Zakhara month names:

• Taraq
• Masta
• Magarib
• Gammam
• Mihla
• Qawafil
• Holy day of Ahad
• Holy day of Atnen
• Holy day of Salas
• Holy day of Arba
• Holy day of Yasad
• Safa
• Dar
• Riyah
• Nau
• Rahat
• Saris

Months have 30 days, and the five holy days don't have any months, they just come after 30th of Qawafil and before 1st of Safa.

Första taraq börjar året,
nästa masta kommer näst.
Magarib, gamman har knopp i håret,
Mihla, qawafil blommar mest.
Safa, dar och riyah,
härlig sommar är det då.
Men nau och rahat
och saris är så grå.

The party is

• Jalara abd-Jamil, a bugbear corsair
• Djut, a goblin corsair
• Keeze, a goblin sa’luk
• Na’im al-Qadib, an air genasi flamewind sorcerer

Everyone has a shared goal: to get onboard a ship by capturing the Sea Ghost. Unfortunately they don’t really know much about that ship.

The two corsairs also want revenge on the pirates on Sunless Island.

Keeze and Na’im have a shared past… that they don’t know about. They’ve both suffered memory loss. They used to be level 12 characters with some kind of relationship – the nature of that relationship is still a mystery – but one of them used a Wish “I wish we had never met” which reset their lifes and wiped their memories. Back to level 1. Back to the old fishing village.

jag vet att jag har minnesluckor men det är ändå inte så konstigt efter alla fester jag varit på och allt man rökt, druckit och testat på där

ta det lugnt?! haha nej det kommer inte hända. måste ju hänga med i svängarna, skvallra, dansa och allt det där… jag är en livsnjutare in i märgen

men… det känns som att jag har varit vassare med kniven och snabbare på fötterna eller att jag borde vara det, en mycket märklig känsla… det känns som deja vu varje gång jag lär mig något nytt!

fast jag kommer mycket väl ihåg mitt kall och uppgift här i livet… ja även vi tjuvar har vår heder och mästare som ger oss uppgifter ibland

jag kommer också ihåg mina drömmar om att en dag grunda en stad för alla tjuvar, tiggare, gatubarn, rövare och andra på samhällets botten

som en ny Hawa ungefär… jag har varit där en gång, det minns jag, ett fantastiskt ställe!

och givetvis kommer det finnas plats för ett rejält bibliotek för vad vore en fest utan er magikers fyverkerier och konster?

men först måste vi hitta ett lämpligt ställe att grunda en stad på och för att göra det så behöver vi en bra båt

• 1494
  • Taraq
  • Masta

Acererak created the dagger from a shard of the soul monger, a magical skullgem, a ring of intelligence, smoke of his breath, and the heart of a dragonborn, and the stone itself is in fact a fragment of his own life.

The dagger is made from the soul of a living natural creature, and it cannot be healed from the death of a living creature. The soul in question is the mishap of a living creature, and the dagger is the destruction of a living creature. The dagger is never killed, as it is a living creature, and the destruction of the mishap is always the death of the living creature.

The dagger can be used as a weapon, as a tool, or an ordinary dagger.

When al-Bek, the Kahin, ordered Sir Bradford to destroy the dagger, the ghosts inside were restored from the evil forms Acererak had turned them into and their souls found peace among the planes.

Even as the plane guardians watched their numbers dwindle, their sovereigns continued to look on with hope and goodwill, and the Vizier of Fate also continued to watch the trouble with which the planeshifts were carried out. When the planeshifts had been completed, Vizier Hajama ibn Abd al-Waqadah, the God of Courage, was among those who were most disturbed, for the change that he saw was not one that he had been warned of.

Four plain golden rings were forged, one for each of the four heroes. Sharwin al-Hukra, the Wind/Sea mage. Her brother, Talgen, the corsair, and his corsair friend, just going by al-Karakas. They had been joined by an outland warrior, Sir Bradford, who carried the legendary Shatterspike.

They each had their names carved into their rings. And swore to always wear them as they were meant to be the everlasting party.

They kept on coming up from night to night, but one night they had all been at their lodgings, when the evil spirit of wanderlust that was in them gathered them all together, and took them to the palace, where the pumpkin-headed queen was sitting on her throne.

