[centre][img]https://i.imgur.com/8u97xBK.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/0Peef3O.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/XRcyBUw.png[/img][/centre] The best part of the night was over when the guardsmen of Miha-Rad hailed them. “Great diviner, you have brought the [i]kiwbur[/i]!” One cried in surprise. “No,” the [i]kayhin[/i] responded simply, “he just came.” The painted man floated off above their heads, surely to find an isolated space where he could enter into what passed for sleep amongst the sleepless [i]kayhins[/i]. The guard looked at Minir-Huda fearfully now that the [i]kayhin[/i] was gone. The vampire grinned, flashing teeth. “What’s this, Aku-Mihid, you’re not afraid of little old me now are you?” He laughed. “Sh- shut-up, beast! And don’t say my name like you are one of us — you severed all ties when you slew your kin!” All joviality faded from Minir-Huda’s face. “The gods take what the gods give.” He spoke coldly. “It just so happens that I was the tool they used. Now I am not here to be arguing with you. I will speak with my father.” The guard opened his mouth to protest, but Rima cut across him. “B- brother of Miha-Rad, your kinsman is here to make his peace and pay for his wrongs. Don’t make it difficult on him.” Aku-Mihid released a frustrated breath and shrugged. “I’ll let the [i]mugahtir[/i] know. But don’t move from here — and [i]definitely[/i] don’t go wandering in town.” He turned around and grunted something along the lines of [i]keep an eye on him[/i] to the others before moving off. Once he had disappeared, Minir-Huda approached them. “Well, Aku’s still as stiff as an old woman I see. All’s well in the world.” A few of the guardsmen snickered. “Though mind you, I’ve known some pretty supple old women in my time.” He added with a laugh, and Rima was somewhat surprised to see them quickly descend into hubbub of joking and laughing as though all was [i]truly[/i] well with the world. They paid her no heed at all and she felt almost invisible in their presence. When Aku-Mihid returned, he barked at Minir-Huda to follow him to the town’s [abbr=meeting place; lit. circle of speech][i]kurkolai[/i][/abbr]. Rima hurried after them curiously until they reached the centre of town near the oasis. There, beneath a great tree, benches and stools had been set up in a semicircle and on them all the patriarchs sat assembled. The tall [i]mugahtir[/i], Huda-Anar, came forward and looked at his son, before exhaling wordlessly and gesturing for him to come forth and sit. The vampire walked into the semicircle and greeted the seven patriarchs before descending to his knees on the ground and crossing his legs. “I have come before you, patriarchs.” He spoke. “I tire of life on the barrens and wish to be with my people again.” “You have done great wrongs, Minir-Huda,” one of the patriarchs said, “not merely against the people of Miha-Rad, but especially against your near of kin: your brother, your uncles, your cousins. You have slain in your few weeks more than we have ever lost to battles or raids—only the [i]fahupki[/i] have hurt us more. Why did you do as you did, boy?” “Look here at this old man,” another of the patriarchs said, pointing to [i]mugahtir[/i] Huda-Anar, “you have caused his hair to whiten and you have brought on him more age in these last few weeks than have the seven decades that went afore. Your mother, who was yet the most beautiful woman west of the mountains, now walks back bent, weighed down by your deeds. Have you no shame or conscience?” “Listen to this too, Minir-Huda: the shedding of blood is a crime against your fellow people and a crime against the gods. We do not kill even our enemies! We go into battle and we fight and give strike for strike, but we know never to kill. That is not our way. We are not some [i]fahupki[/i] monsters to kill and slay mindlessly. And here you are, our son born and raised among us and planted in this earth as the corn; here you are killing us and shedding our blood. Neither we nor our forefathers have known a crime like this in Miha-Rad, and we know of no punishment for it.” “I erred, patriarchs, and I am repentant. Is it not punishment enough that all people across the sands of time will know that it was Minir-Huda who first shed blood in Miha-Rad? And is it not punishment enough that the gods have cursed me never to walk in the light again? My punishment follows me and I am repentant, so do not add pain to my pain. Be forgiving, patriarchs. Here I am, a sinner — cursed with this hungering for blood and the strength by which to fall deeper and deeper into the pit. But here I am repentant before you — I would give this strength to Miha-Rad, I would be the arm that strikes for it and not against it. I only ask your forgiveness and your aid. I do not seek wealth or estates