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With the men drawn away to the North in preparation for War, their opulent homes and more importantly, the beautiful women who are their wives, daughters, sisters are left alone undefended. Never those to miss an opportunity, there has been a sudden spate of theft within the richer districts. Not enough to turn too many heads, but perhaps to leave the noblewomen feeling a little jumpy at night until a report comes in that a young girl has gone missing, snatched from her very bed chambers it would seem.
As the girl's distraught family look for answers, the nobility gather as one in the wake of this trespass against their own, and as tongues begin to wag suspicion and rumours are levelled at the strange folk of the circus that has been encamped nearby
Event Ideas
-- Many of the menfolk are gone off to war, this event is for those characters left behind. Has your house been victim to one of these thefts? Perhaps you have seen some strangers lurking around?
-- Or maybe you are one of those being gossiped about. People fear what they do not understand, but is it justified or not. How will those from Tempest of Set take being badmouthed?
-- Or anything else! If you want to do something wild and wacky that makes sense in this event then go for it! You can use it for your own personal drama, start a catfight, declare a rivalry, reveal a secret in public to all. Remember: there is no wrong way to do this. There is no plan. Just storm forward and go for it! Just remember to tag everyone who might be affected by your more curveball-y posts in the #roleplay-tags channel.
Characters who may be interested in this event:
tbc .
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
With the men drawn away to the North in preparation for War, their opulent homes and more importantly, the beautiful women who are their wives, daughters, sisters are left alone undefended. Never those to miss an opportunity, there has been a sudden spate of theft within the richer districts. Not enough to turn too many heads, but perhaps to leave the noblewomen feeling a little jumpy at night until a report comes in that a young girl has gone missing, snatched from her very bed chambers it would seem.
As the girl's distraught family look for answers, the nobility gather as one in the wake of this trespass against their own, and as tongues begin to wag suspicion and rumours are levelled at the strange folk of the circus that has been encamped nearby
Event Ideas
-- Many of the menfolk are gone off to war, this event is for those characters left behind. Has your house been victim to one of these thefts? Perhaps you have seen some strangers lurking around?
-- Or maybe you are one of those being gossiped about. People fear what they do not understand, but is it justified or not. How will those from Tempest of Set take being badmouthed?
-- Or anything else! If you want to do something wild and wacky that makes sense in this event then go for it! You can use it for your own personal drama, start a catfight, declare a rivalry, reveal a secret in public to all. Remember: there is no wrong way to do this. There is no plan. Just storm forward and go for it! Just remember to tag everyone who might be affected by your more curveball-y posts in the #roleplay-tags channel.
Characters who may be interested in this event:
tbc .
Opportunity Knocks Event - Egypt
With the men drawn away to the North in preparation for War, their opulent homes and more importantly, the beautiful women who are their wives, daughters, sisters are left alone undefended. Never those to miss an opportunity, there has been a sudden spate of theft within the richer districts. Not enough to turn too many heads, but perhaps to leave the noblewomen feeling a little jumpy at night until a report comes in that a young girl has gone missing, snatched from her very bed chambers it would seem.
As the girl's distraught family look for answers, the nobility gather as one in the wake of this trespass against their own, and as tongues begin to wag suspicion and rumours are levelled at the strange folk of the circus that has been encamped nearby
Event Ideas
-- Many of the menfolk are gone off to war, this event is for those characters left behind. Has your house been victim to one of these thefts? Perhaps you have seen some strangers lurking around?
-- Or maybe you are one of those being gossiped about. People fear what they do not understand, but is it justified or not. How will those from Tempest of Set take being badmouthed?
-- Or anything else! If you want to do something wild and wacky that makes sense in this event then go for it! You can use it for your own personal drama, start a catfight, declare a rivalry, reveal a secret in public to all. Remember: there is no wrong way to do this. There is no plan. Just storm forward and go for it! Just remember to tag everyone who might be affected by your more curveball-y posts in the #roleplay-tags channel.
Characters who may be interested in this event:
tbc .
Cairo was not an excessively large city. Rumours stirred up by the weak and pathetic flared in the arid winds like wildfire. Poisonous thoughts and assumptions about the recent disappearances served to fuel the ire that resided already within the chest of Amenemhat of the Tempest of Set. Ticket sales were already declining, for the circus spent entirely too much time within the capitol. People saw what they wanted to see, so the general audiences that did not take to the thrill so heavily did not repeat. Eventually, it was just fanatics: worshipers of Set who preferred this to the temple, the children of patrons who were given special treatment.
In the end, Cairo was giving less and less to the circus, and then, to top it off, they had the audacity to level accusations and whisper them from the shadows. Of course, Nem found the ire so ready to break the surface. But, what could be done to show it? There was no taking this merely turning a cheek. The people of Cairo showed their true colours, and... so would the circus. It was all part of a greater show, an audience of a scale that'd surely extend towards the outer reaches of Egypt.
That's fine, he mused. Law and order did not exist anymore, it seemed. The soldiers that occupied Egyptian cities were all distanced, serving in a war to satisfy their pharaoh's gullet. Where the nation of Egypt was weak, the Tempest of Set was not.
We have everyone we need,
The inner cult of the Tempest of Set, and then those that sensed, either through subterfuge or an innate instinct, that there was more to be seen and done within the circus than their position allowed. The ringmaster called for his loyalists just as the nobility within the capital called their own little meeting. He'd heard about it, the whirling rumours and the stir for action. Surely, it'd be more of the same.
So, retaliation was needed. Already, he'd leveled his concerns with his sister, Kesi. Layla had not approved of Amenemhat's methods, concerned about the consequences of being so direct. But, they need not provide evidence of their involvement. Subtlety, grace... the acrobats of the Tempest of Set did not lack for it. Strength, skill. The masters of the circus, whether of its beasts or the ringmaster himself... all of them had their assets that he could make use of.
"I've called you here today, friends, to bite at the 'hand that feeds us'. We've lost our glamour, spent far too long here, and they punish our stillness with malevolence. Before we leave them behind, we must show them their audacity in accusing us of things we did not do."
How? Surely, they had their questions. Nem would've, too. He waited just a moment before he elaborated,
"By throwing stones of our own. We show them how we could ruin them. Their imaginations are left to roam, their assumptions that we'd strike first, steal their people away. When more than half of our faces are of foreign make? What need do we have for them? Their gold is enough."
It irritated him beyond understanding, so he shared his rage.
"Hit them where it hurts. We split into groups, and we do things quietly. We'll be on our way to Thebes before they know what's happened."
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.
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Cairo was not an excessively large city. Rumours stirred up by the weak and pathetic flared in the arid winds like wildfire. Poisonous thoughts and assumptions about the recent disappearances served to fuel the ire that resided already within the chest of Amenemhat of the Tempest of Set. Ticket sales were already declining, for the circus spent entirely too much time within the capitol. People saw what they wanted to see, so the general audiences that did not take to the thrill so heavily did not repeat. Eventually, it was just fanatics: worshipers of Set who preferred this to the temple, the children of patrons who were given special treatment.
In the end, Cairo was giving less and less to the circus, and then, to top it off, they had the audacity to level accusations and whisper them from the shadows. Of course, Nem found the ire so ready to break the surface. But, what could be done to show it? There was no taking this merely turning a cheek. The people of Cairo showed their true colours, and... so would the circus. It was all part of a greater show, an audience of a scale that'd surely extend towards the outer reaches of Egypt.
That's fine, he mused. Law and order did not exist anymore, it seemed. The soldiers that occupied Egyptian cities were all distanced, serving in a war to satisfy their pharaoh's gullet. Where the nation of Egypt was weak, the Tempest of Set was not.
We have everyone we need,
The inner cult of the Tempest of Set, and then those that sensed, either through subterfuge or an innate instinct, that there was more to be seen and done within the circus than their position allowed. The ringmaster called for his loyalists just as the nobility within the capital called their own little meeting. He'd heard about it, the whirling rumours and the stir for action. Surely, it'd be more of the same.
So, retaliation was needed. Already, he'd leveled his concerns with his sister, Kesi. Layla had not approved of Amenemhat's methods, concerned about the consequences of being so direct. But, they need not provide evidence of their involvement. Subtlety, grace... the acrobats of the Tempest of Set did not lack for it. Strength, skill. The masters of the circus, whether of its beasts or the ringmaster himself... all of them had their assets that he could make use of.
"I've called you here today, friends, to bite at the 'hand that feeds us'. We've lost our glamour, spent far too long here, and they punish our stillness with malevolence. Before we leave them behind, we must show them their audacity in accusing us of things we did not do."
How? Surely, they had their questions. Nem would've, too. He waited just a moment before he elaborated,
"By throwing stones of our own. We show them how we could ruin them. Their imaginations are left to roam, their assumptions that we'd strike first, steal their people away. When more than half of our faces are of foreign make? What need do we have for them? Their gold is enough."
It irritated him beyond understanding, so he shared his rage.
"Hit them where it hurts. We split into groups, and we do things quietly. We'll be on our way to Thebes before they know what's happened."
Cairo was not an excessively large city. Rumours stirred up by the weak and pathetic flared in the arid winds like wildfire. Poisonous thoughts and assumptions about the recent disappearances served to fuel the ire that resided already within the chest of Amenemhat of the Tempest of Set. Ticket sales were already declining, for the circus spent entirely too much time within the capitol. People saw what they wanted to see, so the general audiences that did not take to the thrill so heavily did not repeat. Eventually, it was just fanatics: worshipers of Set who preferred this to the temple, the children of patrons who were given special treatment.
In the end, Cairo was giving less and less to the circus, and then, to top it off, they had the audacity to level accusations and whisper them from the shadows. Of course, Nem found the ire so ready to break the surface. But, what could be done to show it? There was no taking this merely turning a cheek. The people of Cairo showed their true colours, and... so would the circus. It was all part of a greater show, an audience of a scale that'd surely extend towards the outer reaches of Egypt.
That's fine, he mused. Law and order did not exist anymore, it seemed. The soldiers that occupied Egyptian cities were all distanced, serving in a war to satisfy their pharaoh's gullet. Where the nation of Egypt was weak, the Tempest of Set was not.
We have everyone we need,
The inner cult of the Tempest of Set, and then those that sensed, either through subterfuge or an innate instinct, that there was more to be seen and done within the circus than their position allowed. The ringmaster called for his loyalists just as the nobility within the capital called their own little meeting. He'd heard about it, the whirling rumours and the stir for action. Surely, it'd be more of the same.
So, retaliation was needed. Already, he'd leveled his concerns with his sister, Kesi. Layla had not approved of Amenemhat's methods, concerned about the consequences of being so direct. But, they need not provide evidence of their involvement. Subtlety, grace... the acrobats of the Tempest of Set did not lack for it. Strength, skill. The masters of the circus, whether of its beasts or the ringmaster himself... all of them had their assets that he could make use of.
"I've called you here today, friends, to bite at the 'hand that feeds us'. We've lost our glamour, spent far too long here, and they punish our stillness with malevolence. Before we leave them behind, we must show them their audacity in accusing us of things we did not do."
How? Surely, they had their questions. Nem would've, too. He waited just a moment before he elaborated,
"By throwing stones of our own. We show them how we could ruin them. Their imaginations are left to roam, their assumptions that we'd strike first, steal their people away. When more than half of our faces are of foreign make? What need do we have for them? Their gold is enough."
It irritated him beyond understanding, so he shared his rage.
"Hit them where it hurts. We split into groups, and we do things quietly. We'll be on our way to Thebes before they know what's happened."
Anger. Excitement. Hatred. Frustration.
Kesi felt it all. Her mind was firing off with different emotions as she gathered all the robes and masks. Her lips were pulled tight and serious, but the fire in her eyes was lit and burning brightly. The people of Cairo were bullies. They were horrid, rancid people who deserved nothing more than to start their journey towards the Du’at. They would make their way to Anubis for judgment only to be crushed into nonexistence. No one would make it to the Field of Reeds. They were unworthy.
Bullies… no, that wasn’t the right term for them. For these people did something worse than bullying. Who they upset was not Kesi… but her brother. And that was not something that she would allow. Pain was Kesi’s friend, suffering was not so distant memory, and that the small girl could handle. She would take all the pain, all the suffering so that it would never take hold of her brother. He deserved everything he could ever desire. And the people, the idiots sought to deny him. Accusing the circus was one thing, but creating baseless lies like stealing Egyptian children undermined her brother.
They would die and Kesi would bathe in their blood.
She wanted to burn the whole city- no the whole kingdom! But tonight, she would settle for less. Kesi would settle for turmoil. Before Amenemhat had gathered the inner cult, after the majority of the circus started making their way towards Thebes, Kesi had a small task to do. She made her way to the Temple of @set. There, she had met with the Setians. The Tempest of Set wasn’t the only cult that existed. Though the two groups may not agree on everything, the one thing they had in common was their worship of chaos. It was so easy to get them involved in their plans, and as her brother spoke Kesi handed out robes and masks provided by the Temple.
“The Setians send their regards, Ringmaster,” Kesi said to her brother. “And they offer their temple as a site for mayhem! But it would not just remain there, will it? All of Cairo deserves to see what we truly have to offer!”
At Kesi’s feet was Apep who slithered between the girl and towards Amenemhat. Kesi had her plan. Some snakes went with the rest of the circus- but not all. It is time they roamed free in the streets of Cairo. They could find their home in a nice noble’s house, or perhaps a child’s bed. They seem to care so much about them, after all.
Cairo would suffer for its stupidity. The Tempest was without sin, acting under the word of their God. Nor did it desire a useless Egyptian kid when they had others that were far more interesting. Their desires, their ambitions, went beyond snatching people from their homes. They weren’t petty criminals. With Amenemhat leading them, they would rise as high as the gods themselves.
Finally, Kesi’s lips curled into a smile. It was not, however, her typical excited one. It was not filled with innocent, childlike glee. It had a sinister edge to it. Venomous like the snakes she keeps. Kesi was hungry. She was held back too long. Tonight was the night for something… different.