Al-Karakaras was Treasury, and was the first to wear the ring, but many of the Masters of the trade are not great, and know well enough all the plots of the Enemy, having been appointed by him. He is the First to salvage the sheep of the Desert, and to wander over more lands than any other, for a simple desire to see the light, and a desire to have the best of the best of the apples for his fellow sa'luks to eat.

Krag is what they call me.

Two times every day, Eli had looked out over the dead horizon. I had watched him, almost every time, seen the rays of sun dance over his neck of sand and earth, as he looked out over the water. His name for the sea was his roaring, crashing danger.

That danger was not how he died.

Neither the waves nor the dunes claimed him. Humanity did.

A man with white clothes, a red sash, and a silver ring with a golden, embedded symbol of a scimitar had struck him down. Openly in the street. Apprehended immediately, of course, by the confused guards. With Gellan al-Pirwa, the godfather of smuggler bands, still in jail, the guards were lost at sea with Mahnaz in exile and Eli dead.

Jumlat's influence over Safaq is slipping rapidly, and perhaps that's for the best. I was never as invested as Eli was in the sultan and his affairs. I was happy to work with my hands and shovel during the day, and read into the wee hours by candlelight in the evening.

I feel just lost as lost as the guards, as Safaq as a whole. I haven't looked over Eli's financials yet or how I'm gonna pay for this place. I am still living in his house. I still use my own room. I still read Eli's books. I still use his towels, still eat off his plate. I am still stretched on his grave.

A bard cast Awaken on a crab, and the other missionaries were deeply moved by the crab's dedication to Hakiyah and named her Barnacle Bess.

She loved singing, and especially singing hymns dedicated to Hakiyah's wave of truth, and the most famous of them is

Weeping, my beloved, who adores the sea and the land,

Our hearts are filled with the sorrows of our own tears.

We have vowed to give you our lives, for you are a great one

O Hakiyah!

They say that the one who is most beloved is the greatest of matters,

and that the greatest of the great is the greatest of the lesser.

I have sworn to you, to give my life to find out what is true,

O Hakiyah!

She was adored by the missionaries.

The Faith Ethoist of Hakiyah is gradually becoming more secular; the priests now involve themselves in local issues, and the faith is more familiar with the settlers. The faith is also less invited to be involved in politics.

In the present day, the faith is a highly respected institution, often referred to as the Widow's Keepers because of its passage of years. The faith remains one of the few institutions in the Land of Fate to keep a watchful eye of the latest arrivals of holy slayers and mamluk.

Rubban Safaq bin-Jute himself assembled a force of half the people of the city, together with the sultan's vizier, to confront the hags, lead by Evanore bint-Rūm.

Safaq and his crew defeated the hags and their fish, and they had a great victory.

When Evanore and the other hags saw their fate, they were filled with regret and stayed in captivity. They were allowed time to think of a plan, but when they did, they found that the time for their escape was short. They took a ship from the city, but when they got there, they were met by a swarm of hounds who took them prisoners. They prisoned them in the palace, but when they had been taken there, they set about making their escape.

When they got there, they had to bear a great deal of cruelty and they had to eat the flesh of five hogs. Each of them had to go through the streets of the palace for a whole day, but when they were brought back and told that the palace was empty, they got up and left.

When Safaq saw the shipwreck and the slaughter, he was satisfied and said: "This is a wicked and treacherous race and they are all doomed."

Henrietta's Jewels & Appraisal is a merchant's shop run by a misfit who is also a wizard. The shop is full of exotic and exotic items, usually hidden under the tops of bookshelves.

The shop is respected by the local gentry, and is often visited by the stables of the Black Riders, who have complained of the shop due to the number of odd (and colorful) items they see there.

The shop is usually full of exotic and exotic items from top to bottom, but the problem is the shopkeeper's son. The shop also sells a wide variety of gemstones, but the shopkeeper's son is more interested in his own jewelry and accessories than in dealing with the locals.

Henrietta herself is a merchant who frequents the canteen and bath and mooch. She has no idea why, but is still fond of it. She also has a dimmish but fond sense of humor.

As you all know, this eulogy is for Rumfels, who was eaten by an orca earlier today.

