The Eye of Anubis: Book Ten

[lostboy]

A smile almost touches Sascha's lips at Tomas' words, although its a well concealed smile a one he certainly doesnt flaunt in Lia's direction.
Making a hrrumphing sound, which certainly isnt covering a chuckle, Sascha pulls back his mail hood, letting his hair flow free as he steps across the threshold, and takes a few strides towards the figure.

He makes an uncomfortably vague friendly gesture at the jackal, his mother always warned him not to trust wild animals, granted she was talking about the black man-wolves of the frozen land, but Sascha wasnt about to take chances and loose a finger or two.

"Interruption please forget, revered elder, perhaps assist us may you?" Sascha calls out in a rather mangled grammatically incorrect form of Akiri, not the most elegant but the gist was right.

[OOC: with possibly the worst handle animal rating ever, I dont think Sascha will be attempting to rub the doggie's belly ]

[Kaitou Kage]

Kuzan was tired.

It wasn't even 7 yet, but the priest looked like he was ready for bed for the night. He rubbed his eyes and blinked against the setting sun, then rubbed them again once they entered the temple. He stifled a yawn and folded his arms loosely over his chest. Though no stranger to long days and nights tending to sick and injured, he'd developed the ability to channel positive energy in greater and more versatile ways since leaving Port-a-Lucine. This might not ordinarily be a problem except the priest expended an incredible amount of positive energy all at once back in the temple to Set. He was already tired when they left for the secret tunnels, and the hours of trekking wore him out even further.

"It looks like Tomas is all over it," Kuzan mumbled, stifling another yawn, "I just sit here and watch. You all know better why we're here."

[NeoTiamat]

The Abandoned Temple, Har'Akir
August 27th, 761, 6:41 PM; Day 163 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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The first thing that struck Sascha as he entered the back room was the smell. The thick scent of spices, interwoven with the coppery smell of blood, rose to cloying levels within the small chamber of the abandoned temple.

None of this seemed to bother the occupants of the chamber. In addition to Kheldun, three more jackals lounged about the room. Two of the jackals tussled in the corner of the room over a scrap of cured meat, each one latched into an end of the strip with small, sharp teeth and holding on for dearest life. The third jackal had positioned itself atop a small pedestal, perhaps once reserved for a statue of some sort, and had been fast asleep. It opened one eye to look at Sascha, then returned to slumber. In the center of the room, Kheldun labored over the fifth jackal in this temple.

There could be little doubt that this man was Fassahd's grandfather. Kheldun was older, certainly, though whether the man was fifty years of age or eighty years of age was impossible to determine. He shared the same hooked nose with Fassahd, an impressive beak, and the same glossy black hair, not a hair of which had turned grey despite Kheldun's age.

Moreover, Kheldun had a lot more hair than his grandson. The man bore a shaggy beard on his face, and all on the whole gave the uncombed and disorganized appearance of a very amused terrier. He wore rough-woven robes, splattered with a number of stains of indeterminate make. He was also currently cutting open a dead jackal.

"Yes, certainly, stranger." Kheldun said, withdrawing a small, irregular lump of flesh. It appeared to be a jackal's liver. He turned and held it out for Sascha. "Be a friend and put this into the human-headed jar on the shelf back there?"

Kheldun had black eyes. It took Sascha a moment to realize that they weren't completely black, a hint of white did show at the edges. But pupil and iris were dark as night.

[DocBeard]

Tomas blinks.

"Eye." Tomas swallows, "/I/ am Tomas Eisenwald." The Lamordian offers a hand to shake, hoping that the old man is not blind, or a ghost. Either would be kind of a bad situation, you know?

[Nathan of the FoS]

Wearing neither head covering nor mask, Charles steps inside promptly and accompanies the others to where Kheldun and his jackals are engaged in their business.

Charles can only be grateful he is not the one being asked to assist with this...burial? Don't the Akiri do something like this when mummifying their dead?

Their dead people, that is?

And then Kheldun (presumably this is he) turns around, revealing his...unusual features. Odd that, after all this, something as simple as black eyes should have the power to shock.

But they are so very, very black...

"Good evening," Charles says, bowing politely. "Charles Martel, your servant. You...are performing a funeral? Do we intrude?"