Anger. Excitement. Hatred. Frustration. Kesi felt it all. And all Cairo would feel is chaos.
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.
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Anger. Excitement. Hatred. Frustration.
Kesi felt it all. Her mind was firing off with different emotions as she gathered all the robes and masks. Her lips were pulled tight and serious, but the fire in her eyes was lit and burning brightly. The people of Cairo were bullies. They were horrid, rancid people who deserved nothing more than to start their journey towards the Du’at. They would make their way to Anubis for judgment only to be crushed into nonexistence. No one would make it to the Field of Reeds. They were unworthy.
Bullies… no, that wasn’t the right term for them. For these people did something worse than bullying. Who they upset was not Kesi… but her brother. And that was not something that she would allow. Pain was Kesi’s friend, suffering was not so distant memory, and that the small girl could handle. She would take all the pain, all the suffering so that it would never take hold of her brother. He deserved everything he could ever desire. And the people, the idiots sought to deny him. Accusing the circus was one thing, but creating baseless lies like stealing Egyptian children undermined her brother.
They would die and Kesi would bathe in their blood.
She wanted to burn the whole city- no the whole kingdom! But tonight, she would settle for less. Kesi would settle for turmoil. Before Amenemhat had gathered the inner cult, after the majority of the circus started making their way towards Thebes, Kesi had a small task to do. She made her way to the Temple of @set. There, she had met with the Setians. The Tempest of Set wasn’t the only cult that existed. Though the two groups may not agree on everything, the one thing they had in common was their worship of chaos. It was so easy to get them involved in their plans, and as her brother spoke Kesi handed out robes and masks provided by the Temple.
“The Setians send their regards, Ringmaster,” Kesi said to her brother. “And they offer their temple as a site for mayhem! But it would not just remain there, will it? All of Cairo deserves to see what we truly have to offer!”
At Kesi’s feet was Apep who slithered between the girl and towards Amenemhat. Kesi had her plan. Some snakes went with the rest of the circus- but not all. It is time they roamed free in the streets of Cairo. They could find their home in a nice noble’s house, or perhaps a child’s bed. They seem to care so much about them, after all.
Cairo would suffer for its stupidity. The Tempest was without sin, acting under the word of their God. Nor did it desire a useless Egyptian kid when they had others that were far more interesting. Their desires, their ambitions, went beyond snatching people from their homes. They weren’t petty criminals. With Amenemhat leading them, they would rise as high as the gods themselves.
Finally, Kesi’s lips curled into a smile. It was not, however, her typical excited one. It was not filled with innocent, childlike glee. It had a sinister edge to it. Venomous like the snakes she keeps. Kesi was hungry. She was held back too long. Tonight was the night for something… different.
Anger. Excitement. Hatred. Frustration. Kesi felt it all. And all Cairo would feel is chaos.
Anger. Excitement. Hatred. Frustration.
Kesi felt it all. Her mind was firing off with different emotions as she gathered all the robes and masks. Her lips were pulled tight and serious, but the fire in her eyes was lit and burning brightly. The people of Cairo were bullies. They were horrid, rancid people who deserved nothing more than to start their journey towards the Du’at. They would make their way to Anubis for judgment only to be crushed into nonexistence. No one would make it to the Field of Reeds. They were unworthy.
Bullies… no, that wasn’t the right term for them. For these people did something worse than bullying. Who they upset was not Kesi… but her brother. And that was not something that she would allow. Pain was Kesi’s friend, suffering was not so distant memory, and that the small girl could handle. She would take all the pain, all the suffering so that it would never take hold of her brother. He deserved everything he could ever desire. And the people, the idiots sought to deny him. Accusing the circus was one thing, but creating baseless lies like stealing Egyptian children undermined her brother.
They would die and Kesi would bathe in their blood.
She wanted to burn the whole city- no the whole kingdom! But tonight, she would settle for less. Kesi would settle for turmoil. Before Amenemhat had gathered the inner cult, after the majority of the circus started making their way towards Thebes, Kesi had a small task to do. She made her way to the Temple of @set. There, she had met with the Setians. The Tempest of Set wasn’t the only cult that existed. Though the two groups may not agree on everything, the one thing they had in common was their worship of chaos. It was so easy to get them involved in their plans, and as her brother spoke Kesi handed out robes and masks provided by the Temple.
“The Setians send their regards, Ringmaster,” Kesi said to her brother. “And they offer their temple as a site for mayhem! But it would not just remain there, will it? All of Cairo deserves to see what we truly have to offer!”
At Kesi’s feet was Apep who slithered between the girl and towards Amenemhat. Kesi had her plan. Some snakes went with the rest of the circus- but not all. It is time they roamed free in the streets of Cairo. They could find their home in a nice noble’s house, or perhaps a child’s bed. They seem to care so much about them, after all.
Cairo would suffer for its stupidity. The Tempest was without sin, acting under the word of their God. Nor did it desire a useless Egyptian kid when they had others that were far more interesting. Their desires, their ambitions, went beyond snatching people from their homes. They weren’t petty criminals. With Amenemhat leading them, they would rise as high as the gods themselves.
Finally, Kesi’s lips curled into a smile. It was not, however, her typical excited one. It was not filled with innocent, childlike glee. It had a sinister edge to it. Venomous like the snakes she keeps. Kesi was hungry. She was held back too long. Tonight was the night for something… different.
Anger. Excitement. Hatred. Frustration. Kesi felt it all. And all Cairo would feel is chaos.
One might've believed, based on his attendance within the capitol city of Cairo, that Onuphrious H'Sheifa did not take to the city like he did Thebes. The truth was an altogether more complicated thing. The Sheifa family had its roots within the former capitol of Egypt. Thebes was once the jewel of Egypt, its heart and soul, but the powers-that-be deemed it a necessary change to shift their focus to the smaller sister. Hei Sheifa, in all of its wealth and power, would not leave her roots so readily, particularly for a less advantageous port for traveling away from the nation of Egypt. While many within the nation's borders held nothing but contempt for foreigners, Onu had long dismissed such notions.
No, Onuphrious did not dwell within Cairo because it was simply not his prerogative. In the past decade or two, he'd made himself scarce within the capitol, coming only for the sake of Iaheru, and far more inclined to deviate from the politically charged nature of the capital city. The notion persisted, but was augmented by the simple reality that he was not welcome. Not by the nation at large, for who would deny such a powerful man of anything but his wife. Iaheru, the woman who blessed him with four children. Iaheru, the beauty who'd enraptured him so many years ago. Iaheru, the demonness whose anger could intimidate the sirdar of Hei Sheifa more than any pirate or any vagrant holding a knife to his throat.
But, in both the realms of family and business, Onuphrious' intentions were not always met in kind by the graces of the Gods. As with most anywhere else, business brought the sirdar back to his wife's native city. He'd met with his patronage and just made his way back from the docks, the persistent scent of salt water and fish cleansed away by a bath that included a lather of the finest soaps and kept from returning by what he considered an excessively expensive perfume that he dabbed along his wrist and throat. Bearing the signs of his noble lineage, Onuphrious wore a shendyt inlaid with gold embroidery, the insignia of his Hei expertly crafted near the tie that bound the garment to his waist. About his shoulders was a finely wrought tunic, sheer enough as to not encumber him too gravely should the weather turn towards an uncharacteristic heat, given the season.
The garbs marked him, showed to the world the gravitas that came with the name Sheifa, and the world recounted him with everything he needed -- or didn't, as often was the case -- to know. The capitol had become dangerous since his last visit, with rumours stirring about of a missing girl and the cold reality that with the absence of soldiers, crime had gone on the rise. So, Onuphrious lingered within Cairo, working up the courage to journey to his wife's home and persuade her and his children to leave with him. Not to Thebes, for the escalation of the war effort (little more than skirmishes if his understanding was correct) boded ill for moving north.
No, they'd likely retreat to Shedet, if only for a little while. The commoners of that province might live in paltry huts, but the Sheifas were their stewards and would not find such repugnant standards of living waiting for them.
In the mean time, the sirdar found himself in the presence of a growing crowd. Many began to blame the increasing crime and the disappearance on one thing: the circus. It stood to reason that the financial boon that was the Tempest of Set paired with the decrease in surveillance would create a stir of crime. It was true that these travelers bowed to the God of Chaos and were unrepentant in their single-minded worship. But, could they act so brazenly? To steal a young woman? At the news, Onuphrious imagined his youngest daughter, Nenet, in the girl's place. He envisoned Iaheru and him grieving her absence, separate in their agony. Would a vanished child reconcile their differences?
One's gone already. Two would only make it worse.
He had to do something. To take them. It seemed the only logical thing to do was to lay in with the rumours. If enough anxiety and fear was mustered, then he could appeal to Iaheru's reason and regain command of his family for long enough to keep them out of harm's way.
"It has to be them," he insisted, his calm voice shattering the white noise and bringing a modicum of peace to the unrest that brewed within the crowd. Onuphrious was a member of the council, and it seemed that those that lashed out in anger and frustration would calm themselves in the presence of a voice that agreed with them, but spoke in calming, metered tones intent on allowing sounder minds to prevail.
"I've followed the habits of the circus for long enough to know that their extended stay in Cairo is irregular to say the least. They must be planning something nefarious. Let us not stoop to their level, however, my friends. Violence does not begat peace. It will only stoke the flames and bring rise to greater conflict. Let us, peacefully, disbar them and demand the return of the lost girl, lest their time in Cairo come to an end, permanently."
Onuphrious waited, curious to see who might find the courage to speak.
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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One might've believed, based on his attendance within the capitol city of Cairo, that Onuphrious H'Sheifa did not take to the city like he did Thebes. The truth was an altogether more complicated thing. The Sheifa family had its roots within the former capitol of Egypt. Thebes was once the jewel of Egypt, its heart and soul, but the powers-that-be deemed it a necessary change to shift their focus to the smaller sister. Hei Sheifa, in all of its wealth and power, would not leave her roots so readily, particularly for a less advantageous port for traveling away from the nation of Egypt. While many within the nation's borders held nothing but contempt for foreigners, Onu had long dismissed such notions.
No, Onuphrious did not dwell within Cairo because it was simply not his prerogative. In the past decade or two, he'd made himself scarce within the capitol, coming only for the sake of Iaheru, and far more inclined to deviate from the politically charged nature of the capital city. The notion persisted, but was augmented by the simple reality that he was not welcome. Not by the nation at large, for who would deny such a powerful man of anything but his wife. Iaheru, the woman who blessed him with four children. Iaheru, the beauty who'd enraptured him so many years ago. Iaheru, the demonness whose anger could intimidate the sirdar of Hei Sheifa more than any pirate or any vagrant holding a knife to his throat.
But, in both the realms of family and business, Onuphrious' intentions were not always met in kind by the graces of the Gods. As with most anywhere else, business brought the sirdar back to his wife's native city. He'd met with his patronage and just made his way back from the docks, the persistent scent of salt water and fish cleansed away by a bath that included a lather of the finest soaps and kept from returning by what he considered an excessively expensive perfume that he dabbed along his wrist and throat. Bearing the signs of his noble lineage, Onuphrious wore a shendyt inlaid with gold embroidery, the insignia of his Hei expertly crafted near the tie that bound the garment to his waist. About his shoulders was a finely wrought tunic, sheer enough as to not encumber him too gravely should the weather turn towards an uncharacteristic heat, given the season.
The garbs marked him, showed to the world the gravitas that came with the name Sheifa, and the world recounted him with everything he needed -- or didn't, as often was the case -- to know. The capitol had become dangerous since his last visit, with rumours stirring about of a missing girl and the cold reality that with the absence of soldiers, crime had gone on the rise. So, Onuphrious lingered within Cairo, working up the courage to journey to his wife's home and persuade her and his children to leave with him. Not to Thebes, for the escalation of the war effort (little more than skirmishes if his understanding was correct) boded ill for moving north.
No, they'd likely retreat to Shedet, if only for a little while. The commoners of that province might live in paltry huts, but the Sheifas were their stewards and would not find such repugnant standards of living waiting for them.
In the mean time, the sirdar found himself in the presence of a growing crowd. Many began to blame the increasing crime and the disappearance on one thing: the circus. It stood to reason that the financial boon that was the Tempest of Set paired with the decrease in surveillance would create a stir of crime. It was true that these travelers bowed to the God of Chaos and were unrepentant in their single-minded worship. But, could they act so brazenly? To steal a young woman? At the news, Onuphrious imagined his youngest daughter, Nenet, in the girl's place. He envisoned Iaheru and him grieving her absence, separate in their agony. Would a vanished child reconcile their differences?
One's gone already. Two would only make it worse.
He had to do something. To take them. It seemed the only logical thing to do was to lay in with the rumours. If enough anxiety and fear was mustered, then he could appeal to Iaheru's reason and regain command of his family for long enough to keep them out of harm's way.
"It has to be them," he insisted, his calm voice shattering the white noise and bringing a modicum of peace to the unrest that brewed within the crowd. Onuphrious was a member of the council, and it seemed that those that lashed out in anger and frustration would calm themselves in the presence of a voice that agreed with them, but spoke in calming, metered tones intent on allowing sounder minds to prevail.
"I've followed the habits of the circus for long enough to know that their extended stay in Cairo is irregular to say the least. They must be planning something nefarious. Let us not stoop to their level, however, my friends. Violence does not begat peace. It will only stoke the flames and bring rise to greater conflict. Let us, peacefully, disbar them and demand the return of the lost girl, lest their time in Cairo come to an end, permanently."
Onuphrious waited, curious to see who might find the courage to speak.
One might've believed, based on his attendance within the capitol city of Cairo, that Onuphrious H'Sheifa did not take to the city like he did Thebes. The truth was an altogether more complicated thing. The Sheifa family had its roots within the former capitol of Egypt. Thebes was once the jewel of Egypt, its heart and soul, but the powers-that-be deemed it a necessary change to shift their focus to the smaller sister. Hei Sheifa, in all of its wealth and power, would not leave her roots so readily, particularly for a less advantageous port for traveling away from the nation of Egypt. While many within the nation's borders held nothing but contempt for foreigners, Onu had long dismissed such notions.