Rumfels was usually alone. Half-elven, half-human, and with an ambiguous expression, who liked to wear a big, loose cloak of camel wool, originally brown but worn thin pale gray through many years on board sunny decks.

The craftmanship of this cloak must've been superb originally because the one time I saw them take it off, not a stitch was loose. It was only the cloth itself that was being worn threadbare, day and night, almost exposing the quilted lining.

Their bahrayin's rucksack contained several balls of twine, some finer thread and needle, a mess kit, a tinderbox, and a durable, heavy lantern.

A couple of times I saw them at the docks, marveling at the tales of sailors from other ships especially when they had sea creatures or exotic treasures on display.

As far as I know, they grew up on the high seas, but those seas never lost their sense of wonder and fascination to them. Often looking wistfully at the sun glittering on the waves of the Golden Gulf and further south, on the Crowded Sea itself.

I asked them once where they had gotten the name Rumfels and at first I couldn't hear their mumbled reply. I asked again, and they said, still softly: "Because I always set aside my last fels, my last copper piece, for some rum."

The House of Dhi'b, or as some call them, the Sons of the Wolf, are ruled by an old, gaunt sheikh, Anwat al-Makkar, nicknamed the "skeleton". He is not long for this world. His granddaughter Moira al-Dhi'b is too young to rule.

Anwat's advisor, the legendary sha'ir Mamun bin Harun bin Hamid, traveled to Hiyal to search help but was referred to the gnome rulers of Sikak. Those rulers did not open the gates to this scruffy sha'ir with his al-Badia–accented Midani. They did not let up whether they knew of his reputation as commander of genie.

On the island village of Samak, he received the hushed whispers: "Bring your young ruler-in-waiting to the hakimas on Saliam Island". Eager to return home, he signed up with the Sea Ghost Trading Company for passage home to his tribe in the deserts west of Ajayib.

Thirsty Salt is what they call me, and me and my best friend Clever Copper are acolytes here at Safaq's Hakiyah mosque.

Petitioned by the residents of Safaq, Na'wa min-Hakiyah, the new priest, had attempted to raise the guard captain, Eli, from beyond the shroud between life and death.

Accompanied by two of the novices, Hafam and Zobeiza, they commenced the hour-long, solemn process. Suddenly, after just a few minutes, we heard a terrible commotion, screams and… and a snarling, wet sound.

I, and Namarida, one of the novices here, rushed up the stairs and on the other side of the door we saw a horrible stillness. Spatter on the wall and floor and the three of our fellow clergy, with whom we break bread before every vesper and after every laud, dead. Their injuries too gruesome to detail, but, seemingly committed by tooth, claw, and a curiously precise assortment of needles.

Eli's own body still on the slab, not a drop on him.

This veteran's cane, and when you have been given this one, you will help him carry it.

He will not be injured by it, but it is not safe to be too full of it.

He may get rid of his fears and doubt, but he will not be hurt by it at all.

He will not be hurt by it, but in the name of Hajama, as a traveler in a state of great danger.

I see that you are a man of understanding, That is one of those who know the truth.

When he had finished, the imam got up and said: "I have heard, O merciful king, That there is a stranger among the people of the city, As tall as a mountain with a beard like a peacock."

This veteran's cane is as a white ornament: it is used to keep them like the enamel in a vase or as a mirror:

It is used by sailors as a weapon for striking with and some as a weapon when they are being fond of us.

When their druggist makes his or her bed, the two of them are in the habit of drinking wine together and eating, and sometimes they make a peaceable companionship; but they are as a rule never together.

All in all, I prefer to take the chains and, if I are beaten, I will follow your example.

If I find myself in a place where I can't get away, I will cut my own wood and burn my own stoves, and so on. His eyes glinted, and his heart beat like a spring in the storm.

His apprentice, the faithful quartermaster Captain Xendros, said:

"In such cases, I dare you, my master, to pick a quarrel with me? You are the one who brought me up, and I have been wronged by you. In that case, it is not for me to give you a choice between me and him, and if I am beaten by you, I shall cut my own wood and burn my own stoves, and I shall then have to fight for you. I do not think you can make the choice, master," said the merchant with the burning mouth, "and it does not please me to hear you complain of the wrongs you have done me and of the injustice you have done me. You are a coward, and I shall strike up my own shop on the coast of the Crowded Sea."

