Muhar, Har'Akir
August 28th, 761, 8:21 AM; Day 164 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"Why don't you return to your quarters and relax for a bit?" Lebrecht said, dismounting. He patted his massive steed on the nose, leading it back toward the stables. "I'll tell the Kommandant that everyone's here."
Several of the Falkovnian guards gave Kheldun looks as he entered alongside of you, but they were trained well enough not to comment.
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The sounds of breakfast were livelier than usual, reaching your ears even before you entered the building. Ever since Kamarn-Quse, meals had been somewhat quiet affairs, and so the general chatter seemed strange to hear now. Nonetheless, the Expedition seemed to be in higher spirits, in the way that only a hot meal and a bit of relaxation could do.
"And what are
you having for breakfast, Professor Carter?" Dieter asked, looking entirely too innocent to actually be so. "Some kind of horrible sticky tuber vegetable? Wouldn't you prefer something more
interesting?"
"
You took the sheep brains, Dieter.
You will eat them," Carter said, popping a white, potato-like wedge into his mouth. The professor was looking at the plate with an expression like curdled milk.
"Hey, c'mon, prof. This isn't even nearly as bad as half the stuff you told me about eating," Dieter protested. "Whatever happened to the spirit of exploration and all that?" He waved at you all as he saw you enter, giving Kheldun a bit of an odd look. "Morning!"
"Good morning," Remy replied, walking over to sit near Marchand-Renier. The student suddenly started when Sebastian looked at him, but Marchand-Renier quickly pushed his glasses back up to his eyes and attempted a smile.
"Dieter, I have been entirely too close to becoming a zombie today for me to pick up eating brains," Carter said, rather irritably. Dieter immediately backed off.
"Hey, sorry prof," he said, looking a little chastised. A moment later, he picked up his plate again, looking around for a new victim. "Charles!
Friend! Ah... hi, Sarari." The mercenary started backing away from the elf, who had abruptly stood up and was staring at him.
"Mists..." Carter covered his mouth with his hand, shoving his plate of tubers away.
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A short while later, your breakfast table was joined by one more person.
"My office is currently somewhat of a mess," Veddarrak explained. "So I thought I might join you out here." The Kommandant was looking much more together at the moment, having changed into his uniform, cleaned all the blood off, and gotten a chance to shave. "And it seems you have accompaniment," he said, switching effortlessly to Akiri. "Good day. May I ask why you have come?"
"To ask you to leave," Kheldun replied. Veddarrak raised his eyebrows slightly.
"I have heard there is something that you seek," Kheldun continued, unconcerned. "I ask you now to leave without it. You must know, He-of-the-Hawk, that Muhar cannot support your army for much longer. You must know that the people of this village will return to you again with swords. Muhar has tasted blood, and now they will not rest until sated. And even should your soldiers destroy all who rise against you, what then? The desert is stronger than both sides, here. Muhar shall die, and you shall die with it. Leave. Go home. Surely whatever prize awaits you is not worth the loss of your men."
The Kommandant listened to his words impassively, spreading his arms in a gesture of helplessness. "You are observant, old one. But we seem to have reached an impasse. I myself would prefer to leave you in peace, but the choice to be here is not mine."
Vedarrak gestured to the west, out across the desert sands. "My superiors will not accept failure on my part, nor on the part of any of my men," he said. "Should we return empty handed, the fate that awaits us will be far less pleasant than death by the desert's heat. The danger of Muhar is a real one, and the difficulties we have caused are regrettable ones. But I cannot ask my men to turn back toward certain death when we may still push forward."
There was silence for a moment as black eyes coolly regarded blue. Kheldun looked displeased with Veddarak, but he bowed slightly regardless. "Then it must be so," he said, quietly.
"I am Kheldun, formerly first of the servants of Anubis," the old man said, straightening up and speaking his words with a sudden power. "I know the place that you seek. Take your men with me to the Tomb of Menetnashte, and be gone from Muhar forever."
"No, but evil is still being — Is having reason — Being reasonable! Mousie understands? Is always being reason. Is punishing world for not being... Like in head. Is always reason. World should be different, is reason."