The Eye of Anubis: Book Ten

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Let's go, then," Lia urges. "And let us be off the streets as quickly as possible. I would not wish to become a target for signs of displeasure with the Falkovnians."

[NeoTiamat]

Temple of Isis, Muhar, Har'Akir
August 26th, 761, 5:44 PM; Day 162 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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You saw no one as you walked to the Temple of Isis. Perhaps a few glimpses from the corners of your eyes, but Muhar was quiet, still and silent in the evening light.

The Temple of Isis was a rather utilitarian building compared to the larger temples near the town square. It was a block of tapering sandstone some two stories high, with some rudimentary carvings done all along the front of the building. They told the story of Isis, of Osiris, of Ra and Horus and all the rest of the old gods of the Akiri pantheon.

The door itself was small and closed, with heavy hinges and seemed barred from the inside, though there was no lock. A knock brought the sounds of movement from the inside, and in short order the door cracked ajar.

The priestess of Isis was a long-haired woman in her mid-forties, wearing a brown, workman-like robe at the moment. A heavy symbol of Isis, carved from lapis lazuli and inlaid with gold, hung from her neck. She opened the door with a pleasant, motherly smile, only to go deathly still as she saw just who you were. The smile remained though, a corpse of an expression, as though she didn't quite dare to not smile.

"Blessing of Isis upon thee." The priestess of Isis said through forced lips. "I am Nathifa."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Lia gives the priestess a polite bow -- and a silver amulet with the sign of Ra upon it falls out of her collar. The amulet is tucked away quickly enough when the Mage rises again.

Akiri: "Greetings unto you, priestess of the sorceress of the gods, the kingmaker and preserver of the blessed dead," Lia says. "Let me say, first of all, that we are in no way, shape or guise, Falkovnians. My name is Lia Mourneswaithe."

That family name is somewhat awkward to translate into Akiri ... The closest to it seems to be something along the lines of 'Infant of the grief for the dead'.

[yalenusveler]

Andre offered a small, polite nod and began to wrack his brain for what he could remember about the faith of Isis, specifically in regards to what might be causing this to be the only temple not under what amounts to lockdown.

And also mentally faceplaming that Lia overly declared them not to be falkovnians, which if you were someone who was in a state of paranoia due to an occupying power cracking down harshly, was practically code for "yes, we are". But that was neither here nor there, and who knows, paranoia might not reign here.

And her assessment of Isis was worth at least a C in one of his early courses, so he couldn't judge Lia TOO harshly. Yet.

OOC:knowledge religion result of 30. Why aren't they getting in on the nasty fun, and anything I might need to not make some horrible faux pas, if you'd be so kind Mr.GM

[Nathan of the FoS]

Charles bows deeply and smiles. He is good at smiling; his eyes fairly sparkle. "Good evening, Mother Nathifa," he says, in oddly accented but intelligible Akiri. "We thank you for your blessing. I am very sorry if we alarmed you. Certainly we arrived in alarming company...we are not so very friendly with your...other visitors, but..."

Glancing in the direction of the compound, he continues, "We are, unfortunately, not in a position to ignore their demands at present. They have already made themselves unwelcome here, I see."

Diplomacy 39. Nobody bats his eyes at middle-aged women like Chaz does! Using one charge of wink brooch.

[Kaitou Kage]

Kuzan felt his heart beating faster as he entered the temple with the others. Once the others made their introductions, he quietly made his way to the front of the group.

"Good evening to you, Priestess," he said in Akiri, bowing his head slightly. It occurred to him how different his priestly vestments looked. "I am..." He paused.

"I am Oulam. A priest."

[The Whistler]

Otto simply nodded amiably from the back of the crowd, letting Charles do most of the heavy lifting. While bowing out wouldn't normally be his style under such tense circumstances, a number of factors argued in favor of it at the moment. Namely:

1) While the gunsmith didn't personally anthropomorphize his concept of God, he tried to respect the viewpoints of those who did--which meant attempting *extra hard* not to put his foot in it, whenever he met a cleric for the first time.

2) He was still seething over the last 20 minutes he'd spent at Faruq's, during which he had somehow been taken to the cleaners without realizing it at the time. I swear--like one of those Rokuma delay-action exploding-heart punches. You're fine when he's standing in front of you, then half an hour later...boom! Oh, you rapacious son of a--

3) He spoke no Akiri whatsoever.

On reflection, it was probably the third factor that was most important right now.

[DocBeard]

"Hallo!" Tomas is...Tomas. He grins, he waves, he acts like he is not getting glared at by a room full of people.

