I was manning the offices of The Feast, going over some of Eerduz’s sketches, and reading some letters from subscribers, when a short, round, and cute Bodor women entered. She informed me, in a melodic voice, that she wished to pose for us. She had seen one of our fliers in the Sarista ghetto, and thought it might be fun.
Sila has travelled across the entirety of Talislanta, from Ispasia to the forests of Silvanus, performing with her troupe at all cities in between.
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I had been spending an intoxicating evening at the Lucky Shaitan, attempting to recruit some of the lovelies working there to appearing in the Feast, when a most unusual thing occurred—I was joined by a lovely lady. No, I was not accosted by one of the employees, but by a fellow customer. It was then and there that I first laid eyes upon Sadirah, the Rahastran.
Dressed all in blue, she swept into the chair opposite me.
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Our journeys through the Wilderlands were hard on all of us, seeming at times more a fever dream than a real experience. Danger was on all sides, strange drum-sounds in the night, cries of unidentifiable beasts, the peculiar wail of winds that precedes the dreaded Aberrant Weather…
Like a delicious morsel of fruit hanging from a blasted, burnt tree covered with poisoned thorns, was Ri-Na-Lek, who had heard of our visit by what means we knew not, but who came alone to our camp in the dead of night, awakened me at knife-point, and led me to a secret valley where by moonlight she insisted on posing for me.
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Despite having made a pilgrimage through the Wilderlands, we were not able to spend time in Hadj, the entrance fees proving beyond our means; by the capricious grace of the Ten Thousand we were able to produce this image of H.M.A.H. Hajna-Qualour, an expatriate Hadjin living in Zandu.
H.M.A.H. is, I am given to understand, one of the seven richest people in Zanth, and her great wealth buys her respect even from the Sultan.
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