K'Lya, the Native
This 4'10", 60 lb young man has ritual scarring on his face and arms, black
eyes, a darkest black complexion and chin length spiked black hair. This little
man is so foreignly coloured and so very dark that it is hard to make him out
amongst the shadows. His skin truly does appear black with a faintly purple hue
in the light. Even his pitch black eyes and hair have a hint of that same sheen.
His skin, although still youthful, is marked with many odd looking designs and
symbols that must have been drawn with a blade.
K'Lya, the Native is wearing : basket, Native Throwing Spear Quiver, hunting
knife, Native Shield, Loincloth Fashioned From Woven Banana Leaves.
Carrying :
obsidian bladed wooden spear
K'Lya, the Native freezes with one foot up in the air as he realises that not
only has he just tried to sneak right into the middle of the settlement but he
has just blundered into the market and half the people there are now standing
there. He flashes a big wide grin at them and tries to look .. harmless. Yes
thats it. Harmless.
Ovidio is sitting on a horse, trying to do business with a few merchants. He has
a spear hoisted to his arm and the other hand rests against the pommel of his
scimitar.
K'Lya, the Native watches for signs of immediate hostility and when they dont
come he steps, a little tentatively forward. "Kyit?"
Calanthe has arrived.
Ovidio turns toward the strange dark-skinned individual that approaches. An
eyebrow arches and he lifts his chin before tentatively letting go of the grasp
upon the pommel of his sword. Particularly once he sells everything in the
wagon. "Hello. Do you speak my language?" It needs to be said!
K'Lya, the Native straightens his shoulders up to his full height as Ovidio
releases his grasp on the sword. "Kyit." he repeats again after Ovidio finishes
speaking. His slightly too wide smile still fixed into place. "An Kyit."
Dimitar arrives riding his Adair, the horse!
Maytana arrives riding her Adamina, the horse!
Maytana arrives as a passenger of Adamina, the horse.
Calanthe has heard the sound of commotion, and rushed up to the market to see
the… specimen. Now she's here, she doesn't seem too impressed. "Oh! he's so
small. Is he a child?".
K'Lya, the Native straightens his shoulders up to his full height as Ovidio
releases his grasp on the sword. "Kyit." he repeats again after Ovidio finishes
speaking. His fixed and slightly too wide smile only increases as people keep
bringing more of those big horse things into the area. "An Kyit."
Taking that for a no, Ovidio stops, considering what would be the most
chivalrious thing to do. A small amount of coins is taken from his purse and
offered toward the strange little man. "Very well, Kyit. Welcome to
civilization. A gift for you to remember us by."
Zilpah has arrived.
Dimitar rides in once again sometime later at a pace quite a bit faster than he
was in when he left. Maytana is beside him and the Agatam pair slow only once
the mass of people at the marketplace become an obstacle. Drawing nearer,
Dimitar slowly walks the horse up toward where the center of the commotion is
and finally comes to a halt where he can observe Ovidio and the strange native
fellow… conversing?
K'Lya, the Native gives the gathering crowd a quick look before looking back to
the mounted Ovidio. "Dlye San muro hss Sunat." he rapidly states in his
consonant heavy native tongue. "Sunat." he taps his basket. "En Kyit san Sunat?"
he looks to Calanthe. "Kyit?" and then he sits down quite suddenly, legs folded
and waits.
Rosella has arrived.
Raisa has arrived.
K'Lya, the Native gives the gathering crowd a quick look before looking back to
the mounted Ovidio. "Dlye San muro hss Sunat." he rapidly states in his
consonant heavy native tongue. "Sunat." he taps his basket. "En Kyit san Sunat?"
he looks to Calanthe. "Kyit?" and then he sits down quite suddenly, legs folded
and waits.
"Fruits? A basket?" Ovidio points at the nearest food merchant. "That man would
sell fruit. Su… nat." He points a finger at himself, "Ovidio." Then the finger
is pointed toward K'Lya. For one thing, the mounted knight seems rather
confused.
The fruit merchant looks behind himself, gulps and then starts to sidle away.
Zilpah listens, as the word has spread, of the mysterious native. She makes her
way through the crowd curiously to see this new… person.
Maytana arrives alongside Dimitar, her dark eyes wide at the crowd that's
gathered. she leads her horse to follow Dimitar's lead, and then, she gasps a
little bit as she spots K'Lya. Once she's got a good view, she doesn't move in
closer.
