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Hasani was happy to see their initial issue mostly shored up and no longer a deeply troubling thing to look after. Saro had met their terms, agreed to stay with them, and likely just wanted to rest. Just as Hasani was keen on finding a bit of rest before supper was completed. Perhaps later, he would have the bathing tents set up for the tribe so that they could rest and relax after the harshness of trying to outrun the sandstorm.
Watching his wife wander away to prepare their supper for the night, Hasani brought his gaze back to Saro. "Later on, we may bathe. But for now, I think it would be wise for you to set up your tent and get some rest. Just as I wish to do now that I know that the rest of the tribe is safe," Hasani said calmly. "Remember. Stay away from the other tribes for now," he instructed, patting Saro on the shoulder as the leier passed him quietly. He was heading in the direction of their tent.
"Supper will be ready in an hour and a half or so. Our tent is toward the center of the group," Hasani pointed in the direction, "We would be happy to have you join us for a meal." And then he was leaving Saro behind, his exhaustion sudden clinging to him like a heavy pelt. Trodden down by it, he had to remind himself not to let his feet shuffle in the sand. He couldn't physically appear tired in front of the tribe, or the other tribes for that matter.
But as soon as he made it back to his tent, the man couldn't help but sink down into the furs with his clothes still on. He was out almost as soon as his head hit one of the pillows, desperately needing a nap before they were to continue the day. Once he woke, he would eat and do one final round of checking on the tribe before he could well and truly relax. And now, he had the excitement of a guest to look forward to and break the monotony that would likely grip the tribe while they were stuck at the port of the west. At least until the sandstorm passed.
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Hasani was happy to see their initial issue mostly shored up and no longer a deeply troubling thing to look after. Saro had met their terms, agreed to stay with them, and likely just wanted to rest. Just as Hasani was keen on finding a bit of rest before supper was completed. Perhaps later, he would have the bathing tents set up for the tribe so that they could rest and relax after the harshness of trying to outrun the sandstorm.
Watching his wife wander away to prepare their supper for the night, Hasani brought his gaze back to Saro. "Later on, we may bathe. But for now, I think it would be wise for you to set up your tent and get some rest. Just as I wish to do now that I know that the rest of the tribe is safe," Hasani said calmly. "Remember. Stay away from the other tribes for now," he instructed, patting Saro on the shoulder as the leier passed him quietly. He was heading in the direction of their tent.
"Supper will be ready in an hour and a half or so. Our tent is toward the center of the group," Hasani pointed in the direction, "We would be happy to have you join us for a meal." And then he was leaving Saro behind, his exhaustion sudden clinging to him like a heavy pelt. Trodden down by it, he had to remind himself not to let his feet shuffle in the sand. He couldn't physically appear tired in front of the tribe, or the other tribes for that matter.
But as soon as he made it back to his tent, the man couldn't help but sink down into the furs with his clothes still on. He was out almost as soon as his head hit one of the pillows, desperately needing a nap before they were to continue the day. Once he woke, he would eat and do one final round of checking on the tribe before he could well and truly relax. And now, he had the excitement of a guest to look forward to and break the monotony that would likely grip the tribe while they were stuck at the port of the west. At least until the sandstorm passed.
Hasani was happy to see their initial issue mostly shored up and no longer a deeply troubling thing to look after. Saro had met their terms, agreed to stay with them, and likely just wanted to rest. Just as Hasani was keen on finding a bit of rest before supper was completed. Perhaps later, he would have the bathing tents set up for the tribe so that they could rest and relax after the harshness of trying to outrun the sandstorm.
Watching his wife wander away to prepare their supper for the night, Hasani brought his gaze back to Saro. "Later on, we may bathe. But for now, I think it would be wise for you to set up your tent and get some rest. Just as I wish to do now that I know that the rest of the tribe is safe," Hasani said calmly. "Remember. Stay away from the other tribes for now," he instructed, patting Saro on the shoulder as the leier passed him quietly. He was heading in the direction of their tent.
