Located on the sandy, rocky beach the sounds of the sea are ever-present in Hakirrash. Colorful flowers bloom around the land, and of recent years, potent spices grow as well - their exotic and luxurious scents drifting through the village, riding the slightly salty coastal air currents!

---

A young lady bounces up and down in her seat, working at the loom. She has gotten almost no work done today, but she just cant help it! Her eldest brother Joura is likely to return today, and though it is early, she already knows she is going to be distracted all day!

She wonders what he will bring back with him from his latest expedition! Her father - the village chief - doesn't know this, but she has stowed away a couple times on Joura's boat! He had been enraged the first time, and kept her in the crate she had squeezed into as punishment. It had been suuuper boring, but Joura had apologized later so she guesses it was okay.

After she did it two more times, Joura gave up and just started letting her run around on the ship. Despite his clear disapproval, he hadn't said anything to her father, clearly, or he would have put a stop to it. Her old man was even worse about letting her go too far from the village to play then Joura had been, after all.

Asherah loved life. She found it so much fun! Even when it wasn't, it was okay, she felt. Sure, work was boring, though the colors were pretty - but as long as she got all her work done her mum and dad let her play all she wanted.

Asherah was almost an adult now though, according to village customs, and so her nag of a mum had been trying to get her to act more mature for her age. Her father felt it was pointless, he clearly thought of Asherah as a blessed soul who would seemingly forever have that spark of childlike wonder that so many lost...

She harrumphed remembering that. At the time it had been really wholesome but also embarassing, but now she thought he was just an idiot who didn't realize how womanly and awesome she was.

Asherah snaps out of her recollection, hearing the sounds of shouting outside, coming from the harbor area, being carried upwind to her family home, which sits closest by the beach.

Her brother is back! But... she still has work. Should she jump up and greet him, anyway?

What will Asherah do?

Asherah would, of course, leap up and head over to welcome her brother. In the time it would take for her brother to make it home Asherah wouldn't have completed much more work. So technically going and greeting him now would be significantly more productive. At least that was her logic.

Asherah would trip once her twice in her excitement but still make it there pretty quickly. Once there she'd eagerly look around for her brother.

Asherah quickly spots her brother Joura. The man is tall, with bronzed skin and the darkest hair in the family. He is quite handsome, except for the bags underneath his eyes from nights spent contemplating many things.

Noticing Asherah, her brother smiles and waves her over with open arms. "Little sister," he cries out, "I have missed you dearly!"

Asherah notices an unfamiliar individual is standing beside Joura. He wears a strange mantle, made of colorful feathers and painted in inks. His lower half only has a loincloth, and his features are foreign.

The man gives her a polite smile but ultimately is not focused on her, but on Joura.

The rest of the sailing vessel's crew are cheering as they roll around on the deck of the harbor. The few veterans who have made the trip to the Credi Isles quite a number of times show more restraint, but do still seem clearly relaxed by the presence of solid, dry land.

Your father is also present, directing local laborers that are just wandering around the area to help unload the contents of the ship's voyage. A close eye is being kept on them, but you do catch it as your father and eldest brother exchange a short look, followed by an acknowledging nod. They would probably celebrate later, once the trade goods had been counted and sorted.

You get the feeling that the gleam that passes through their eyes helps them to communicate the quality of their loot, but it's too intricate and quick for you to do more than notice. Hopefully the results were good.

Asherah would rush over to Joura and allow herself to be enveloped by a hug. "I missed you as well brother! Wha-" Asherah had been about to ask what he had brought back from his expedition but caught herself. As blunt and brash speaking as she was, even Asherah knew better than to discuss profit in front of a client.

Once she relinquished her brother she'd turn to the strange man. "Welcome sir!" she'd say cheerily. She'd give the unfamiliar face a sort of deep head nod; more then a nod, not quite a bow. "Might I inquire what kind of birds those feathers came from?" She'd ask, her voice laden with curiosity. She had always enjoyed the fauna part of harvesting ornamentation for the Village's artistry. She thought it strange that he was just wearing a lion's cloth though. Didn't her village trade clothes with the islanders? What if he was from a newly discovered island? This got Asherah very excited, enough so that she'd look up at the stranger and meet his eyes.

Joura accepts Asherah's hug, and pats her back affectionately before they separate.

When Asherah speaks to the man, he seems slightly surprised. But, he returns her nod exactly as she gave it. The gesture is a bit awkward coming from him, but he carries himself with enough grace to make it work.

The man cocks his head at her question, and looks to Joura who gives a wry smile to them both. Joura gestures for Asherah to wait a moment, before signaling their father to hurry up and come over. The patriarch of the family grumbles but hands the duty of overseeing the unloading to an elderly gentleman - the father to one of Joura's original crewmates, and a man with good sense. He'll do.

As your father - Nahur Sha-hakir - approaches, the foreign man looks up and bows deeply to the man, instantly recognizing him as the top dog of these lands. Your father has a gently imposing presence about him, which is surprising given his rather unassuming height and built. His face however, is one of great seriousness towards all but members of his family.

Short cut white hair neatly frames a wrinkled face of deeply bronzed skin, wildly arrayed with age spots like a painter had flecked the dye off their brush and onto him. Unlike most of his family members, his eyes are a dark, stormy gray, rather than the soft brown of most Jakedis that live in and around Hakirrash.

With straight shoulders, Nahur nods at the foreign man before turning to his son. Only after he looks away does the foreign man raise his head.

Your father speaks in a stern but not unkind voice, "Joura. You have brought a friend from the Isles, I take it? What is the identity of this man?"

Joura responds with his father's formal title, "Yes, Sha-hakir. This man is Maunao Ha-o-toko, the Senior Elder of the Yellow Feather tribe. His people occupy several islands with the Credi Isles"

Nahur seems slightly surprised by the man's identity, and gives the man a longer and deeper look. For his part, the stranger stoically allows himself to be analyzed by the village chief, the Sha-hakir.