Calanthe blinks as she apparently has the natives attention. And shrinks away,
somewhat. "What does he want?" she asks, blinking at him. "It doesn't look like
he's planning on leaving very soon.".
Dimitar eyes the basket from his perch atop the horse and then looks towards
Ovidio, before focusing once more to the young native. "Possible he's asking for
something to trade for his… things," Dimitar remarks, gestures vaguely at the
basket. Drawing one leg over his mount, the Agatam man drops to the ground and
heads toward Ovidio, standing beside him; "What has he done so far?"
What was supposed to be a quick stop at the market is clearly more exciting than
Rosella thought! Pausing in her tracks, the tall young woman lifts her chin to
get a closer look at what is going on. She doesn't appear worried, but quite
curious, inching a little bit closer to get a better view. With one hand behind
her back and the other resting on her bared midriff, her head tilts to the side,
giving her a rather inquisitive bird-like appearance.
Raisa strides purposely into the marketplace, her arm raised at a slight angle
so that the harrier that sits upon it has a steady resting spot. She stops
abruptly upon noticing the commotion however. A delicate eyebrow arches upwardly
as she takes in the sight of the native and his attire.
The seated native removes a sheathed (and obviously su'ndi) knife from his belt
and waves it "Hru anat sunat" he takes a piece of something brown from his
basket and makes a great show of eating some of it. "anathe suro." he looks
around hopefully, flashing a salesmans grin to all the people gathered around.
"Anat sunat Suro."
"What things has he got?" Calanthe asks, in a tone reeking of disapproval. "Look
at that spear with a rock stuck on the end. What has he got which might actually
be of value? It isn't his spear. Or his loincloth. Ugh!". What a fashion faux
pas. "Oh, I see. Food that looks like dung.". Her lip curls.
Zilpah looks at the man she licks her lips and slowly observes the gestures and
actions. "Food…"
"Food it is, then." Ovidio considers, pulling out his jambiya. He turns it into
his palm before displaying it to the native. "Do you want something like this?"
It is pulled away quickly, however, meant to be a demonstrative gesture rather
than an actual offer. Sliding it back into the sheath, he points toward the
fruit merchant again. "You. Be a man and step forth." Then he looks to Dimitar,
"He's done nothing but approach us. And he has no grasp of our language. I do
not know if he will accept coin for his troubles, thus."
Dimitar wonders quietly as he observes the motions and comes up with a similar
idea to probably the rest of the crowd. A few seconds and then he reaches up to
unclasp his cloak, pulling it around front to dangle in front of him. With a
glance to Ovidio he shakes his head, "Do not give them weapons, what if they
learn to turn them against us?" he points out, clearly untrusting. Instead,
Dimitar takes two further steps forward and declares loudly: "I will trade," to
the native, waving the cloak and then pointing at the basket. It isn't like he
knows exactly what is in the basket, anyway - but clearly the cloak is worth
suffering a loss of.
Dimitar removes his a clean black felt cloak with golden embroidery.
"Anat sunat Suro?" Rosella repeats what the native says, fumbling with the
pronunciation. Still, the Jasmine woman is ever curious, tip-toeing even closer
until she has entirely joined the fray around him. She seems to be about to say
something until Dimitar steps up and waves a cloak around - her gaze slips from
him back to K'Lya, inquisitive.
Zilpah follows Rosella's lead. She raises an eyebrow at the rather wide
assortment of people.
Calanthe wrinkles her nose. "A cloak for dung? Meh.". She can't say she's too
impressed. "Maybe he has some oranges." she adds, a little more hopeful, and
takes a few steps forward, to peer into his basket from afar.
K'yla, the Native gives Ovidio an enthusiastic nod as the jambiya is displayed
and Rosella gets an overdone nod also. "Anat" he moves the basket. "Sunat" he
moves his sheathed knife "Suro" he repeats. As Dimitar starts waving the cloak
his smile fades and for a moment his hand touches the throwing spear at his
side. "An Kyit!" he declares loudly in the mans direction.
Raisa makes her way to the front of the crowd. A subtle nudge here and prod
there to move those out of her way. She immidently notices her nephew and niece,
"Dimitar? Please take Maytana away from here.." She casts a glance over the
gathered crowd before taking in the Natives clothing once again, or lack there
of, "Actually" She raises her voice, "I'm going to request that all of the
females present, please go with my nephew. Ladies do not need to see.." She
casts another glance at the Native, "This." She also spies Adair, the horse as
well. "Please take the hourse back to the stables as well." The Matriarch of the
Agatam House turns her attention fully to the Native after asking this. She
gestures towards the food in his hand, "We know not what type of.. meat that
is."