No, Onuphrious did not dwell within Cairo because it was simply not his prerogative. In the past decade or two, he'd made himself scarce within the capitol, coming only for the sake of Iaheru, and far more inclined to deviate from the politically charged nature of the capital city. The notion persisted, but was augmented by the simple reality that he was not welcome. Not by the nation at large, for who would deny such a powerful man of anything but his wife. Iaheru, the woman who blessed him with four children. Iaheru, the beauty who'd enraptured him so many years ago. Iaheru, the demonness whose anger could intimidate the sirdar of Hei Sheifa more than any pirate or any vagrant holding a knife to his throat.
But, in both the realms of family and business, Onuphrious' intentions were not always met in kind by the graces of the Gods. As with most anywhere else, business brought the sirdar back to his wife's native city. He'd met with his patronage and just made his way back from the docks, the persistent scent of salt water and fish cleansed away by a bath that included a lather of the finest soaps and kept from returning by what he considered an excessively expensive perfume that he dabbed along his wrist and throat. Bearing the signs of his noble lineage, Onuphrious wore a shendyt inlaid with gold embroidery, the insignia of his Hei expertly crafted near the tie that bound the garment to his waist. About his shoulders was a finely wrought tunic, sheer enough as to not encumber him too gravely should the weather turn towards an uncharacteristic heat, given the season.
The garbs marked him, showed to the world the gravitas that came with the name Sheifa, and the world recounted him with everything he needed -- or didn't, as often was the case -- to know. The capitol had become dangerous since his last visit, with rumours stirring about of a missing girl and the cold reality that with the absence of soldiers, crime had gone on the rise. So, Onuphrious lingered within Cairo, working up the courage to journey to his wife's home and persuade her and his children to leave with him. Not to Thebes, for the escalation of the war effort (little more than skirmishes if his understanding was correct) boded ill for moving north.
No, they'd likely retreat to Shedet, if only for a little while. The commoners of that province might live in paltry huts, but the Sheifas were their stewards and would not find such repugnant standards of living waiting for them.
In the mean time, the sirdar found himself in the presence of a growing crowd. Many began to blame the increasing crime and the disappearance on one thing: the circus. It stood to reason that the financial boon that was the Tempest of Set paired with the decrease in surveillance would create a stir of crime. It was true that these travelers bowed to the God of Chaos and were unrepentant in their single-minded worship. But, could they act so brazenly? To steal a young woman? At the news, Onuphrious imagined his youngest daughter, Nenet, in the girl's place. He envisoned Iaheru and him grieving her absence, separate in their agony. Would a vanished child reconcile their differences?
One's gone already. Two would only make it worse.
He had to do something. To take them. It seemed the only logical thing to do was to lay in with the rumours. If enough anxiety and fear was mustered, then he could appeal to Iaheru's reason and regain command of his family for long enough to keep them out of harm's way.
"It has to be them," he insisted, his calm voice shattering the white noise and bringing a modicum of peace to the unrest that brewed within the crowd. Onuphrious was a member of the council, and it seemed that those that lashed out in anger and frustration would calm themselves in the presence of a voice that agreed with them, but spoke in calming, metered tones intent on allowing sounder minds to prevail.
"I've followed the habits of the circus for long enough to know that their extended stay in Cairo is irregular to say the least. They must be planning something nefarious. Let us not stoop to their level, however, my friends. Violence does not begat peace. It will only stoke the flames and bring rise to greater conflict. Let us, peacefully, disbar them and demand the return of the lost girl, lest their time in Cairo come to an end, permanently."
Onuphrious waited, curious to see who might find the courage to speak.
It was purely by accident that she was out in this throng of people today, for there was little that she despised as much as gathering with the Court. And this wasn’t even Court! What was going on? Why was everyone huddled in the streets of the Ghani district like this? Frowning, Neithotep had stepped outside of her mother’s Cairo home into the glaring sunlight and the worried shouts and exclamations of so many of her neighbors.
“What’s going on?” she asked the nearest woman, gently touching her shoulder to alert the other to her presence. “Why’s everyone out here like this?”
‘You haven’t heard?’ the woman asked in seeming surprise, her eyebrows rising up into her forehead. ‘There’s a little girl missing. A distant branch of Hei Moghadam, I hear, though I’m not entirely sure. They think it’s the circus.’
“The circus?” Nia repeated, shocked. “Why would anyone think that?” Her companion shrugged and turned her attention back to the man speaking, a man Nia abruptly realized was her father.
What was he doing here? Why wasn’t he in Thebes? After her mother’s disgrace, it was rare enough to see him around the capital city, and to see him right here outside Iaheru’s house… Huh. She wondered how long he had been here, if he’d even been staying in the house and she hadn’t noticed. She did her best to stay away when she could, especially if he was around.
Her shock only grew with what he was saying, a frown furrowing her brow. Where was he getting all of this? Did he have evidence to back up what he was saying, or was this just speculation like everyone else? Where did any of them even get the idea that the circus had taken the little girl? Sure, they were a little strange, but they were a circus. What did people really expect?
“So, they’ve been here a while, and you think that makes them ‘nefarious?’” No one was more surprised than Nia herself when her voice rose above the crowd, swallowing hard when several eyes turned in her direction. Oops. Well, she had their attention now, she couldn’t just go quiet again… “Does that make travelling merchants who stay a season or three nefarious too? I like the circus. I have friends there, and they’ve always made me feel welcome every time I’ve ever visited. What makes any of you think they’re stealing kids?”
The young noblewoman’s heart was pounding in her chest as she defensively crossed her arms, desperately trying to appear calmer than she actually was. What was she doing? Since when did she try to make herself noticed around these people? More often than not, Nia was conspicuously absent from the Court, and if she did attend, she made herself scarce. Why was she speaking now?
Maybe it was just because it was Onuphrious who was speaking out against the Tempest of Set. She and her father were at odds during the best of times, and these past few months certainly hadn’t been that. She couldn’t just stand here and watch him make baseless accusations against an entire group just because he didn’t trust them. He would start a mob with that kind of talk, and is that what they really needed with so many of their men off to war? What was he thinking?
“I think we all might be overreacting a little. It’s Cairo. Bad things happen, and they happened before the circus ever stepped foot here. They’ll continue happening when they’re gone. What should we peg the blame on them?”
She was going to regret this, she knew. Fuck, she already did. But, too late to take it back now. She was right, anyway. Where were they getting this stuff?
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It was purely by accident that she was out in this throng of people today, for there was little that she despised as much as gathering with the Court. And this wasn’t even Court! What was going on? Why was everyone huddled in the streets of the Ghani district like this? Frowning, Neithotep had stepped outside of her mother’s Cairo home into the glaring sunlight and the worried shouts and exclamations of so many of her neighbors.
“What’s going on?” she asked the nearest woman, gently touching her shoulder to alert the other to her presence. “Why’s everyone out here like this?”
‘You haven’t heard?’ the woman asked in seeming surprise, her eyebrows rising up into her forehead. ‘There’s a little girl missing. A distant branch of Hei Moghadam, I hear, though I’m not entirely sure. They think it’s the circus.’
“The circus?” Nia repeated, shocked. “Why would anyone think that?” Her companion shrugged and turned her attention back to the man speaking, a man Nia abruptly realized was her father.
What was he doing here? Why wasn’t he in Thebes? After her mother’s disgrace, it was rare enough to see him around the capital city, and to see him right here outside Iaheru’s house… Huh. She wondered how long he had been here, if he’d even been staying in the house and she hadn’t noticed. She did her best to stay away when she could, especially if he was around.
Her shock only grew with what he was saying, a frown furrowing her brow. Where was he getting all of this? Did he have evidence to back up what he was saying, or was this just speculation like everyone else? Where did any of them even get the idea that the circus had taken the little girl? Sure, they were a little strange, but they were a circus. What did people really expect?
“So, they’ve been here a while, and you think that makes them ‘nefarious?’” No one was more surprised than Nia herself when her voice rose above the crowd, swallowing hard when several eyes turned in her direction. Oops. Well, she had their attention now, she couldn’t just go quiet again… “Does that make travelling merchants who stay a season or three nefarious too? I like the circus. I have friends there, and they’ve always made me feel welcome every time I’ve ever visited. What makes any of you think they’re stealing kids?”
The young noblewoman’s heart was pounding in her chest as she defensively crossed her arms, desperately trying to appear calmer than she actually was. What was she doing? Since when did she try to make herself noticed around these people? More often than not, Nia was conspicuously absent from the Court, and if she did attend, she made herself scarce. Why was she speaking now?
Maybe it was just because it was Onuphrious who was speaking out against the Tempest of Set. She and her father were at odds during the best of times, and these past few months certainly hadn’t been that. She couldn’t just stand here and watch him make baseless accusations against an entire group just because he didn’t trust them. He would start a mob with that kind of talk, and is that what they really needed with so many of their men off to war? What was he thinking?
“I think we all might be overreacting a little. It’s Cairo. Bad things happen, and they happened before the circus ever stepped foot here. They’ll continue happening when they’re gone. What should we peg the blame on them?”
She was going to regret this, she knew. Fuck, she already did. But, too late to take it back now. She was right, anyway. Where were they getting this stuff?
It was purely by accident that she was out in this throng of people today, for there was little that she despised as much as gathering with the Court. And this wasn’t even Court! What was going on? Why was everyone huddled in the streets of the Ghani district like this? Frowning, Neithotep had stepped outside of her mother’s Cairo home into the glaring sunlight and the worried shouts and exclamations of so many of her neighbors.
“What’s going on?” she asked the nearest woman, gently touching her shoulder to alert the other to her presence. “Why’s everyone out here like this?”
‘You haven’t heard?’ the woman asked in seeming surprise, her eyebrows rising up into her forehead. ‘There’s a little girl missing. A distant branch of Hei Moghadam, I hear, though I’m not entirely sure. They think it’s the circus.’
“The circus?” Nia repeated, shocked. “Why would anyone think that?” Her companion shrugged and turned her attention back to the man speaking, a man Nia abruptly realized was her father.
What was he doing here? Why wasn’t he in Thebes? After her mother’s disgrace, it was rare enough to see him around the capital city, and to see him right here outside Iaheru’s house… Huh. She wondered how long he had been here, if he’d even been staying in the house and she hadn’t noticed. She did her best to stay away when she could, especially if he was around.
Her shock only grew with what he was saying, a frown furrowing her brow. Where was he getting all of this? Did he have evidence to back up what he was saying, or was this just speculation like everyone else? Where did any of them even get the idea that the circus had taken the little girl? Sure, they were a little strange, but they were a circus. What did people really expect?
“So, they’ve been here a while, and you think that makes them ‘nefarious?’” No one was more surprised than Nia herself when her voice rose above the crowd, swallowing hard when several eyes turned in her direction. Oops. Well, she had their attention now, she couldn’t just go quiet again… “Does that make travelling merchants who stay a season or three nefarious too? I like the circus. I have friends there, and they’ve always made me feel welcome every time I’ve ever visited. What makes any of you think they’re stealing kids?”
The young noblewoman’s heart was pounding in her chest as she defensively crossed her arms, desperately trying to appear calmer than she actually was. What was she doing? Since when did she try to make herself noticed around these people? More often than not, Nia was conspicuously absent from the Court, and if she did attend, she made herself scarce. Why was she speaking now?
Maybe it was just because it was Onuphrious who was speaking out against the Tempest of Set. She and her father were at odds during the best of times, and these past few months certainly hadn’t been that. She couldn’t just stand here and watch him make baseless accusations against an entire group just because he didn’t trust them. He would start a mob with that kind of talk, and is that what they really needed with so many of their men off to war? What was he thinking?
“I think we all might be overreacting a little. It’s Cairo. Bad things happen, and they happened before the circus ever stepped foot here. They’ll continue happening when they’re gone. What should we peg the blame on them?”
She was going to regret this, she knew. Fuck, she already did. But, too late to take it back now. She was right, anyway. Where were they getting this stuff?
Azarion couldn’t recall a time that he had ever questioned Nem’s choices, nor did he think he would ever question his leader. There was an unhealthy obsession with his leader, following him unquestioning in his choices and motives. While some followed because they believed Nem godly, believe Set smiled upon him, or what ever it was, Azarion did not believe in the Gods of these lands. Yet despite that, he followed Nem with as much passion, or perhaps even more, than some of the others.
So he stood in the meeting, and while he didn’t have his usual hyenas with him, it would be very out of character for Azarion to not at least have one animal with him. This time, it was a baby crocodile, the thing had been hatched only a few short days ago. His arms were crossed in front of him, the tiny reptile lounging on his large forearm, soaking up the warmth of his body heat as Azarion listened intently to his leader.
Doing things quietly? Well that wasn’t exactly Azarions strong point, but if Nem needed him, he would do his best. He couldn’t disappoint the man, he wouldn’t disappoint him.
As Kesi handed out robes and masks, Azarion took what he was handed, the baby croc clung to his arm, letting out a little chirping noise as he moved his arm to take the robe and mask. He tucked them under his arm for the moment, not putting them on yet. He wanted his full instructions before he did anything.
Azarion was a strong man, he was confident, and he normally took charge of his own actions. But when it came down to it, he served Nem and what ever Nem wanted done. This time, he was not going to make his own decisions, he was going to follow the word of the man who had given him a home, who had accepted him, his animals and the man that Azarion loved when there had been no one else and no where for them to go.
Azarion owed Nem everything, and as such, the man was one of the most loyal followers he had. He would do anything Nem wanted.
For now, it seemed Nem needed him to listen, and so the foreign man stood there and listened.
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Azarion couldn’t recall a time that he had ever questioned Nem’s choices, nor did he think he would ever question his leader. There was an unhealthy obsession with his leader, following him unquestioning in his choices and motives. While some followed because they believed Nem godly, believe Set smiled upon him, or what ever it was, Azarion did not believe in the Gods of these lands. Yet despite that, he followed Nem with as much passion, or perhaps even more, than some of the others.