"Supper will be ready in an hour and a half or so. Our tent is toward the center of the group," Hasani pointed in the direction, "We would be happy to have you join us for a meal." And then he was leaving Saro behind, his exhaustion sudden clinging to him like a heavy pelt. Trodden down by it, he had to remind himself not to let his feet shuffle in the sand. He couldn't physically appear tired in front of the tribe, or the other tribes for that matter.
But as soon as he made it back to his tent, the man couldn't help but sink down into the furs with his clothes still on. He was out almost as soon as his head hit one of the pillows, desperately needing a nap before they were to continue the day. Once he woke, he would eat and do one final round of checking on the tribe before he could well and truly relax. And now, he had the excitement of a guest to look forward to and break the monotony that would likely grip the tribe while they were stuck at the port of the west. At least until the sandstorm passed.
Saro was grateful for the chance to get to go and set up his tent and get some rest. If he was being honest, he was a little exhausted from the row to land and the interactions after. It had just started hitting him like a stone, making him feel a bit weighed down and sluggish, though like Hasani he did not outwardly show it. He knew better than to show weakness like that, even if they were being friendly so far.
“Thank you again, Leier Hasani. And thank your wife as well, for her hospitality, despite our confusion. I will set my tent up out of the way and rest. Please let me know if there is anything I can help with.” He said, giving Hasani a friendly smile before the other man walked away. Saro watched him do so for a moment, not wishing to follow behind him in a strange way. Once the other two were clear, he made his way through the gathering of tents, feeling eyes on him as he walked.
He made his way to a spot that was near Hasani’s tribe, but out of the way, and set up his small one-man tent. It was just large enough for him if he sat up, and long enough for him to lay down in, with a small corner for him to place his bag, but nothing more than that. It was meant to be set up and taken down quickly, just enough to provide him some shelter from the sun or other weather while he rested.
He climbed in, laying down and using his pack for a pillow, Saro let his eyes close, though his thoughts wandered for a while, replaying the days events in his head as he drifted slowly off to sleep. He assumed that Hasani or Tanishe would not hesitate to wake him if he was needed for anything, but for the moment he wanted to get some sleep. His dagger remained at his waist, within easy reach should anything happen while he slept.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Saro was grateful for the chance to get to go and set up his tent and get some rest. If he was being honest, he was a little exhausted from the row to land and the interactions after. It had just started hitting him like a stone, making him feel a bit weighed down and sluggish, though like Hasani he did not outwardly show it. He knew better than to show weakness like that, even if they were being friendly so far.
“Thank you again, Leier Hasani. And thank your wife as well, for her hospitality, despite our confusion. I will set my tent up out of the way and rest. Please let me know if there is anything I can help with.” He said, giving Hasani a friendly smile before the other man walked away. Saro watched him do so for a moment, not wishing to follow behind him in a strange way. Once the other two were clear, he made his way through the gathering of tents, feeling eyes on him as he walked.
He made his way to a spot that was near Hasani’s tribe, but out of the way, and set up his small one-man tent. It was just large enough for him if he sat up, and long enough for him to lay down in, with a small corner for him to place his bag, but nothing more than that. It was meant to be set up and taken down quickly, just enough to provide him some shelter from the sun or other weather while he rested.
He climbed in, laying down and using his pack for a pillow, Saro let his eyes close, though his thoughts wandered for a while, replaying the days events in his head as he drifted slowly off to sleep. He assumed that Hasani or Tanishe would not hesitate to wake him if he was needed for anything, but for the moment he wanted to get some sleep. His dagger remained at his waist, within easy reach should anything happen while he slept.
Saro was grateful for the chance to get to go and set up his tent and get some rest. If he was being honest, he was a little exhausted from the row to land and the interactions after. It had just started hitting him like a stone, making him feel a bit weighed down and sluggish, though like Hasani he did not outwardly show it. He knew better than to show weakness like that, even if they were being friendly so far.
