New Caliphs

Session 2 - Excerpts from Abba's diary

Timbuktu
I must be getting soft. Mohammed my sexless brother was whining incessantly about a few scrapes he had from the Berber attack and I risked outing myself as a warlock to heal him. I like the sexless Allah worshipping zealot more than is prudent. Luckily he seemed to believe the random bits of grasses I applied to the wound and the broken Hebrew was part of the ancient art of Jewish herb lore. He is now convinced Jews are magical creatures. I must be more careful with Avraham broadcasting his talents.

Faisal the flaccid in his infinite wisdom made it known to me that he would beat me if I did not return all the gold I made selling the camels in the market today. I sold the half dead mangy beasts as the Sultan’s of Ozbrooks fabled racing camels. I made Faisal a rich man and only kept a small finder fee of an eighth of the excess profit. I even showed my generousness by sharing the money with the group by catering dinner and providing music worthy of any sultan. After many drinks I stacked the gold into piles and placed them around the room. So that my flaccid captore would be like a greedy servant stooping over to pick up each pile.

I have come to believe the book was created in Cordova. Mohammed and I apparently both dreamed the same dream with scholars huddled around the book chanting. In my dream a piece of the Ten Commandments was incorporated into book during its creation. What this can mean I don’t know. Perhaps I’ve been too hasty in turning my back on my father’s teaching of the Torah.

The next day as Ping and Mohammad went to the library I managed to get assigned to read the book. The book is in Latin and contains the most marvelous bits of useful magic. I’ve paid special attention to a spell called oblivio mens or forgetful mind. I’m pretty sure I will be able to put it to good use. The author claims he once enthralled the contestant in the last round of an archery contest to forget how to draw a bow and thusly winning a very large purse.

The road to Tunis
I’ve seen monsters today. I couldn’t shake the idea of something following us. After enhancing my eyes and ears with an enchantment, I confirmed my suspicions. I alerted Ping a man who reliably can be counted on to handle the violent element. He wisely counseled the fatheaded Faisal who agreed to let us set a trap. The trap worked beautifully as Mohammed rigged his crossbow as a trap as we hid under blankets. Mohammed scored a hit and Ping shot out from his blanket. Then the strange oriental did not attack but performed some kind of dance. If I didn’t know better I would have thought he cast a spell because not two seconds later did one of the creatures flee and one of them fainted. The creatures were like men but without heads and their faces were on their chests. These creatures were hideous and I shrewdly advised we kill both before they slit our throats in the night. Mohammed and Ping both felt sorry for these dogs of the desert and let them both go.

Tunis
We finally arrive in Tunis and I definitely need a drink and take off to the nearest watering hole. Tunis seems to be entirely populated by pirates and wenches. After playing in a couple drinking houses for coin a dim witted man shot his pistol at me wanting to see me dance. I was tempted to go shove his pistol up his arse but why dirty my hands when so many people in the tavern can pummel the man for me. Instead, I suggest to the crowd we all fight instead of dance and slip out in the resulting mayhem safely out into the streets.

In the distance a sandstorm was blowing in. Unlike a natural storm it moved against the wind. It was the collective hooves of thousands Algerian horseman. I race back to the party and let rational Ping confirm my suspicion. I think he has seen more than his fair share of fighting as he wandered from the orient and he expertly sized up the force. The flaccid Faisal then whimpers and eventually accepts the council of his servant betters and we sprint to procure transport upon a ship in the harbor. The drunken townsfolk were to dimwitted to know their impending doom at the point of an Algerian sabre and I was able to buy a seaworthy sailing vessel. Of the party, only I Abba knew the ways of the sea and we needed crew beyond the three German slaves. I offered safe transit to the seven men we bought the ship from in exchange for there help sailing to Morocco. After illuminated the fact the Algerian army was approaching they agreed to work for free on their old ship.

At sea
We slipped out of the harbor and raised an Algerian flag. The seven old seadogs were wise to carry flags of many nations for just this sort of occasion. We met the Algerian navy and after a brief parley went our separate ways. The Algerians wanted to recruit us into the armada. I couldn’t think of a thing I’d want to do less than die fighting some other person war and declined for the party.

The three German slaves were mutinous and I briefly considered joining them in impaling our good wise master Faisal the flaccid. But ultimately I have no desire to fight Ping and Mohammed so I betrayed the Germans to Faisal. We made a quick stop and sold the three slaves for a good price and made it back safely to Moroccan waters.

Comments

Even though I’m not playing, I’d love to sell this diary to “Faisal the flaccid” just to see what happens next. VERY entertaining.

 

Nicely done. I like to the timbre and pacing. The personality is clear.

muto

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