So he stood in the meeting, and while he didn’t have his usual hyenas with him, it would be very out of character for Azarion to not at least have one animal with him. This time, it was a baby crocodile, the thing had been hatched only a few short days ago. His arms were crossed in front of him, the tiny reptile lounging on his large forearm, soaking up the warmth of his body heat as Azarion listened intently to his leader.
Doing things quietly? Well that wasn’t exactly Azarions strong point, but if Nem needed him, he would do his best. He couldn’t disappoint the man, he wouldn’t disappoint him.
As Kesi handed out robes and masks, Azarion took what he was handed, the baby croc clung to his arm, letting out a little chirping noise as he moved his arm to take the robe and mask. He tucked them under his arm for the moment, not putting them on yet. He wanted his full instructions before he did anything.
Azarion was a strong man, he was confident, and he normally took charge of his own actions. But when it came down to it, he served Nem and what ever Nem wanted done. This time, he was not going to make his own decisions, he was going to follow the word of the man who had given him a home, who had accepted him, his animals and the man that Azarion loved when there had been no one else and no where for them to go.
Azarion owed Nem everything, and as such, the man was one of the most loyal followers he had. He would do anything Nem wanted.
For now, it seemed Nem needed him to listen, and so the foreign man stood there and listened.
Azarion couldn’t recall a time that he had ever questioned Nem’s choices, nor did he think he would ever question his leader. There was an unhealthy obsession with his leader, following him unquestioning in his choices and motives. While some followed because they believed Nem godly, believe Set smiled upon him, or what ever it was, Azarion did not believe in the Gods of these lands. Yet despite that, he followed Nem with as much passion, or perhaps even more, than some of the others.
So he stood in the meeting, and while he didn’t have his usual hyenas with him, it would be very out of character for Azarion to not at least have one animal with him. This time, it was a baby crocodile, the thing had been hatched only a few short days ago. His arms were crossed in front of him, the tiny reptile lounging on his large forearm, soaking up the warmth of his body heat as Azarion listened intently to his leader.
Doing things quietly? Well that wasn’t exactly Azarions strong point, but if Nem needed him, he would do his best. He couldn’t disappoint the man, he wouldn’t disappoint him.
As Kesi handed out robes and masks, Azarion took what he was handed, the baby croc clung to his arm, letting out a little chirping noise as he moved his arm to take the robe and mask. He tucked them under his arm for the moment, not putting them on yet. He wanted his full instructions before he did anything.
Azarion was a strong man, he was confident, and he normally took charge of his own actions. But when it came down to it, he served Nem and what ever Nem wanted done. This time, he was not going to make his own decisions, he was going to follow the word of the man who had given him a home, who had accepted him, his animals and the man that Azarion loved when there had been no one else and no where for them to go.
Azarion owed Nem everything, and as such, the man was one of the most loyal followers he had. He would do anything Nem wanted.
For now, it seemed Nem needed him to listen, and so the foreign man stood there and listened.
Of course the Tempest of Set would be blamed. Feiyan had noticed it time and time again. At first, the circus was unique and exciting, but eventually people stopped coming, perhaps because the newness wore off. There were die-hard fans, of course, but they were the minority. When its popularity declined, the accusations began. There were quite a few thieves in the group, and they had probably done their fair share of stealing, but she was certain that enterprising local thieves had used the presence of the circus to hide behind. It was even possible that the nobility fabricated some of the thefts to get compensation for the items they had supposedly lost. Maybe that was how they increased their wealth.
Nobody in her circus family would kidnap an innocent young girl, or even one who was not so innocent. Cairo needed to blame somebody and the Tempest of Set was fair game. Their very name implied that they worshiped the god of chaos, so of course they would take every opportunity to cause it. There were a lot of foreigners in their ranks that might seem suspicious, including herself. Her exotic appearance was commented on (some positive and some negative) by almost everyone who saw her. The performers also lived by a different set of rules than most Egyptians. Nobody trusted what they didn’t understand. It was past time that the circus moved on.
Feiyan was practicing a new routine when she heard about the crowd that had gathered in the streets throwing allegations at the circus. How dare they? she thought as she performed a perfect arial. They should look to their own rather than blame us. She wanted to do something about it, but she wasn’t certain what. Too angry to continue .. because strong emotions often led to accidents … she left the tent and headed to her own. As she passed the ringmaster’s tent, she heard him inciting whomever was with him to act against their accusers, She agreed wholeheartedly.
And now she knew exactly how to cause chaos of her own. Entering her tent, she fetched the basket she carried her scorpions in and then went over to the corner where she kept them. One cage contained the deadly ones that provided Kesi with venom for her poisons, and the others contained the harmless scorpions and those that only sickened people with their venom. Feiyan had quite a lot of them, having collected them since she was sixteen. None of her original scorpions were still living, as they had rather short lifespans, but reproduction ensured that she had plenty more to take their place. Generally, she used them to play pranks and scare promising acrobats away. Today’s prank would be the biggest of all.
Feiyan carefully chose the non-lethal scorpions she planned on taking with her, placing them in the basket and closing the lid. Now she needed to decide what to wear. Thanks to her many admirers, she had some luxurious clothing and expensive jewelry. While she preferred to walk around nude, today she needed to fit in, so she chose a beautiful white linen kalisaris, accented by a golden beaded collar, arm bands, and earrings. She braided her long raven hair and coiled it on top of her head, then put on a plain white half-mask to conceal the unusual shape of her eyes. The finishing touch was a white scarf embroidered with gold that covered her hair and hid most of the mask.
Picking up the basket, she slid the handle over one arm and to the crook of her elbow. She cold hear the scorpions scrabbling inside. Soon they would be free when she let them go one by one in different parts of the crowd so that the narrow-minded nobles would think the streets had been infested with scorpions.
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Of course the Tempest of Set would be blamed. Feiyan had noticed it time and time again. At first, the circus was unique and exciting, but eventually people stopped coming, perhaps because the newness wore off. There were die-hard fans, of course, but they were the minority. When its popularity declined, the accusations began. There were quite a few thieves in the group, and they had probably done their fair share of stealing, but she was certain that enterprising local thieves had used the presence of the circus to hide behind. It was even possible that the nobility fabricated some of the thefts to get compensation for the items they had supposedly lost. Maybe that was how they increased their wealth.
Nobody in her circus family would kidnap an innocent young girl, or even one who was not so innocent. Cairo needed to blame somebody and the Tempest of Set was fair game. Their very name implied that they worshiped the god of chaos, so of course they would take every opportunity to cause it. There were a lot of foreigners in their ranks that might seem suspicious, including herself. Her exotic appearance was commented on (some positive and some negative) by almost everyone who saw her. The performers also lived by a different set of rules than most Egyptians. Nobody trusted what they didn’t understand. It was past time that the circus moved on.
Feiyan was practicing a new routine when she heard about the crowd that had gathered in the streets throwing allegations at the circus. How dare they? she thought as she performed a perfect arial. They should look to their own rather than blame us. She wanted to do something about it, but she wasn’t certain what. Too angry to continue .. because strong emotions often led to accidents … she left the tent and headed to her own. As she passed the ringmaster’s tent, she heard him inciting whomever was with him to act against their accusers, She agreed wholeheartedly.
And now she knew exactly how to cause chaos of her own. Entering her tent, she fetched the basket she carried her scorpions in and then went over to the corner where she kept them. One cage contained the deadly ones that provided Kesi with venom for her poisons, and the others contained the harmless scorpions and those that only sickened people with their venom. Feiyan had quite a lot of them, having collected them since she was sixteen. None of her original scorpions were still living, as they had rather short lifespans, but reproduction ensured that she had plenty more to take their place. Generally, she used them to play pranks and scare promising acrobats away. Today’s prank would be the biggest of all.
Feiyan carefully chose the non-lethal scorpions she planned on taking with her, placing them in the basket and closing the lid. Now she needed to decide what to wear. Thanks to her many admirers, she had some luxurious clothing and expensive jewelry. While she preferred to walk around nude, today she needed to fit in, so she chose a beautiful white linen kalisaris, accented by a golden beaded collar, arm bands, and earrings. She braided her long raven hair and coiled it on top of her head, then put on a plain white half-mask to conceal the unusual shape of her eyes. The finishing touch was a white scarf embroidered with gold that covered her hair and hid most of the mask.
Picking up the basket, she slid the handle over one arm and to the crook of her elbow. She cold hear the scorpions scrabbling inside. Soon they would be free when she let them go one by one in different parts of the crowd so that the narrow-minded nobles would think the streets had been infested with scorpions.
Of course the Tempest of Set would be blamed. Feiyan had noticed it time and time again. At first, the circus was unique and exciting, but eventually people stopped coming, perhaps because the newness wore off. There were die-hard fans, of course, but they were the minority. When its popularity declined, the accusations began. There were quite a few thieves in the group, and they had probably done their fair share of stealing, but she was certain that enterprising local thieves had used the presence of the circus to hide behind. It was even possible that the nobility fabricated some of the thefts to get compensation for the items they had supposedly lost. Maybe that was how they increased their wealth.
Nobody in her circus family would kidnap an innocent young girl, or even one who was not so innocent. Cairo needed to blame somebody and the Tempest of Set was fair game. Their very name implied that they worshiped the god of chaos, so of course they would take every opportunity to cause it. There were a lot of foreigners in their ranks that might seem suspicious, including herself. Her exotic appearance was commented on (some positive and some negative) by almost everyone who saw her. The performers also lived by a different set of rules than most Egyptians. Nobody trusted what they didn’t understand. It was past time that the circus moved on.
Feiyan was practicing a new routine when she heard about the crowd that had gathered in the streets throwing allegations at the circus. How dare they? she thought as she performed a perfect arial. They should look to their own rather than blame us. She wanted to do something about it, but she wasn’t certain what. Too angry to continue .. because strong emotions often led to accidents … she left the tent and headed to her own. As she passed the ringmaster’s tent, she heard him inciting whomever was with him to act against their accusers, She agreed wholeheartedly.
And now she knew exactly how to cause chaos of her own. Entering her tent, she fetched the basket she carried her scorpions in and then went over to the corner where she kept them. One cage contained the deadly ones that provided Kesi with venom for her poisons, and the others contained the harmless scorpions and those that only sickened people with their venom. Feiyan had quite a lot of them, having collected them since she was sixteen. None of her original scorpions were still living, as they had rather short lifespans, but reproduction ensured that she had plenty more to take their place. Generally, she used them to play pranks and scare promising acrobats away. Today’s prank would be the biggest of all.
Feiyan carefully chose the non-lethal scorpions she planned on taking with her, placing them in the basket and closing the lid. Now she needed to decide what to wear. Thanks to her many admirers, she had some luxurious clothing and expensive jewelry. While she preferred to walk around nude, today she needed to fit in, so she chose a beautiful white linen kalisaris, accented by a golden beaded collar, arm bands, and earrings. She braided her long raven hair and coiled it on top of her head, then put on a plain white half-mask to conceal the unusual shape of her eyes. The finishing touch was a white scarf embroidered with gold that covered her hair and hid most of the mask.
Picking up the basket, she slid the handle over one arm and to the crook of her elbow. She cold hear the scorpions scrabbling inside. Soon they would be free when she let them go one by one in different parts of the crowd so that the narrow-minded nobles would think the streets had been infested with scorpions.
It wasn't often that Iaheru concerned herself with the whims of Cairo. She was perfectly fine atop her terrace, looking down on those that could not afford her luxuries. It was with an upturned nose that she made her judgements, of course she had risen to a station above the dirty sandals that strode below her, the horses cloaked in sigils lesser. There was nothing wrong with being better than the best of those in Cairo. Despite her recent tarnishing, those who had the privilege to gaze upon the Lady Iaheru making her assessments from the ledge knew it was so.
But today. Today of all days. A day where her cooks had set the table with her favorite meal, a pistachio crusted lamb roast, a goblet of wine resting parallel to the plate. Yes, today. There had to be unrest she could not ignore. Even on one of her days away from the storehouses.
After picking the lamb out of her teeth with a golden knife, she wraps her hair in a fine cloth. Her retainer pins the headwrap in with long, golden picks and dresses the Sirdsett in evening attire, ochre that nearly matches her skin and compliments the carmine of her lips. There was never a better time to assert her wealth, her prominence in the air of anger, perhaps she would contribute to the air of rage.
He loyal guard informs her of the situation at hand. So, the circus had overstayed their welcome? And a swirl of a girl gone missing. Her retainer affixes Sutekh's golden collar to her clavicle and laces the Sirdsett's sturdier sandals. Intriguing indeed.
Escorted by her guard, it wasn't long before she spotted Onuphrious and Neithotep, no doubt arguing. It was all a Sheifa was good for.
She caught the tails of Neithotep's arguments. "Ah," she mused, traipsing to adjoin the two with a hand on her hip. Her dress matched the dirt of the road, blending in with the mudbrick of lesser homes. It was a shame that not every home on this stretch was adorned with marble, but it only made her home that much brighter and enticing. "You like the circus? You like a lot of things that aren't good for you."
"Your father and I can wrangle a few wayward merchants, and that we have. These people are motivated in excess of reason, that's what makes them unwelcome..."
"Cairo is my home of homes. Bad things have always happened," Iaheru trailed off, adjusting the thick gold that nearly choked her. The guard moves in tandem with her, anticipating every move and keeping his head on a swivel. "The city always regulates itself, and these outsiders ought to be reminded."
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It wasn't often that Iaheru concerned herself with the whims of Cairo. She was perfectly fine atop her terrace, looking down on those that could not afford her luxuries. It was with an upturned nose that she made her judgements, of course she had risen to a station above the dirty sandals that strode below her, the horses cloaked in sigils lesser. There was nothing wrong with being better than the best of those in Cairo. Despite her recent tarnishing, those who had the privilege to gaze upon the Lady Iaheru making her assessments from the ledge knew it was so.