[NeoTiamat]

The Abandoned Temple, Har'Akir
August 27th, 761, 6:45 PM; Day 163 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"And I am Kheldun al-Hasan ‘Ali ibn Sahl ibn Rabal al-Muharin." The old man introduced himself formally, his voice taking on a sonorous tone before dropping back to its well-worn self. The black-eyed man glanced at Tomas's outstretched hand, then took the obvious invitation for what it was and put the jackal's liver into it. "Thank you, my son."

He turned back and began to sew up the belly of the deceased animal, picking up a bone needle from nearby and closing the incision with neat, practiced strokes. Slowly, but surely, the jackal's gut closed up, and if you had not seen it you would have been hard-pressed to see where the wound had been.

"It is of no account, I was finishing here as it was. It grows late in the day." Kheldun said, running a hand along the dead jackal's neck tenderly. "Rayya, for her part, no longer worries about day or night. So then, foreign folk, what brings you to this old ruin?"

[yalenusveler]

"We..were hoping to talk to you about Fassahd" Andre said, watching the funerary proceedings with no small bit of curiosity. Performing canopic jar burial for jackals seemed..just a touch out of place to Andre, but then again he had both seen and participated in far stranger so judgment could be reserved for now at least.

[lostboy]

Saschas nostrils flare at the intital smell of blood, and his hand inches toward his sword, but as it becoems apparent the man is performing a funery ritual rather than butchering innocents, he relaxes some.

Still the mans appearance was a slight shock, which leaves Sascha staring at him, whilst Tomas gets the prize.

"Shall I take that?" he mutters at the young Lamordian, obviously not squemish about fresh innards in any way.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Lia remains where she is, eyes nervously switching between the valley beyond the doorway and the jackal in the chamber she can readily see. What transpires in the other room, of course, she can not. 'Devereux said this kind of creature was in my future,' the Wizard thinks, eyeing the reclining canine suspiciously. 'For well or woe, that is the question.' Irritably, Lia bestirs herself. 'We are far too exposed here. But then again, when have we not been too exposed during this voyage?'

[DocBeard]

"S-sure." Tomas does his best not to look squeemish, but he is holding a liver. "Thanks."

He wonders if it is blasphemous to wipe his hands on his jacket.

[NeoTiamat]

The Abandoned Temple, Har'Akir
August 27th, 761, 6:45 PM; Day 163 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"Into the jar, young man." Kheldun helpfully indicated one of the clay vessels with a gore-spattered needle. He finished stitching up the deceased jackal. "Scorpion-sting. Rayya was a clever girl, but not a careful one."

"We..were hoping to talk to you about Fassahd" Andre said, watching the funerary proceedings with no small bit of curiosity.

Kheldun turned to regard Andre for a moment, pausing in his work. It was like being stared at by a ghost, for all that Kheldun seemed flesh and blood.

"What fool venture has Fassahd hatched..." The old man said at length. "That drags so many foreigners to the desert?"

[lostboy]

With a slight smile at the corner of his mouth Sascha takes the liver, it is only meat afterall, warm or cold it isnt about to hurt anyone. "In the normal course of matters anyway" he mumbles under his breath giving the liver a cursory stare.

As the organ seems unlikely to attack, he crosses to the back of the room and the indicated shelves, locates the aforemnetioned jar and drops the liver into it. Replacing the lid carefully he casts a quick eye over the rest of the shelving, and its contents.

Still its only a momentary inspection and he returns with a polite bow to the old man. "Sascha Dziemianovitch, to meet across you an honour is it" he adds, before hoping Charles and Andre who can actually speak Akiri will lead this one.

[OOC: Spot check on the shelves for out of place weirdness: 18]

[DocBeard]

Tomas eventually wipes his hands off on a cloth handkerchief he was keeping on him for cleaning out his watch. Now he'll need a new one, Tomas thinks because it is better than facing how creepy this all is. He cannot help but look towards Sascha as he works, however, a queer curiosity overriding his squeamishness.

[Nathan of the FoS]

"What fool venture has Fassahd hatched..." The old man said at length. "That drags so many foreigners to the desert?"

"That is more or less what we are trying to find out, grandfather," Charles says. "Did Fassahd talk to you about trying to bring foreigners here, then?"

[NeoTiamat]

The Abandoned Temple, Har'Akir
August 27th, 761, 6:52 PM; Day 163 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"No. Why should he?" Kheldun turned his head towards Charles. There was a sense of melancholy pride in the old man's voice as he continued. "Fassahd is capable of making his own choices, for good or for ill. He's been initiated, he's a grown man, what my grandson chooses to do is between him and Foremost of the Westerners."