When he seems satisifed, Nahur nods his head and bows more deeply to the man, signalling their equal status. The stranger's eyes widen a little at this, but he quickly schools his expression.

"Joura. Why has Senior Elder Ha-o-toko come here?" your father inquires of your brother.

Joura looks to the man and speaks liltedly in a language you have never heard, "pahai no ha ... -ka ta-tal ... aka ?"

The man takes a moment to respond, but when he does so you are surprised by the sound of his voice. Despite his apparent age, his voice is as smooth as the richest honey. It brings warmth to those who merely hear it, "Tatalaka wapa ba-hai yalay kipeteha wi wak ma na patale"

Joura has a concentrated expression on his face while he parses the words before nodding and turning back to Nahur. "Senior Elder Ha-o-toko says that he has come to strengthen ties between his tribe and our village. He also wishes to visit the north and witness the Kingdom of Ghanbar"

Nahur appears slightly overwhelmed by all this, but closes his eyes and nods solemnly. He takes a deep breath before opening his eyes and commanding Joura in a clear voice, "Tell him these things can be arranged. However, it will take some time before all is ready".

Joura nods and begins formulating an explanation to translate to the important visitor.

Nahur sighs one last time and turns around, walking away before stopping briefly. He turns back and says to Joura, slightly interrupting his attempts to handle the new language he has picked up pieces of. Nahur says, "When our honorable guest has settled, come to the house. I would be pleased to greet my eldest son back from his voyage" and with that he gives a light smile, erasing some of the formality from the atmosphere, which had made everyone ever-so-slightly tense. Nahur's eyes also settle on you and he speaks as he turns around, "Asherah, my dear, please leave your brother to handle his affairs. If I'm not mistaken, you should still be working on your tailoring at this early hour? Don't tell me you've become bored of it, already?" there is a hint of amusement in his eyes as he teases his daughter, but there is also a clear indication that Asherah and Joura may need to catch up later, as Joura has important and difficult work to do.

Asherah would offer a soft giggle. "My, whatever do you mean Father? What if, I was sooo excited to look on my brother once more, I finished alll my work in the wee hours of morn?" She'd ask, hands behind her back. Both of them knew full well that would never happen, but that didn't stop Asherah from pointing it out.

Of course, before heading out, the brash teen had one more item on her agenda. "Joura!" she'd shout, probably interrupting something important. "Ask about the birds!" she'd say flapping her hands for emphasis. As soon as that emphasis gesture was done, Asherah was out of there. She sprinted off the dock and to her house [yet again tripping here and there during her rush] in the hopes that she could get away unadmonished.

Her antics left her brother and father giving her a total glare, but the visiting chief from the Isles seemed to have a fond smile on his face, despite the disruption.

Returning quickly to the family home, Asherah scurried into the room and sat down by her loom... On second thought, that had been maybe a little too silly, given that she did not know the character of the stranger... She felt that things would be fine, but her father was clearly unimpressed.

There was still much work to do, and Asherah was left alone to complete it. Her mother would not be back from the dye garden for at least an hour... Asherah would also be scolded quite a lot if she hadn't finished at least a fair bit of cloth before then...

Once seated Asherah would set to work. Working the loom had become second nature to her, so only the most intricate designs needed her full attention. This left her with her own thoughts and the internal rhythm of the weave when crafting easier pieces. She thought on her earlier actions today and had just an ounce of regret. It had been rather rude of her to interrupt business. The stranger hadn't known her and while Asherah thought most social rules were dumb, the importance of first impression had never been lost on her. She had just dearly wanted to know about the birds!

If Asherah was informed of these creatures, she could use some of their feathers next time a particularly 'unique' dressed was order from Ghanbar. While the feathers might be a bit exotic for their taste, it had always been a dream of Asherah's to set a trend with her own work. Asherah would then go on to imagine the different ways she could style a dress with feathers. Eventually, even this train of thought would peter out, causing Asherah to work the loom in a sort of mindless stupor. She would continue her work, unaware of the passage of time, until disturbed by a physical touch or particularly loud noise.

Her rhythm was not interrupted, even when her mother came and went, completing her own work in a similarly mindless way.

Her work was over as soon as she knew it, and the sun had passed the center of the sky. In a while, it would begin to set and the day would come to an end.

Asherah's stomach makes an embarrassing noise... before then, it will soon be time for dinner!

Leaving her workplace after cleaning up, Asherah left the large room used by her and several other of the village's men and women. Her family home was just around the corner, and it was the nicest one in the village... well, they were all pretty colorful, but hers was the largest!

Even before entering inside, Asherah can already smell her mother's cooking! Pushing past the beaded curtains, Asherah feels the warmth from the cooking pot and gets a better whiff of the lovely stew!

Her two younger brothers, Asher and Mourn, lounge inside, as does her older sister, Kiyana. They all look up from what they're doing to greet her, but quickly go back to their activities.

It seems her brother and father have not returned from their day's work yet.

Her mother notices her then, "Ah, Asherah, you finished up then? And I bet you're hungry... Good, dinner will be served in twenty minutes. Go play outside or send your brothers to go fetch Joura and your Father. I don't want them to miss dinner and they should be done by now"

Asherah would nod. "Okay mother!" Asherah would head for the beaded entrance to grab some driftwood when she remembered a certain conversation. "Oh, mother were you informed that a guest will be joining us? Joura brought home some islander chieftan and father invited him to dinner." Asherah said/inquired, like any village women, her mother took her cooking quite seriously. Cooking was no priority in the village and nobody in the village was particularly skilled at it, yet it was considered an important role of one parent to provide the family with nourishment, and the other parent to provide shelter. This was a big reason Asherah's people traded for spices; the spices flavor helped make up for their lack of skill.

