An Atlantean and a Varati

Lorelei

     You see a petite young woman of, approximately, 21 years of age with a slender figure. Her long, slightly wavy, black hair is plaited, a few loose strands tucked behind her ears. Her sea green eyes glow softly with a hint of mischievous which serves to occasionally brighten up her smooth sandy white complexion. At either side of her throat small slits, barely visible, serve as gills. They, like her webbed fingers and toes, betray her Atlantean heritage.
     She wears a jade coloured choli, a short-sleeved, tight-fitting top, and a matching sarong. A single pea-sized pearl affixed to a black cord encircles her neck while a sheathed bone knife hangs in a scabbard at her side.

Vayu

     While often we are told that the outer shape does not make the inner, we sometimes forget that the inner mettle of a man will often shape his appearance, by virtue of determination and will. This Varati man shines with his inner strength, body shape and language radiating confidence and self-reliance.
     Tall, this Varati man - perhaps six and a half feet, perhaps a little less; his shape is, as the Varati are known for, seemingly chiseled from some sort of dark brown granite. He does not appear exceptionally strong - for a Varati - but rather appears to have the hardiness of one who has traveled many miles during their life, and has endurance to outrun the greatest Olympians. He is lean, like a runner, but the muscles stand out as proof of said miles traveled. His face is beholden of the strong features of the Varati, dusky skin matching his hard grey eyes and jet black hair - everything is a square, hard angle, matching his prominent nose and jaw. He is marked with a mustache and goatee, as is the style of the Eastern land Varati. These are noble features, matching fierce purpose with kindness and acceptance - he is, without fail, a handsome and regal man. Age can be seen creeping in around the edges of his eyes, marking him in his early 30's, but it does not diminish his appearance one whit.
     His airy summer robes have been replaced with heavier winter garb; they are, however, still white. The robe is made of heavy linen, wrapping about his body in the fashion of desert-dwelling Varati. A second cloak seems draped over the room, falling heavily from his shoulders, making him appear as a pillar of white; a hood adorns the cloak, as well as a strip of cloth to wrap 'round the face in times of snow or sandstorms. The edges of the cloak and robe are embroidered with yellow script that is well-nigh indecipherable. Perhaps an ancient prayer to Atar? Despite the plain fare, however, the Varati man holds himself as though he were a king among men - or, perhaps more accurately, a sage among students. Not condescending, but certainly aloof - kindly, but still distant.

Vayu seems to appear along the road as if from nowhere...

Vayu has arrived.

Morning turns snow silver with reflected light, steam rising off of cobbles and windowpanes where heat bleeds through. The trees surrounding Haven's north gate are heavy with snow, boughs sagging patiently as they await spring's melt. A lone figure, unaccompanied by guard or caravan, trudges past the outer wall into Haven proper. He carries only a small pack, a scrollcase, and a battered oak staff.

Lorelei walks just outside the gates of Haven, quietly strolling, a soft smile lighting up her face.

Pausing just inside, Vayu drops his gaze to the staff he carries. It's seen better days, if not better decades. Cracked from end to end, worn with the marks of many hands, it has come more to resemble driftwood after a storm than any sort of walking aid. He tosses it into the gutter, snorting somewhat as it snaps in the center. "Ahh," he mumbles, "You served your purpose, I suppose..." before looking up. "Excuse me, madam," he calls out, "Yes... Young Atlantean..."

Lorelei's attention is directed from her walk toward the Varati. She smiles in greeting, after a slight pause, heading a few paces toward Vayu.

"Yes... Um... I was wondering if you could tell me if any great earth-shattering events have come to pass in the past few weeks? No wars, nothing like that?" Vayu says, voice low and soothing. For a Varati, he's very nonthreatening. He almost seems distracted, as well. Maybe he's tired. "Also, do you know High Priestess Okalani?"

The young Atlantean woman pauses, a frown marring her pale face, eyebrows furrowing together. She puts just the tip of her index finger to her lips, distraught, thinking. She tilts her head to the side, nibbling upon her lower lip.

"Oh, I see... Can't speak, is that it?" Vayu murmurs, glancing left and right as though searching for assassins in the street's shadows. Only snow and torchsmoke greets him, intermingling into a gray haze that seems permanently affixed to Haven. "Very well," he notes, turning back to you. He bends over slightly, cocking his head, and staring right into your eyes. Like he wanted to find out what was behind them. *I can speak your language as well.* The words ghost over the surface of your mind, easily shut out, but there all the same.

Lorelei's frown disappears completely. Instead, she smiles radiantly, nodding in reply. *You are a telepath to? You are not an Atlantean?" she replies, staring back. This young Atlantean woman's mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, swirling about.

Vayu straightens a bit, the strangeness of extra-racial contact having faded and released him from concentration. He takes a deep breath, pulling the cloth of his cloak away from nose and mouth; likewise, he pulls down his hood. He's not actually that old. Perhaps late thirties or early forties. *I can indeed. And no, I am not an Atlantean... Quite Varati. But you can see why I would be asking about the High Priestess. I used to be the diplomatic envoy to the Atlanteans. How do your Decemvirates fare, these days?* When Vayu thinks, it's quite easy and conversational - but there are brief flashes when he concentrates that indicate his will is strong enough to crush stone.

Lorelei watches you, continuing to smile. *Varati? How interesting . . . the High Priestess? I could accompany you to the Korallion. I come from the Orman Decemvirate but . . . * She pauses slightly, trying to keep her thoughts in check so as not to overwhelm you with them.