or authority, my heart knows no love for those things; I only seek to be among my people again. My heart is heavy on the barrens, the silence is death and it is a punishment I cannot stand. Be forgiving, patriarchs.” Rima walked by quietly and leaned against one of the abode walls, watching the whole thing with the slightest of furrowed brows. A patriarch looked over at her with a frown, then whispered something while gesturing in her direction. The [i]mugahtir[/i] looked over too when attention was drawn to her, then stood and walked over. “My girl, what are you doing here. This is no gathering for young women, go and sleep now.” “Wh- what? But I just want to watch. I convinced him to seek peace, I just want to see.” She protested. “My girl, this is not seemly. It is not a woman’s place — especially not one so young. Had you the years of Huna-Miwe then perhaps you could observe — but look,” he gestured around, “not even she is here. It is best that you go, daughter.” “I- I don’t understand. Why can’t a woman watch?” “That is the way of things — women have their duties, and men have their duties, and neither transgress the line between.” The [i]mugahtir[/i] said calmly, “now go, go. The sun will soon rise and we must be done with this before then.” With a frown on her face and a pout lining her lips, Rima took one final look at the circle and the vampire sat within it. Sighing loudly, she turned and walked away, and the [i]mugahtir[/i] likewise returned to his place and their proceedings continued. Rima walked around until she found Shala’s home. Sticking her head inside, she found that Shala was lying naked on her bedding, her head on an equally naked Jur-Boh’s arm. Ignoring the sleeping couple, Rima went and sat on the sheets, her brows refusing to unknot. Why was she not allowed to watch? She was not going to say anything! It seemed unfair to her — and after all the effort she and her [i]idda-ta[/i] had gone to too. Her roiling thoughts kept her awake until the sun began to rise. When Shala awoke, she found her sat fuming still, her wig-headdress hanging lopsided atop her head. “Well, someone looks like they had a good night.” The older woman said as she covered up her crotch and chest with garments. “Well, you need to see better,” Rima responded brusquely, watching how she tied the undergarments with veiled attentiveness. “What happened? Did things not go as planned with Minir-Huda?” She asked, slipping her long skirt on. “No no, it all went well. Really well actually — he came back with us to make peace. But then when I wanted to watch the [i]kurkolai[/i] the grumpy [i]mugahtir[/i] made me go away! Why can’t a woman watch? I wasn’t going to say anything, I just wanted to see!” Shala came over with her poncho in hand and looked down at the irritated girl. “Well, that’s men’s business. Why would you want to bother with that?” She bent down and busied herself with righting Rima’s headdress. “Alright, I get it. It’s men’s business. I wasn’t getting involved or anything — I just wanted to see how it went, that’s all. Is that so bad?” Rima huffed and scratched at her ear. “I mean, we’ll eventually know the outcome whether we watch or not, so why waste your time on that? Come now, let’s make you something to eat, you’re probably starving.” She rose and put her poncho on, throwing a blanket over Jur-Boh on her way out of the abode. She stood at the door and stretched. “Oh, it’s a beautiful day!” Rima held back a tired yawn before getting unsteadily to her feet and rushing after her. “Are you going to show me how to cook?” She asked excitedly, her prior frustrations forgotten. “If you stick around long enough you’ll be an expert in no time,” Shala laughed as she gathered some firewood from their stores and got to lighting a fire. “See now, cooking is women’s business — and I for one would rather spend my day cooking than sat listening to all the problems of the town. Can’t make a person happy listening to all those problems, that’s for sure.” Rima thought on that for a few seconds and nodded slightly. “Hmm, I guess that’s true.” She acknowledged. “Hearing Huna’s problem was enough to make me sad, I can’t imagine what hearing everyone’s issues would do. Far better to be making happy food!” Shala chortled at this. “I see old Huna’s already getting her quirky ideas into your head. She did the same to me when I first married Jur-Boh. But I guess that’s what any good [abbr=mother in law][i]maiyara[/i][/abbr] would do.” Rima nodded with a smile, then paused, frowned, and looked at Shala. “Old woman Huna is your [i]maiyara[/i]?” She gasped in shock. “Wait... that means Jur-Boh…” she paused and frowned. “But his name’s Jur-Boh, not Jur-Huda...” “Yeah, the [i]mugahtir[/i] is not his father.” Shala noted offhandedly and reared her head back slightly before shouting, “Ulimi! Did