"Are you really afraid of a knife versus our more civilized weapons?" Ovidio
wonders of Dimitar, "We are trained for their use. They? I believe not. And I
would be surprised if they did not have an equivalent. Then again, you never
know, with savages. Then when the native reacts oddly to Dimitar he lifts a hand
to the man. "Wait."
Zilpah watches. "Now come now,m this is a major discovery for all of us, someone
who speaks a language that's different from our own.. and probably with
different believes and customs…"
"Clearly cloaks are not native fashion," Dimitar remarks, withdraws his cloak at
the man's sudden foreign declaration. "Food for a weapon doesn't seem
particularly wise," he does not aloud, but steps back and whips his cloak around
to once more drape it over his frame, clasping it simply. Raisa's appearance
causes him to turn and address her with a silent nod and he instantly bypasses
the crowd to return and mount up, despite the look of longing in his eyes.
Playing with the natives is fun! To Maytana he looks, gives a small shake of his
head and then realizes he has been asked to look after other women. Since they
arn't all herding up like good little followers, he uses it as an excuse to sit
and watch. "I suppose it would do us good to trade, but a weapon over
consumables does not seem fair to us," the Agatam heir expresses.
Calanthe peers. "It looks like eating dung-food is a custom I can do without. I
assume he wants daggers, not clothes. Presumably so he can arm his fellows. More
interest in weapons than fine clothes!". How crass. How expected.
Maytana arches her brows as she hears her Aunt's request to her brother, and
starts to protest, "Oh, but…" and, perhaps wisely, she does trail off, protest
dying on her lips. She purses her lips, then quirks Dimitar a little smile,
before she peers at the other women, and then back to her aunt. She does wheel
her horse about, to start it into a walk away from the crowds.
Sabri has arrived.
"Spice can be profitable. It all depends on how well conserved said food can be.
As far as I know, anyone who's ever dealt with the military knows that certain
rations are harder to come by. At any rate." Reaching into his purse once again,
coin is offered toward the native before he points toward the basket and then
the fruit merchant. "I will buy your food with this, and you will buy food from
him. Understood?" Normally he'd offer a shiny pyrite stone, but you know.
K'lya, the Native relaxes once Dimitar stops actively waving the cloak around,
readily removing his hand from the weapon and stating "An Kyit." as if it means
something profound and very relevant. His focus moves back to Ovidio, who he
clearly views as some kind of leader and he carefully moves to his feet,
watching for any negative reactions and repeating that word "Kyit." as he does
so.
When nobody moves to object K'lya starts moving towards Ovidio. He pauses for a
moment to eye the horse with evident suspicion but when it doesn't turn into
some weird man-eating monster he continues in his journey to move close enough
to touch Ovidio's leg. "Anat Sunat Suro." he repeats again. Then he delves into
his basket, fishes out one piece of the food and offers it up to Ovidio. "El
Anat Sul sunat" at this point he points to Ovidio's spear. "Surose?"
"Does he want another basket - anat?" Rosella crinkles her nose in confusion,
leaning forward a little to peer at the man and his possessions. "Spear," she
says, punctuating her word with an 'ah.' The Jasmine straightens up, gaze very
curiously fixated on K'lya and Ovidio.
Raisa flicks her whiskey brown eyes at Dimitar once more? "Did I not tell you to
take your sister and go, nephew? It was not a request.. to the rest of the
houses females who are here, it was." She softens her tone and adds to Dimitar,
"Once you know she is safely home, as well as the horse, I would appreciate it
if you came to escort me home as well.. after this is over." She turns her
attention back to the Native and Ovidio, lightly twitching the jesses in her
hand so that Aja takes up perch on her shoulder. She exhales quietly before
informing Ovidio, "He wants to trade for your spear, would be my guess. However,
until the Council speaks of it, please do not be trading with the Natives."
Dimitar can delay once, but not twice! Not from the matriarch of his family on
this matter, anyway. With a nod, he turns his horse and quickly catches up with
Maytana to start at a light gallop towards the Agatam estate.
Dimitar and Maytana have left.
"Weapons! See?" Calanthe exclaims. "I told you. You should be careful, anything
you give him might well be used to be jammed into the guts of one of our own.
