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Phosphoros

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E f r a y i m W a r a q a t e a d a '

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Baccum was truly the most disorganized organized civilization. It allowed for a more synchronized style of attributes to become a confusing mess of incoherence for outsiders to try and decipher. Efrayim took much pride in this philosophy of his home, even when the internal feeling of sick disgust of the Cult of Marra follower snatched the egg right from his fellow brother's hand. There was something so repulsive about lies that exuded silently from another's being, and hers smelt stronger than what he was used to putting up with; and her body and slithered through the group, gently coiling her footsteps as ladylike as possible. She was just nimble and pliant enough to steal the the gem without as much of a shadow's notice. If the other Baccumese had not done something, Efrayim would have most certainly been the first to concern himself with her actions. There was too little respect for her in his book of obligations for her well-being, and he was more than willing to extend any blood lust and torture legends about the Baccumese upon her.

Civility had stopped him or rather the quickness of other Baccumese, who had already swooped the egg and made his way towards the tavern wall, behind the Elder. With all reviling measures, he was thankful after her strange display of comfort in pain. There was endurance for pain, and then there was an addiction for it. She was a vile creature, and all the same, scoffed at her behavior, outwardly snarling at her. A hefty hand quickly found itself around the hilt of his dagger, as he re-positioned himself, back-glancing several of the newer arrivals for charlatan intimidation. There were several of them. Some were more noticeable than others, one in particular being a lithe man. He was unassuming in many ways, and Efrayim suddenly took his eyes from him to watch the Elder's response, as if for this moment his eyes had ears, as well.

"The Elder is right!" He spoke in calling with authority and a mock in his voice. His body was ready for action, although holding itself taller now. "We're wasting time by all these needless questions," his body shifted towards the blind woman as he imagined the unruliness of the group mob -- especially hers, "like a disobedient bride," his lips pressed together as he finished speaking and then slowly parted and grinned, again, to reveal gritted teeth -- hungry for something, perhaps. He had wanted to hold the egg for himself and was unashamedly annoyed with the disturbance. He let the anger roll onto the culprit of his disdain. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, followed by teeth that scraped over his skin, a warning for his own to control any want to destroy the heretic on sight.

And as fate had it, the gods decided to spare Efrayim's wrath. There was not much time for him to stew in his anger, when a handful of peasants came running to the tavern, breaking through the speech. He let his spirits simmer and float to the sky, as he looked towards the beginning of the small town. Soldiers were already hurtling through the streets, upon them, and Farrin was certain they could not fight them off. The Baccumese, in his glory, was certain there was more this group could do. He knew certainly his own fighting capabilities and was unwilling to believe the ones around him were so much weaker than he was after such a childish display. As well, he had Charu.

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The elephant had been near the stables, unable to be in them due to her size. She was a bit away, not to accidentally bully or draw so much attention from the horses. Her size made it easy for scare, like a good Baccumese, which meant she was made for much more than just aesthetics. She had found a jade succulent plant to munch, and as Efrayim veered from the stables to unhinge her, Charu's trunk was sniffing at the ground where the plant had been and now was not. Her trunk immediately perked and raised in the air to the sounds of her master's footsteps. She was in line with his attention before he even whistled to her. His lips perched over his two fingers and made a quick blow, steady with the swift pounding of his feet against the sandy ground, "Charu!" Her body conditioned itself, readying her stance before Efrayim's body took a quick leap of a step, that turned him into a panther of a man, climbing upon her tapestry and tassels, as if a tree.

Efrayim tugged on her, pressing his leather boots into the wear of her armor, as his body stood, with flexed and bent legs atop of her for balance. A sharp whistle budded from his lips, a slightly different sound from the sharp one made earlier followed by the quip, "Yalla!" and Charu began moving forward. Her body was paced briskly with clinking armor and dust arousing from her rapid march. Efrayim motioned his body, grabbing hold of her tempo and pulled out one of his tulwar. It was held out front, with his arm bent in defense, bracing for the impact of the damage that Charu was about to ensue. A sharp whistle came from his lips, again, and Charu made a triumphant blow from her horn as her sworded tusks struck from a house and her body crumpled the architecture forward -- walls cracked and broke in various directions with a thunderous roar that shook the ground nearby. He kept her charging, having gnashed the body of a Kothar soldier with her heel.