With her mother informed, Asherah would then exit through the beaded entrance. Only to quickly re enter with a skinny piece of driftwood. Why the driftwood? Why, for poking younger siblings of course! Asherah would the begin to poke at her younger brothers. "Up! Up weeins'! Go fetch Joura and father. If you do it quick enough, we might get to squeeze in some shell hunting!" Asherah would exclaim excitedly.

Your mother informs you she is already aware of your father's plans, and has prepared accordingly.

Asher and Mourn groaned at their older sister's prodding, but ultimately they rolled over and scurried out of the house. The younger of the two, Mourn stuck his tongue out at Asherah and blew a raspberry before running out the house.

--

Soon, the stew is ready, and your mother enlists your and Kiyana's help with setting the table with your finest tablecloth and knitted coasters. As your mother brings out her cooking pot, you notice she has made the stew in the expensive painted ceramic that your father had brought back from Ghanbar for his wife, a few months ago.

She has rarely used it since, saving it for just such an occasion! As you see it in use for the first time, you are shocked to notice that parts of the painted ceramic are actually slightly glowing, due to the presence of a hot liquid inside! Incredible! What kind of dye had been used to accomplish this? What an amazing centerpiece for the table!

Your mother also takes out the softest, fluffiest bread in her cabinet. Your village has always traded for most food that isn't from the sea, which is shown in the quality of your meals. A large bass has also been prepared. It is cooked well enough, though you can see it is slightly uneven

Your mother is one of the better cooks of the village, and was actually taught by your father during their first year after their Medi-Soniarast (ceremony of unification). In his youth, Nahur was a renowned fisherman pined after by many young women.

Despite all this though, the skills of your people in the field of cooking pale in comparison to the quality of goods you trade for.

Fortunately, the mediocrely-prepared fish is mostly covered up by an abundance of spices that compliment each other fairly well and are not overdone. You remember when you first starting trading for spices with the Credi Islanders, there were a few times you and your siblings nearly choked on a serving of fish you thought was crusted with something, but was actually just utterly caked in spices. It is one of the funniest memories in recent years, but your mother always gets annoyed when anyone brings up her past mistake.

---

After a dozen minutes, you hear commotion outside. It seems everyone has returned for the feast! Out of the corner of your eye, you notice your mother returning with a strange glass bottle filled with a dark violet liquid... Where did she get that from? You've never seen that around the house before... Your mind starts to race with the exciting possibilities that maybe there is still somewhere in the house that your parents have hidden things from you!

Then again... that time you found a chest in your father's room, and had managed to open it by spending an hour unbinding all the ropes keeping it shut... The things inside were really interesting, but you hadn't had long to look before your father returned and put it away... after had been one of the few times your father had ever truly shouted at you. He kept saying something about how dangerous it had been, and that the things in the box were there for a reason, but you only remembered the worry in his eyes and the fear you felt...

Maybe if your parents wanted to keep something hidden, it was for the better that you let it be... then again... you are very curious about what it just might be!

---

As you all take your seats, the table is crammed with extra seats easily borrowed from your neighbors.

OOC: The following section was difficult to describe so I learned how to use HTML tables and made an illustration for you

You sit in the middle of the entrance-facing long end of the table. Next to you on your left is your brother Asher, and to your right is your brother Mourn. Across from you is your older sister Kiyana. To her left and your right is your mother, and to her right and your left is Joura.

From your perspective, your father sits at the rightmost short end of the table, while Senior Elder Ha-o-toko faces him from across the largest dimension of the table.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎	Joura	Kiyana	Mother	‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎
Guest	XXXXX	XXXXX	XXXXX	Father
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎	Asher	[[YOU]]	Mourn	‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

---

---

As dinner begins, your mother sits down last after pouring the unfamiliar liquid from that bottle. One for your father, and the other for the guest. None for the rest of you... Hmph!

You might have been a bit annoyed, but then the acrid smell hits you and you are no longer so interested. You don't know what it is, but it smells a bit like stinky grapes, not that you've ever smelled stinky grapes.

After you all sit down, your father, Nahur speaks up.

"We welcome you to our village, Senior Elder Ha-o-toko. We hope you have found your accomodations satisfying. Today, we will eat with my family as a show of good will and future collaboration. Please, enjoy my Medina's cooking."

After your father speaks, Joura spends a few moments doing his best to translate for the foreign guest. When he is done, Senior Elder Ha-o-toko nods and responds to your father, though his words are in that same foreign language only Joura seems to have a grasp on.

After he is finished, Joura translates his words, "I am happy to be here. I... no- the... the Yellow Feather tribe is pleased to... make relations with your village." the translation is tough, but Joura pulls through in the end. He clearly isn't yet fluent in the tongue used by the visitor, but he is making a valiant effort.

Nahur nods, and then gestures to his utensils, which the guest Elder picks up without hesitation. Nahur uses his knife to cut a large slice of the fish, and places it on his plate. Then, he nods to your mother, who catches on, slicing a large piece of fish and leaning over so Joura can help place it down on the elder's plate.

Nahur then speaks simply, "My Medina will serve the rest. Let us eat, and talk after, once the children have retired for the evening". Joura translates and the Elder nods, seemingly agreeable.

With that, your mother begins to serve the rest of you, while your father and the elder eat in silence, watching each other intently but not overbearingly. Joura occasionally asks the Elder a question or two in the foreign tongue, to which he gets simple responses.

Is there anything you wish to do during the dinner proceedings? Or will you just enjoy your stew, bread and spicy fish?

OOC: Medina basically means wife, or the equivalent in your culture. Do not be confused that this is your mother's name

Ashearah would return Mourn's raspberry without hesitation. The only difference being Asherah would puff her cheeks and squish them when she blew her raspberry.
__

Asherah would obediently help set the table. True, she had originally had plans to play a bit before she had to suffer through the stuffy dinner, but duty called. Of course all of the 'agonizing minutes' [moments in reality] were worth t when to pot came out. Asherah's eyes would widen as she moved around the table examining it. Her mind wondering what could cause that subtle light coming from the pot. Was it really from some sort of dye? If so what?