But today. Today of all days. A day where her cooks had set the table with her favorite meal, a pistachio crusted lamb roast, a goblet of wine resting parallel to the plate. Yes, today. There had to be unrest she could not ignore. Even on one of her days away from the storehouses.
After picking the lamb out of her teeth with a golden knife, she wraps her hair in a fine cloth. Her retainer pins the headwrap in with long, golden picks and dresses the Sirdsett in evening attire, ochre that nearly matches her skin and compliments the carmine of her lips. There was never a better time to assert her wealth, her prominence in the air of anger, perhaps she would contribute to the air of rage.
He loyal guard informs her of the situation at hand. So, the circus had overstayed their welcome? And a swirl of a girl gone missing. Her retainer affixes Sutekh's golden collar to her clavicle and laces the Sirdsett's sturdier sandals. Intriguing indeed.
Escorted by her guard, it wasn't long before she spotted Onuphrious and Neithotep, no doubt arguing. It was all a Sheifa was good for.
She caught the tails of Neithotep's arguments. "Ah," she mused, traipsing to adjoin the two with a hand on her hip. Her dress matched the dirt of the road, blending in with the mudbrick of lesser homes. It was a shame that not every home on this stretch was adorned with marble, but it only made her home that much brighter and enticing. "You like the circus? You like a lot of things that aren't good for you."
"Your father and I can wrangle a few wayward merchants, and that we have. These people are motivated in excess of reason, that's what makes them unwelcome..."
"Cairo is my home of homes. Bad things have always happened," Iaheru trailed off, adjusting the thick gold that nearly choked her. The guard moves in tandem with her, anticipating every move and keeping his head on a swivel. "The city always regulates itself, and these outsiders ought to be reminded."
It wasn't often that Iaheru concerned herself with the whims of Cairo. She was perfectly fine atop her terrace, looking down on those that could not afford her luxuries. It was with an upturned nose that she made her judgements, of course she had risen to a station above the dirty sandals that strode below her, the horses cloaked in sigils lesser. There was nothing wrong with being better than the best of those in Cairo. Despite her recent tarnishing, those who had the privilege to gaze upon the Lady Iaheru making her assessments from the ledge knew it was so.
But today. Today of all days. A day where her cooks had set the table with her favorite meal, a pistachio crusted lamb roast, a goblet of wine resting parallel to the plate. Yes, today. There had to be unrest she could not ignore. Even on one of her days away from the storehouses.
After picking the lamb out of her teeth with a golden knife, she wraps her hair in a fine cloth. Her retainer pins the headwrap in with long, golden picks and dresses the Sirdsett in evening attire, ochre that nearly matches her skin and compliments the carmine of her lips. There was never a better time to assert her wealth, her prominence in the air of anger, perhaps she would contribute to the air of rage.
He loyal guard informs her of the situation at hand. So, the circus had overstayed their welcome? And a swirl of a girl gone missing. Her retainer affixes Sutekh's golden collar to her clavicle and laces the Sirdsett's sturdier sandals. Intriguing indeed.
Escorted by her guard, it wasn't long before she spotted Onuphrious and Neithotep, no doubt arguing. It was all a Sheifa was good for.
She caught the tails of Neithotep's arguments. "Ah," she mused, traipsing to adjoin the two with a hand on her hip. Her dress matched the dirt of the road, blending in with the mudbrick of lesser homes. It was a shame that not every home on this stretch was adorned with marble, but it only made her home that much brighter and enticing. "You like the circus? You like a lot of things that aren't good for you."
"Your father and I can wrangle a few wayward merchants, and that we have. These people are motivated in excess of reason, that's what makes them unwelcome..."
"Cairo is my home of homes. Bad things have always happened," Iaheru trailed off, adjusting the thick gold that nearly choked her. The guard moves in tandem with her, anticipating every move and keeping his head on a swivel. "The city always regulates itself, and these outsiders ought to be reminded."
Unaware that her parents and elder sister were in the crowd, Nenet was fighting to find a way out of it. She’d come to the market to look for paints and then, like a moron, she’d thought to go near the circus. They weren’t performing this early but maybe some of their freaks were about. Nenet so rarely had curiosity to wander but today cured it. She and her manservant had not come far before she noticed that there was quite the crowd nearer to the circus. A crowd she was now stuck in.
Touching the manservant’s arm, she looked up at him and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. The paint pots clinked together through their individual wrappings. “I w-w-w-wan-nt-t t-t-to g-g-g-g-go h-h-home,” she told him with as much dignity as she could muster but he only shook his head and gestured around them.
”Can’t, my lady. We need to get to safety. This crowd’s getting restless.” What did he mean by telling her they couldn’t get home? She stood on her tiptoes but couldn’t see over the heads around her. Then, without warning, someone picked her up by the hips and lifted her straight up in the air. Nenet yelped and reached out to her manservant but he wasn’t able to get to her. The crowd closed around him.
She grasped the wrists of the stranger her held her and kept her body tense and straight, afraid to be dropped at this point. A sea of faces looked up at her as the man began to shout. She looked around, trying to locate anyone she knew. Her servant had all but disappeared by now. “P-p-p-p-p-p-put m-mm-m-mm-m-mee d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-down!” her voice was completely drowned out by the roaring of the crowd and then she was carried along. She screamed.
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Unaware that her parents and elder sister were in the crowd, Nenet was fighting to find a way out of it. She’d come to the market to look for paints and then, like a moron, she’d thought to go near the circus. They weren’t performing this early but maybe some of their freaks were about. Nenet so rarely had curiosity to wander but today cured it. She and her manservant had not come far before she noticed that there was quite the crowd nearer to the circus. A crowd she was now stuck in.
Touching the manservant’s arm, she looked up at him and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. The paint pots clinked together through their individual wrappings. “I w-w-w-wan-nt-t t-t-to g-g-g-g-go h-h-home,” she told him with as much dignity as she could muster but he only shook his head and gestured around them.
”Can’t, my lady. We need to get to safety. This crowd’s getting restless.” What did he mean by telling her they couldn’t get home? She stood on her tiptoes but couldn’t see over the heads around her. Then, without warning, someone picked her up by the hips and lifted her straight up in the air. Nenet yelped and reached out to her manservant but he wasn’t able to get to her. The crowd closed around him.
She grasped the wrists of the stranger her held her and kept her body tense and straight, afraid to be dropped at this point. A sea of faces looked up at her as the man began to shout. She looked around, trying to locate anyone she knew. Her servant had all but disappeared by now. “P-p-p-p-p-p-put m-mm-m-mm-m-mee d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-down!” her voice was completely drowned out by the roaring of the crowd and then she was carried along. She screamed.
Unaware that her parents and elder sister were in the crowd, Nenet was fighting to find a way out of it. She’d come to the market to look for paints and then, like a moron, she’d thought to go near the circus. They weren’t performing this early but maybe some of their freaks were about. Nenet so rarely had curiosity to wander but today cured it. She and her manservant had not come far before she noticed that there was quite the crowd nearer to the circus. A crowd she was now stuck in.
Touching the manservant’s arm, she looked up at him and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. The paint pots clinked together through their individual wrappings. “I w-w-w-wan-nt-t t-t-to g-g-g-g-go h-h-home,” she told him with as much dignity as she could muster but he only shook his head and gestured around them.
”Can’t, my lady. We need to get to safety. This crowd’s getting restless.” What did he mean by telling her they couldn’t get home? She stood on her tiptoes but couldn’t see over the heads around her. Then, without warning, someone picked her up by the hips and lifted her straight up in the air. Nenet yelped and reached out to her manservant but he wasn’t able to get to her. The crowd closed around him.
She grasped the wrists of the stranger her held her and kept her body tense and straight, afraid to be dropped at this point. A sea of faces looked up at her as the man began to shout. She looked around, trying to locate anyone she knew. Her servant had all but disappeared by now. “P-p-p-p-p-p-put m-mm-m-mm-m-mee d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-down!” her voice was completely drowned out by the roaring of the crowd and then she was carried along. She screamed.
Curveball Opportunity Knocks
The man whose picked up Nenet is the uncle of the girl who was taken. Seeing the noble woman there, his grief and rage get the better of him. Seizing @nenet by her waist, he lifts her up as an example to the others. "Look! She could be your daughter! She could be your sister!" Others agree and within a few seconds, the mob is moving at the war cry of the grieved man. Nenet is taken along for the ride as the crowd surges towards the circus members. @amenemhat, @issi, @feiyan, and @azarion better make ready.
Around @iaheru, @neithotep, and @onuphrious, word spreads that Neithotep is the one that was stolen from her bed and that @nefertaari is the one being taken towards the circus, at the circus's request. Rumors swirl and most of them are wrong but the crowd is riotous and Nenet is danger, from either the men who don't care about anything but using her as a symbol, or possibly from the circus members themselves who are now on the defensive.
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The man whose picked up Nenet is the uncle of the girl who was taken. Seeing the noble woman there, his grief and rage get the better of him. Seizing @nenet by her waist, he lifts her up as an example to the others. "Look! She could be your daughter! She could be your sister!" Others agree and within a few seconds, the mob is moving at the war cry of the grieved man. Nenet is taken along for the ride as the crowd surges towards the circus members. @amenemhat, @issi, @feiyan, and @azarion better make ready.
Around @iaheru, @neithotep, and @onuphrious, word spreads that Neithotep is the one that was stolen from her bed and that @nefertaari is the one being taken towards the circus, at the circus's request. Rumors swirl and most of them are wrong but the crowd is riotous and Nenet is danger, from either the men who don't care about anything but using her as a symbol, or possibly from the circus members themselves who are now on the defensive.
Curveball Opportunity Knocks
The man whose picked up Nenet is the uncle of the girl who was taken. Seeing the noble woman there, his grief and rage get the better of him. Seizing @nenet by her waist, he lifts her up as an example to the others. "Look! She could be your daughter! She could be your sister!" Others agree and within a few seconds, the mob is moving at the war cry of the grieved man. Nenet is taken along for the ride as the crowd surges towards the circus members. @amenemhat, @issi, @feiyan, and @azarion better make ready.
Around @iaheru, @neithotep, and @onuphrious, word spreads that Neithotep is the one that was stolen from her bed and that @nefertaari is the one being taken towards the circus, at the circus's request. Rumors swirl and most of them are wrong but the crowd is riotous and Nenet is danger, from either the men who don't care about anything but using her as a symbol, or possibly from the circus members themselves who are now on the defensive.
Nefertaari was already nearer to the circus folk, so it wasn’t her they carried away. She’d dressed down today, hoping to go entirely unnoticed by her family. They had a way of mucking things up, with all their infighting and Nef preferred laughter and cheer.
The noble woman watched as a crowd rushed toward the circus. She was just about to approach the group in question when suddenly there was a shift in the atmosphere. Some poor broad was caught in their grasp, and it looked like they were carrying her sister—wait, her sister?!
“Oh no,” Nef groaned before she suddenly turned on her heel and went straight for the men carrying Nenet toward them. It had to be her because it definitely wasn’t Neithotep. She shouldered her way through, easily squeezing between people to rescue her. It meant coming face to face with the man that grabbed her, but Nef was all right with that. She came face to face with the man that shouted how it could be someone’s sister.
“You’re some kind of dumb, aren’t you?” the apparent commoner said to the man, her gaze fixed on Nenet.
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Nefertaari was already nearer to the circus folk, so it wasn’t her they carried away. She’d dressed down today, hoping to go entirely unnoticed by her family. They had a way of mucking things up, with all their infighting and Nef preferred laughter and cheer.
The noble woman watched as a crowd rushed toward the circus. She was just about to approach the group in question when suddenly there was a shift in the atmosphere. Some poor broad was caught in their grasp, and it looked like they were carrying her sister—wait, her sister?!
“Oh no,” Nef groaned before she suddenly turned on her heel and went straight for the men carrying Nenet toward them. It had to be her because it definitely wasn’t Neithotep. She shouldered her way through, easily squeezing between people to rescue her. It meant coming face to face with the man that grabbed her, but Nef was all right with that. She came face to face with the man that shouted how it could be someone’s sister.
“You’re some kind of dumb, aren’t you?” the apparent commoner said to the man, her gaze fixed on Nenet.
Nefertaari was already nearer to the circus folk, so it wasn’t her they carried away. She’d dressed down today, hoping to go entirely unnoticed by her family. They had a way of mucking things up, with all their infighting and Nef preferred laughter and cheer.
The noble woman watched as a crowd rushed toward the circus. She was just about to approach the group in question when suddenly there was a shift in the atmosphere. Some poor broad was caught in their grasp, and it looked like they were carrying her sister—wait, her sister?!
“Oh no,” Nef groaned before she suddenly turned on her heel and went straight for the men carrying Nenet toward them. It had to be her because it definitely wasn’t Neithotep. She shouldered her way through, easily squeezing between people to rescue her. It meant coming face to face with the man that grabbed her, but Nef was all right with that. She came face to face with the man that shouted how it could be someone’s sister.
“You’re some kind of dumb, aren’t you?” the apparent commoner said to the man, her gaze fixed on Nenet.
As if to make matters even worse, it was then her mother appeared, Nia turning to face the woman with a look of pure irritation. Her excuses of why the circus must be ousted practically echoed her father’s, and for a moment, she thought how well made they were for each other, estrangement or no. Yes, continue to stir up suspicion and resentment without any proof. Rile up the mob forming barely outside the walls of your own home. This will surely end well.
Unfortunately, far too many members of the crowd seemed to agree with her parents over her, and Nia glanced helplessly between Iaheru, Onuphrious, and the nobles surrounding them. “But they haven’t done anything,” she insisted in a tone bordering on desperate, wary of the surge of anger rippling through the crowd. “What do they need to be regulated for? What proof do any of you have that they’ve done anything?”
Her words fell on deaf ears, and while Nia was frustrated, she was not surprised. The young woman’s reputation always preceded her, and these people were never inclined to listen to her words even on a good day. The Sirdar and Sirdsett H’Sheifa held far more sway than she ever would, and normally that was fine with her. But today? Today, it was going to be nothing but trouble.