Efrayim gave her another whistle, and without much thought, slid from the elephant, who sounded from her trunk again, and using a similar feline agility, he landed close to the broken down rubbish, still stirring dust in the air. His body continued to stay low to the ground, carefully maintaining his balance, as he spotted an injured Kothar spwarled and lying near the debris. His arm was twisted in an odd manner, with the bone of his wrist was trying to protrude through his un-gloved, yellowing skin. With several quick steps, his footing was upon the man's healthy wrist, crunching the bones of his hands from their joints, "You're wrists," his sword thrust through the slit of the man's armor and into his throat and twisted his own wrist, "are weak," he jested. The action was deep and committed as a common task, before being raised and on guard for it's next victim. Like magic, the head of the solider appeared to have been decapitated -- sallow and bloodied next to the Baccumese's own footing, now dismissed from atop the corpse.

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Phosphoros

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E f r a y i m W a r a q a t e a d a '

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_{S E V E R A L W E E K S A G O || B A C C U M || A P E L I T R I B E}

It would be another long journey for Efrayim, and tonight, his tribe was celebrating his deployment. The tribute of who would be chosen for this mission had been discussed with much thought and diligence before being given to Efrayim. No strings were pulled and no favors were placed upon the wooden table when the elders took their spiritual flights to discover who would be elected from the tribe. It had been a tough decision, even for Efrayim, who willingly accepted the request. The journey would be longer than usual, and his return was expected but not necessarily a passage he would be granted. This expectation was unspoken, as always, but this time, he took it much more seriously.

A ceremony was being held in his name -- for honor and vitality. The main excitement of recognition had already happened, and Efrayim was relaxing and sitting next to his fiance Esteral, in front of the great bonfire. She was looking at the stars in the evening sky, reading them perhaps. Efrayim was outwardly paying more mind to the others from the tribe, who were dressed in lavish head-garb and dancing like serpents with their shadows. The penumbra of their bodies touched and folded, weaving in and out as they circled around the fire with sparks and smoke. Their feet thumped against the dry ground in rhythm with the drums and horns playing festive music. He thought this celebration was too much for his journey but said nothing of it against his tribe's whims and prayers -- all respected by the blessings of his father, who was the Shaman of the Apeli.

Esteral was taking this journey much more seriously than she usually did. Her thoughts were inline with Efrayim's, and if he had his way tonight, he would have spent it alone with her instead of with the rest of his family and tribe. He knew she was bothered by his leaving, more so than usual, and he thought it to be his own fault. There was comfort in knowing she would miss him. A piece of her would be noticeably missing, as some kind of longing that only he could fill, but to know she was suffering all the same was another matter in itself. They could have very well have been wed together and had their union consummated before his leaving, but the stars never aligned correctly when he was home.

She was a strong woman, he believed, and her outside appearance spoke nothing of her emotions. He admired this stoic quality in her triumphantly, and he appreciated her all the more for promising to devote herself to him, in honor of the gods. He took a swig from his drinking vessel by tipping it nearly upside down and emptying its last contents from the bowl. The mug was sqiftly clipped to the side of his leather belt, and his attention turned towards Esteral. Her dark hair was braided into a long ponytail and twisted into a floral looking bun. He thought her to be lovely like this, and he lifted a hand and gently brushed several dark strands that were too small to be tied from the nape of her neck, "We should dance." His hand clasped the back of her neck, fanning his fingers and drawing her attention with heated palms.

She shrugged her bare shoulder, feeling his hand command down her back, "Just because everyone else is dancing?" She gave him a petty smile, knowing already she would comply. Her body turned to face him more after seconds of feinting. Her inked skin tensed as she prepared herself to begin joining the festivities.

