Nemaisare

Rising Winds and Shifting Sands

Other Notes

Desert Travel

-three roads nearer the edges, one along the coast, and two at the inland border
-camel caravans travel the farthest and do not often stop between cities at smaller towns
-jinn lead caravans that can take carts and more people between towns and cities on hardened sand, payment is required to continue after each settlement

Jinn vs. Slaves

The difference between jinn and slaves is, first, that slaves are human, while jinn are restrained beings of magic.
Second, jinn are only found in the desert. They do not do well beyond its borders.(there might be other mythological critters in similar positions elsewhere in the world, or that live under their own power even within the desert, dunno yet, do we :P)
Third, anyone can own a slave provided they have the money to buy one or the law on their side to keep an indebted under their power. Jinn are owned by the city government and act, generally, as civil servants, for the good of the many. Some are entrusted as life servants to individuals by way of a status symbol(just as often achieved through bribery of officials as it is genuinely meant, there does have to at least be a sort of good reason for it, even if bribery happens).
Fourth, slaves have a chance to escape slavery through hard work, running away(and not getting caught), or being favoured. Or, if they are indebted, managing to work off the debt. Jinn remain servants and outside the system of citizenship in every city they inhabit, with no chance of becoming something more.
Fifth, the standards for keeping slaves are generally better established and enforced than those for jinn. They are both required to be given the minimal neccessities of life: shelter, food and water, but a slave might also be given a slight wage. Jinn are rarely given currency. A slave being mistreated does have legal recourse and might even gain something by speaking with the right person. A jinn being mistreated is just going to have to live with it. A slave that misbehaves may be punished as their owner sees fit, provided the owner keeps within the limits set out by law. A jinn that misbehaves is usually out of luck.
Most small towns don't abuse their jinn. It's the larger cities where bad blood festers or individual contracts that are the worse danger.
Both jinn and slaves would be the first to suffer during economic stress or drought or food shortages.
Both occupy the bottom rung of society.
Some poorer people might choose to enter slavery voluntarily if it means better living conditions or the chance to join an established family.
Jinn have their own side society.

Use of Jinn in Society

-servants
-labourers(sometimes as animals)
-guards
-caravan guides
-pretty much anything you might ask other people to do for you

Rising Winds and Shifting Sands

Oh, also, I've been having fun in the character section, you might have noticed... >.>

If you ever have a thought you'd like added into one of the posts, or would rather have your own list of NPCs or notice that I'm missing something, or whatever, seriously, just give me a poke. :) Have fun with it. :D We shall make awesome stuff! Some of it I don't entirely know why I'm writing it down, but hey, it might be relevant later. One never knows. :P I just don't want you worried that since I've made the post, you ain't allowed to touch nothing! Cuz, like, you totally are. I just really like this three thread grouping format and plan to take full advantage of the awesome. Yepyepyepyepyepyep

Rising Winds and Shifting Sands

Short, maybe a little too short, had to get it done a little faster halfway through, whoops... But the encounter with the guards wasn't the part I wanted to focus on anyway, so it's all good. :P

The tricks I'm planning shall involve his escape and the final rites, hence the lack of urn dumping. My brain came up with a nice scene for that, so that's gonna happen at some point. :P

And yeah, I'll remember that, I'm getting better at telling people these things. Feel free to tell me if you've got a specific direction you're hoping for too. :) I like character interaction too, a good mix of chatter and quiet times and action-y excitement works for me juuuust fine. ;) I've found I have an excessive enjoyment of cultural question and answer sessions. Fun times, making beliefs up, seriously. (And yeah, I'm enjoying myself too, most wondrously)

Rising Winds and Shifting Sands

He heard that sigh.

It was, so he believed, a good sign. It surely meant a decision had been made and, regardless of what came next, he would be happy that the wait was over. The woman hadn’t taken long to reach her conclusion, but when it made the difference between success and failure, even a single breath seemed an eternity.

Her voice came again, just as quiet as before, but with far less anger it in. And no shouting, a very good sign, indeed. Beneath the canvas, Curdle’s whole body felt suddenly limp and shaky, the relief was tangibly heavy and weighed down every muscle. He did not mind that her reasoning was more for herself than to help him. This was not an instance where charity would be applauded; there was no reason for her to act otherwise. Trembling, he made sure he knew his right from his left, in case his mind had ceased basic function, and took another light breath before trapping the air in his throat and lungs.

The simplest of magic. He’d used it twice already today, and was tired enough that a third might well prove too much. Still, the attempt was worth the effort if it succeeded. So, the aging jinni held his breath and worked to empty his mind. It was the mind that shaped the presence of an individual, after all, without a mind, he might as well be part of a crowd, unremarkable and unimportant. Of course, it would only last for as long as he could hold his breath and avoiding clarity of conscience. He did not dawdle in getting out from under the canvas, though he did try to make the act as normal as possible. A most difficult endeavour, to be sure. And his face was turning red with the effort when he finally stood and glanced towards where she’d claimed the guard would be.