Dread sat like a rock in her stomach as the crowd’s anger only rose, shouts that she was the one stolen from her bed spreading around her as if she were invisible. First, murmurs of a Moghadam relative, and now they believed it was her that was missing? After she had just spoken to them…?
“What are you all talking about?!” she shouted in confusion, her words quickly snatched away in the rising tumult. “I’m right here!”
Helplessly, she looked around as she was ignored, the crowd rallying to the battle cry and shoving forward. Eyes as wide as saucers, she looked between her parents, yelling, “Mother, Father, stop them! Tell them they’re wrong!”
It was then she heard further shouts, shouts that Nefertaari had been plucked out of the crowd and was being carried off toward the circus. What were these people talking about?! Nefertaari wasn’t even here. She and her sisters had grown up in the Ghani district, among the very courtiers who now didn’t even seem to recognize them. What was going on?
Growling in annoyance, she pushed her way through the crowd as well as she could, craning to see over their heads and figure out who it really was that had supposedly been carried off. Could she even trust that was true, with all the wild speculation floating around today?
Finally, she did manage to catch a glimpse of a woman being carried above the others, and if she wasn’t mistaken…
Oh no. Gods, no. That wasn’t… Nenet?
“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath as she started pushing back through the crowd again until she could find her mother. Grasping at her arm, she pulled her in closer to make herself heard, “Mother! They have Nenet, not Nef! We have to get to her!”
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As if to make matters even worse, it was then her mother appeared, Nia turning to face the woman with a look of pure irritation. Her excuses of why the circus must be ousted practically echoed her father’s, and for a moment, she thought how well made they were for each other, estrangement or no. Yes, continue to stir up suspicion and resentment without any proof. Rile up the mob forming barely outside the walls of your own home. This will surely end well.
Unfortunately, far too many members of the crowd seemed to agree with her parents over her, and Nia glanced helplessly between Iaheru, Onuphrious, and the nobles surrounding them. “But they haven’t done anything,” she insisted in a tone bordering on desperate, wary of the surge of anger rippling through the crowd. “What do they need to be regulated for? What proof do any of you have that they’ve done anything?”
Her words fell on deaf ears, and while Nia was frustrated, she was not surprised. The young woman’s reputation always preceded her, and these people were never inclined to listen to her words even on a good day. The Sirdar and Sirdsett H’Sheifa held far more sway than she ever would, and normally that was fine with her. But today? Today, it was going to be nothing but trouble.
Dread sat like a rock in her stomach as the crowd’s anger only rose, shouts that she was the one stolen from her bed spreading around her as if she were invisible. First, murmurs of a Moghadam relative, and now they believed it was her that was missing? After she had just spoken to them…?
“What are you all talking about?!” she shouted in confusion, her words quickly snatched away in the rising tumult. “I’m right here!”
Helplessly, she looked around as she was ignored, the crowd rallying to the battle cry and shoving forward. Eyes as wide as saucers, she looked between her parents, yelling, “Mother, Father, stop them! Tell them they’re wrong!”
It was then she heard further shouts, shouts that Nefertaari had been plucked out of the crowd and was being carried off toward the circus. What were these people talking about?! Nefertaari wasn’t even here. She and her sisters had grown up in the Ghani district, among the very courtiers who now didn’t even seem to recognize them. What was going on?
Growling in annoyance, she pushed her way through the crowd as well as she could, craning to see over their heads and figure out who it really was that had supposedly been carried off. Could she even trust that was true, with all the wild speculation floating around today?
Finally, she did manage to catch a glimpse of a woman being carried above the others, and if she wasn’t mistaken…
Oh no. Gods, no. That wasn’t… Nenet?
“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath as she started pushing back through the crowd again until she could find her mother. Grasping at her arm, she pulled her in closer to make herself heard, “Mother! They have Nenet, not Nef! We have to get to her!”
As if to make matters even worse, it was then her mother appeared, Nia turning to face the woman with a look of pure irritation. Her excuses of why the circus must be ousted practically echoed her father’s, and for a moment, she thought how well made they were for each other, estrangement or no. Yes, continue to stir up suspicion and resentment without any proof. Rile up the mob forming barely outside the walls of your own home. This will surely end well.
Unfortunately, far too many members of the crowd seemed to agree with her parents over her, and Nia glanced helplessly between Iaheru, Onuphrious, and the nobles surrounding them. “But they haven’t done anything,” she insisted in a tone bordering on desperate, wary of the surge of anger rippling through the crowd. “What do they need to be regulated for? What proof do any of you have that they’ve done anything?”
Her words fell on deaf ears, and while Nia was frustrated, she was not surprised. The young woman’s reputation always preceded her, and these people were never inclined to listen to her words even on a good day. The Sirdar and Sirdsett H’Sheifa held far more sway than she ever would, and normally that was fine with her. But today? Today, it was going to be nothing but trouble.
Dread sat like a rock in her stomach as the crowd’s anger only rose, shouts that she was the one stolen from her bed spreading around her as if she were invisible. First, murmurs of a Moghadam relative, and now they believed it was her that was missing? After she had just spoken to them…?
“What are you all talking about?!” she shouted in confusion, her words quickly snatched away in the rising tumult. “I’m right here!”
Helplessly, she looked around as she was ignored, the crowd rallying to the battle cry and shoving forward. Eyes as wide as saucers, she looked between her parents, yelling, “Mother, Father, stop them! Tell them they’re wrong!”
It was then she heard further shouts, shouts that Nefertaari had been plucked out of the crowd and was being carried off toward the circus. What were these people talking about?! Nefertaari wasn’t even here. She and her sisters had grown up in the Ghani district, among the very courtiers who now didn’t even seem to recognize them. What was going on?
Growling in annoyance, she pushed her way through the crowd as well as she could, craning to see over their heads and figure out who it really was that had supposedly been carried off. Could she even trust that was true, with all the wild speculation floating around today?
Finally, she did manage to catch a glimpse of a woman being carried above the others, and if she wasn’t mistaken…
Oh no. Gods, no. That wasn’t… Nenet?
“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath as she started pushing back through the crowd again until she could find her mother. Grasping at her arm, she pulled her in closer to make herself heard, “Mother! They have Nenet, not Nef! We have to get to her!”
Raziya was seething. That was the only way to put it. How dare these people accuse them of misdeeds. They didn’t even have proof, just hatred of anything different. They offered their coin for entertainment, an escape from their bleak lives, and then turned around and acted as though the circus was a dirty thing. It was pathetic, a lack of imagination and respect, yet a tale as old as time. One thing was also certain. They could not let such an insult stand. No, they would rain down chaos on Cairo and punish those who dared to levy such baseless outrage against them. As if the circus had any use for a girl soft from pampering being held against her will. Theirs was a game of temptation and allure. Willing followers were so much more pliable.
Fine, if they wanted a reason to be angry, the Tempest would give them just that.
As their leader began to speak, Raziya could feel the energy of @set running through her, thrumming within her chest and through her limbs. To go against Amenemhat was to go against Set himself, for the circus ringleader was surely his chosen, his most loyal vassal on the Egyptian sands. Who else honored the master of chaos but the circus who bore his name, sowed his seeds of mischief and misfortune wherever they wandered? Who nurtured his will into reality at the behest of one wise enough to know who reigned supreme over Egypt and all beyond. Chaos saw no boundaries, cared nothing for country or origin. Chaos saw and hungered and claimed everything before it. Nothing was safe and that made nothing more sacred or powerful than such a force.
@set was chaos, in egypt and beyond. It was the one thing that Raziya knew to be true. Her loyalty might first be to the Amenemhat himself, but were the two truly so different? Nem embodied the principles of Set upon the mortal plane, and so to worship one was to devote herself to the other.
Their ringmaster made his intent clear. Yes, yes, yes. Make them pay. Make them suffer. Ruin them.
Rage flowed through the circus as if they were one being, and in every sense that mattered, they were. The tempest was their heart, Amenemhat was their mind, and the members of the circus were a hundred limbs, eagerly waiting to lash out wherever they were aimed. The people of Cairo would rue the day that they turned such vicious rumors against the Tempest of Set. Kesi walked through the crowd, handing out masks and robes. Raziya accepted them with a grin that was nearly feral. “Chaos will reign this night. None of Cairo will escape @set’s grasp,” she assured the ringmaster’s sister as she took the garments in hand.
Already a plan formed within the devious girl’s mind, glancing about at her family. Perhaps not the one of her birth, but the ones who mattered most. Her eyes found first the hulking beast master, a powerful man whose figure stood out from any crowd. He listened carefully to their leader, ready to obey. Her eyes caught those of the leader of the clique. She wasn’t a member of the inner circle, but she served her usefulness well. She could see the anger reflected in her dark eyes, the set of her lips as she decided upon a course of action for herself. Her eyes caught those of Delia, wondering just what kindling the woman’s flames might find this night.
She turned to the man beside her then, fire burning in her own deep brown eyes. “Come with me, we have much to do.” The elder man bent easily to her will, out of an affection that went deeper than blood between them. She moved to walk towards her tent, intent on getting the tools she needed, but taking a moment to walk past their leader. She paused by his side, turning her head towards him. She was his blade in every manner. She would never be his star, never be the one to sparkle in the light. No, she was his shadow, the dagger wielded against his enemies, the ghost with featherlight fingers that claimed treasure for his glory from those less worthy.
Raziya was at her best when she was invisible, and tonight would be no exception.
“The others can deal with the crowd,” she said softly, the cadance of her voice nearly hypnotizing even as it dripped with poison. “I’ll see to it that they find only despair when they flock from the streets to their home. This night will be remembered long after we are gone. They won’t get away with such offense against you. Not so long as I live.” She longed to touch him, but didn’t dare in front of so many. Raziya was his most precious secret and she would never betray that, no matter what impulses he sparked to life in her.
She had more important tasks at him.
With that, she continued to her tent, making sure her things were prepared for a hasty exit and that she had the tools she needed for thieving and destruction. Dressed in dark clothes that would help her blend into the night and left her full flexibility, she donned the cloak and mask last. Including the most precious knife that was a gift from none other than her savior. It was her most cherished possession and her most useful one at that. It’s serrated edge made it versatile and perfect for cutting through the wooden bars that provided a home’s only defense.
Pulling the blade dancer close into an embrace, Raziya kissed him long and deep, arm draped over his shoulder, blade still in hand. Neither of them was the sort to be nervous around a sharp edge after all. If anything, a hint of blood drawn heightened their excitement. But now was not the time to be distracted. “We’re going to break into their homes, destroy their finery, take what we can. I need you to be my eyes...” Her voice trailed off as a slow grin spread over her lips as she looked up at him. “And perhaps my legs as well,” she teased, commenting on the not insignificant height difference between them. She could move so much faster in and out with his assistance.
They moved silently, away from the crowd rather than towards it. They ignored the homes with firelight dancing within. They cared only for the homes dark as their inhabitants took to the street in ignorance. Finding their first mark, she let her partner boost her up to enter the dwelling, knowing that he would alert her to any risk of being caught. She moved through the rooms, taking anything that glittered or held value and could fit in her hand. Her knife sliced through fabric and broke pots. Yet she did nothing to the food. She had spent too many years going hungry to risk inflicting the same on another, no matter how deep the well of her anger.
No, she would only lash out at the luxuries people clung to. It was these that would bring the cowards to their knees in despair. People always mourned riches far more than necessities, too blinded by their greed to see beyond it. That was how she could hit them where it hurt as she had been commanded to. She would not fail her master.
Cairo would never see a night such as this in decades. As her blood pulsed through her veins, her smile grew all the wider. She could swear she felt @set looking down on them and delighting in their work, relishing in their devotion. They would right the scales as only those so single-mindedly devoted ever could.
Such was the power of the Tempest.
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Raziya was seething. That was the only way to put it. How dare these people accuse them of misdeeds. They didn’t even have proof, just hatred of anything different. They offered their coin for entertainment, an escape from their bleak lives, and then turned around and acted as though the circus was a dirty thing. It was pathetic, a lack of imagination and respect, yet a tale as old as time. One thing was also certain. They could not let such an insult stand. No, they would rain down chaos on Cairo and punish those who dared to levy such baseless outrage against them. As if the circus had any use for a girl soft from pampering being held against her will. Theirs was a game of temptation and allure. Willing followers were so much more pliable.
Fine, if they wanted a reason to be angry, the Tempest would give them just that.
As their leader began to speak, Raziya could feel the energy of @set running through her, thrumming within her chest and through her limbs. To go against Amenemhat was to go against Set himself, for the circus ringleader was surely his chosen, his most loyal vassal on the Egyptian sands. Who else honored the master of chaos but the circus who bore his name, sowed his seeds of mischief and misfortune wherever they wandered? Who nurtured his will into reality at the behest of one wise enough to know who reigned supreme over Egypt and all beyond. Chaos saw no boundaries, cared nothing for country or origin. Chaos saw and hungered and claimed everything before it. Nothing was safe and that made nothing more sacred or powerful than such a force.
@set was chaos, in egypt and beyond. It was the one thing that Raziya knew to be true. Her loyalty might first be to the Amenemhat himself, but were the two truly so different? Nem embodied the principles of Set upon the mortal plane, and so to worship one was to devote herself to the other.
Their ringmaster made his intent clear. Yes, yes, yes. Make them pay. Make them suffer. Ruin them.
Rage flowed through the circus as if they were one being, and in every sense that mattered, they were. The tempest was their heart, Amenemhat was their mind, and the members of the circus were a hundred limbs, eagerly waiting to lash out wherever they were aimed. The people of Cairo would rue the day that they turned such vicious rumors against the Tempest of Set. Kesi walked through the crowd, handing out masks and robes. Raziya accepted them with a grin that was nearly feral. “Chaos will reign this night. None of Cairo will escape @set’s grasp,” she assured the ringmaster’s sister as she took the garments in hand.
