. While Amenemhat of the Tempest of Set did not have a noble name, he held more power over his own slice of the world than any of them could. The idea was an intoxicating one, and while the ringmaster could revel in his power and scoff at the nobility for their definition of a thing, there was no reason to.
They were worthy of his respect. They were worthy of his attention. They weren't, however, worthy of him belittling himself to show them any sort of due respect. He offered alliances, not allegiance. He offered contracts and benefit to both sides of an agreement, but made sure that he always came over the victor. As he was led into the saraaya, he was quite impressed. The property was more up to line with the modern trends than that of H'Haikaddad. Pristine, well-lit and spacious, he could truly relish in such a property.
However, unlike Somgi of Cairo before him, Amenemhat did not have a family to leave behind as he traveled. He did not need personal property as these people had, for the world was his oyster. He kept pace with the guard as he heard the movements of slaves fetching chairs and refreshments. The hospitality of the nobility was an admirable thing. Truly, they treated their guests well. Led up a flight of stairs and towards a balcony that overlooked the cityscape, intrigue caught upon the ringmaster's features. He didn't immediately step out to greet the woman.
First, Amenemhat allowed himself to admire the land that he performed for. One of the great cities of Egypt, it was a rare pleasure to see the sheer size of it from a comfortable height. Often, he saw the city from the earth, seeing it not as the mass that it was, but a caricature of its majesty obscured by the very buildings that made up its size. Then, he'd see it from the port, where the buildings were more distant, but the vantage not quite adequate to be appreciated in this way. Once he'd had his fill of the sight, he made his way to the proffered seat.
The ringmaster sat next to the noblewoman, acclimating to his seat before he shifted his attention to the woman in earnest. He took the goblet offered, his gaze drifting for just a moment to see what it was before he began,
"Lady Osiria H'Abaddi," he began. He wondered as he spoke how many free men had called her that in the brief interlude that was her time as a noble. The thought intrigued him, but he continued nonetheless,
"I heard about you in the most unexpected turn of events and it all but forced me to make myself known to you. Is it true, my lady, that you manage your family ledgers? If it is, that is quite impressive."
He made not mention of her sex and that being the reason for the feat. He didn't care about that. After all, there were many a man who couldn't handle the task of maintaining a proper ledger. Narmer H'Haikaddad came to mind and he almost scoffed aloud as the young sirdar entered his thoughts. He waved off the intrusion, privately amused but allowing cool neutrality to set poised upon his features. As he inquired, the ringmaster couldn't help but find his gaze drift. He drank in the young woman's features, quite pleased at the sight of her.
It's always more pleasurable to conduct business with women. Perhaps it's the rarity of it all, he mused.