The alley, he saw immediately, and the guard a moment later. He seemed as yet unperturbed. Good.

Despite the risk, and his now rather disheveled mien, Curdle spared a second to face the owner of his safe hiding place and bowed enough to make his gratitude clear. He had no other means with which to thank her, he couldn’t speak, and his lungs were beginning to burn, restraining magic as they were.

Thanks given, he straightened and walked deliberately away from both her and the guard, pace increasing the farther he walked, until he was once again running as he turned a corner out of sight. He didn’t make it much farther before he had to lean against a wall, gasping for breath and desperately swallowing the coughs trying to escape. Too close, too loud. Someone would hear and look and notice. Not that leaning against a wall looking ready to vomit (and that may not have been an exaggeration as his stomach began to twist itself around a lump of hunger and fear-wrought adrenaline) was in any way less out of the ordinary. He could recover his dignity a little faster though, and started walking again without any of the speed he’d achieved earlier.

His throat was dry. His joints were stiff. His chest ached. His mood was unpleasantly hopeful. He had no reason to look forward to what would come next. But now that he did not have the urn weighing at his shoulder, his steps seemed strangely light. And Curdle even smiled at the market guard as they shouted and fussed about his sudden appearance. He made no attempt to fight back when they restrained him, and held his silence when they demanded to know what he’d done with the Lady. It was only as they marched him away that his heart sank yet again.

What if that merchant did not do with the urn as he hoped? Was his final act for Fiira going to be giving away her trust?

As he stumbled and felt his knees hitting the floor of a holding cell, hands tied behind him, Curdle realised he had made the wrong choice. Fiira had not given up on him, believing him capable of this one thing. He had stopped trying too soon.

Rising Winds and Shifting Sands

Allrighty, we'll aim for #1 then. :)

I have to admit, thinking through my ideas, if you can manage to at the very least not have Miria call the guards over, that would be most helpful. I don't need her to dump the urn though, changed my mind there, just need it to still be in her cart when Curdle gets out of the city.

That being said, if your first instinct is that Miria would give him up, or might accidentally give him up, or that guards might notice the Curdle lump... Go for it. If I can't figure out how to get out of it with a jinni as my character, I'm really not much of an rper. lol :P

Rising Winds and Shifting Sands

Please do not…

He breathed the words, making them entirely inaudible despite his sudden urge to beg it of her. Desperation, however, would have had him shouting them. And that, very likely, would have defeated his purpose. Best, then, that he forget desperation and remember that begging would win him nothing.

Two breaths later, when she still had not called out, he realised that she was inadvertently giving him the chance he had asked for. That, or she was taking her time to gauge the risk to her wares and herself should she call anyone down on him. She had little to worry about; Renna’s guards were mostly well-aligned with their duties. He was, admittedly, surprised he had not yet been sniffed out. Maybe they were keeping the jinn among their ranks at the gates to be sure he did not try to magic his way out. He could not be certain, which meant the longer he remained, the greater his likelihood of being found where he did not want to be found. They must not search this cart.

He waited one more breath, holding it tightly before letting it go to wrap around the urn now beyond his reach, hoping it would be enough to keep it safe until this cart was beyond any walls.

Now that he was listening, listening so closely his heartbeat echoed off the cart’s walls, he could just barely hear her moving nearby. He hoped she was not being secretive in her alerting of the guards, but he had no more control over this situation. She held all the winning cards. There was nothing else he could do. That, being a situation he was accustomed to, surprisingly comforted Curdle, and he found himself relaxing slightly as he waited for her next move. He had given his word. It was her turn to prove trust or not.

When her answer, such as it was, arrived in the form of angry questions, he hunched his shoulders against the accusations hiding in her words and gasped out his protest before he could think of a better response. “I am no runaway, messi.”

As though that might reassure her. Ha! Well played, fool jinni.

He scrambled to fill in the suddenly weighted silence, not wanting to claim a worse crime as his own, but unable to fully explain what he was doing without risking discovery of the urn before everything was in place. “I did not mean to run.” He amended, hoping it would fix his mistake. “Only, the Lady Gerun has died and there is a task now that weighs on my shoulders. She gave it me knowing those in Renna would not like seeing it done. Yet I must, messi, before they send me back.”

He spoke with great feeling, for all it was a very abridged and undetailed version of the story. There was some possibility that she would not approve of the task either. For all that, and the risk of being overheard, he continued quietly, solemnly. If he could not convince her of his sincerity, it might very well mean that all was lost. He had to do his best. “I was signed in blood to Fiira, messi. No one else. They will stop me only with a forever-cage.” He’d never known any jinn to escape a sentence once it had been passed. Being sent to the gaol was either a long sentence, or a quick death. “I have more fear of my veins boiling dry should I fail, messi. Please do not call the guards.”

