Girls of Talislanta: Far Isles

Eerduz and I had taken a perilous journey to the far land of Faradun in an attempt to bring to the pages of the Feast of Ardan an infusion of exotic beauties. We were successful beyond our wildest imaginations, as you will soon see.

We had sailed to the port city of Tarun with a Zandir merchant ship, and had a few days to find some models before they set sail again. I began scouting out various taverns and inns. It was while in a shabby bar near the docks themselves that I first encountered Mangzariel. In fact, she saved my life.

I was in the Green Kra, drinking a bit of the local grog, and was more than a bit intoxicated, when a group of Mangar pirates entered and began ordering the staff around. I had grown fond of these folk who had been kind enough to continue to fill my mug (when I have overindulged in drink, I ofttimes consider the employees like family) and could not sit by while these brutes accosted them.

I strode over to their table, if striding can be defined as drunken weaving, a spell coming to the forefront of my mind. I would teach these brutes some courtesy!

While still several tables away, I was grabbed by the arm and dragged down into a chair. When the Green Kra stopped spinning, I glared at the person who dared to stop me on my noble quest, but my glare instantly melted. Sitting next to me was a beauty of dark skin and shaven head. Her tight, sleeveless blouse barely contained her bosom. Normally my eyes would have lingered there long, but they instead were drawn to the tattoo of a green serpent that wound around her left arm. By the Ten Thousand, she was a Mangar!

She called me a fool (using Sign, since I have very little skill in the Sea Nomad tongue) for even thinking about starting trouble with her captain, and that she had saved me from a painful death. I ordered her a drink in gratitude. I told her I had a proposition for her, one that could earn her some coin. She assured me she was not a whore, and punctuated her claim by placing the blade of a curved dagger under my chin. I quickly assured her that was not my intention, though some degree of undress would be required. The blade pressed against my skin drawing a trickle of blood. Curse Sign for not have a gesture that means “gentleman’s publication!”

Eventually, she understood my intentions, the dagger was removed, and our negotiations began. I later learned that our standard wage was more than she would be likely to see in a season. In fact, with what we were paying her, she would finally have enough for her own ship. It seems she and her sister had been ferraning away funds for their own corsair ship. They wanted to branch off on their own and terrorize the seas with their own crew. A noble endeavor, and to think that the Feast or Ardan could be of assistance! Best of luck Mangzariel. May the winds be at your back.

The Silver Pentacle limped it's way to the floating city of Cabal Magicus after our nearly fatal run-in with a sea dragon. I for one was happy to be on relatively stable ground. I was discovering that travel by windship did not agree with me, but the captain assured me I would get my "air legs" eventually.

Cabal Magicus. Once upon a time I imagine it was a splendid city. It still is a marvel to behold, floating high above the Isle of Phantas, the chains of adamant that connect it to the isle glistening in the moons light. But now it seems sad; run down. The streets and causeways are quiet and devoid of activity.

Our host, one Maldarune, upon learning of Eerduz and my mission, suggested we visit the Lady Laastrial. She had, or so he claimed, ran a pleasure dome, though he had regrettably never been there. She was very particular about those she let in, and apparently, he do not meet her standards.

Armed with the finest bottle of aquavit that I was willing to part with, my comrade and I found ourselves at the gates of the pleasure dome. I must say that it was much more stately than most of Cabal Magicus. We were met by Laastrial herself. Much to our surprise, she was expecting us. In fact, she knew of us! Somehow, several early copies of The Feast of Ardan had come into her possession.

There was a lot of drinking, carousing with her lovely friends, and eventually imbibing of dream essences. I must tell you, mixing the purple and sliver produced some of the most interesting dreams I have ever had. Eeruduz quaffed several of the rainbow hued. The next morning he had a very thoughtful expression, but when pressed, would not comment on the contents of his nocturnal phantasma.

--Fahfion

I first laid eyes on Thisia watching a performance she and her troupe were giving at Risque. I had just lost a large pile of pentacles in a game of Quatrillion, and was feeling down, when I heard upbeat, exotic music coming from the performance hall.

A dozen violet skinned forms, danced, contorted and writhed to the melody, and I was mesmerized. My melancholy was instantly gone. After the performance, I spoke to the troupe, praising their skill. One of their number, Thisia, caught my eye, and agreed to join me for a drink.

There are those that find the vizard masks that the Thiasians wear to be disconcerting, but I find them mysterious and exotic -- erotic even. She specializes in contortions and proceeded to show me a series of poses. I knew instantly that she needed to grace the pages of the Feast.

As an aside, the quaal in the picture is my very own pet, Kest. He took an immediate liking to the lithe acrobat. Who wouldn't?

-- Fahfion