Already a plan formed within the devious girl’s mind, glancing about at her family. Perhaps not the one of her birth, but the ones who mattered most. Her eyes found first the hulking beast master, a powerful man whose figure stood out from any crowd. He listened carefully to their leader, ready to obey. Her eyes caught those of the leader of the clique. She wasn’t a member of the inner circle, but she served her usefulness well. She could see the anger reflected in her dark eyes, the set of her lips as she decided upon a course of action for herself. Her eyes caught those of Delia, wondering just what kindling the woman’s flames might find this night.
She turned to the man beside her then, fire burning in her own deep brown eyes. “Come with me, we have much to do.” The elder man bent easily to her will, out of an affection that went deeper than blood between them. She moved to walk towards her tent, intent on getting the tools she needed, but taking a moment to walk past their leader. She paused by his side, turning her head towards him. She was his blade in every manner. She would never be his star, never be the one to sparkle in the light. No, she was his shadow, the dagger wielded against his enemies, the ghost with featherlight fingers that claimed treasure for his glory from those less worthy.
Raziya was at her best when she was invisible, and tonight would be no exception.
“The others can deal with the crowd,” she said softly, the cadance of her voice nearly hypnotizing even as it dripped with poison. “I’ll see to it that they find only despair when they flock from the streets to their home. This night will be remembered long after we are gone. They won’t get away with such offense against you. Not so long as I live.” She longed to touch him, but didn’t dare in front of so many. Raziya was his most precious secret and she would never betray that, no matter what impulses he sparked to life in her.
She had more important tasks at him.
With that, she continued to her tent, making sure her things were prepared for a hasty exit and that she had the tools she needed for thieving and destruction. Dressed in dark clothes that would help her blend into the night and left her full flexibility, she donned the cloak and mask last. Including the most precious knife that was a gift from none other than her savior. It was her most cherished possession and her most useful one at that. It’s serrated edge made it versatile and perfect for cutting through the wooden bars that provided a home’s only defense.
Pulling the blade dancer close into an embrace, Raziya kissed him long and deep, arm draped over his shoulder, blade still in hand. Neither of them was the sort to be nervous around a sharp edge after all. If anything, a hint of blood drawn heightened their excitement. But now was not the time to be distracted. “We’re going to break into their homes, destroy their finery, take what we can. I need you to be my eyes...” Her voice trailed off as a slow grin spread over her lips as she looked up at him. “And perhaps my legs as well,” she teased, commenting on the not insignificant height difference between them. She could move so much faster in and out with his assistance.
They moved silently, away from the crowd rather than towards it. They ignored the homes with firelight dancing within. They cared only for the homes dark as their inhabitants took to the street in ignorance. Finding their first mark, she let her partner boost her up to enter the dwelling, knowing that he would alert her to any risk of being caught. She moved through the rooms, taking anything that glittered or held value and could fit in her hand. Her knife sliced through fabric and broke pots. Yet she did nothing to the food. She had spent too many years going hungry to risk inflicting the same on another, no matter how deep the well of her anger.
No, she would only lash out at the luxuries people clung to. It was these that would bring the cowards to their knees in despair. People always mourned riches far more than necessities, too blinded by their greed to see beyond it. That was how she could hit them where it hurt as she had been commanded to. She would not fail her master.
Cairo would never see a night such as this in decades. As her blood pulsed through her veins, her smile grew all the wider. She could swear she felt @set looking down on them and delighting in their work, relishing in their devotion. They would right the scales as only those so single-mindedly devoted ever could.
Such was the power of the Tempest.
Raziya was seething. That was the only way to put it. How dare these people accuse them of misdeeds. They didn’t even have proof, just hatred of anything different. They offered their coin for entertainment, an escape from their bleak lives, and then turned around and acted as though the circus was a dirty thing. It was pathetic, a lack of imagination and respect, yet a tale as old as time. One thing was also certain. They could not let such an insult stand. No, they would rain down chaos on Cairo and punish those who dared to levy such baseless outrage against them. As if the circus had any use for a girl soft from pampering being held against her will. Theirs was a game of temptation and allure. Willing followers were so much more pliable.
Fine, if they wanted a reason to be angry, the Tempest would give them just that.
As their leader began to speak, Raziya could feel the energy of @set running through her, thrumming within her chest and through her limbs. To go against Amenemhat was to go against Set himself, for the circus ringleader was surely his chosen, his most loyal vassal on the Egyptian sands. Who else honored the master of chaos but the circus who bore his name, sowed his seeds of mischief and misfortune wherever they wandered? Who nurtured his will into reality at the behest of one wise enough to know who reigned supreme over Egypt and all beyond. Chaos saw no boundaries, cared nothing for country or origin. Chaos saw and hungered and claimed everything before it. Nothing was safe and that made nothing more sacred or powerful than such a force.
@set was chaos, in egypt and beyond. It was the one thing that Raziya knew to be true. Her loyalty might first be to the Amenemhat himself, but were the two truly so different? Nem embodied the principles of Set upon the mortal plane, and so to worship one was to devote herself to the other.
Their ringmaster made his intent clear. Yes, yes, yes. Make them pay. Make them suffer. Ruin them.
Rage flowed through the circus as if they were one being, and in every sense that mattered, they were. The tempest was their heart, Amenemhat was their mind, and the members of the circus were a hundred limbs, eagerly waiting to lash out wherever they were aimed. The people of Cairo would rue the day that they turned such vicious rumors against the Tempest of Set. Kesi walked through the crowd, handing out masks and robes. Raziya accepted them with a grin that was nearly feral. “Chaos will reign this night. None of Cairo will escape @set’s grasp,” she assured the ringmaster’s sister as she took the garments in hand.
Already a plan formed within the devious girl’s mind, glancing about at her family. Perhaps not the one of her birth, but the ones who mattered most. Her eyes found first the hulking beast master, a powerful man whose figure stood out from any crowd. He listened carefully to their leader, ready to obey. Her eyes caught those of the leader of the clique. She wasn’t a member of the inner circle, but she served her usefulness well. She could see the anger reflected in her dark eyes, the set of her lips as she decided upon a course of action for herself. Her eyes caught those of Delia, wondering just what kindling the woman’s flames might find this night.
She turned to the man beside her then, fire burning in her own deep brown eyes. “Come with me, we have much to do.” The elder man bent easily to her will, out of an affection that went deeper than blood between them. She moved to walk towards her tent, intent on getting the tools she needed, but taking a moment to walk past their leader. She paused by his side, turning her head towards him. She was his blade in every manner. She would never be his star, never be the one to sparkle in the light. No, she was his shadow, the dagger wielded against his enemies, the ghost with featherlight fingers that claimed treasure for his glory from those less worthy.
Raziya was at her best when she was invisible, and tonight would be no exception.
“The others can deal with the crowd,” she said softly, the cadance of her voice nearly hypnotizing even as it dripped with poison. “I’ll see to it that they find only despair when they flock from the streets to their home. This night will be remembered long after we are gone. They won’t get away with such offense against you. Not so long as I live.” She longed to touch him, but didn’t dare in front of so many. Raziya was his most precious secret and she would never betray that, no matter what impulses he sparked to life in her.
She had more important tasks at him.
With that, she continued to her tent, making sure her things were prepared for a hasty exit and that she had the tools she needed for thieving and destruction. Dressed in dark clothes that would help her blend into the night and left her full flexibility, she donned the cloak and mask last. Including the most precious knife that was a gift from none other than her savior. It was her most cherished possession and her most useful one at that. It’s serrated edge made it versatile and perfect for cutting through the wooden bars that provided a home’s only defense.
Pulling the blade dancer close into an embrace, Raziya kissed him long and deep, arm draped over his shoulder, blade still in hand. Neither of them was the sort to be nervous around a sharp edge after all. If anything, a hint of blood drawn heightened their excitement. But now was not the time to be distracted. “We’re going to break into their homes, destroy their finery, take what we can. I need you to be my eyes...” Her voice trailed off as a slow grin spread over her lips as she looked up at him. “And perhaps my legs as well,” she teased, commenting on the not insignificant height difference between them. She could move so much faster in and out with his assistance.
They moved silently, away from the crowd rather than towards it. They ignored the homes with firelight dancing within. They cared only for the homes dark as their inhabitants took to the street in ignorance. Finding their first mark, she let her partner boost her up to enter the dwelling, knowing that he would alert her to any risk of being caught. She moved through the rooms, taking anything that glittered or held value and could fit in her hand. Her knife sliced through fabric and broke pots. Yet she did nothing to the food. She had spent too many years going hungry to risk inflicting the same on another, no matter how deep the well of her anger.
No, she would only lash out at the luxuries people clung to. It was these that would bring the cowards to their knees in despair. People always mourned riches far more than necessities, too blinded by their greed to see beyond it. That was how she could hit them where it hurt as she had been commanded to. She would not fail her master.
Cairo would never see a night such as this in decades. As her blood pulsed through her veins, her smile grew all the wider. She could swear she felt @set looking down on them and delighting in their work, relishing in their devotion. They would right the scales as only those so single-mindedly devoted ever could.
Such was the power of the Tempest.
Azarion finally slipped on the robe and mask that he had been provided, the crowds could be heard, angry and surging towards them. It was time then. Them vs Cairo, and Cairo would find out the true power of the circus with Set behind them. To falsely accuse them of such petty crimes? Of things that had nothing to do with them, after the circus had provided them with such fun and entertainment?
The insult was great. And Azarion would do what ever his leader told him, what ever was necessary to deal with these crowds. Though, if he had it his way, his hyenas would be lose and blood would run on the streets of Cairo. These pathetic nobles and those that gathered with them would stand no chance against his pack, their jaws could rip limbs off in a single bite, and they would see there was a real reason to fear the circus.
He turned and was going to head to the crowds, to stop them from coming close to Nem. Nem needed to be protected. But as he got closer, he saw the crowds carrying some small woman, someone he had never seen before. They spoke of the circus kidnapping and hurting children, and yet here they were, carrying this woman Gods knew where as she screamed and shouted in terror.
He didn’t know her, but his protective instinct kicked in and he charged towards the crowd. There were others who would keep Nem safe for a moment, he would return to his job once this young woman was safe.
He easily plowed through the crowd, his sheer size and strength making it an easy task. None in this crowd had a chance of standing against him, and none seemed willing to try.
He made it to where the woman was, and he quickly grabbed her, pulling her from the hands of the crowd. He set her on her feet, opening up the caped robe he wore, he tucked her under his arm, wrapping the cape around her so he wouldn’t lose her.
“Come on.” He grumbled, and then he moved back through the crowd, pushing his way through as easily as he had on the way in.
When they made it through, he moved her a safe distance from them, letting her go.
“Wait here until it’s safe.” He said, then turned and started heading back to the circus folks. He needed to protect Nem. He had no idea if the woman would actually wait there, or if she would be scared and leave. He really couldn’t care. He felt fine now that he had pulled her from the clutches of the crowd who didn’t seem to care for her safety.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Azarion finally slipped on the robe and mask that he had been provided, the crowds could be heard, angry and surging towards them. It was time then. Them vs Cairo, and Cairo would find out the true power of the circus with Set behind them. To falsely accuse them of such petty crimes? Of things that had nothing to do with them, after the circus had provided them with such fun and entertainment?
The insult was great. And Azarion would do what ever his leader told him, what ever was necessary to deal with these crowds. Though, if he had it his way, his hyenas would be lose and blood would run on the streets of Cairo. These pathetic nobles and those that gathered with them would stand no chance against his pack, their jaws could rip limbs off in a single bite, and they would see there was a real reason to fear the circus.
He turned and was going to head to the crowds, to stop them from coming close to Nem. Nem needed to be protected. But as he got closer, he saw the crowds carrying some small woman, someone he had never seen before. They spoke of the circus kidnapping and hurting children, and yet here they were, carrying this woman Gods knew where as she screamed and shouted in terror.
He didn’t know her, but his protective instinct kicked in and he charged towards the crowd. There were others who would keep Nem safe for a moment, he would return to his job once this young woman was safe.
He easily plowed through the crowd, his sheer size and strength making it an easy task. None in this crowd had a chance of standing against him, and none seemed willing to try.
He made it to where the woman was, and he quickly grabbed her, pulling her from the hands of the crowd. He set her on her feet, opening up the caped robe he wore, he tucked her under his arm, wrapping the cape around her so he wouldn’t lose her.
“Come on.” He grumbled, and then he moved back through the crowd, pushing his way through as easily as he had on the way in.
When they made it through, he moved her a safe distance from them, letting her go.
“Wait here until it’s safe.” He said, then turned and started heading back to the circus folks. He needed to protect Nem. He had no idea if the woman would actually wait there, or if she would be scared and leave. He really couldn’t care. He felt fine now that he had pulled her from the clutches of the crowd who didn’t seem to care for her safety.
Azarion finally slipped on the robe and mask that he had been provided, the crowds could be heard, angry and surging towards them. It was time then. Them vs Cairo, and Cairo would find out the true power of the circus with Set behind them. To falsely accuse them of such petty crimes? Of things that had nothing to do with them, after the circus had provided them with such fun and entertainment?
The insult was great. And Azarion would do what ever his leader told him, what ever was necessary to deal with these crowds. Though, if he had it his way, his hyenas would be lose and blood would run on the streets of Cairo. These pathetic nobles and those that gathered with them would stand no chance against his pack, their jaws could rip limbs off in a single bite, and they would see there was a real reason to fear the circus.
He turned and was going to head to the crowds, to stop them from coming close to Nem. Nem needed to be protected. But as he got closer, he saw the crowds carrying some small woman, someone he had never seen before. They spoke of the circus kidnapping and hurting children, and yet here they were, carrying this woman Gods knew where as she screamed and shouted in terror.
He didn’t know her, but his protective instinct kicked in and he charged towards the crowd. There were others who would keep Nem safe for a moment, he would return to his job once this young woman was safe.
He easily plowed through the crowd, his sheer size and strength making it an easy task. None in this crowd had a chance of standing against him, and none seemed willing to try.
