Common Worlds

Issaries Blessings to guide your Travel!
Issaries Blessings to ply your Trade!

...from my quill to your ears, *Hear* my words! I, Jerrod of the Tolkazzie, Scribe of the True Blooded Zebra-Khan and Pavic Wordsmith of the Lunar Era, tell you the making of my Lord, Oshun the Zebra Khan.

Our quest in the underword continued. Though my body shakes at the new and wondrous denizens of this place, Issaries steadies my hand for the documenting of ages. We have come upon a river, the River of Tears it is named. While I yet feel no desire to wail or weep, I have learned in my travels with my Lord and his allies that names hold power. Their purpose is not for the impressing of the ignorant and easily excited, but to profess a power they contain. The questors showed much confusion as what to do at this point. They had been told the River was an important part to navigate to reach their destination. But how? Enter it? Follow its path? The questors seemed to be once again on the verge of a characteristically long discussion if not for the fact that they continuted to verge closer and closer to the River. I myself felt a pull - one of yearning loss and possible renunion.

I observed the regal Teshnan Garusharp enter the River as if it were just another bath affair I've read the Easterners cherish. I also noticed the Mostali Boomer approach the River like the banal, meticulous, experimentist he was forever doomed to be. How a River of Tears could affect him is beyond my imaginative thinking. The enigmatic sorcerer Rasa stiffly walks to the river. Hopefully his magic will not taint the River. The Earth-Goddess-Avenger (I will not even write her name for fear she may notice me) started towards the River at the same time. I must say I felt remiss for the River at that moment.

My Lord though, was visibly resisting the pull and alternating imploring and commanding his Young Riders and myself to resist. So most of us held back behind our Lord, his command forceful indeed, until one screamed a raiding yell and dismounted and ran for the river. With truth and honesty, I was not surprised that it was Chela Crazy-Mare who had bolted. That Brave is truly unstable at times and it is a wonder my Lord keeps her within his personal guard. My Lord at first acted to grab the Brave, but pulled back as if he was uncertain of what to do. The other braves called to their comrade also but gave up once she entered the River. I cannot tell you what happened to Chela in the River. It appeared she tried to go futher within but was unsuccessful. I do not know the meaning of the River but to my senses I would have said the River of Tears was rejecting her. Chela seemed to falter backwards out of the river at the same time my Lord started forward towards her. I would have said he was reaching out to her to assist, but he seemed to be struggling to move, say as a choupa-fish struggles to swim upstream. When he reached Chela (or maybe more appropriate when she reached him) an invisible burden was lifted from her as she no longer faltered, but immediatedly turned into the agile brave she was and run back to the company of the Young Riders safe and sound, albeit with an exhausted demeanor. I looked back to find my Lord on his knees with his head in his hands. He was as close to the River of Tears as one could be without touching it. I could not hear a sound from him as I was too far away and the sound of the River was strong, but his body signs pointed towards one arguing with someone. His fists punched the air constantly and his head often shook violently in the negative. After awhile his body went limp and as rare a scene as I can remember, the future Zebra-Khan looked defeated.

My Lord finally stood up and seemed to bear the *burden* of a thousand Khans on his shoulders. His look of determination and indomitability was scarcely notable now; His stature a bit more diminished. When he reached Skimmer he immediately grabbed the Bit of the Bow-Legged Khans with a force to make his black knuckles white. Skimmer butted his head into my Lord's chest. My Lord looked annoyed with his companion and grabbed the Bit of the Bow-Legged Khans again. Skimmer once again butted his head into his rider's chest, this time with more force. It appeared as though Skimmer was staring down my Lord, who in turn was trying to bore right through Skimmer with his own willful gaze. My Lord finally shook a hand at Skimmer and punched him in the shoulder hard. Lest you who *hears* my words think of me as maniacal when I say I know Skimmer laughed after My Lord punched him, I ask you refer to the Quest for the Three Zebra Wives where I personally witnessed Skimmer talking to my Lord. Hopefully this will abate any diminishing opinion of my sanity.

My Lord looked a bit more returned to his normal self, though not quite fully. He leapt onto Skimmer and then turned to me and said "Young Tolkazzie Master, it appears I have recruited an advisor. Since I shed no tears at those lost, I take counsel in return." I thought that was the end of his addressing me as my Lord was never one to ramble. But as he turned away, he quickly stopped, and turned right back to look at me. "I know of Issaries and the followers of the Golden Home as much as any Zebra rider would, if not more. But I wonder, do you Travelers and Traders ever aspire to positions of power?" I was momentarily confused by my Lord's question but understanding somewhat the politics of Zebra tribes, answered efficiently "We have Rune Lords and Priests as such other Theists have my Lord. But such as you infer, no my Lord. The Wanderlust is ever eternal and it is strong". My Lord sighed the sigh of a hundred Khans it seeemed, and only replied to me with a warm smile that soon faded.

I learned in the time to come that a Zebra brave spirit had become my Lord's counsel. One he knew well. In spouts of rage, confusion, and even sadness sometimes, I often heard him speak the name Bittermouth.