And it's not like he's really offering anything in return.". She wrinkles her
nose at the glop he's peddling.
"Spear." Ovidio explains the word to the native, gesturing toward his weapon. A
hand reaches out for the food, which he studies, sniffs and frowns toughtfully.
"You may approach. We mean no harm," the knight guarantees, a sidelong glance
cast toward Raise before a nod is given. "I will not trade him my weapon, but I
believe this is an offering." The food is gestured toward the native, and then
pointed toward himself; eyebrow creeps up in an unspoken question.
Thud, Scrape, thud, the sounds of a heavily weighted frame atop thick-leather
soled shoes crack the immediate vicinity around Sabri, who stands at upright and
walking with a heavy trudge of a man on a mission. A reputable furrow to his
heavy dark black brow, his almandine eyes pierce intensley into the crowd. The
long, thick leather apron of a smith still draped over his torso, somewhat
masking his clothes, and his traditional smith's hammer dangling from his belt
as if it was a weapon of mass destruction. He stops, a dull, solid stop, and
peers, his gaze peering directly toward the Native and his off-kilter skintone.
With a scowl crossing his lips, he escelates his chin slightly, squinting his
eyes, "Why is this -thing- In our *MARKET*" He booms loudly, his deep, gruffy
voice of too much time spent inhaling forge heat and smoke echoing in the
area… This is clearly, NOT, MR. Nice Guy.
Dimitar has arrived.
Raisa nods at Ovidio but also states simply 'I am well aware, how—" She looks
to the side and notes Sabri.. How can you not with all the noise the man makes?
Well this is about to get interesting. Raisa greets in him turn, "Sabri" She
inclines her head in general acknowledgement of his presence. She turns her
attention back to the native before telling Sabri "I believe he's wanting to
trade.. however I've informed those here that the council needs to speak of that
first." She gestures to Ovidio, "I believe he think it's an offering of some
sort."
K'lya, the Native moves a little closer to Ovidio only to jump back again when
the horse twitches. "Spear." he repeats slowly and awkwardly before nodding
enthusiastically. "Anat Sunat Spear?" he shows the sheathed hunting knife - as
much a tool as a weapon - to Ovidio again. "Anat Sunat Suro?" He points at the
item Ovidio is holding and then to his mouth and then he shows the basket.
"Anat." Again he touches his mouth as part of his attempted explanation.
"kyit'su slin" the ' is basically a click sound. At about that point Sabri makes
his declaration of intent known and he half turns to look across at the Zeru
Patriarch and offer one defensive word. "El Kyit."
Calanthe mehs. "He likes the El Kyit. Is that that red gunk?" she asks. She
feels rather safer now half the town is gathered around. And he's only small.
And her bluster is increasing in proportion to the number of Su'ndi weapons
about.
Dimitar returns in time and silently angles his way through the crowd until he's
standing to the right and a little behind of Raisa, silent and observant.
When the Patriarch approaches, Ovidio angles his head once to him, falling
silent as he scrutinizes the native. "I believe he is asking me whether I will
eat it." This is spoken outloud, as he tries to puzzle together what the native
means despite having no grasp of the unique language in question. Pause, and he
studies the native and the food. "And now he is wary of my esteemed Patriarch. I
will eat, as we will find out what was the intent, then. My apologies," he
states to Raisa, before placing the kassoan delight into his mouth and eating
slowly.
Sabri squints his eyes again - this time directly at the Native himself.
Unsiprisingly, he doesn't break his gaze to acknowledge Raisa simply by speaking
her name aloud, however, SUPRISINGLY, he does not, act inherently violent.
Instead, he adjusts his jaw from left to right slowly, hooking his thumbs along
his heavy sword / tool belt around his waist, and eyeballs the Native
helplessly. HE finally does something, and raises a hand, pointing a thick,
leathery calloused finger at the native, "El Kyit" he attempts to repeat gruffy,
making a slight face as if he just ate something sour. He inclines his chin
down, toward his chest, and looks past his heavy brow at the Native then. As if
curious to his response.
Zilpah has left.
K'lya, the Native gives Ovidio an encouraging nod as he goes to put the food in
his mouth. A somewhat confused smile is offered in response to Calanthe and
Raisa's words. Then Sabri repeats those two important words and his attention
moves to the Zeru Patriarch instead. "An Kyit." he says in reply before offering
a very formalised looking bow. "Sol sunat an njan brol sassan"
Calanthe ahs. "Maybe El Kyit is like, hello." she decides. She starts to press
in a little closer, to see just what it is he's peddling. Aside from goop. "He
seems quite brave." she admits, as there is quite a crowd gathering, making him
look very small compared to everybody else.