He made it to where the woman was, and he quickly grabbed her, pulling her from the hands of the crowd. He set her on her feet, opening up the caped robe he wore, he tucked her under his arm, wrapping the cape around her so he wouldn’t lose her.
“Come on.” He grumbled, and then he moved back through the crowd, pushing his way through as easily as he had on the way in.
When they made it through, he moved her a safe distance from them, letting her go.
“Wait here until it’s safe.” He said, then turned and started heading back to the circus folks. He needed to protect Nem. He had no idea if the woman would actually wait there, or if she would be scared and leave. He really couldn’t care. He felt fine now that he had pulled her from the clutches of the crowd who didn’t seem to care for her safety.
It was a rare thing, this anger that Aelius felt in his chest. He had known every emotion in his life, for that was what it meant to be weak and mortal, but anger was one he felt rarely. Much less in a sense that felt so righteously indignant. He would stand only for crimes he had committed, such was justice--if justice could catch him flat footed. This however, was an insult. He knew that his comrades most likely felt the same, or some shade of similarity. They were after all, not dissimilar from each other in many ways, maybe more than some were comfortable with--but that was what bonded them, and branded them, and kept them devoted to their cause.
He watched his master speak, hanging on to his every word. There was such energy in the air when he spoke, that Aelius could do nothing but hang on to his every word. Surely there was no way the man was not divinity made flesh. Aelius could feel the palpable energy, enough so that the hairs on his arm stood on end as though ready to jump ship. Now was the time for fury, vengeance, and chaos. Now was the time for punishment to flow from @set through his mortal instruments and into the waiting world. Cairo would not know what had hit, what storm had shaken the city to its core. It was time for that great and heavy battle between Order and Chaos to once again unfold. It was time for joyous victory. Aelius was a soldier now, in this great war, and there was only duty tonight. But duty brought joy, and purpose, and he knew without the shadow of a doubt that he was right where he was meant to be. Nothing could shake his conviction. Tonight, he would revel in his duty, and tonight he would be more than a man.
“Thank you, Kesi, dearest. These are just my color,” he said as he accepted the robe and mask that she handed to him. They would no doubt come to be of great use in whatever Aelius was going to be swept up into. Already he could see Raziya plotting something. He knew the look of calculating mischief in her eyes. It was such a flattering look on her, and it stirred his blood further. He could not wait to see what plans unfolded between them as the night went on.
He took stock for a moment, of those around him. Everyone was here, and ready. He could see it plainly in their waiting muscles. Their bodies told the stories their mouths did not. He could see the way they held themselves. Fieyan with her scorpions, ready to pinch and stab and poison as they scuttled about under foot. That unnerved Aelius a bit--even after all these years he still did not care much for the creatures, though he dared not voice that to their master. They would be a valuable asset in causing a sizable commotion, and he was hesitantly thankful for their presence.
AZARIÔN likewise looked to be ready to kill, maim, or dismember any who came close. Aelius trusted the bear of a man, and he knew his devotion to their shared master was strong, and true. The crocodile on his arm however, was enough of a reason for Aelius to stick closer to Raziya. He would be of no use if the best parts of him got eaten for a pre-work snack. No, better to give the man a wide berth. He would do his duty like the rest of them, and that was really all the assurance Aelius needed.
Raziya called him to follow, and he was helpless to disobey. She was as much a partner as any he had ever known, and having seen her plotting earlier, he knew that something fantastically wicked was in the works. Something he most definitely had to see for himself. “Of course, Raziya, your wish is my command,” he affirmed, following in her wake. He listened intently as she spoke to Amenemhat, knowing well whatever was said was the strongest promise she would ever make.
“You have my word she will make it back to you in one piece. I also swear to make you proud, and to put the fear of @set in these fools hearts like they have never known.” Aelius swore solemnly, before he followed his partner in crime out into the night. He had no worries that others would do their parts. They were capable and their devotion was strong--there was no doubt in his heart tonight.
Aelius followed Raziya wordlessly, watching her back...and more, as she about her work and preparations for the chaos they were about to cause. Were they not in the process of holy work he might have been inclined to indulge a little chaos of his own. Raziya pulling him into an embrace and a deep, wonderful kiss, did nothing to quell his desires. When his blood was roused like this everything made him want to fuck, and fight, and sometimes both. Aelius listened intently as Raziya outlined her plans. He liked what he was hearing, and he knew that they were going to play an integral part of the nights events. He could hardly wait.
“I love it,” he said, a wicked grin on his face as she teased him about her legs. He would be anything she wanted him to, even if it was impossible he would find a way for her. Little else was said between them as they began their work. What were words when Chaos and history were being made? They clung to the darkness like nursing pups clung to their mother, and moved with a practiced, coordinated grace that only came from years of life or death desperation.
He did exactly what his partner needed him to do, boosted her into spaces she could not reach, and once she was inside he stood his vigil. His hands rested on his swords, ready to strike down any who might see them, or call attention to their thievery. There was no room for error, and certainly no space for mercy. No, tonight his blades would sing with the fierce fury of metal possessed by demons. All he needed was an opportunity. If all went well though, he may not need to draw blood, as long as the night and @set remained on their shoulders everything would go exactly as Raziya had planned.
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It was a rare thing, this anger that Aelius felt in his chest. He had known every emotion in his life, for that was what it meant to be weak and mortal, but anger was one he felt rarely. Much less in a sense that felt so righteously indignant. He would stand only for crimes he had committed, such was justice--if justice could catch him flat footed. This however, was an insult. He knew that his comrades most likely felt the same, or some shade of similarity. They were after all, not dissimilar from each other in many ways, maybe more than some were comfortable with--but that was what bonded them, and branded them, and kept them devoted to their cause.
He watched his master speak, hanging on to his every word. There was such energy in the air when he spoke, that Aelius could do nothing but hang on to his every word. Surely there was no way the man was not divinity made flesh. Aelius could feel the palpable energy, enough so that the hairs on his arm stood on end as though ready to jump ship. Now was the time for fury, vengeance, and chaos. Now was the time for punishment to flow from @set through his mortal instruments and into the waiting world. Cairo would not know what had hit, what storm had shaken the city to its core. It was time for that great and heavy battle between Order and Chaos to once again unfold. It was time for joyous victory. Aelius was a soldier now, in this great war, and there was only duty tonight. But duty brought joy, and purpose, and he knew without the shadow of a doubt that he was right where he was meant to be. Nothing could shake his conviction. Tonight, he would revel in his duty, and tonight he would be more than a man.
“Thank you, Kesi, dearest. These are just my color,” he said as he accepted the robe and mask that she handed to him. They would no doubt come to be of great use in whatever Aelius was going to be swept up into. Already he could see Raziya plotting something. He knew the look of calculating mischief in her eyes. It was such a flattering look on her, and it stirred his blood further. He could not wait to see what plans unfolded between them as the night went on.
He took stock for a moment, of those around him. Everyone was here, and ready. He could see it plainly in their waiting muscles. Their bodies told the stories their mouths did not. He could see the way they held themselves. Fieyan with her scorpions, ready to pinch and stab and poison as they scuttled about under foot. That unnerved Aelius a bit--even after all these years he still did not care much for the creatures, though he dared not voice that to their master. They would be a valuable asset in causing a sizable commotion, and he was hesitantly thankful for their presence.
AZARIÔN likewise looked to be ready to kill, maim, or dismember any who came close. Aelius trusted the bear of a man, and he knew his devotion to their shared master was strong, and true. The crocodile on his arm however, was enough of a reason for Aelius to stick closer to Raziya. He would be of no use if the best parts of him got eaten for a pre-work snack. No, better to give the man a wide berth. He would do his duty like the rest of them, and that was really all the assurance Aelius needed.
Raziya called him to follow, and he was helpless to disobey. She was as much a partner as any he had ever known, and having seen her plotting earlier, he knew that something fantastically wicked was in the works. Something he most definitely had to see for himself. “Of course, Raziya, your wish is my command,” he affirmed, following in her wake. He listened intently as she spoke to Amenemhat, knowing well whatever was said was the strongest promise she would ever make.
“You have my word she will make it back to you in one piece. I also swear to make you proud, and to put the fear of @set in these fools hearts like they have never known.” Aelius swore solemnly, before he followed his partner in crime out into the night. He had no worries that others would do their parts. They were capable and their devotion was strong--there was no doubt in his heart tonight.
Aelius followed Raziya wordlessly, watching her back...and more, as she about her work and preparations for the chaos they were about to cause. Were they not in the process of holy work he might have been inclined to indulge a little chaos of his own. Raziya pulling him into an embrace and a deep, wonderful kiss, did nothing to quell his desires. When his blood was roused like this everything made him want to fuck, and fight, and sometimes both. Aelius listened intently as Raziya outlined her plans. He liked what he was hearing, and he knew that they were going to play an integral part of the nights events. He could hardly wait.
“I love it,” he said, a wicked grin on his face as she teased him about her legs. He would be anything she wanted him to, even if it was impossible he would find a way for her. Little else was said between them as they began their work. What were words when Chaos and history were being made? They clung to the darkness like nursing pups clung to their mother, and moved with a practiced, coordinated grace that only came from years of life or death desperation.
He did exactly what his partner needed him to do, boosted her into spaces she could not reach, and once she was inside he stood his vigil. His hands rested on his swords, ready to strike down any who might see them, or call attention to their thievery. There was no room for error, and certainly no space for mercy. No, tonight his blades would sing with the fierce fury of metal possessed by demons. All he needed was an opportunity. If all went well though, he may not need to draw blood, as long as the night and @set remained on their shoulders everything would go exactly as Raziya had planned.
It was a rare thing, this anger that Aelius felt in his chest. He had known every emotion in his life, for that was what it meant to be weak and mortal, but anger was one he felt rarely. Much less in a sense that felt so righteously indignant. He would stand only for crimes he had committed, such was justice--if justice could catch him flat footed. This however, was an insult. He knew that his comrades most likely felt the same, or some shade of similarity. They were after all, not dissimilar from each other in many ways, maybe more than some were comfortable with--but that was what bonded them, and branded them, and kept them devoted to their cause.
He watched his master speak, hanging on to his every word. There was such energy in the air when he spoke, that Aelius could do nothing but hang on to his every word. Surely there was no way the man was not divinity made flesh. Aelius could feel the palpable energy, enough so that the hairs on his arm stood on end as though ready to jump ship. Now was the time for fury, vengeance, and chaos. Now was the time for punishment to flow from @set through his mortal instruments and into the waiting world. Cairo would not know what had hit, what storm had shaken the city to its core. It was time for that great and heavy battle between Order and Chaos to once again unfold. It was time for joyous victory. Aelius was a soldier now, in this great war, and there was only duty tonight. But duty brought joy, and purpose, and he knew without the shadow of a doubt that he was right where he was meant to be. Nothing could shake his conviction. Tonight, he would revel in his duty, and tonight he would be more than a man.
“Thank you, Kesi, dearest. These are just my color,” he said as he accepted the robe and mask that she handed to him. They would no doubt come to be of great use in whatever Aelius was going to be swept up into. Already he could see Raziya plotting something. He knew the look of calculating mischief in her eyes. It was such a flattering look on her, and it stirred his blood further. He could not wait to see what plans unfolded between them as the night went on.
He took stock for a moment, of those around him. Everyone was here, and ready. He could see it plainly in their waiting muscles. Their bodies told the stories their mouths did not. He could see the way they held themselves. Fieyan with her scorpions, ready to pinch and stab and poison as they scuttled about under foot. That unnerved Aelius a bit--even after all these years he still did not care much for the creatures, though he dared not voice that to their master. They would be a valuable asset in causing a sizable commotion, and he was hesitantly thankful for their presence.
AZARIÔN likewise looked to be ready to kill, maim, or dismember any who came close. Aelius trusted the bear of a man, and he knew his devotion to their shared master was strong, and true. The crocodile on his arm however, was enough of a reason for Aelius to stick closer to Raziya. He would be of no use if the best parts of him got eaten for a pre-work snack. No, better to give the man a wide berth. He would do his duty like the rest of them, and that was really all the assurance Aelius needed.
Raziya called him to follow, and he was helpless to disobey. She was as much a partner as any he had ever known, and having seen her plotting earlier, he knew that something fantastically wicked was in the works. Something he most definitely had to see for himself. “Of course, Raziya, your wish is my command,” he affirmed, following in her wake. He listened intently as she spoke to Amenemhat, knowing well whatever was said was the strongest promise she would ever make.
“You have my word she will make it back to you in one piece. I also swear to make you proud, and to put the fear of @set in these fools hearts like they have never known.” Aelius swore solemnly, before he followed his partner in crime out into the night. He had no worries that others would do their parts. They were capable and their devotion was strong--there was no doubt in his heart tonight.
Aelius followed Raziya wordlessly, watching her back...and more, as she about her work and preparations for the chaos they were about to cause. Were they not in the process of holy work he might have been inclined to indulge a little chaos of his own. Raziya pulling him into an embrace and a deep, wonderful kiss, did nothing to quell his desires. When his blood was roused like this everything made him want to fuck, and fight, and sometimes both. Aelius listened intently as Raziya outlined her plans. He liked what he was hearing, and he knew that they were going to play an integral part of the nights events. He could hardly wait.
“I love it,” he said, a wicked grin on his face as she teased him about her legs. He would be anything she wanted him to, even if it was impossible he would find a way for her. Little else was said between them as they began their work. What were words when Chaos and history were being made? They clung to the darkness like nursing pups clung to their mother, and moved with a practiced, coordinated grace that only came from years of life or death desperation.
He did exactly what his partner needed him to do, boosted her into spaces she could not reach, and once she was inside he stood his vigil. His hands rested on his swords, ready to strike down any who might see them, or call attention to their thievery. There was no room for error, and certainly no space for mercy. No, tonight his blades would sing with the fierce fury of metal possessed by demons. All he needed was an opportunity. If all went well though, he may not need to draw blood, as long as the night and @set remained on their shoulders everything would go exactly as Raziya had planned.