“Thank you again, Leier Hasani. And thank your wife as well, for her hospitality, despite our confusion. I will set my tent up out of the way and rest. Please let me know if there is anything I can help with.” He said, giving Hasani a friendly smile before the other man walked away. Saro watched him do so for a moment, not wishing to follow behind him in a strange way. Once the other two were clear, he made his way through the gathering of tents, feeling eyes on him as he walked.
He made his way to a spot that was near Hasani’s tribe, but out of the way, and set up his small one-man tent. It was just large enough for him if he sat up, and long enough for him to lay down in, with a small corner for him to place his bag, but nothing more than that. It was meant to be set up and taken down quickly, just enough to provide him some shelter from the sun or other weather while he rested.
He climbed in, laying down and using his pack for a pillow, Saro let his eyes close, though his thoughts wandered for a while, replaying the days events in his head as he drifted slowly off to sleep. He assumed that Hasani or Tanishe would not hesitate to wake him if he was needed for anything, but for the moment he wanted to get some sleep. His dagger remained at his waist, within easy reach should anything happen while he slept.
Curveball Sand In My Eyes
The storm that so many hid away from in the Port of the West, has reached the edges of the portside city. Whilst it is not a true sandstorm as one might find in desert by this point, the howling winds and remaining sands upon the breeze chase everyone into their tents, cutting short negotiations or discussions and forcing the hands of those on the edge of any decisions regarding their own sleeping arrangements...
JD
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JD
Staff Team
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The storm that so many hid away from in the Port of the West, has reached the edges of the portside city. Whilst it is not a true sandstorm as one might find in desert by this point, the howling winds and remaining sands upon the breeze chase everyone into their tents, cutting short negotiations or discussions and forcing the hands of those on the edge of any decisions regarding their own sleeping arrangements...
Curveball Sand In My Eyes
The storm that so many hid away from in the Port of the West, has reached the edges of the portside city. Whilst it is not a true sandstorm as one might find in desert by this point, the howling winds and remaining sands upon the breeze chase everyone into their tents, cutting short negotiations or discussions and forcing the hands of those on the edge of any decisions regarding their own sleeping arrangements...
Dust rose, and as everyone began closing down their stalls and retreating to their tents, Mwenye promised a couple traders he recognized that he would come talk later and headed back to the Zaire encampment. Halfway there, he remembered that he hadn't yet set up his tent.
Oh, for... the prophet just sighed at himself and wrapped a corner of his headscarf over the lower half of his face. It wasn't going to be bad, not here, but it was definitely going to be annoying. He could have gone to his brothers' or parent's tents, but frankly, he had weathered enough on his own that he didn't feel he needed to, and after the long walk here, he rather looked forward to a long nap anyway. Instead, he headed for the camel pens.
Working quickly but not particularly worried, he unpacked the fabric of his tent and draped it between a pile of packs and his camel. The sensible animal was already lying down, eyes closed and nose pinched shut between breaths. Some others were less sensible, but by the time the young man had his shelter set to his satisfaction, the others had settled as well. He slipped under the strong fabric with a small pillow and the remains of his waterskin, and settled down on the hard ground. Sleeping on the sandy dunes was more comfortable, but between the warmth of his camel and the quiet, steady hiss of the sand in the wind, he was soon relaxing into sleep.
Al salouf had brains enough, she wouldn't try to stand up until the wind had died down properly, which would be his cue to wake up and set his tent up properly before the wind picked up again. For now, he simply let his mind drift until he could once again hear the voices of the wind, sinking into a light sleep where it was easy to hear the ancestors. How much of what they said he'd remember when he woke up, though, there was no way to know until he did.
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Dust rose, and as everyone began closing down their stalls and retreating to their tents, Mwenye promised a couple traders he recognized that he would come talk later and headed back to the Zaire encampment. Halfway there, he remembered that he hadn't yet set up his tent.