"Always, Habib. Tell me if you see me chewing khat," his brown eyes wandered, "like the elder men with no beautiful women to fulfill their wishes tonight," he held her more tightly and shook his head, "We shall not be seeing each other for a long time and ought to spend it in conviviality rather than moping like the feeble and old," he chuckled, and a knowing grin spread on his face as he turned his head upwards and confidently towards the dancing. The drum beats were beginning to sound in faster and louder tempos. His hand slipped over her shoulder and down arm, and cupped around her wrist. He felt the weight of her body trust his command. It was a good feeling, and he finished his pull by sliding his palm under hers and linking their fingers as he lead her to dance.

Instantly, Efrayim and Esteral were dancing together, no longer resting on wooden thrones. Efayim clapped his hands together, slowly moving his body to one knee, while Esteral, snaked her arms into the air, pretending to pick spiritual grapes from the gods as her lower torso swayed back-and-forth. Variations of the dance retold itself throughout the night, and sometime during their merrymaking, when the two danced more closely together, Esteral told him she had a special gift for him, as a good charm to keep him safe while he went to Mennon and to expect it in the morning, before his father blessed his departure.

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_{T H R E E D A Y S A G O || M E N N O N || D E S E R T E D T O W N}

Due to her enormous size, Efrayim's elephant, Charu, was too large for any stables, unlike the fancy ones they both knew in Apeli. Her large body and wild looking tusks may have caused much alarm in Mennon, but due to the war and her behavior, she was seen as something protective to anyone that might be on her owner's good side. It was true. She was a loyal companion and would not deal any harm unless under command or pressure. Efrayim knew this full well, but he was also not too eager to break the masquerade of the Baccumese. For such, this resulted in the evening's cleaning, a thin layer of olive oil rubbed upon the bloodied blades of his knife and swords. Extra precaution was being taken as he sat next to Charu. She was tired from the journey, which was surprisingly more outstanding than he had expected. He himself, was fairly wide awake.

This town was only a days worth of travelling away from where he truly wanted to stop, and there were hardly any shops open, not that Efrayim had been planning on spending much time in them. Perhaps, small talk of sorts, but the small kill he had found along the way was sufficient for the night's meal. Anything else he needed could be acquired without the use of petty merchants. The display prior to his sword cleaning was beheading a snake and skinning it. He fired it and ate it quite quickly and as grotesquely as he could. This feat was anything but hard considering his artificial habits were easy to maneuver, especially when unacquainted by any of his tribe. He had also not eaten for some days, retaining mostly on water and a suppressed appetite of the tea from the evergreen leaves of khat. He thought it amusing without Esteral he was one of the elder men, so reliant on herbal remedies to keep his body from tiring without a woman to persuade him.

This was not entirely true, though. The previous thought was all in jest. These things were done for Baccum. Efrayim was obligated to follow certain instructions, and he too much enjoyed the the weary traveling spirits that guided him from town-to-town as he basked in the dream state, still alert, confident, and able to keep Charu's weariness better company. It also made the first gluttonous meal more disgusting in appearance when reaching a new town. This time, it was complete with cobra blood, which he found fortunate a find as he could pray, even if the bleak surroundings were not much of an audience for the lewdness displayed in his consumption. It was nothing short of a mess, smeared on his face and torso, and now he was cleaning his steel, humming a small lullaby to the elephant so near to him.

His own muscular body rested sideways against the large stench of a gray mammal beside him. His feet were popped upwards, one over the other, resting on the sandy outskirts of the town. His oil lamp was lit in front of him. The skies were looking lively tonight. He was feeling full from his meal and satisfied with the glide of his sword, quickly and carefully being covered by their sheaths, again. The rest of his mess was well staged, and there was not any likelihood of surprise attack. The beastly garb outfitting Charu was dangerous enough in appearance, and angering an elephant had never been wise for an inexperienced being. Efrayim's own knowledge allowed him to most if not all of the few still lingering in the town fell into such a wimpy category.