That was not, strictly speaking, true. He did not suspect any such thing would happen, save perhaps his conscience flaying him in spiritual equivalent, should he not succeed. It would likely not occupy his mind for long, most especially if he was caught. He was, however, possessed of the knowledge that there were methods, during a contract signing, to ensure a more troublesome jinni suffer consequences should he, or she, require punishment or restraining. Most were aware that it was possible, and there were several theories about the results. Some did not keep the method only for quarrelsome jinn. And one aligned closely with his expressed concern.

He did suspect, however, that he would be far more afraid of his blood boiling, if such were a possibility, than he would be any guards in such a situation. It was a heavily implied lie, but not an outright stated one. May the Five Winds forgive him.

If that did not weigh on her sympathies, perhaps she would feel more inclined to avoid unleashing a desperate jinni near her wares. Or on the guard that would answer her call. Curdle did not like playing with words in this way. But it was his last and only chance. So, he used any card given to him that might sway the moment in his favour. Beneath the canvas, his fingers were twisted in supplication of whatever force or spirit might care to answer.

Rising Winds and Shifting Sands

I'd prefer to have Curdle not really know how to navigate, simply because I don't think it's ever been part of his need to know repertoire. He might potentially have picked up something just from conversation, but that's not really the best way to be safe when suddenly running into the desert. lol

Sooo.... I suppose we have three options. Unless I'm missing something, which I could be...

1) Miria leaves with a caravan and that's how Curdle finds her. Which would bring up other possible problems given as there's more people around who may or may not be aware that Curdle is an escaped jinni.

2) Curdle might have the potential to follow the caravan's jinni if they stay close enough, though Miria's cart could be problematic. Which could mean she might have left with the caravan and Curdle's arrival makes them say uhhh nope, bye, you're out, or she didn't leave with them, thinking that she'd be able to remember the way to her next destination without trouble.

3) We bring in a third party who is not part of the caravan and does know what they're doing without jinn magic.

4) Yep, there's the bit I didn't think of. lol Miria can find her way to her next destination without help. And it's mostly by road. Probably a short distance then, though, which would mean they wouldn't want to stay long.

5) Curdle can navigate.

I'll probably be happy with any of those. Though 1 or 2 would be the better of the four, methinks. Possibly. Maybe...

Rising Winds and Shifting Sands

Allright, we'll see how second impressions go. Lol and hope they're mostly good. That, or we'd just ensure that once Curdle does get out she'd be either first contact or safest contact. Or she could help him out some other way. We'll find out what's necessary I suppose.

I'll be doing some homework stuff today and possibly tomorrow if I'm slow, so posting shall sadly have to wait for that, but soon soon. :)

Rising Winds and Shifting Sands

Cities

Renna

-on an oasis
-pretty darn old
-has a catacomb system for their dead, from highest ranking to low: mausoleum, individual sealed rooms, hollow in wall, skull and long bones cleaned and set in piles, lowly slaves and beggars left outside the city wall in a nearby pit for scavengers to clean up before the bones are added to the catacombs(some favoured slaves might go directly into the catacombs)
-is part of the continental salt trade, it is a central hub within the desert, the link between the coast and its salt flats and the edge of the desert(which means it's probably a hub for other things that come in by sea and won't be ruined by extreme temperature shifts)
-all trade in either direction passes through it
-there's probably a city on the edge of the desert that plays a similar role

Sherahd

-coastal city
-major trading port, very rich, strong economy
-walled
-makes use of a nearby cliff and its many caves (and it being a migratory stop for a number of vultures) to be rid of the dead, least important are merely tossed into the waves, the higher their class, the higher the cave in which the dead are placed. Only the leading families are placed at the top.
-run unofficially by two families: Leres in name, but Gerun in power and influence
-the guard that keeps law and order in the city is considered elite, both in training and ability, generally has 1 jinni to every 3 humans (only in the guard)
-within its walls, it is vibrant and clean
-within the lower city and sectioned off from the main routes, poverty is rampant and the crime rate is rather high
-the guard maintains their reputation by clamping down severely on crime outside the slums as well as not hesitating to step into the slums where every citizen is warned against setting foot

Rising Winds and Shifting Sands

Notable NPCs

Lady Fiira Gerun(dead)
-Curdle's master
-born on the coast somewhere desert meets ocean, Sherahd city, Leres merchant family
-betrothed young
-married into the Gerun family(part of the Renna nobility)
-salt trade
-neighbourlady is Ynip

Raha
-a donkey

Tamal
-him
-Miria's family's jinni
-jackal ears
-white hair
-he sounds wicked... >.>

Deer Jinni
-awesome

Boy
-amusing

Mentioned city names
Renna -oasis city
Assryn -near Renna
Hudris
Sherahd -coastal trading hub