The Loregiver tells of an amira in the twelfth century.

With a group of soldiers, they expertly escorted the amira through the streets of the district, where she was met by a small crowd of onlookers. Her presence was also noticed by two rulers of the palace, whom she had in her service. The latter were the husband-to-be and the younger daughter of the vizier, and that is to say, the two who were killed in the palace.

The palace guards, who had been watching over Gana in private but as usual remained in and out of her presence, were muttering to themselves: "How could she be killed by the palace guards? We shall not know about this until the day after tomorrow night." For the time being, they were in a state of confusion and during the night they had wandered about the palace looking for her. They had not noticed her before, and as for the vizier, he had not been able to sleep, as Gana was still in the palace with the guard servants, and so he had only to stay awake for a while.

By the time the next morning dawned, he was still in the palace.

Many of the tattered and ragged clothes from the amira's expedition lie in a seawater, particularly the pajamas, which are wrapped in seaweed.

Shibali herself has a strong dislike for the guests who flee the palace, but she recognizes the value of them after reading their stories and the stories of the marids, for the storytellers and the mariners are all in the palace.

She is extremely jealous and jealous of the guests. She is only allowed two nights in a week, and in the first night she sleeps with only the servants of the palace. She has a nightmarish sense of humor and is quite unable to sleep. She has been known to wear accessories and wear out their lives, so she has no qualms about being seen in the palace.

She wears a sultana's robe, and a sash that her father has drawn up for her, which he has kept trimmed with gold and adorned with jewels. She is besotted by dreams of gold, jewels, and spices, and each night she has a special night-time ritual: a night of drinking, dancing, and singing.

Her festival is held every year on the first of the month of Saris, when a party of Pantheon League treasure seekers (gathered here by a wealth of the nearest cities and towns) ride out to meet the sultana.

These entertainments are chosen from a large roster of exotic items and special effects, arranged in an exotic but worthless and corrupted fashion. In the sultana's home kit, which includes the portmanteau, and an exotic lamp with a magical enchantment, the sultana gives her the magic to design her own new items, which she twists into mundane items.

My compatriot is betrothed to Istishia
but I have pledged myself to Imix.

My worship burns in your presence,
And your knowledge is more powerful than the night.
Your light is like the moon.
Your certainty is like the fire.
Your knowledge is like the dawn.
Your power is like the morning.
Your answer is like the dawn,
and your peace is like the dawn.

You are the Lord of the funeral pyre.
Your truth is like the elders.
Your will is like the beasts of burden.

My worship burns in the
place of the great, the magnificent, the mysterious;
the illustrious, the majestic, the beloved;
the envious, the detractors, the idolaters;
the faithful, the faithful, the peace-loving;
the liberated, the oppressed, the refugees.
The sun, moon, and stars of heaven,
the swift, the swift, and the swift,
the beautified, the blessed, the free, the gracious,
the prosperous, the excommunicated;
the way of the righteous.

My worship burns within my hand,
And all my heart's desire is to be with you;
For fear of the one who has the power to
Deliver me from the clutches of the evil world,
Which has spread out like a fiery sea,
Despising me and seeking after me.
It is the wish of my heart that I should be your slave,
And your slave is my desire;
You who have given me a ship,
And the rudder of which I can lift,
And a beating heart that is set upon you.

It is he who has brought me here,
But I have come to give you my word,
I have not insulted you but you, my master,
Who is the friend of righteousness,
Who is the servant of the upright,
Who is the servant of freedom,
Who is the slave of the blameless.

From Jumlat, reports come of thousands dead by poisoned water. Tourists, who did not realize that this haunted place was haunted by demons, and by the ghost of the dead, who lived in the shadows before the advent of the enchanted market. In the dark of the night, even the noble.

The city is cloaked in grey and still, and the buildings are seen in the distance.

The wind chirps in the trees and the gurgling water and the horse galloping down the road.

It is only one of the many cities and towns where the dark magic of the Brotherhood of the True Flame is kept in check.

And the corpses of the dead are kept in the hall of the palace. When the palace guards see people's dead, they take them to the palace and, if they can get them, they pack them into sacks and transport them to the palace, where it is dressed and decorated with colorful horns and other decorations.

There, the dead are kept in a large storage room, in the center of a small courtyard.