There is a slight twitch to Vayu's face and his thoughts; a slight blip of mental white noise. *Orman, hmm?* He is amused by this, as though you were the latest tier in an ongoing joke that he had read part of, but never finished. *Interesting indeed. I'm actually afraid that I will have to go to Atesh-Gah and let them know I'm in Haven once again. But thank you for the offer, miss...?*

Lorelei's interest is sparked, eyes shining with curiosity, but she doesn't probe. *Yes, Orman* she replies instead. *Atesh-Gah? I could accompany you there? I have never been to Atesh-Gah and I would be curious to see it.* She pauses momentarily, again, holding back thoughts and images *Lorelei*

*Certainly, madam. Few Atlanteans have spent any time there at all, and of the four I can recall offhand, two were prisoners - Orcinus Shinjukou and Kuronbo,* Vayu notes, hefting his small pack and gesturing that you should precede him. *My name is Vayu Khalida Al-Sirat, and I imagine I may be spending quite a bit of time at the Korallion soon..* he adds, the name identifying him rather quickly as one of Khalid's clan. No wonder he has the go-ahead to invite strange Ormani into Atesh-Gah.

Lorelei smiles that much wider, her eyes shine that much more radiantly. *I will be delighted to accompany you* she tells you, enjoying your telepathic abilities. She usually has to make do with gestures and pads of paper. It's usually so difficult to communicate with other races. Nevertheless, she takes heed of your gesture and makes to precede you.

Courtyard - Atesh-Gah - Haven

     If indeed the Hebrew folk of lost Earth are correct in their legends, then this must be the legendary garden from which mankind was expelled. The flat expanse of the great courtyard of Atesh-Gah is covered in the most luxurious grass of bright emerald green, broken only by a cobblestone path for riding and walking to prevent wear upon the lawn. Rich copses of carefully tended wood grow by the walls, lovingly groomed flower gardens acting as a barrier of colour before the rising trees.

     Perhaps even more relaxing than the sight of the yard are the sensations of it. The lovely scents of flower and tree; honey-suckle, apple blossom, peach, and jasmine; combine with the soft cushion of green grass to provide a sense of peace and harmony that defies the looming sand-hued walls of unbreakable stone. Not even the shadowed maw of the main gate, nor the blocky, unimpressive presence of the impenetrable main keep can overshadow the beauty of this place. Indeed, the stark contrast serves only to enhance it.

The Atlantean and the Varati pause at Atesh-Gah's gates, the Agni-Haidar who make station there crossing spears with a growl. Vayu stops, recoiling a touch from their gesture. "Excuse me," he says, "If you would be so kind as to move the spears, we will enter, yes?" There is a minor tone of irritation in his voice, a touch of sandstone to the breeze that carries his words. They answer back, quietly. He murmurs another response, and they move the spears back slowly. "Thank you, honored ones." Proceeding into the courtyard at large, he exhales a large sigh. Perhaps he's glad to be 'home'?

Lorelei remains in back of you, watching, waiting. Indeed, she lingers, trying to take in all the sights, trying to see everything. Who knows if she will have another opportunity to come back here? It's not likely and, so, she trails after the Varati.

"It is said that when the First King walked aether, he journeyed to find If indeed the Hebrew folk of lost Earth are correct in their legends, then this must be the legendary garden from which mankind was expelled. The flat expanse of the great courtyard of Atesh-Gah is covered in the most luxurious grass of bright emerald green, broken only by a cobblestone path for riding and walking to prevent wear upon the lawn. Rich copses of carefully tended wood grow by the walls, lovingly groomed flower gardens acting as a barrier of colour before the rising trees.

Lorelei nods slowly, almost distractedly, in response, gazing about her in awe-struck wonder. *It is beautiful here* she says, simply, scarcely noticing the naraki. *Mayhap I should go?* she asks.

"No," Vayu notes, surveying the Naraki's retreating form with a strange expression on his face. "Politically speaking, I used to be much more influential. Consequently, I made more money. He was brought in with several other Naraki... And I bought his friend out of slavery." Vayu smiles at this, idly reaching up to lay a hand on a nearby poplar tree. "He looks down at you, and cocks his head rather pensively. "Tell me," he queries, "Do some, or any of the Atlanteans keep slaves? My memory is failing me on that issue."

Lorelei now turns to regard you, listening attentively. *I think you must have had an interesting life* she says, wandering toward where you stand. *No, we don't keep slaves* she replies, smiling, not only with her lips but with her eyes too.

Laughing under his breath, Vayu grits his teeth just a touch. "Well, one cannot exist as a diplomat for twenty years without picking up other cultures' 'bad habits'. Bad because they belong to other people, of course..." Vayu sniffs a bit, and takes a pleased, warm cast onto his features. The enigma of memory, trickling from brain to neck and down the spine, spreading it's way over one. Atlanteans know better than any other that the mind is a strangeness nonpareil. "My dear... Stay here as long as you wish, and if someone bullies you, leave and tell me later. I'll have words with them. Unfortunately, for now I am forced to greet the Maharani, as per is polite..."

The young Atlantean woman cannot help but laugh a little in reply, enjoying Vayu's company. *Thank you. It was a pleasure to meet you* she replies. *Good luck*

Vayu bows, two fingers touching his brow as he does so. "The pleasure was all mine, madam. I hope you have a pleasant day. And please... Don't tell the High Priestess I'm in Haven, if you can avoid it." He winks, looking momentarily very feral and fiendish. "I want to surprise her."