Sami stared long and hard at Dabbous after his curious statement and had remained silent the entire time. Dabbous was also silent, unsure of what to say, what was one thinking of the other, had Sami in fact been propositioned? Had Dabbous meant to proposition him?
Before either had the chance to continue and break the silence, a lone voice from the cool shade of a darkened door way said, "Sami, are you going to answer the man, or has someone else taken your tongue before I had the chance too?" The outline of the man was hard to make out, it almost seemed like it wavered a little bit. Sami instantly knew who it was, an assassin from the Lotus Cult. In Sami's mind, there were two choices, fight or flight, and the latter was becoming more desirable as the assassin stepped out of the darkness, his black jellaba and matching keffiyeh still unnaturally hazy in the stifling noonday sun.
Momentarily stunned to see his alleyway abode invaded by a murderous revenge seeker, Sami looks helplessly from invader to his barber rescuer. His first thought was that this stranger had somehow betrayed him. Then his street sense settled in and he realized that the barber was just as surprised as he was.
He looked to find some cover, aiding the barber where he could.
But who are these other guys the barber was talking to?
[dice rolls may be problematic for me due to filtering at the office.]
The dark assassin replied not with words, but the brandishing of two jambiya's and then waited, staring down Dabbous. The latter's porters were nowhere to be seen but they were heard running down the alleyway, catching up to help their master. Sami scurried under the flap of his makeshift tent and safety of a dark corner, leaving the Barber by himself momentairly. Laughing, the assassin seized the opportunity and leapt at the barber, both blades seeking the man's heart.
The hazy outline of the man seemed to slowly sail through the air as time slowed for Dabbous. The barber could see the grim outline of the assassin's smile behind his veiled keffiyah as his blades came down upon Dabbous, but at the last moment, it seemed the world upended itself and Dabbous found himself flat on his back, tripped by the leg of Sami himself.
Was Sami in league with the assassin, was Dabbous' first thought, but no, the leg trip had caused the barber to fall backwards making the assassin sail overhead and into the nearest stone wall, smashing his face into it, leaving Dabbous unscathed. Strong hands picked up their master as the porters pulled Dabbous back and formed a red wall of muscle between him and the deadly assassin.
Furiously the assassin springs to his feet, his breath heaving and with a scream of anger he leaps towards the nearest porter with his slashing jambiya. And once again Sami attempts to trip up the assassin and suceeds in catching his heel, but it wasn't enough to stop the assassin from laying open Bashir's belly, sending the man reeling to the ground screaming in agony, "I am struck! The pain, the pain! Fate preserve me! Fear not master! Do not worry about me! Continue to fight! Fight master!"
Laughing once again at the sight of the flailing and bleeding porter, the dark assassin launches another quick attack, but this time he is not so successful. Perhaps it was the constant unseen obstacles he was tripping over, the quick glance down at his feet and seeing Sami's leg impeding him made him snarl. This momentary lapse in attention was enough to get bodychecked by one of the porters into the slashing razor of Dabbous the deadly barber.
Blood ran freely down the bruised and bloodied face of the assassin and anyone who was good at judging charcter could tell the man was deciding between fight or flight.
The assassin had his opening, Dabbous men were out of position and the squirrelly Sami was hiding even deeper under his makeshift tent. However poorly Dabbous and his men were setup, the assassin's attack was even more poorly launched. Perhaps it was a loose rock under his foot, or Fate intervening on behalf of the protesting cutpurse, whatever it was, the Assassin flew past Dabbous and landed flat faced into the far wall.
If it hadn't looked so painful, it wouldn't had been so... comical. Quickly the Assassin, his body outlined in a haze, stood and went into a defensive stance, bloody nose and all.
Before the assassin could react, a stone fell him right between the eyes. As he was reeling, Dabbous ended his life with a quick slash to the throat. Hot blood sprayed across the barber's face and onto his clothing as the assassin slumped to the ground, dead.
Post by Zaim al-Daleel on Apr 9, 2009 11:12:32 GMT -7
"Fortune smiles on the studious," Dabbous said as he examined his friend's wound. Ouch! "Yes, I've seen much worse... hold your hand here... give me your turban. Quickly now, you can always get another, nothing wrong with a bald head..."
Doing his best, Dabbous wrapped the wound and did his best to stop the bleeding.
"There," he said, standing, "now lets make ourselves scarce..." Glancing around nervously he knelt and started searching the body of his attacker. "Young man," Dabbous said while searching, "you may want to gather anything you can live without and make like water in the desert... hard to find that is!"
Dabbous' injured man ceased his wailing after his wounds had been bound, but both knew he needed to rest for a couple of days so his wound would properly heal.
Turning his attention to the dead assassin, the barber's search yielded two jambiya's who's blades were obviously poisoned. This meant that Bashir was more than likely poisoned too and would require more than just time to survive. He would need a Hakima of no smalll water to neutralize the poison flowing through his veins.
The black abba the assassin wore continued to look hazy to the sight, even when grasped by Dabbous. The smell of strong incense wafted from the turban of the assassin as the barber continued this thorough search. Nothing else was suspicious or unusual in nature, neither the keffiyah or the assassin's shoes held any further clues as to who sent the man.
Post by Zaim al-Daleel on Apr 10, 2009 16:50:02 GMT -7
Dabbous talked as he worked at releaving the dead man of his abba. No sense in wasting a perfectly good abba... "I'm headed for the docks. Lots of strangers hang around docks, and I figure to be one of them." Nice turban too... should clean up nice, give it to me friend who just lost his...
"What do you think, young man?" Nasty bit of cutlery there... don't know if I dare handle them. Still... Could you pass for a stranger or are you known far and wide?"
...could help a healer if they could see the poisons... Dabbous took the poisoned blades as well -- with great care.
Handling the jambiya's and noting the wound on Bashir, Dabbous was certain he was affected by the poison, but the barber was not sure what type. He would need a Hakima if the poison was lethal and looking at the assassin, it would likely be so.
Post by Zaim al-Daleel on May 6, 2009 22:44:52 GMT -7
"Forgive me," said Dabbous, hastening to his friend's side. "Let's get you out of this alley... Someone take his other arm and help me get him to the street." Straining under the weight of the large man, Dabbous called out to the boy: "Could you run ahead and find us a Hakima?"
"Master," coughed Bashir, "I see the great sky opening up before me, showering upon me the light of the heavens." His eyes growing wider and a look of fear striking his face, "Master please, do not let me die!"
As Dabbous struggled to move Bashir, no one came to his aid. Everyone that even came close, even by accident, immediately moved away once they had seen what was transpiring. In this city of tens of thousands, Dabbous felt keenly alone.