"This is surprisingly good." Ovidio declares by breaking another part of the
morsel with his hand and offering it toward Raisa. Deference to the other
family's matriarch and all. "It is not bad, your honor."
"What'd you just say?" Dimitar wonders of the Zeru Patriarch, widening his eyes
a bit. A glance to Raisa is given and then he mutters quietly, "If we just
accepted some sort of treaty, we have no idea what that /means/." Ovidio is eyed
as he extends a portion of the strange food to Raisa and then he glances back at
the native.
Raisa hears Calanthe's words "Reguardless of what he has to trade or offer, it
will not happen until the council has spoken of it." She states this firmily
-again-. Her eyes sparkle with anger as she acknowledges her nephews words,
"Indeed." She eyes the "dung" in Ovidios hand that is outstretched to her, more
of a mind with Calanthe in how it looks even if she doesn't voice that
perception outloud. She tightens her hold on the Harrier's jesses noticeably,
causing Aja to expand his wings for a few good flaps, causing the air to shift
in the Marketplace. Visibly calming herself, she murmurs softly to the Harrier,
soothing it. Once back under control she returns her attention to Ovidio, "I
appreciate that it might not taste, "Bad", however, as I stated again, until the
council has spoken of it. I believe it is best if we not taking anything of
theirs. They might mistake it for more than we intend."
Sabri watches the Native slyly, as if expecting him to try something fishy. Much
to his suprise - or perhaps his dismay, nothing happens. Looking at the Native
for another moment, studiously, he finally lowers his torso slightly, bowing his
head just enough to appear respectful, though watches the Native all the same
from beneath his brow. Glancing at Calanthe momentarily, "I'm partial to
believing El Kyit means he comes in peace or something of the nature" and then
returns to the Native. He taps his right ring finger against his belt idly as he
looks, and finally moves again, crouching down toward the ground, he glances up
at the Native and directing him with his hand to look at what he does. He then
sticks his finger into the dirt, and draws a crude hut looking structure,
glances up to make sure the native is following, and then points to the Hut,
motioning a hand to the area as if to designate this symbol as where they are
currently. He then points at the Native, and gestures as if to ask where he cam
from.
Calanthe has left.
K'yla, the Native moves towards where Sabri is and crouches across from him. He
watches the squiggles get drawn into the dirt with solemn attention before
looking back up at Sabri without much comprehension in his eyes. "Dilit?" he
points at one of the nearby buildings. "Dilit Sunat?"
Kasmira has arrived.
K'yla, the Native moves towards where Sabri is and crouches across from him. He
watches the squiggles get drawn into the dirt with solemn attention before
looking back up at Sabri without much comprehension in his eyes. "Dilit?" he
points at one of the nearby buildings. "Dilit Sunat?"
Retrieving the piece of kassoan delight back to himself, Ovidio respects Raisa's
wishes with a nod, a quick snapping of his ankles against the sides of the horse
to guide it toward his patriarch, veteran knight that he is. The foodstuff is
then offered in Sabri's direction with due deference, but an uplifted chin.
<Autojudge: » Kasmira checks ingenuity + lang/old_native : SUCCESS! - 1 degree
of success!
Sabri intently watches the Native across from him, and emits a low, near
inaudible, 'hrmm' in thought. As the Native points at a building, Sabri glances
at it, and then glances back at the Native, then raises a hand and points to the
same building, and then to the drawn hut in the sand. "Here…" he says, and
then when pointing at the 'hut' he repeats himself, "Here" Sabri then taps his
own chest, and points to the 'hut' Following by pointing to everyone else
around, and then back at the Hut, identifying clearly, at least to himself, that
he was attempting to say everyone was form here. He then moves to point at the
Native, though is interrupted by Ovidio and his horse… With a low, slow exhale
from his nostrils, he glances a cold, icy glance up at the man, and squints his
eyes warningly, "Off the damned horse you baffoon, Do you see anyone else
trotting around here? Yes, I thought not." he doesn't wait for a response, he
just turns his attention back to the Native, and points to him then, and makes a
slow circular motion around the 'hut' to gesture to the outlying lands around
the OutPost, he then shrugs his shoulders as in 'I don't know' - his best
attempt at trying to ask where the man is from in relation to where the outpost
lies.
