You've all drunk deep of date rum and are deeply drunk. Chanting obscene ballads of the caravaneers, you swagger/stumble along the cobbles, occasionally gripping a pomegranate tree for support. It's mid afternoon and hot and sunny. Passersby stare at you with expressions of scorn, amusement, or concern.
In your revelries, you repeatedly heard the latest rumor that has swept through Zul-Bazzir:
Quote:
Daring thieves entered the governor's grand palace last night and stole a very valuable emerald from the bey; a gem which on special occasions sat squarely in the navel of the governor’s favorite concubine, a beautiful girl from Azjan in the East. The two thieves made good their escape. One guard who
almost caught them said the woman had eyes like a cat and could climb walls like one too!
Your progress halts when Jewel literally bumps into one of the governor's guards. Equipped in medium armor and bearing an iron-tipped staff, the woman shoves Jewel roughly backward. "
Hey!" the guard exclaims. "
Watch where you're goin!" Turning her head slightly, without taking her eyes off the group of you, she calls out, "
Sir! We got some likelies here!"