Oh, for... the prophet just sighed at himself and wrapped a corner of his headscarf over the lower half of his face. It wasn't going to be bad, not here, but it was definitely going to be annoying. He could have gone to his brothers' or parent's tents, but frankly, he had weathered enough on his own that he didn't feel he needed to, and after the long walk here, he rather looked forward to a long nap anyway. Instead, he headed for the camel pens.
Working quickly but not particularly worried, he unpacked the fabric of his tent and draped it between a pile of packs and his camel. The sensible animal was already lying down, eyes closed and nose pinched shut between breaths. Some others were less sensible, but by the time the young man had his shelter set to his satisfaction, the others had settled as well. He slipped under the strong fabric with a small pillow and the remains of his waterskin, and settled down on the hard ground. Sleeping on the sandy dunes was more comfortable, but between the warmth of his camel and the quiet, steady hiss of the sand in the wind, he was soon relaxing into sleep.
Al salouf had brains enough, she wouldn't try to stand up until the wind had died down properly, which would be his cue to wake up and set his tent up properly before the wind picked up again. For now, he simply let his mind drift until he could once again hear the voices of the wind, sinking into a light sleep where it was easy to hear the ancestors. How much of what they said he'd remember when he woke up, though, there was no way to know until he did.
Dust rose, and as everyone began closing down their stalls and retreating to their tents, Mwenye promised a couple traders he recognized that he would come talk later and headed back to the Zaire encampment. Halfway there, he remembered that he hadn't yet set up his tent.
Oh, for... the prophet just sighed at himself and wrapped a corner of his headscarf over the lower half of his face. It wasn't going to be bad, not here, but it was definitely going to be annoying. He could have gone to his brothers' or parent's tents, but frankly, he had weathered enough on his own that he didn't feel he needed to, and after the long walk here, he rather looked forward to a long nap anyway. Instead, he headed for the camel pens.
Working quickly but not particularly worried, he unpacked the fabric of his tent and draped it between a pile of packs and his camel. The sensible animal was already lying down, eyes closed and nose pinched shut between breaths. Some others were less sensible, but by the time the young man had his shelter set to his satisfaction, the others had settled as well. He slipped under the strong fabric with a small pillow and the remains of his waterskin, and settled down on the hard ground. Sleeping on the sandy dunes was more comfortable, but between the warmth of his camel and the quiet, steady hiss of the sand in the wind, he was soon relaxing into sleep.
Al salouf had brains enough, she wouldn't try to stand up until the wind had died down properly, which would be his cue to wake up and set his tent up properly before the wind picked up again. For now, he simply let his mind drift until he could once again hear the voices of the wind, sinking into a light sleep where it was easy to hear the ancestors. How much of what they said he'd remember when he woke up, though, there was no way to know until he did.
Just as she’d taken a few steps in the direction of the tent, the wind picked up. She held up her hand, using her arm to block her narrowed eyes as bits of sand and grit flew toward her face. At first she feared that the sandstorm had been able to follow them even here, but with the bowl shape of the port, that was nigh impossible. Perhaps the storm couldn’t gather itself up into a roaring, deadly shape anymore, but the winds were present enough and the storm’s wrath at being evaded still stung against her skin. Her kaftan billowed around her, the fabric flapping madly in the wind as she rushed, half blind, toward the tent.
Tanishe did not chance to look behind her for Hasani or that pale man they’d just met. They could handle themselves, though what they were going to eat now, she was uncertain. She’d built fires in high winds before but it was difficult and barely worth the time and effort. Perhaps dry meat and fruit, but there would be no bread. She wasn’t about to try that when they weren’t starving. It’d get sand in it, anyhow. It would be a little much to have escaped a sandstorm, had to fight sand through the winds, and then be chewing bread only to find little bits of gritty sand in every bite. Sleeping with a belly full of sand too was a bit much to ask of anyone.