you get any cheese yesterday?” The woman in question shouted back from inside a nearby home. “Yes! The pot’s by the door!” “Will you be a dear and get it for me, Rima?” Shala asked, and the girl nodded and dashed off to do as told. “But Minir-Huda looks older than Jur-Boh,” She said as she hurried back with the pot. “Oh, it’s a long story,” Shala breathed. Rima looked at her expectantly. “Well. The short of it is that the [i]mugahtir[/i] and old Huna got into a quarrel. Maybe a few quarrels actually — and in one such quarrel, Huda declared that he was going to find himself a new wife who is less of a harridan. Old Huna did not like that one bit and told him that she’s finding herself a new husband too! Huda laughed it off obviously, but off she went that stubborn old woman. And after months of pushing and insisting, the patriarchs grew tired of her voice and let her marry anew! Heh. When they protested saying, ‘but Huna, you’re not a man to have more than one spouse!’ she scoffed at them and said, ‘no, I’m a hundred men!’ and, well, that settled it apparently. She married the young Boh-Gar and had Jur by him — but it was not a long marriage you know? He grew sick not more than a year later and died, poor soul. Then Huda spoke with her and they made their peace, and so she returned to his bed. And that’s the story of how my big man came to be — it’s like the gods wove it! Fate and all.” Rima was smiling in wonder at the old woman’s audacity and strength. She had beaten those stupid men! “Fate?” She asked distractedly. “What’s that?” “Well, you know. Fate. Everything happens because the gods will it — Huna was married and had children, but the gods willed that she would have a son — a legitimate one, mind you! — and that it would be by Boh-Gar and none other. And the craziest things happened so that it would be. There’s no resisting the will of the gods, not even the [i]mugahtir[/i] could stop it.” Rima nodded slightly and looked down at how Shala had calmed the fire to embers and was now cooking the ears of corn on it. “Fate,” she murmured as she stared into the embers while Shala turned the corn. “The gods... my [i]idda-ta[/i] never really spoke [i]of[/i] them, he mentioned names from time to time. You all seem to know them better. Better than me at least.” “Of course — the gods made us and deign to know and help us; the least we can do is know and thank them.” “Tell me about them. Tell me about the one called Ura ʿAliaa first.” “Ah, Ura ʿAliaa, Mistress of Light, Lady of Day, Eternal Sun; the Life-giver and Great Punisher, She Who Strikes the Shackles of Sleep and pushes the Great Orb of Morn into the Sky. The eldest of the children of Buʿr Iynas the Great Old Mount. Due to the Great Old Mount’s fury with those bears who once wandered the lands west of the mountains he commanded his daughter, who pushes the orb of the sun up by morn and down by dusk, to make it strike the harsher upon this land. The caravanners say that there is no region in all the world more pounded upon by Ura ʿAliaa’s light and heat than this. But it is not because Ura ʿAliaa is cruel mind you — quite the opposite. She does her father’s bidding; it is absolute justice.” “Why was the Great Old Mount furious? And what are these bears?” “Ah, bears are great mighty creatures that live off in the furthest north, beyond where anyone but the caravanners has ever wondered — great beings with hair all over their bodies, claws like knives and teeth as long as your hand. Their eyes are like night and their growl is like thunder. And in the olden days before the Great Old Mount Buʿr Iynas came down from Mount Arharo and smote them and cursed them, they walked upright like you and me.” Shala finally removed the corn from the embers and put them in a small pot, handing Rima a bowl with cheese in it and gesturing for her to take one of the steaming ears and eat. She then placed more ears on the hot coals. “He is the great father of all the gods, the earth itself, its rocks and mountains and stones. When the mountain rumbles, that’s his voice. When the fire-mountain smokes and fire fills the heavens, that’s his fury. But for all his bad temper, it is from his earth that all life grows, and it is by his tremendous will that the salt water of the sea is kept from consuming the world. That is Buʿr Iynas.” “And why’d he smite all those bears?” “Ah! Yes. Well, that is a long story. You see, it’s all got to do with his youngest daughter Sihri Dra, the lovely one known as Red-clay and who is the Dancing Heart of the Flame and mother of the humenaki, and who sings on the mountain-top and pines even now for her children. You see, when Red-clay was little she climbed up the holy Mount Arharo and peeked over the rim — she wanted to see the sea, you see. But as she looked over the top her glorious and long red