Asherah wondered if she'd receive such gifts when she was older. Of course, she always thought the idea of becoming some man's Medina was disgusting ever since she was given 'the talk'. But often joked she'd do it if the man in question showered in her gifts like that pot.

She would indeed giggle when the fish came out, reminiscing on her mother's first attempt at spicing fish. Despite the memory of the original mixup, Asherah couldn't help but lick her lips at the sight of the fluffy bread and fish. Her mother was easily one of the best cooks in the village and it was clear she had broken out the good stuff for this dinner.
__

After what felt like forever [plus some added hand smacks from her mother], Asherah heard a commotion out side. She'd rush to the beaded entrance to see if it was her brothers, father, and their guest. It was! She'd shoot the group a smile and scurry back inside for dinner.

Asherah was exceedingly curious as to what the liquid was and why her mother was hiding it. Why would one hide liquid? Was it bad? Or dangerous? If it was dangerous why was her mother pulling it out now? Asherah knew better than to ask, so she made the executive decision to figure it out later. When her father was distracted, of course.
__

Since her mother served the liquid it became clear to Asherah that it must not be dangerous. Otherwise her mother wouldn't be serving it to such an important guest. When Asherah wasn't served any she opened her mouth to protest. She immediately regretted her decision when the smell hit her. This smell was worse then the weird stinky medicine her mother passed around when the village or the animals came down with something. Thankfully, it was better than what Asherah had smelled when she had found a slug's corpse while harvesting dye on the rocks. With that, Asherah scraped any plans that had been formulating to find out what the liquid was, or drink it.

Asherah would sit through the dinner with an openly bored face. She enjoyed the food but had expected the dinner to be... more lively. She had been impressed with the islander when he didn't even flinch upon trying her mother's infamously spicy fish. Then again the spices had come from the Credi Isles, maybe their food was even more mouth scorching. Asherah licked her lips at that thought, she adored spicy food.

When 'the children retiring' was mentioned Asherah would raise her eyebrows. "Does that include me Father?" Asherah would inquire, curious and hopeful.

As the food had been mostly finished in good time, Asher and Mourn quickly retired. Her sister Kiyana also gracefully bowed out.

At Asherah's words, Nahur gave her a considering look. Her mother opened her mouth as if to speak, but her father held up a gentle hand... Her mother looked worried but decided to wait and see what her Memed [masculine equivalent of Medina] had to say on the matter.

Nahur takes a moment before deciding. "Hm. I suppose you can be allowed to listen in on this. Behave yourself and show respect to our guest, my Asherah" At that Joura seems quite surprised, but a knowing glint passes through his eyes... before he lets out a small, soft smile.

Her mother looks slightly concerned but ultimately lets out a short sigh before giving Asherah a hard stare.

the Senior Elder is the first to speak, "Wakapa palal te ha-ki-o wa. Te-ku la-pa hausan, moa moa witi-lai!"

Joura struggles for a second before his eyes brighten up, and he simply says, "Senior Elder compliments 'the matriarch's cooking'," a small smile appears on Joura's face at the term of address, while your mother has a very slight blush. Joura then finishes the translation with, "He asks what you first would like to discuss. The relations between Yellow Feather and Hakirrash, or the logistics of introducing them to Ghanbar"

Asherah would grin and bounce slightly in her seat. This would stop as soon as she realized that was what her father meant by 'behave yourslf'... among other things of course. She would think of the best way to keep calm while listening to the conversation then remember the bead basket her mother usually tucked away in the kitchen. She could work on some beading while she listened!

Of course, Asherah received the smile from her brother and the firm stare from her mother before getting up. She'd give her brother a cheerful glance and her mother a look of feigned, innocent confusion. With her non-verbal response done, Asherah would set off on her search for the beading basket while the conversation began.

Asherah would find it, retake her seat and begin braiding some strands together with beads on them. She would weave a pattern on them that her grandmother had claimed represented protection. Such faith had shattered and fallen out in recent years but hey, at least it looked pretty!

Her interruption is politely ignored by her father and the senior elder, though when she returns Asherah gets the sense that this may have been a more rude thing to do than she had imagined... Even Joura is looking at her a bit uncomfortable, while her mother gives her a withering glare like she had only ever seen a few times before.

While she kept her hands busy while her mind was on task, Asherah hears the conversation between the Senior Elder and Nahur, with Joura as an intermediate.

---

"Let us first discuss the future of our cooperation, if it pleases him. Hakirrash is already in good relations with many tribes of the Credi Isles. How much awareness does Senior Elder have on the matter?" Nahur initiates.

The Elder has a slightly stiff expression at this, "He says he has heard rumors of such, but he is curious to what extent Hakirrash has made allies within the Credi Isles?"

Nahur's response is calm, despite the slight tension from the Elder, "You can tell him about our deals with the other tribes. Also briefly describe the agreements we made with each of them"

Joura does so, and you see the Elder's brow become slightly creased at certain points. You think you hear several proper names in there, but its hard to distinguish within the sounds of an unfamiliar language.

The Elder takes a deep breath before he responds, "The Senior Elder would like to apologize. He came under the mistaken belief that Hakirrash had not already established such treaties"

A moment passes before Joura continues, as the Senior Elder rises from his seat.

And bows.

As the man sits down, Joura's face is very surprised, and he stutters out a translation of his next words, "The Elder, no -- He called himself 'I, Ha-o-toko' this time -- says he... he would be satisfied with the same deal as given to the Red Feather and Blue Feather tribes. He would also wish to return with an alike offer to the Green Feather and Purple Feather tribes"

Nahur's face is stoic, but you see a sense of ... something cross across his eyes, almost impossible to notice if you were not his daughter, "Tell him that any may come in the same manner as he, and that I will be willing to offer them the same deal once I have seen them with my own eyes."

The Elder responds obediently and just nods at that.

The other four people at the table sit quietly and slightly awkwardly for a while, the Elder Ha-o-toko clearly thinking deeply.