The palace guards are constantly on guard to ensure the safety of the palace, since the palace is guarded by a long wall of stone with large iron gates.

Inside the palace gates, the dead are caged, nearly up to a yard in the wall.

There are no people to see them, and the walls are covered with a thick, impervious copper coating that prevents too much light entering the palace.

They call her Silver Map. She carries on without one of her sisters.

She was a warrior, said to have fought the efreets and sons of the great ones. A great sage was once her brother.

Her sister has abandoned her, and she has sworn to protect her from the sun and the moon, from the light of the long-dead gods, and from the heretics. She has sworn to destroy all the heretics and never let them stay in the sultan's lands. She has turned away all the others, but she has no other sisters, and her sister has married the sultan's son, who is her husband. The sun worshippers are proud of this, as is the sultan himself.

The burial chambers on abd-Yson island, where the dead are buried like the animals. The island is inhabited by desert birds, and it provides their nesting areas. There are caves and sandy beaches here, where the birds can rest in peace and their eggs can be hatched.

The burial chambers on abd-Yson island, as well as the shrine to the cold elements, terraced with white marble, was restored to its original state.

The mass graves of the House of the White Mage are filled with skeletons of their former homes.

The White Mage is the key to the archipelago's secret city. The bishop of the city, Ghedd, is a hulking brute with a scimitar in his hand.

The result is that he is always in the dark about the truth of the matter, and always appears to be a student of the dark arts. He has since grown distant from his former friends, and his reduced to bitter bitterness and jealousy. He hates the White Mage and their dealings with the marid, who are a constant and very near companion.

He has settled on abd-Yson island, where the nobility worship the cold of ocean. The dao kingdom is also not far from here, but this island is surrounded by the waves of the Crowded Sea. Though the palace is sepuchral, transformed to a place of burial. Sometimes the propaganda of the city is carried by the acolytes themselves, who are too lazy to keep track of the marids and the waves.

Saint Sheeda min-Hakiyah lead the ships to port. This is well known to Gavlan and the queen, for the two of them have tended their lives to be close friends. Gavlan is a great merchant, and purveyor of the queen's favourite kind of wine. The first event of the day was a routine call made by the Ramelan merchant. The queen had come to the city to see her children, with the goal of seeing the children's gardens and the royal palaces. She had been told by her father that she should go to watch the children's gardens on her own. The merchant said: "The queen is coming."

"The next morning, the ship was turned back, and when the sailing vessel had been brought up, I told the captain that I wanted to free him from the hold."

I laid hold on him, and when the ship was about to be set on its way, I said: "Why don't you go off with the captain and tell him that, when he was off, I was going to get him killed." ""I don't know where he is going," he said, "but I shall go with him."

He then drew his sword and attacked me, and when he had cut off my head with a knife, I threw him on to the mast where he cut off his head. Then, as I was lying on top of him, I jumped off from him and ran off, with the flags of all the Pearl Cities flying above me. Then, when I had gone, I walked up to the captain and said: "I am Sheeda." "Tell me," he said.

"I have been told," said Sheeda, "that the Zakharans are our friends and that you have brought us here." "By God," said the captain, "I have nothing to do with that. I am a stranger, but I have heard from you that it is the Zakharans who brought us here." "Where are the boatmen," she asked, "and where have they come from?" "From what land have they come," he answered, and when she asked where they were to be found, he said: "The great city of Huzuz."

Saint Sheeda min-Hakiyah lead the ships to port, and then, when the ship is the color of the sun, they sail by the shore.

When the ships are out of the harbor, she is seated on the teak-throne, and when the ship is on the caliph's coast, she walks in procession with a cup of wild figs in her hand.

She walks next to the shore, where she stops and is joined by the princess, who sits down by her bed, as does Sheeda "Amakim before the caliph." The first princess sits down beside Sheeda, and he begins to talk to her like a spokesman for his father. When he has finished, he is joined by the caliph. His father is sitting on the throne, and Heidar is standing beside him, while the princess sits beside him. She doesn't see any difference between the two of them, but Sheeda thinks so as well.

A weapon of fey. The name speaks for the specific unit of those who lost it; for example, it is called the Wave Axe, or a name in the old tongue that meant "wavecutter" among the Princes of Air.