feathery hair was whipped all about her and disappeared even beyond the four horizons! And she was dragged from the mountaintop and came here to these redlands. The bears found her, and she lived with them and gave birth to us, the humenaki. But in time the Great Old Mount came to know that his lost daughter had been with the bears all this time, and so he cursed them and took his heartbroken daughter back to the mountain, and from there he took all the gods and went up into the skies, to the Moonmother Qibbar Husnu, mother of the gods and consort of the Great Old Mount. “Now the Moonmother Qibbar Husnu, the Lady of the Sprawling Heavens, Bringer of Night, Whose Shawl is Darkness and Whose Voice is Peace, is the mistress of the great silvery moon. Her heart is the heart of a mother and so from time to time she sneaks poor Red-clay out of the great abode of the gods up in the sky and helps her down to the mountain-peak where she sits and sings for us her children. But her brother, Tiyraah Qirz, Lord of the Snowy Peaks, sees this and releases his winter birds upon her and makes it so cold that all that can be heard is the shriek of the cold. You will see those winter birds near the mountains when Red-clay descends and winter arrives. She sings through the winter until she can sing no more, and then ascends back to the sky and winter departs. He is a cruel brother, is Tiyraah Qirz — and not even the light of Ura ʿAliaa can warm Red-clay as she shivers, cries, and sings. “But being so high on Mount Arharo she is close to the stars and so can often hear the voice of her brother Zharuuʿ who is the master of the stars — by their light is she guided back to the abode of the gods when she is too cold to go on. By the light of the stars are we guided in the depths of the badlands too.” “How is that?” Rima asked, glancing up at the variegated heavens. “Oh I’m not sure. Jur-Boh knows just how — he learned it from the caravanners. He says that the stars are like a reflection of the entire world, and if you look up you can know exactly where you are and how you can get to where you’re going. It is the god Zharuuʿ who has made it like this so that his sister may never become lost while she is ascending to the skies and descending from them. And like our mother Red-clay, we can be guided by those same stars here on the earth. “But anyhow, the gods are too many for me to tell you all about them in great detail —” she took Rima’s hand and began counting them out on the girl’s finger, “ there’s Kiʿranuʿjaza, who is the sea east of the mountain and the sea west of it, Miġra Zaʿl — or Ai’jaal — who gives inspiration for song and is the mad god who made the [i]kayhins[/i] and caused their blood to be ink, Jinasa who is the great roiling jungle and swamplands east of the mountain, Yaruh Dal who is the lord of lightning and bringer of maize and crops, Mir Thuu who is the visage of death and who sends forth the bodytakers to steal away the dead if they are not buried properly and quickly, Hara Fegas who the caravanners say is the monstrous insect god of the [i]fahupki[/i], Keset Mikrah who is the lily-faced, jealous, vile one of the purple moon and the great antagonist, and Kaʿal Nuhrat of whom the [abbr=Servants; lit. slaves of the world-weaving][i]iho kawnnisaj[/i][/abbr] speak.” She put Rima’s hand down and returned to her bowl of corn and cheese. “Ask old woman Huna about them, she knows all the stories.” “[i]Iho kawnnisaj[/i]?” Rima asked curiously. “Ah,” Shala murmured, a frown on her face, “they are strange ones. They dabble with the [i]kawnnisaj[/i] in ways that shouldn’t be dabbled with. They make [abbr=demons][i]bijrus[/i][/abbr] that follow them around and they bend the world to their words in terrifying ways. They are mighty and even [i]kayhins[/i] know to fear them.” Rima frowned as she nibbled at her ear of corn, a far-off look in her eyes. “My [i]idda-ta[/i] never told me about them...” she murmured. “Ah well, he can’t tell you about [i]everything[/i] now can he? Some things you’ll just have to get to know for yourself.” “Well, yeah. But it would have been nice to be a bit prepared you know?” “Pshht, life prepares everybody one way or another. Everything is good in its own time.” “Well, he told me [i]that[/i] for sure.” Rima laughed. “I guess it’s true.” They were soon joined by Jur-Boh who ate at his ear of corn ravenously and finished up with them. “Be a dear and take the rest of these to Ulimi,” Shala said, gesturing to the ten ears left, “the kids will be up soon. Oh, and the pot too!” Rima nodded and picked up the pot, balancing the large bowl on top of it. “No, here like this.” Shala said, picking the bowl up and placing it on Rima’s head. It sat precariously there for a few seconds, and then she brought one of her hands up to keep it in place. “You’ll be able to do