The stars were beautiful. He noted this every night, imagining Esteral looking at them, as well. He hoped she was long asleep by now, though. The night before his departure she had given him a small heirloom, a pendant. He denied her request to wear it, and instead, he tucked it into his pouch. He enjoyed looking at it, not necessarily remarked by the materialism of the object, even if he enjoyed the fine gold embossed mold of the medallion. She had tucked something away in it, and there was a puzzle to open it. While, Efrayim had already learned the proper pieces to pull. Tonight, he was wearing it around his neck, a relaxing gesture close to the beat of his heart.

The Baccumese man leaned his body forward, letting the chamber of his pipe heat from the lamp. His lips inhaled delicately as if to play a woodwind instrument, careful not to affront the gods in beginning another verse to the ballad of his journey. The irritant displeasure he had been feeling earlier disappeared, and a rush of euphoric wind combed through his mind as he settled back into Charu's stomach, as the smoke took flight and arose from his nostrils and mouth. He silently recited a small prayer to Kalpii as the ashen clouds arose and dispersed, Wabla, as did Kalpii, the Secretary of Bodiless Powers. His eyes took lazy flutters as they closed and his breathing depressed into a musing trance. 'Amin.

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_{P R E S E N T || M E N N O N || T A V E R N}

There were only few outside the tavern that caused much alarm in Efrayim, and most of those who warranted any such mindfulness from him were gathered around the Elder. He took several notes of them all, fancying ways to relay what he had seen when he retired to Apeli after the mission was completed. He was a fairly firm believer that first impressions made for good plot twists in the telling of stories, but even then, his guard was still searching beyond the covers that were presenting themselves at the gathering.

However, as the Elder spoke, Efrayim listened intently to the words of the old man, not paying the other too much attention. His eyes watched as the man's wrinkles moved with less elasticity as he made his movements and gestures. He was an intriguing figure, no less. The Baccumese man found himself sizing up the elder several times, inquiring in his mind about Farrin but not saying anything, with his right arm, extended and bent and having his palm rested on his muscular thigh. He was in a relaxed state of mind, but it might as well been understood that he was alert with all intents and purposes. He was quite attracted to what the Elder was saying, and his tongue slid from his mouth, swiping his bottom lip with interest.

His large body leaned forward as the Elder was questioned. A slight nod motioned with him, as he looked to the other Baccumese man. He was a strong looking fellow, all too familiar in his attire and appearance. He had empathy for the man and decided to tip him more reverence than he would the usual guest on the street. They were related through nationalities, and it was only right to honor the Code of Baccum, "Allow me the privledge of seeing and holding the gem, as well," he quipped, arching his large body back, stretching out the strength of his chest as he motioned towards the other Baccumese man. His resting arm moved, as well, and after quickly looking over the other Baccumese, his eyes darted towards Farrin's direction, "Of all my years surviving in Baccum, I've never heard anything similar," a wiry grin twisted on his face, unsure of what the Elder knew of Baccum. He was eager to know and eager to see how the man would respond.

The Elder seemed a man of many words with different insights on different cultures. Efrayim scoffed at the thought of himself misreading the man. There was reason to be weary of the man, but Efrayim was hoping the words held the highest of truths. If not, he would go home and attend to the matrimonial celebration between Esteral and himself. While the latter seemed to have taken much to his mind, he was very much concerned with the sorcerer. It was his homeland at stake.

His head tilted, leaning his jawline against the fur of his gorget. He let out a confident pout of hot air as his eyebrows knitted in concentration, ready to accept and decipher any messages the Elder had to relay to him as he waited for the other Baccumese to try his way with the gem. It was impossible for the old man to be making up such stories. The gods had chosen him to help protect Baccum, but he honestly had no real way of knowing what the other Baccumese was thinking. It was not every journey that he had to rope conversation with a foreign Baccumese amongst outsiders. He would let the rhinoceros of a man take the first strikes.