Making it to the tent, she darted inside and crashed onto the first of the large, flat, square sitting pillows that littered the floor. Putting her hands in her lap, she heaved a huge sigh and looked around at the black walls of the tent. From the low ceiling usually hung some sort of herbs to dry and the scent would permeate the surrounding area. Now, all she could smell was the dirty water of the port and her own fatigue manifesting in sweat and grossness. She’d have to see to cleaning, but for now, she was happy to at least be out of the wind. Hasani would likely not be following her. He’d be seeing to wherever Saro was supposed to be. Lying on the pillow, Tanishe closed her eyes and let herself drift off into a nap.
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Just as she’d taken a few steps in the direction of the tent, the wind picked up. She held up her hand, using her arm to block her narrowed eyes as bits of sand and grit flew toward her face. At first she feared that the sandstorm had been able to follow them even here, but with the bowl shape of the port, that was nigh impossible. Perhaps the storm couldn’t gather itself up into a roaring, deadly shape anymore, but the winds were present enough and the storm’s wrath at being evaded still stung against her skin. Her kaftan billowed around her, the fabric flapping madly in the wind as she rushed, half blind, toward the tent.
Tanishe did not chance to look behind her for Hasani or that pale man they’d just met. They could handle themselves, though what they were going to eat now, she was uncertain. She’d built fires in high winds before but it was difficult and barely worth the time and effort. Perhaps dry meat and fruit, but there would be no bread. She wasn’t about to try that when they weren’t starving. It’d get sand in it, anyhow. It would be a little much to have escaped a sandstorm, had to fight sand through the winds, and then be chewing bread only to find little bits of gritty sand in every bite. Sleeping with a belly full of sand too was a bit much to ask of anyone.
Making it to the tent, she darted inside and crashed onto the first of the large, flat, square sitting pillows that littered the floor. Putting her hands in her lap, she heaved a huge sigh and looked around at the black walls of the tent. From the low ceiling usually hung some sort of herbs to dry and the scent would permeate the surrounding area. Now, all she could smell was the dirty water of the port and her own fatigue manifesting in sweat and grossness. She’d have to see to cleaning, but for now, she was happy to at least be out of the wind. Hasani would likely not be following her. He’d be seeing to wherever Saro was supposed to be. Lying on the pillow, Tanishe closed her eyes and let herself drift off into a nap.
Just as she’d taken a few steps in the direction of the tent, the wind picked up. She held up her hand, using her arm to block her narrowed eyes as bits of sand and grit flew toward her face. At first she feared that the sandstorm had been able to follow them even here, but with the bowl shape of the port, that was nigh impossible. Perhaps the storm couldn’t gather itself up into a roaring, deadly shape anymore, but the winds were present enough and the storm’s wrath at being evaded still stung against her skin. Her kaftan billowed around her, the fabric flapping madly in the wind as she rushed, half blind, toward the tent.
Tanishe did not chance to look behind her for Hasani or that pale man they’d just met. They could handle themselves, though what they were going to eat now, she was uncertain. She’d built fires in high winds before but it was difficult and barely worth the time and effort. Perhaps dry meat and fruit, but there would be no bread. She wasn’t about to try that when they weren’t starving. It’d get sand in it, anyhow. It would be a little much to have escaped a sandstorm, had to fight sand through the winds, and then be chewing bread only to find little bits of gritty sand in every bite. Sleeping with a belly full of sand too was a bit much to ask of anyone.
Making it to the tent, she darted inside and crashed onto the first of the large, flat, square sitting pillows that littered the floor. Putting her hands in her lap, she heaved a huge sigh and looked around at the black walls of the tent. From the low ceiling usually hung some sort of herbs to dry and the scent would permeate the surrounding area. Now, all she could smell was the dirty water of the port and her own fatigue manifesting in sweat and grossness. She’d have to see to cleaning, but for now, she was happy to at least be out of the wind. Hasani would likely not be following her. He’d be seeing to wherever Saro was supposed to be. Lying on the pillow, Tanishe closed her eyes and let herself drift off into a nap.