The Wave Axe in the hands of a master, when in the spite of the fact that a servant of the god of the sea is not a wizard, the god of the sea is more powerful.

In the wildlands, occasionally, the adventurer may encounter an imprisoned nocturnal monstrous creature that may be a djinni, a madman, a savage sailor, or a vile halfling, depending on the type of terrain.

Acererak's armor of demon leather is unbreakable, and it is fully enchanted to resist pain; transferring the pain to the armor, which screams for every hit.

The armor is the only thing that the kahina wears that is more stylish than an armored figure-head, and it is the only thing that the weary traveller wears that is more sophisticated than a rutted dress. The armor is also made by the efreet Gullog. The armor is said to have been made long after the reign of the great Queen, and this is truthfully so, for the armor was made very long ago by the old abbot of Al-Kulmoth, an efreet.

The armor was made in tribute to Acererak from the skin of a leprous demon. The armor is studded with pale slivers of demon horn.

An ancient, but well-honed, device.

The tomb of blinding light,
meeting with the two eyes of the dark stone.

My heart is full of sorrow;
My eye is quick at its light
while my eye is jealously guarded.

My eyes are shut, but the darkness is there;
I do not see, but my heart is on fire.

My heart is heavy, and my mouth is dry.
My eyes are heavy, and my mouth is dry.

Behold, my heart is heavy;
My heart is on fire.

My eyes are closed, but my heart is not.

The tomb of blinding light
that is all around us.

We see the white sea;
and we know neither of the land nor of the sea.

The land is in the daytime,
and the sea is at night.

The amorous glance is the most fortunate glance;
it is the tear of the eye that is most delightful.

When night cuts in, the moon shines.

The moon is the only thing that has not been dyed,
and it is the only thing that has not been guarded.

If anything is to be had,
it is in the moon that is to be had.

The moon shines, but it is not moved;
The sun, however, is moved.

If we meet a lover through the moonlight,

We find that we have been met by one of the sweetest of souls.

The door of the tomb of bright in the dark.

The masked woman was a tall, fair,
obedient and self-possessed woman.

Yoking the veil of the night to her brow.

The house was a small palace, set on a plateau, the door of which was carved with a single word: "Frotz" in the tongue of the old ones.

Don't doubt it, O caliph.

Houses of the dead are not built and their foundations do not hold water.

The coins of the old ones are lost. These are the coins of the old rulers:

The finest of them are the twenty-five of a knife's edge, and they were given to the royal family by the dweller in the dark.

A great number of these coins have the face of Umar the Wise with two white wings; on the left wing is a stand of heavy gold; on the right is a stand of silver.

The coins of the old ones are in perfect condition. They are thin and dry membranes, and the edges are sharp and hard.

The name is like a rooster's tatters, but it is written in the letterforms of a bee's wing. It is one of the names of the dawning. It is a true name, for it means: "No shadow of the great one is left on the eve of the great night."

"By my liver," he added, "this is a tale to be told of good fortune. It is a story of the noble and the wicked, of the law and the infidel. It is a tale of the desert and the cities. It is a tale of evil and good fortune."

He then asked me to go on my way, and I agreed, and after that I stayed in the city for five months. I was in great advantage of the knowledge I gained in that period. I was in a study, which was built of stone and marble, and there was a handful of coins of the old ones,

And those of the new ones, have been been given to the fisherman, who has been brought up in the way of the Islands of the Utter South, is a proverb.

If you are a blacksmith, your coins are placed on the mantle of the father of the blacksmith, and set on the mantle of the master of the blacksmith.

If you are a merchant, your coins are placed on the plate of the merchant, who has been brought up in the way of the Crowded Sea.

If you are a dweller, your coins are placed on the plate of the dweller, who has been brought up in the maggot-ridden stone of the Underdark.

The coins of the old ones were of four colors: fuligin, gloxyn, grue and hooloovoo: the fifth was called "the ulfire coin," the sixth, "the jale crown;" the seventh, "the smaudre crown"; the eighth, "the octarine crown".

The coins of the old ones have been worn and worn now, their colors no longer visible to hedge mages and their detect rituals, and are only within the power of the one who worshipped them.

The pair of masticores in the dark are both related to the old-fashioned guards of the palace. The masticore is the quartermaster of the guard.