Eventually, he speaks and Joura translates in kind.

"The Elder thanks you for your patience, and is ready to discuss the possibility of meeting Ghanbar"

Nahur nods at this, approvingly, then speaks, "Tell him it is not difficult to do, but he will have to follow our lead - at least until we are in the city. Let him know it will likely be impossible to meet with the War King - Raz Kubir, on any given day. If he is even in the city we travel to. Instead, we will likely be able to stay for a few weeks to arrange the meeting with a royal delegate of high station."

The Senior Elder chews these words over before nodding, and asking another question through Joura, "What in your opinion will he need to prepare?"

Nahur responds quickly, "We have enough supplies for two of mine, and two of yours. We can leave anytime before the winter. We will stock the caravan ourselves. There is no way for us to provide protection for the caravan, so we will all have to do without."

Nahur waits to see if the Senior Elder objects to this, but besides a brief cynical look on his face, there is no other negative response.

Ha-o-toko clasps his hands as he stands, and speaks a few words. Joura translates them as, "I wish you well, elder of Hakirrash. I shall retire for the night, before returning to the Isles tomorrow."

Nahur nods, with either understanding or granting permission.

The Senior Elder gives a brief glance to your mother and... surprisingly to you, before speaking a few things to Joura and being on his way.

Once the Senior Elder has left, Joura whispers something into his mother's ear which makes her blush slightly.

Nahur raises an eyebrow, though he has an amused smile on his face.

Joura and Nahur share a look before the two slump back in their seats and let out deep sighs.

"Father, that was exhausting" Joura remarks

Your father responds, "You did well, Joura. When did you pick up the Credi tongue? If my ears don't mistake me, that was a different dialect than the one of the main islands?"

Joura nods, "Indeed. There is much I have learned from my most recent expedition"

Asherah would shrink under their gazes, she definitely felt guilty about this one too. She would continue to weave beads, albeit with great unease. The conversation was sadly more boring than Asherah had expected. So the terribly rude interruption hadn't even been worth it. "I think I'll be turning in now, thank you, Father, for allowing me to be present." Asherah would say then head to her room.

She'd toss and turn for awhile, until, at last, she gave up on sleep. Asherah would sneak out her bedroom window, heading down to the beach in hopes that the crashing waves and moonlight would help sooth her.

Her father nods, not too upset with her, but only because because he knows she is not as aware of the etiquette as her older brother or sister.

Joura visits her a little later in the afternoon, acting slightly strange (for some reason?) with a slurred speech and poor balance. Must be tired, poor fellow. Though that doesn't explain the somewhat familiar acrid smell...

He neither scolds nor comforts her about her mistake during the meeting, but simply tells her (after some stuttering) that he had asked the Senior Elder where the birds on his cap came from (as she had requested to know), and the Elder had told him it came from some of the breeds of Moa that inhabit the tribes of the Hoku Archipelago, one of the three main groups in the Credi Isles.

He is too... unfocused... to tell her more at the moment about those lands, and simply leaves after that.

---

After slipping out of the house, as she is wont to do, Asherah arrives at the soft sandy beach. The moonlight is beautiful as it dances against the waves, and is made more serene by the fresh smell of night wind in the air.

Sitting down and squishing her toes into the sand, Asherah gazes up at the sky and seeks comfort in the embrace of nature's tranquility.

Her eyes eventually feel heavy and she dozes off...

...

Asherah starts as something thumps down next to her. She turns over, but it is too dark to make out. A hand lands on her head, and she immediately calms. She recognizes the presence of her father.

"My treasure, why are you out of bed at night. You will catch a cold, like this." his voice is soft, but hesitant as if in contemplation.

Eventually, he sighs, and speaks his mind "Daughter, you are almost of age. It is time that you decide what path is right for you. You need to choose between a life of labor, or a life of leadership." he thinks for a while, and it is then you notice he is carrying a strange-smelling bottle.

Nahur takes a sip from the thing, which your eyes - that are just now adapting to the light - can make out as that same bottle from earlier!

"From what your mother has told me, you have been satisfactory in your studies as a tailor, and your skills are enough for you to begin working outside the family workshop. But tonight, I was surprised. A little offput, but also delighted, by your request to stay and entertain our guest."

He looks at you, and his deep blue eyes - almost black in this light - can barely be made out by you as he takes a look at you. It is hard to tell if they hold pride, disappointment, a mix of both, or nothing at all. As a man and village leader, Nahur is incredibly hard to read when he wants to be... "I am not going to explain to you your mistake. You are already aware of it, but I will tell you why it was wrong... You sat down at the table, albeit with my permission, without knowing the practices or attitudes of the parties present."

He takes another drink, and you are hit by a slight acrid smell which is quickly washed away by the wind, "In other situations, this could have been disasterous. Of course, I had already got a read on the man before he ever entered my home, and Joura would sooner perish ashore then bring a threat back from the islands, but that does not excuse the behavior. It makes me realize, we, your mother and I, have been too lax in your education... As the second daughter of the Sha-hakir, you have the privilege and responsibility to decide whether or not you will claim a role in the future of Hakirrash"

There is silence for a while, but not an inviting one. Now is the time for quiet while he ponders his next words.

Eventually, your father continues, "You may have already noticed, the bright girl you are, but Joura and Kiyana have already made their decisions... Joura chose long ago, at a younger age then I thought wise, but which turned out to just be a sign of his strong nature. His choice was to be groomed into the next Sha-hakir. He has done admirably, and his voyages with his friends have brought us unprecedented bounty"

He shifts for a moment, and you feel the air grow slightly tense. "Kiyana made a different choice. She decided she would enter a life of labor. Her skills as a tailor were not up to par, so for the last few years your mother has been directly educating her about the lifestyle of a Medina, something I am unfamiliar with and thus unable to provide her wisdom about."