He pats Otto's shoulder, perhaps sharing some communal Lamordian sense of getting out shystered. "...is something wrong with Charles's eyes?" He murmurs to his countryman, then, looking worried.

[NeoTiamat]

Temple of Isis, Muhar, Har'Akir
August 26th, 761, 5:49 PM; Day 162 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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The priestess's eyes flicked first to the jackal-masked Lia, then to Kuzan, who most assuredly looked like some kind of Akiri lunatic, and then to the blond, blue-eyed mathematician before her. Come to think of it, most of you could've passed for Falkovnians, those of you who weren't ominously masked. dressed like insane Akiri, or patently inhuman elves. Nathifa glanced at Andre as the least threatening of the little group. Then noticed that he was lightly damp, in the middle of the desert.

One had to feel sorry for the poor woman.

"Perhaps..." The priestess of Isis said very, very cautiously. "My lords and my ladies would care to come in?"

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The interior of the Temple of Isis was as utilitarian as the exterior. It was a classic Akiri temple, a long chamber filled with columns and nothing else, a secondary, smaller chamber at the back, and a painting of Isis in this smaller chamber. Isis was depicted as larger than life, a winged woman whose size all but filled the smaller room at the end of the temple. A small altar stood before the painting, a ritual bowl and an ewer of purified water placed atop it. The bowl was stained with dark, purple juice.

And was currently half-filled with soapy water. Much more mundane implements were also on the temple, a brush, a smaller bowl of cleaning water, and a ragged towel.

"What way may I help you, my lords and ladies?" Nathifa said, still very... careful. The middle-aged woman watched your every move. She was not, perhaps, a beautiful woman, but a dignified one, self-assured in her maturity, her hair worn long and braided into hundreds of careful braids. She spoke in Mordentish for your benefit, a strong accent on the words. "I can offer healing, should you desire it."

[Nathan of the FoS]

"Thank you, Mother," Charles says, "for your invitation." Stepping over the threshold, he looks around with an interested expression. "We are very grateful for your generous offer, but we are not in need of healing now. Oh! I'm sorry...have we interrupted your cleaning?"

[lostboy]

Sascha remains at the door after the others head in, casting a few glances up and down the street to watch for signs of pursuit. After a second or so he ducks into the small door, catching the end of the introductions.

Sascha grimaces at Lia's words, his Akiri wasnt anywhere near fluent, but he caught enough of the gist of the words. If anyone of them would be mistaken for a Falkovnian, it would be the Knight, although that wasnt the onyl thing about Lia's words that makes him wince. "Truth and honour are a fine line" he mutters to himself as he closes the door.

As it is he bows reverently to the priestess and stands quietly hands clasped as Charles talks, allowing the diplomatic ones to take the lead.

[OOC: spot 24 to look for signs of being watched or pursuit ]

[DocBeard]

"Oh, gosh." Tomas remains chipper, rubbing his chin in thought. "If you want, ma'am, I can do some of the washing while Charles speaks with you. It's not like a lunkhead like me can be adding much to a conversation anyway..."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Lia just takes up a position next to the door, crosses her arms and leans against the wall. Apparently, she is content to wait and see how the conversation will develop from here.

[NeoTiamat]

Temple of Isis, Muhar, Har'Akir
August 26th, 761, 5:52 PM; Day 162 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"There is no need, my lord. I am merely preparing for the evening rituals..." The priestess waved away Tomas's offer. Then Nathifa realized she was refusing one of the Evil Falkovnians, and amended hastily. "If you so desire, though..."

The Priestess of Isis paused and looked at Tomas once more. Something in here did not quite compute. Sinister agents of the Falkovnian occupiers may barge into the temple and claim categorically that they're not sinister agents of the Falkovnian occupiers... but Nathifa was fairly certain that they wouldn't offer to wash the floors while there.

"It is nothing that cannot wait, in truth... with curfew the evening services are simply for myself, I can finish cleaning afterwards." Nathifa gave you a more considering look, the fear draining away, to be replaced a cautious suspicion. "Now, if not healing, my lords and ladies, how may I help you?"

[yalenusveler]

"Honestly?" Andre said, peering about. "It's a bit of helping each other, really. Things..are not right here, beyond the Falkovnians being present. It would be helpful to hear what has been occurring from someone who lives here, instead of simply the Falkovnians."

Andre continued to look about, with all the curiosity that comes from having studied a culture from books and recorded knowledge, but having little practical experience. Everything was old and new at the same time, and were it not for the rather..unpleasant..circumstances, he'd be rather like a child in a sweets shop.

"The sooner things are resolved..the sooner the Falkovnians are to pack up and leave, which would likely be best for everyone, really."