Danna has arrived.
Raisa silently keeps her attention on Sabri and the Native. She slowly nods her
head in approval of what is happening, her hand releasing it's tightened grip
from the jesses in her palm. Her features smooth out evenly and she settles in
to wait and see what else might take place.
Ovidio raises an eyebrow, gaze darkening a little before guiding the horse back
to the wagon and the donkey he was apparently leading before the native's
incursion. No more words are offered Sabri, though. Click of tongue, and he gets
the binding to the wagon before attacking it to the saddle, steering the entire
thing away.
Kasmira wanders on down from the east as word finally reached her that a real
live native was in town. Or maybe a monster. That part was unclear. Her eyes
widen as they settle upon the strange little man and she picks up her pace,
pulling some papers out of her backpack. When she reaches the crowd she gently
tries to press her way through for a closer look and listen, her eyes positively
sparkling.
The very moment she gets a good view she starts to scribble down notes,
barely blinking, so transfixed on the specimen she barely seems to notice she
isn't alone with him. With a soft, awkward tone, unsure of pronunciation or
cadence, she speaks a single word of greeting in a language quite foreign. Her
eyebrows lift as she watches the native for a reaction.
Raisa notes Kasmira in the crowd and a smile actually creases her lips. She
gestures to her in hopes to get her attention so that she may beable to see more
clearly what is going on. "Kasmira, come, stand by me. Mayhap you can help your
father figure out what is being said here."
K'yla, the Native watches all of Sabri's wild gesturings with evident patience
but little understanding. In fact when Sabri is distracted by Ovidio the short
man moves back to his feet and turns his head up to the sky and then back down
to the Zeru Patriarch but before he can speak Kasmira says something to him that
appears to at least ring a bell. Although it is still obvious that it doesn't
match his own words. "El Kyit." he says, bowing formally towards her before
starting to rapidly fire off more words. "Sural hin kyit'nli" he gestures with
his basket. "Anat Surat Suro?" the sheathed knife is then patiently displayed to
the group. "El Surat brih'h tofan li?"
Sabri sighs helplessly, but shrugs his shoulders as the native stands - at least
he tried. Standing soon after the own native, he glances at Kasmira who speaks a
word of that -stuff- and he blinks a bit. "Well, then…" he mutters and then
turns his attention to the Natives display of the knife. Sabri looks at it for a
moment, furrowing his alreayd low brow, as if appraising the knife. The
experienced smith mutters a low 'hummm' and then reaches back to remove his own
Jambiya from it's sheath, holding it flat in his palm for the Native to see, to
which he arches an eyebrow curiously. He then points to his Jambiya, and offers
in a slow, drawn out tone, "Kn-iii-fe"
Kasmira looks up with a blink as though finally noticing that there's a crowd.
"Y-Yes, Matriarch Agatam." Her papers now have some of the best information
she's retrieved since coming to this land, and she clutches them like precious
jewels as she makes her way in Raisa and Sabri's direction. Appropriately
relocated she returns the native's bow and echoes, "El Kyit." To Sabri, she
smiles politely and shows him her notes.
"Pata, I think I can help a little. I only know a few of the words,
and… I don't know many of those. 'El Kyit' was a greeting. I think he is
telling us about his knife, and his basket. I think he wants us to see that he
has not drawn his weapon."
Again in her stilted tongue, she tries, "S-surat?" She seems aware that
it's a stupid thing to say, but at least it's something.
Dimitar has left.
K'Lya, the Native latches on quickly it seems. He looks quickly back to Sabri
and gives him another of his salesmans smiles. "Anat Surat Spear." he states
emphatically. "anasan Anat Surat Kn-iii-fe." Spear and Kn-iii-fe are both
obviously su'ndi words he has picked up along the way. A similar smile is
offered to Kasmira. "El Surat? Anat" he shows her the basket. "Surat Spear." A
hand is pointed in Ovidio's direction and he puts his fingers to his lips.
"Laran hanit arat shoo'li"
Raisa nods her head once again in acknowledgement to Kasmira, realizing she has
it well in hand. She turns to inform Sabri, "Sabri.. I'm sure we'll hear about
this at the next meeting?" She knows the answer already and turns with Aja on
her shoulder still and strides from the marketplace.
Raisa has left.