He sighed and look off in the distance, his tone melancholic, "She will probably have her Union Ceremony within at most one cycle. It is sad to see her leave the house, as I believed she had great prospect as a diplomat. However, her choice is her own, and clearly she was not fated for the life of leadership. She will be happier this way."

A bit more time passes, before Nahur steels his nerves and sits up straight, looking at you.

For the first time in many, many years, you feel a sense of great pressure coming from the man. His eyes seem to look right through you, and his voice is as deep and powerful as the ocean. "Asherah. In the coming days, I will be sending you away." the words hit like a strike, and frigid ice shoots through your veins.

His next words bring clarity and peace, but the pure shock of his initial statement lingers... the phrasing had been terrible, but your father seems unaware of the impact on you... no, wait... maybe he had said exactly those words for that very reason? To get your full attention?

"You will be heading with Joura and Senior Elder Ha-o-toko to the local city of Kuracos, within the Kingdom of Ghanbar. During this trip, you will rely on your brother, who will teach you what you need to know about the life of a community leader before you return."

Your father hesitates, but only momentarily, before his words continue with even more conviction. "The Elder's business will not last the whole trip. He will return to Hakirrash, and then to the Isles when he is finished with his work there. You two will stay." he takes a last drink, before tossing the empty bottle into the sea. Your eyes follow it as it sails and is lost beneath the crashing waves, seeming to move sluggishly as if as dazed as yourself.

"Asherah. You will live in that city, and learn the Ghanbaran way of life. You will ingratiate yourself with our contacts, and you will have a chance to explore the wider world." he takes a shaky breath, more stressed than you have ever seen your father before.

"Joura will stay until the year's end, or until he believes you are ready to return... If by the year's end, he deems your teachings incomplete... "

Nahur is quite for a long time, all silence seeming to have vanished from the world.

"He will leave you. You will stay alone. Until you can return on your own two feet." his voice is almost impossible to hear.

Nahur stands up, and you feel the world move with him, "Do not take this as punishment, daughter. This will provide you with the opportunity to explore so much of the world. You will surely find fulfillment in the wondrous first experiences you will have there. But this is not a leisure trip. You are there to learn what you need to know, before you can make an educated decision about your path in life... I- this is tradition among the family of the Sha-hakir, and I have faith you will overcome the obstacles and return with your brother before the years end. You have a good head, and a passion for life that is all too rare in this world. But you are untempered. Your attitude is still that of a child, and you need to understand the ties that bind us all"

Nahur gives a sad smile his eyes catching the moon's light, before he reaches out a hand for you to take. "Come, Asherah. We will return to the house, and I will help you to bed. The future is not something to be scared, if you have the tools to approach it. This is what I hope to offer to you, but it is up to you to have the intelligence to grasp them and wisdom to apply them."

OOC: Feel free to respond to as much or as little of this as you like. It was a long one. I went for a different vibe than I originally planned, but this conversation (or at least its essence) was long planned. Indeed, your prologue is nearing its end :-) - be ready for the game to open up beyond this little village quite a bit!

"Because the Waves sooth me father-its like the rhythm of the loom I hear in my head." Asherah would giggle. "Remember when I would fall asleep weaving the loom?" She remembered waking to her Mothers disappointed face almost every other line of weave.

Asherah folded in on herself a bit as what she did wrong was discussed; but she digested it none the less.

...

The words were like an arrow to the chest. Asherah sat up straight, it felt as if her heart was beating louder than any crashing wave during a storm. "Wha-" Asherah began to say but cut her self off. Despite hating stupid 'social standards' Asherah held a few of them close to her heart since they simply made sense. One of these were first impressions should be the best impression you can make. Another being don't interrupt others while they're talking, especially father.

Later she would review everything her father said as if she had been paying attention the entire time. But in the moment it was as if everything was in one ear and out the other.

When it was at last time to head in, Asherah would shakily take her father's hand. She would teeter, gripping his hand like a rope pulling her back onto a water craft. It would take her a few tries until she re-gained her voice. "M-may I at least t-take my small lo-looom with me?"

---

Asherah found herself lying awake at night, yet again. I was true, Asherah wanted to see the world and everything it held. She wanted to explore every where possible and find new dyes, new arts to use to paint her proverbial canvas. She also didn't want to leave her village. The occasional voyage was okay cause she always knew when she was going home and that it would be soon. She loved her village, in her eyes the land was perfected nature. True, she'd seen no other land except for that at the Credi Isles, but that was enough to convince her no village had it better than hers.

There was also the problem of what path she wanted to take. She didn't want to become someone's Medina, but she also didn't want to spend all her days 'playing the customer' [kissing up to people]. She knew that being a diplomat was more than that but it was certainly a large part of it. Were these really the only two paths? Asherah would love to just continue making wares for the village, but she knew that simply wasn't enough. Everybody helped with the wares so they must help with something else as well, whether it be expanding the population or diplomacy. She guessed she could stay in Ghanbar and start a tailor shop there, but then she'd be competing with her own village and if she didn't complete something while she was away would Father still welcome her home.

Asherah worked her self up with her wild thoughts till the point she was too exhausted to continue.

Nahur gives a curt nod at her one request.

After arriving at her room, he places a soft kiss on her forehead before turning and leaving her in her lonesome.

---

Asherah's thoughts torment her for a long while, but just before the morning sun rises, she has worn herself ragged and falls asleep before she knows it.

---

The sound of rain wakes up Asherah, as she looks out the window. The sky is gloomy, reflecting her mood.

Quickly, the young tailoress realizes it is late in the day. She momentarily panics that she will get scolded for missing her work, but then realizes if nobody had come to wake her it must have been intentional to let her rest.

---

How will Asherah spend this day, and the next couple - since they may be the last ones in Hakirrash for quite a long while.

Asherah would change into fresh clothes and head down to the tide pools. Collecting slug slime was usually the children's job but it was too dangerous for them when it was raining. Plus, Asherah had planned on visiting her squishy purple sweethearts before she left anyways. And so most of the day was spent collecting from the slugs. The rest, Asherah spent figuring out what personal projects she could finish on the small mockery of a loom she was allowed to bring with her, the answer was one, maybe two.