it without holding, just need to practice,” Shala reassured her as she got to clearing everything away. Rima hurried off to Ulimi’s abode and placed the pot of cheese back at the entrance. “Uh, I brought some corn,” she said hesitantly, sticking her head inside. “Oh! Thank you!” The woman was soon at the door and accepted the bowl from Rima. “And while you’re here, would you take this and bring us some water?” She gestured to an empty clay water jar. “Just follow the others to the well, it won’t be a minute.” Rima picked the great clay jar up and glanced at Ulimi, who came over and placed a round cloth on her head and helped her put the jug on it. “There, that will make it easier to carry.” Piping a word of thanks, Rima walked off at a careful slow gait. She soon spotted a few women with jars on their heads and children at their backs or by them, and so Rima joined them. Some of the children eyed her curiously and she smiled at the cute little things. “...and we’ll need to give him blood!” One of the women, a babe tied to her chest, was saying. “Ura ʿAliaa protect us! Give him blood?” One asked. “Yes, and he will live with us cursed and all.” The one speaking glanced over at Rima. “You went with the [i]kayhin[/i] didn’t you? Why did you bring Minir-Huda back? Do you want his curse to afflict us too?” “Uh. Well, no. He wanted to make peace that’s all.” Rima responded defensively. “He survives on flesh and blood; how can we possibly make peace with him? Are you sure he didn’t mean he wants to [i]make pieces of us[/i]?” She asked mockingly. “Come now Laha-Nir, you shouldn’t speak to the companion of the [i]kayhin[/i], and our guest, like that.” One of the other women intervened. “Ignore her dear, she’s not been getting enough attention from a man lately that’s what.” Laha-Nir scoffed at this and sped up, dragging a snotting child behind her, who reared his head backwards and stared at them. Rima watched her go, noting how she did not hold onto the jar but still somehow kept it balanced. “You did well to bring Minir-Huda back. Poor Huna may say otherwise but losing another of her boys would have broken her.” Rima smiled and nodded. “And he isn’t a bad man at all.” Rima added. “Oh gods, there are many bad men in the world, no doubt,” the woman spoke, “but Minir-Huda is far from being one of them. I for one am glad he’s back and we’re slowly putting this whole thing behind us.” “So, uh, what was that about giving blood?” “Oh yes. Well, the patriarchs have accepted Minir-Huda’s peace and have welcomed him back into the town — but he will not inherit and will never be [i]mugahtir[/i], that is his punishment. As his curse means he can only survive on humenaki blood the patriarchs have accepted that every family will take it in turns to provide him with blood. In return, he will be on patrol every night and will help guard against [i]fahupki[/i] raids.” Rima smiled. “That’s great! I knew it would all end well.” The woman glanced at her and shrugged. “Well. It hasn’t ended yet.” She said. “I’m Fana by the way.” They soon reached the well and Fana showed Rima how to draw water from the well. It was far heavier when she next placed it on her head, and she stumbled sideways into Laha-Nir. The other woman turned on her angrily and pushed her away, causing her to stumble even more, trip, and fall over. Looking up just as the jar came crashing towards her, she gasped and closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable. There was only silence, however. She opened her eyes to find that the jar was hanging above her and the women were all staring wide-eyed. She quickly grabbed it and rose to her feet. One glance at the others confirmed that she had done something bad, and she muttered a quick apology and hugged the jar to her chest before turning around and hurrying away. Children ran past her, others playing and laughing in the warmth of morning. Men and women were sat by the entrances to abodes and would pause in their conversation to glance at her as she dashed hurriedly by. When she entered Ulimi’s abode, her children were eating corn in the yard and looked at her curiously. With knotted brow, she placed the jar by Ulimi’s door. The older woman thanked her and invited her to come have some corn with them, but she excused herself and went straight to Shala’s abode. “Ah, there you a-” the other woman began, but Rima scurried right past her and disappeared into the abode, muttering something about needing to sleep. “Oh.” Shala frowned and looked after her. Getting up from where she was busy sifting through lentil seeds, she went over to the door and looked inside. The girl was lying down on her bedding, facing the wall. “Did something happen? Are you alright?” “N-no. Sorry. Just need to clear my head.” She paused for a few seconds, and then turned over and propped her