Kasmira nods her head, brows furrowed in focus as she writes. "I think that…
'Anat Surat' means something like, 'this is my'. Or maybe that's what 'anat'
means, and the 'surat' part is some sort of qualifier? I wonder if he'd be
willing to tell me all the words he knows?" Even just a lexicon with no
definitions would be a tremendous help. Also an incomprehensible amount of work.
Smiling back at the native, she nods her head. "Bass-ket. Surat basket."
K'lya, the Native watches Kasmira and repeats "bass-ket." before handing her a
piece of the brown 'food' from his basket that Calanthe so wonderfully described
as 'dung' "Bass-ket" he offers her the item and then touches his mouth. "kyit'su
slin" (the ' is basically a click sound.) He waits, takes a deep breath and then
repeats his previous requests only now with the new word. "bass-ket surat spear
anasan Anat Surat Kn-iii-fe."
Kasmira looks at the brown lump in her hand, a hint of fear in her face. Dammit,
K'Lya, she's a historian, not a diplomat. In the interests of international
cooperation, she closes her eyes and bites into it. A cautious chew. Then
another.
"Mmmm… that's wonderful!" She takes another bite, then clutches the
treat between her teeth in a slightly unladylike manner while she digs through
her pack and comes up with a little cloth parcel. From within she withdraws a
simple rice biscuit, and offers it toward the native.
"Anat surat biscuit." She seems a little more confident in her
pronunciation now. Vocabulary, not so much.
K'Lya, the Native gives the item offered by Kasmira a curious look before
lightly taking the bisquit from Kasmira's hand and tucking it away in his
basket. "K'lya surat." he says with a smile. "Anat Surat Spear." he points
meaningfully at Ovidio.
"Does he want my spear or something, dear sister?" Ovidio asks of Kasmira,
speaking now that Sabri's left the premises. He's making last-minute bindings to
the wagon in order to bring it back home. Sliding off the horse, he rests the
butt of the spear against the ground.
Kasmira all but jumps when Ovidio speaks up, blinking at him wide-eyed. Holding
her native-granted snack in one hand, she takes a moment to look over the rest
of the crowd and ensure no further surprises. Her mouth opens with a look of
confidence before she pauses and states, "I don't know. I think he's calling you
his spear, but… that hardly makes any sense. He seems friendly enough. You
could offer it to him, as a sign of good will?"
Looking back to their guest, she returns his smile but says nothing. If
only she had some sort of objective knowledge of what a K'Lya was… alas she
does not, and so it is just another unknown word.
K'Lya, the Native looks between the two as they speak before asking again but a
little different this time. "bas-ket surat kn-iii-fe?"
"We cannot trade with them. However," Ovidio grins. "As I took the foodstuff
from him and gave nothing in exchange, I believe that repayment for the lost
product is in order, per our custom. Ask him, if you can, if he would like coins
to make up for the food."
Kasmira seems confused, giving her head a shake, "I'm sorry, brother. I do not
know his language that well. Surely we can consider this an exchange of gifts
and worry about trade formalities later?" There's a pleading look in her eyes,
one that says, 'this is what I came here for.' "I think that he's saying that
the knife goes in the basket? I don't know. If only I'd had a little more time
to study…"
"This is going to get me in trouble with the Patriarch but, what the heck. I
don't like to get told off that way." Ovidio reaches out for his knife and
places it in the Native's basket. "A gift for a gift. If you stick this in a
Kihoan I will probably have to march and kill you." This is spoken in a monotone
toward K'Lya, who might not understand it anyway.
K'Lya, the Native glances back at the heavens again and then back down again his
expression showing that what he sees is of concern to him. Thats about when
Ovidio actually offers over the weapon. K'lya moves over to Ovidio and presses
the baskets into his hands before repeating the baffling word once more. "El
Surat." That done he takes the jambiya, steps back and bows to them both. "An
Kyit an."
"May luck bless your path," Ovidio murmurs to the native, glancing at Kasmira
and then the basket. He offers it toward her. "Put this in the doorstep of one
of the poorer houses or somewhere where this food would actually be eaten. Both
of us know how good this happens to be and, apparently, we're the only ones to
make any sort of meaningful contact."
Kasmira practically beams at Ovidio, "Thank you, brother." She bows her head to
K'lya and echoes his words, "El Surat. An Kyit an." Her papers are tucked
carefully back in her backpacks, then she goes to retrieve the basket as
instructed.
K'Lya, the Native bows once more and then he heads off back to the northwest.