She spent the rest of her days saying goodbye to those in the village who were close to her. She spent an entire day helping Mourn and Asher with their chores and playing with them. Asherah made sure to talk with her elder sister about the upcoming ceremony, wishing that her older sister find happiness. Asherah also set aside another day to say good bye to all the critters she'd grown so fond of. Each moment either spent in pure joy, or sheer dread, there didn't seem to be a between for Asherah.

Throughout these days there was one person she didn't share these last smiles and happy moments with. That person would be Asherah's father. Asherah effectively gave him the cold shoulder. Of course, she listened when he told her to do something, but it was with a very curt "Yes, sir". She also refused to smile when he was around.

Nahur wanted her gone, so Asherah made sure from that night on, for him, his treasure was gone.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:55, Wed 24 Jan.

Asherah's last days in the village of her birth are spent doing odd chores, and saying her farewells.

The little purple slugs seem oblivious to her emotions, they just wriggle about and climb up her forearms. The same as usual. That could make Asherah feel better, or maybe worse.

Her talk with Kiyana started off with a surprise. Kiyana hadn't know Asherah had known. Then again, she quickly figured it out. Kiyana basically whisked Asherah around for the whole day, moving all over the place and telling her about things Asherah hadn't heard before and didn't really understand. It was nice.

Kiyana had always been the most quiet of all her siblings, yet that didn't mean she wasn't intelligent. In fact, she was perhaps the brightest of them all. However, she was a gentle person and an introspective one too. Perhaps that is why she chose the life of a Medina over the lives of leadership, or labor.

On behalf of her interactions with her father, they are few. Nahur only came to see her once before the day she would set off, and it was to check in on her. Asherah was so curt as to be unresponsive, and so Nahur quickly left. He seemed unfazed.

Later in the night though, Asherah vaguely heard a strange sound from her room. If she pays close attention, perhaps leaving through her window again, or just straining her ears to the limit... she will begin to make out the sound of a man sobbing. The voice was... unfamiliar but also not.

It definitely couldn't be her father. Nobody had ever heard or seen him cry before. Maybe it was Joura, or some random villager who wandered close to their family complex.

---

On the day of her departure, everyone is there to watch her go. Her whole family, several important figures in the village, and even Senior Elder Ha-o-toko, who had brought a number of other less-decorated islanders with him.

Her mother had woken her up early in the morning, telling her to put on her nicest clothes and eat a large breakfast.

Even her little brother Mourn had come over and handed her a sealed clay jar. He said there was a juice inside that would help calm her down if she got upset.

It was a weird gift, but Asherah treasured it.

---

A short time after the sunrise, dawn has passed and the sun is moving towards it's place in the center of the sky.

Nahur clears his throat once, and the assorted chatter immediately vanishes, in a wave of cascading silence. Nahur stands up tall and moves to the middle of the crowd, which flow as if to make room for him. Your father had always had almost unbelievable charisma, but now that you were seeing it (and even feeling it) more and more, you began to notice just how beyond the normal it truly was.

Something was exceptional about him, Asherah cannot help but realize for the first time. Perhaps, given the hurt she feels against him, this causes her to be suspicious, or perhaps she is just awed at his unusual prowess. Maybe she is too tired to bring herself to care.

Nahur speaks, his words as smooth as honey and just as rich "Visitors, friends, family. We have all gathered here today to send off our guests, the Yellow Feather Tribe of the Hoku Archipelago. Accompanying them, is my youngest daughter, Asherah, who we now witness as she begins her journey to the Kingdom of Ghanbar. This journey will decide her future path. I hope she returns in good health and spirits, with an elevated mind and heart. To provide assistance for both these important journeys, my eldest son Joura will be accompanying the caravan. While he is away, trade with the Credi Isles will sadly have to stop-"

Several murmurs breakout, instinctive protests against the change. Nahur's brow scrunches and he looks into the crowd. Immediately, as if shocked, the voices vanish. Several people in the crowd can be seen hanging their heads in shame at their outbursts.

Nahur continues, as if never interrupted, "Due to the fact that the expedition leader will be otherwise occupied. Now, the wagons are already loaded. Let us send off our new friends and my family, with a show of well wishes."

As if it was predetermined, the villagers start to chant something in the old beliefs. They carry little sway in Hakirrash anymore, but they sometimes are used for ceremonial display like this, or also as certain archaic proverbs.

With that, the Senior Elder Ha-o-toko and a few other Yellow Feather Elders begin to board their carriage. After they have, Joura takes Asherah by the arm and guides her to their own carriage for the two of them.

Once all are settled, Asherah feels a momentary pause as the short procession has ended. But, before awkwardness can set in as people begin to wonder how the oxen will be spurred, Nahur simply raises his voice,

Onwards

The words barely register in your mind and they are hard to focus on. But, as if they have been frightened, the Oxen let out brief snorts of shock, before quickly striking their hoofs into the sandy beach and immediately beginning a trot.

The journey begins

This message was last edited by the GM at 15:22, Sat 13 Jan.

>>Kuracos

Asherah let out a sigh as she at last stepped out of carriage. She inhaled the fresh air, savoring the way air should smell. her legs wavered with sudden overwhelming joy. She was home! She wanted to run to her family, but she couldn't muster the energy, so she settled for a wobbly walk. People greeted her as she walked by, welcoming her back. Despite this, there was a bit of pain that there was no crowd or celebration upon her return. She knew it was because there was work to be done and they simply didn't have the time for these things, but that didn't stop her from wondering if it was because nobody had actually missed her.

At last, Asherah made it to her house. She felt a slight unease as reached up to knock. Would they be happy to see her? would they welcome her home and ask to here all about her trip? Or would they give her the same passive hellos? Would she immediately be asked to do chores and life would simply continue on? Asherah wasn't even sure which of those she wanted to happen and which of those she didn't. She raised her fist to knock once more. What about father?

