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Author Topic: Memoirs of a Moor  (Read 1789 times)
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« on: May 31, 2011, 02:41:17 AM »

We now recount the Fabulous Revenge of al-Mukhtar on his accursed enemy Anthor, King of Kafirs, as told by Dani al-Ghazali.

Shortly after I was deposed from my rightful leadership of Durham, I made my way to Wiksik. For though my allies had conspired with my enemies and cast me out of my Prosperous Village, I was still al-Mukhtar, and I still had responsibilities, one of which was to ensure that the murderer of seyyid Machetti would trouble Durham no more.

But on my way to this accursed den of kafir iniquity, I was waylaid by a parrot I recognized as one of Anthor's breed. My hand swiftly found purchase on its wings and I trussed up the horrid clacking creature in twine before allowing it to relay its inhuman message:

"Anthor," sayeth the bewitched avian, "demands your presence on Wicksick Isle (which civilized tongues call Midway), there to settle your dispute with trial by combat, away from interlopers and mercenaries. Be there in one week."

After hearing the message I quickly despatched the parrot and divided its bones from its flesh, for it is well-known that the evildoers of Wiksik possess the infernal power not only to make dumb beasts speak, but to divine the location of their unholy henchmen with wicked runes and sigils. They would be most surprised to learn from their fowl incantations that their emissary was in multiple places at once, just like the fabled saints of Christian mythology were said to do. Onward I went to face my destiny.

At last I reached the shores of Midway, and stripping off my robes I bent my knees to the sand and made prayer to Prophet Mo, both that he guide my blade true, and that he ensure that my henna stayed dry during my swim, for it can look very unsightly after exposure to water and I had no time to re-apply it before the match. Then, kicking my heels once, I dove into the sea. My superhuman Moorish lungs had not even begun to deflate before I reached the other side of the shore, and standing upright, saw a black obelisk jutting obscenely into the sky. The Tower of Midway.

I collected my robes, checked my skin for blurry brown gunk, and finding only a little sand on each, I dressed and made my way to The Tower. I had it on good authority that human sacrifices had traditionally been performed in this accursed place, where headhunters and necromancers alike bent Skull to pay homage. As I climbed the cracked steps I expected to smell the hateful aroma of burnt baby flesh, but then I recalled that the Peninsula Federation had long maintained stewardship of this place after a forgettable war delivered it into their hands, and despite being of the same village from whence my career disaster dwelled, they surely had swept the place clean of any overt wrongdoing. Of their presence I could find no Trace...  

As I reached the batiments I saw the raiments of the Native kingdom grossly arrayed on the roof where we would do battle. I cursed that I had not thought to bring a flag of my own, the shining crescent and star by which many a Dalpoki had been branded with. On closer reflection, however, I realized it was not so importunate, for was I not fighting for such things? It was not simply duty to some ungrateful pack of ingrates that drove me here, but the restoration of my pride. I marched into the centre, where some fool boy who fancied himself someone of renownwas hastily scrawling a ring, and I bellowed, "Let justice be done on the King of Kafirs!" And then I saw him, skulking in the shadows, the noxious enemy himself. Anthor.

He was dressed richly in garments the like I had not imagined such primitives were capable of producing, with patterns that rivaled in beauty the designs on the minarets of al-Andalus. His broad shoulders were bedecked with sparkling gems, and his face was less daemonic than I'd expected. He saw me as I saw him, no doubt, two magnificent rulers facing each other for the final time. He held up his hand to indicate parley, then spoke...    

Continued in The Prosperous Village of Durham thread!

Shroombaker says “Who was it that was looking for Dani
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