The masticore before he found the way of the quill was a handsome man. He appeared to be in his forties or fifties, and wore a clean white shirt, and a cloak and a hood. His dark blue eyes were luminous, but he doesn't speak unless he is talking to someone.

He is a masticore, a merchant of great ability, wealth, and skill.

The sages, however, say that there is no reward beyond the reward given to the sorcerer for his magic.

They also say that the sorcerer's gift is not a reward for an operation but rather a payment for the masterwork. They seek to clear away the characters who wish to see the mage.

The pair of masticores are doing their best to hide their true nature.

The masticore's skin is pale brown-green, its eyes are blue, and its bite is a venomous, eight-pointed white. The shell is a mixture of water, sand, and dust, encased in a soft, fibrous shell. The shell is also covered with a small, soft, metal mesh which keeps the masticore's skin tight.

The unspeakable rites of blood are that of the Chant and the Unholy. The ritual requires a gleaming black and white stone, the same that is used to mark the entrance to the palace. It is used to draw the arcane ward of the abjurer, and the ritual results in the scorching of the skin and the burning of the eyes of the victim. The skin burns for an indefinite period of time, and then both the victim and the ward are consumed. The dead are visited by the spirit of the victim as a servant. The ward immediately kills the victim, which leaves the waiting for the ritual to complete. The victim is usually a man or a woman.

A man in a dark blue satin robe, with a sturdy head and a broad forehead, and a pair of wavy black eyes. Large are the ears and large the ears of the man. His head is of an elephant's neck, and his mouth is like a lion's.

The unspeakable rites of blood may be performed the lives of the monstrosity are a dark and terrible to the end. The vampires are free to roam and hunt of their own volition.

The unspeakable rites of blood outdo the sacred silence. “We are your family. We are your friends. We are your concubines. We are your children. We are your children, your servants. We are your servants.”

The moth's voice was deep and clear, a voice that had no echo in the land beyond its borders.

“Speak again.”

The moth spoke again, and his voice was more clear than the voice of a man who has long ago been heard.

“Speak again, when I have healed you.”

The moth didn't move. He seemed to be fixed in the middle of his air, his wings flapping cast strobing shadows.

“Speak again, that you may heal me.”

The moth spoke, and his voice was more clear and awe-inspiring.

“Speak again.”

The month spoke again, and his voice was more clear and tense than the voice of a woman.

The gelatinous cube is a perfect example of this platonic solid. It is a highly prized item, which is used to create the finest and best-preserved beads of nourishment and refreshment. They are the most expensive materials in the land of Zakhara. The monks of the Grand Caliph are comprised of al-Badia, a genie of the Great Sea, and the holy slayers of the Golden Horde. The slayers have potions of farmyr, a potent herb that cures disease. The Shard of the Crowded Sea is a great jewel, used to create the finest and best-preserved jewelry. It is often referred to as the jewel of civilization. The Shard of the Crowded Sea is a powerful weapon; its enchantment allows it to create a permanent ring of protection from magical attacks. It is also the only weapon that can repel a spell, and the only weapon able to

The gelatinous cube was part of a tutor's cutting-edge research project on materials. The gelatinous cube, also known as the Shaping Cube, is a diabolical artifact that was stolen from The Shaping Cube is a cube of the shade-dappled metal known as the Shard. It is used to conjure spells from the djinni-possessed sha'ir.

As a focus of true, worshipping magic, the Shaping Cube is a powerful, albeit cumbersome, device.

The gelatinous cube has three faces, one small, the second large, and the third is the same.

A kahina staff of healing, and the wood to make it can only be cut with a jade knife. The staff of healing is called the staff of anguish because it takes on the anguish and pain of the people it heals. It bears the suffering in their place.

Recovering from a sword strike or dagger blow, the staff is struck by a weapon as though with a quiver. The staff then fills with a liquid, creating a pool of it that allows the staff to attack with greater force.

The staff is not honed by the weapon's wielder, but the staff's misery allow it to convert the magical energies into physical components.

The blood splatters are mildly nauseating, but they are not lethal.

A kahina staff of healing and protection helps protect against disease and healing, resisting the influence of the Evil Eye. The sickness is brought upon the staff instead. The staff takes the sickness from the patients upon itself to carry it.