head up, her headdress once more askew. “There was this woman at the well and, for some reason, she just didn’t like me! I don’t understand why. I didn’t do anything to her. She pushed me and made me...” her words drifted off and she turned back to the wall with an agitated sigh. Shala walked over and sat by her, gently prying her headdress off and patting it down. “Some people are like that, there’s no need to get upset or pay them any mind. Who was it that pushed you?” “It was this woman called Laha-Nir. She was very good at carrying the water jar, but beyond that she was horrible!” “Ah, Laha-Nir. She’s probably angry is all — Minir killed her husband you see? She shouldn’t be taking her anger out on you though, it’s no excuse.” “Oh...” Rima whispered. “I see...” “Well, you haven’t slept all night so you should get some rest. When you wake up I’m sure old woman Huna will be helping you make one of these,” she raised the headdress. Rima smiled at the idea, then nodded and thanked her. Placing the headdress on the ground beside the bedding, Shala got up and returned to the yard and sifting the lentils. On Rima’s request, her [i]idda-ta[/i] agreed to stay in Miha-Rad for longer than planned so she can learn more about ‘how to be a woman’ from old Huna. The young woman stuck to the older one, learning how to weave a headdress and care for her hair, the intricacies of childcare — for as a grandmother to many Huna did much of that —, as well as some of the mysteries of the delightful art of cooking. She taught her how bathe, how to dress properly and which perfumes to use — and where to find and how to make such perfumes if need be. “These [i]kayhins[/i]!” She scoffed in disgust. “It’s a good things their [i]kawnnisaj[/i] keeps them smelling nice, else they’d be chased off everywhere! You though, you don’t have that — and you’re a woman! You need to look after your cleanliness.” Though it was little over a month that she stayed, Huna left no aspects of a well-run home’s needs except that she showed Rima how it was done. “And when you’re done running about with this mad [i]kayhin[/i], you come right back here and I will find you a good man — a few of them have their eye on you already,” she smiled mischievously at the younger woman, “you’re of that age now, you need to think seriously about it!” Rima only reddened and looked away. She did not see Minir-Huda again, although his wife often popped by to check on her mother-in-law, carrying one thing or another for the [i]mugahtir’s[/i] household. When her [i]idda-ta[/i] and her left Miha-Rad at last, the town came out and gave them a festive farewell, and they piled gifts on Rima — a camel loaded with fabrics, foodstuff, clothes, and jewellery. Many of them were from the men, rather than the women, for the crafty Huna had been going around suggesting toa number of them that there was perhaps a possibility that the young woman was looking to settle in Miha-Rad when her travels were done. “And what are your thoughts on your fellow people?” He asked her once they were some ways out of the town. “Oh, there was much good. And like you said, there was bade too. Some things were downright odd and I just didn’t understand them — I still don’t really — but I guess it is what it is. Will there be things like that wherever we go?” “No doubt.” The [i]kayhin[/i] responded simply. “It is what makes mortal beings beautiful, and what makes them ugly too. Perhaps you cannot have one without the other — perhaps all things are only truly known by their opposite. Day is not night; night is note day. Man is not woman; woman is not man. Sound is not silence; silence is not sound. Movement is not stillness; stillness is not movement. And if there is something without an opposite, could we know it? Who knows?” Rima smiled at her [i]idda-ta[/i]. She had missed his voice and his presence. “Yeah,” she murmured with a thoughtful smile, “who knows.” [centre][img]https://i.imgur.com/XRcyBUw.png[/img][/centre] [indent][list][*][hider=Summary]Rima and the kayhin return with Minir-Huda, and he makes his peace with the patriarchs of the town - they will now supply him with blood and he will continue living in the town and protecting it, although he will never inherit or gain any position of authority in Miha-Rad. Rima is upset by not being able to watch the proceedings and stomps off to Shala's house. When Shala wakes up she comforts her and they have breakfast. Shala tells Rima some stories, including a few things about the gods. Rima then helps around and gets bullied by some lady. Shala again comforts her. Rima stays in the town for a month or so and learns under the tutelage of old Huna. She and her idda-ta then depart, seaward west![/hider] [*][hider=Prestige]+5 Points to Rima-Tinrur (~29,000 chars) - 20 points in total. [/hider] [/list][/indent]