That single thought stopped her dead in her tracks. Before she had been mad that he was just shipping her off out of the blue like this; No preparation what so ever. She'd been even more hurt when he seemed to not have a care in the world when she left, no tears, no nothing. She felt something tighten in her chest. No, no she would still give him the same treatment, this entire trip was his fault, good and bad. But... what if he had regretted his decisions later on? What if she gave him the same treatment and he doesn't deserve it now? She'd think on these things, knowing if she didn't decide now she might make the wrong decision in the heat of the moment. I'll let him make the first move. If he seems excited to see me again, I'll forgive him. If he seems indifferent... well that's his fault.

Resolve at last in place, Asherah would knock on the door.

Joura followed Asherah at a bit of a distance, but ultimately let her approach their home alone. He had already been back once during the journey, and he was used to prolonged absences from the village. Thus, she saw him stray off into the distance at some point - seemingly in the direction of a small distillery only the two of them knew about.

A half dozen years ago, when she was quite a bit younger, she stumbled upon him in that little alcove, drinking with his buddies. He had asked her to keep it a secret, since this was the place he went to rest where his father couldn't find him. She had obliged easily back then, but now she realizes it probably was very meaningful to him that she kept her promise all this time.

Everyone needs to unload once in a while, huh?

It is a happy thought that Joura is probably still hanging out with those same buddies in the same place, except now he is all but confirmed to be the next Sha-hakir, and those buddies have probably been part of his sailing crew since he started heading journeys to the Credi Isles, a few years back.

Shaking off the memories, Asherah knocks at the door.

Footprints can quickly be heard from inside, and a familiar figure appears. It's Asherah's mother, Tarisha. Though, of course, it was improper to call her anything but 'mom' or some variant.

Immediately, Asherah is struck by a wave of deeply-rooted sentiment, bursting upwards into her surface consciousness as if from a geyser.

The emotions nearly make her stumble again, and tears threaten to form in her eyes.

The gentle, caring smile of her one and only mother in this world is there to greet her. A pair of calm, soulful eyes welcome her along with open arms, offering a loving, comforting embrace. Clearly, she was being expected.

Regardless of how she greets her mother, accepting her warmth, or rejecting it, Asherah is welcomed inside the building right away.

Already, she feels as if she never left, seamlessly melting into that familiar rhythm as if everything outside this place, this little slice of paradise, had been a dream, and she was still a young girl living a carefree life on the pleasant beachside.

Of course, deep down she knows that isn't true, and that time lost can never be regained. But, in this moment, she is able to almost believe it.


Why in life must it be,
Our most precious memories,
Are only seen to have been such,
Once they've passed by through our touch.

In the river of time,
I pan water for a rhyme,
For the reason it is so late,
The past we can appreciate.

---

Besides Tarisha, the house is empty. Asher and Mourn are out playing, and Kiyana is away preparing for her ceremony.

The former is to be expected, but he latter hits Asherah like a truck. Though, she knows, she should have seen it coming.
It seems Kiyana has decided to live the life of a Medina.

A Medina's life is one of devotion. Devotion to the family and to the house. Between Hakirrash and Ghanbar, Asherah has learned there is a greater cultural difference than one may think on the exact role and expectations of a Medina.

In Hakirrash (and some of the other Coastal VIllages), being a Medina is an honorable task. One who is ready to be a Medina must know many things, especially if they are anticipating to undergo Unification into an exemplary house. Medina's are given great respect and consideration, second only to the head of the family, usually a man. In rare cases where a woman is the head of a family, she may take on a Memed, the male equivalent of a Medina - though training for such positions are not common, and so it is not easy for a matriarch to find a fitting suitor.

In Ghanbar, it is very different. Though both societies draw from the same cultural roots as ethnic Jakadim, after Ghanbar was founded by the Wise King Hajim, all the tribes which had very different views on the Union Ceremony and related practices, mixed together and eventually a distilled, milquetoast version of these amalgamated beliefs became the norm.

That is to say, being a Medina in Ghanbar was nothing special, and the title bore no weight, especially among the lower class. A "trained" Medina in Ghanbar was nothing more than a regular caregiver - and in fact, nobody really cared if a woman who hadn't technically gone through the necessary steps called herself as such. The term basically became synonymous with 'spouse' and the line between personal celebrations of interpersonal intimacy and the Union Ceremony became blurred - with most people not understanding there once was a difference between the two.

From what Tarisha told Asherah, Kiyana's proceedings were going smoothly, and she was very happy to soon be Unified into the family of the man she had been courting.

By now, Asherah realizes that something is strange. Her mother hasn't mentioned anything about where her father is or what he is doing. Also, Asherah has not sensed Nahur anywhere around the house. She and Tarisha are alone here.

Perhaps he is out, but that is something she would expect her mother to mention... Curious.

How will Asherah respond to reuniting with her mother, what questions (if any) will she ask about the family's matters while she was away, and will she make any preparations for meeting the rest of the family, whenever they return home?

Asherah would hug her mother. Drawing warmth and comfort from the women with a trembling sigh of emotion. It was somewhere between a content sigh, a sigh of relief, and the intake of air one made when they where about to cry. Asherah felt those tears threaten but never come, she had cried herself dry these past few months. After what felt like forever but was still too short her mother let go, and Asherah was gently ushered inside. "I-I missed you mom." Asherah said with a trembling voice.

Asherah opened her mouth and closed it. Then let out a breathy laugh. She didn't know what to say, just eight months and she had forgotten how to talk to her mother. "H-how have things been here? At home? I-I hope Asher and Mourn haven't been too much of a handful with me and Kiyana gone." Asherah would smile feeling much more at ease after making the joke. She would wait for her mother's reply. Keeping up whatever small talk came up until Asherah noticed her father's absence.

She would of course wait for her mother to finish before asking "...where is Father?"