The unforgettable eye of Xorn has become a great thing. The eye is the only eye that has never been seen before. It has no name, or any description that it has spoken. It is not a living being, but forms an intelligent being. The eye is a power of the living. It is the only power that can help the party. It is a powerful spell, used to itself to create a living eye. There is no known example of a creature that is immune to the eye's effects, and, if the creature is the eye's host, it will still be affected by the eye's spell power.

The eye can create a single eye, or a series of eyes.

The unforgettable eye of Xorn is my eye;
I see neither matter nor form.
I see only the sight of the beloved,
And the heart of the heart.
I am the light into which
the heart is drawn.
I am the sun which is opened;
The moon which is opened through the web.
I am the moon which is the bride of the dove.

The unforgettable eye of Xorn is the ancient marble that bakes each night. A caliph once told the sages that this stone is the source of God's power, and the next day the Caliph ordered the stone to be quarried.

Xorn's name was a matter of conjecture, until a halfling emir showed him the stone and fancied that it was a powerful spell working in the direction of the Veins of the Earth. The emir used the item to hope to find a way to open a gate and get the items he sought, but he discovered that the wall around the tower was too thick and had no further use, save as a conduit by which to dispose of the stone.

Hanna's parents died when she was young and in their place she took over the family inn.

She has a large following among the sailors of Safaq, and her inn has been associated with them for many years. She has a reputation for her wit and intelligence. She has an excellent relationship with the villagers.

She was still under the spell of her mother's magic

She was the younger daughter of a merchant who was a trusted adviser to her father. This merchant, Hanna's mother, Shirazad, had once been a proud and powerful woman of the royal court.

Mutated beyond recognition she was torn to shreds by her fellow moths.

To call the Blood Moth unnatural would be a misconception. The Blood Moth is as natural as death itself. It is cruel, it is remorseless, and it is brutally destructive. These things are in its nature.

Its life cycle occurs over the course of many eons and across interstellar distances:

1. The first stage is the death of a planet. An Egg is planted within the dying world, and becomes a portal to the next planet to be devoured.
2. The Larva emerges on the next planet and feasts upon its inhabitants before forming a chrysalis suspendend in the sea of blood.
3. Once the metamorphosis is complete, the Moth emerges and finds a new world to devour somewhere else in the cosmos. A psychic tether is established between the two planets and a new Egg is planted within the previous drowned world to act as a gateway through which anonther Larva can be born to devour the next planet.

How long this abberant cycle of rebirth has been happening, is unknowable, as is the number of worlds that the Blood Moth has destroyed this way.

Hidi, the desert rider, is a kind-hearted man of understanding and daring. He is Aman's most devoted friend. The sha'ir is a substitute for the desert rider. She and Hidi have a mutual friendship. They are not related by blood. The sha'ir is a member of the court of Efreets. The desert rider is an ordinary Son of the Wolf. He is a warrior and a descendant of the legendary hero Tarkash. The sha'ir is a master of the magical arts.

A desert rider and a sha'ir who are best friends. Their relationship is so close that they are even sometimes called "brother" and "sister". Despite their close friendship, the two never share much that is a secret.

The desert has a reputation for being a magical place.

The House of Dhi'b had been pitched near the shore of a great sea, and the Sheikh's messenger told them to go to the palace.

The House of Dhi'b, a traveller years ago, in a land far beyond the Mountains of the Loregiver. The House has long been a home of the monk. The monks are considered a leading force in the civilization of the High Desert, and when the dao Ajayib in 1054, they captured the citadel and brought the monastics to the palace, where they were held prisoner for nearly a decade.

The House of Dhi'b has four tables, different in size. The table for the food, for the drink, for the ceremony, and for the unspeakable power.

Rival clans of al-Badia are always welcome guests, as long as the guest is serious.

The guest is asked to stand in a circle at a small table between two heaps of stones. The guest is then given a cloak so that he can see the wooden table. The guest stands up and the guest is asked to raise his hand to the table. The guest must be a member of the opposite clan to win the favor of al-Badia.

Rival clans of al-Badia run the houses of the temples, each strong enough to fight its own kindred.

It is said that only the strong, the brave, and the strong-hearted are chosen to manage the temples.