Thayan Empire: House Albayati

[DOT]

"Glory to Thay. Hail Typhon." -Sir Ahmed

BLACK
Psychologically black means authority, power and control.
In many situations it can be intimidating, unfriendly and unapproachable.
Alternatively, it can be seen as sophisticated, dignified and serious.

It is intimidating and controlling, although its power can instill confidence in some.
Black creates an air of mystery and secrecy.
Sometimes people hide behind its unapproachable facade.
In very small amounts it can add strength and confidence without becoming overpowering.


GOLD
It is seen as the color of inner wisdom, quality and wealth.
It is associated with prestige, luxury and material wealth, suggesting that a product or service is expensive and exclusive.

Physiologically, it can induce great feelings of happiness and bliss or alternatively, deep anxiety and fear.
It implies generosity of time, money and spirit.
It is the color of victory.


[]~~~~~~~~~~~~~[]


These are the colors of the Thayan Knight.
Wear them with pride.

These are the colors of Typhon.
Be humbled by them.

They are your history.
They are your core.
They are your future.

OOC: Ahmed's original soundtrack theme, adds more depth to his character I feel.

[DOT]

THE OBSIDIAN ORDER

(In Game Bio)

A solid and heavy armor is before you. It looks similar to the deep black polish of obsidian;

the large plates are smooth save for small razor edges at the joints. A serpentine theme is carried through it.

Helmless: Magical tattoos adorn his head, surrounding a jackal's face...

 the mark of Typhon at the center of his forehead.

His beastly voice is deep, and his words are few.

 By his mannerisms, one might believe him to be intelligent, wise, and charismatic...

someone sane, practical and very patient.

[DOT]

UNDER THE NIGHT

A formal military document passes hands at the Thayan Embassy of the Enclave at Proskur.

It reads as follows:

Thayan Knight: 2nd Tour, Cormyr

Name: Albayati, Ahmed
Rank: Corporal
Legion: The Obsidian Order (7th Legion)

Corporal Albayati, is hereby transferred to the Enclave at Proskur.
He will serve well in "fostering good relations" with the Crown of Cormyr as we continue to strive for "better trade agreements" with foreign nationals.

~the document goes in excess verbiage and such~

[DOT]

AN AFFIRMING FLAME

It was well into the night.

In a small 2nd floor room overlooking the square at the Enclave of Proskur,
solid figure reclined in a chair as he looked down onto the courtyard.

He watched the hustle and bustle of mercantilism, alone with his thoughts.
Not much has changed since I was last here. Still the same routes, still the same people.

News of political involvement of one of Thay's factions did reach me no more than tenday ago.
Seems the Banites are at it again.

He sighs and stands up, grabbing a book from the shelf to look over security reports from the night before.

One does not an empire make when its dogs are foaming at the mouths.
Subtlety and patience are key.
Tact is required to earn trust, and once that trust is earned...

He smiles some to himself, arranging his gear for the day before heading to the shrine of Set to tithe.

Perhaps the tombs and crypts of Cormyr will provide me with some necessary... disposable income.

Now fully armored, he ritualistically lowers the helm upon his head...
chanting a soldier's mantra that was drilled into his mind.

[DOT]

THE RECONSECRATION

The evening was most... eventful.

I had managed to obtain permission to take The Living Doll outside the enclave.

All tests went smoothly. Orders were followed to the letter.

She even threw herself upon a trap to prevent me harm.

By Typhon's divine providence, we formed party with Isidorus of Mulhorand.

The crypt of Gaunt was ripe for the taking, and we proceeded

to loot and defile it to our heart's content.

At an appropriate place deep in the crypt's bowels, we performed His most favored ceremony...

The Rite of Reconsecration. At the choice location, we dedicated a tomb and enshrined it to His name.

Any other details, are best kept in mind.

[DOT]

EVERYONE ENJOYS A PROPER STONING

It would seem, things have picked up right where they were left.

I had participated in a muster for the Gaunt Volunteers...

how curious the dissent in their ranks are, and what a boon it is

to have something to test.

The mission provided, involved the hunting of cockatrice, and their stone gaze was...

entertaining.

Needless to say, someone did become stone during the heat of battle, an elf I believe.

Things were halted, but eventually the group moved on... leaving the woman unattended.

I recall, at the beginning of the muster, Callen warned us of an assassin,

a Cyrist woman garbed in dark cloth.

In retrospect, it would have been easy to destroy that unprotected stone elf,

and plant a symbol of Cyric. Things always seem better in hindsight.

Ah well, anything to weaken power bases.

After some time collecting the necessary tools and items in the Enclave,

Ahmed sat quietly, and patiently carved several symbols of Cyric into stone.

Puppetry is a masterful skill to hone. This mad Cyric will become

quite useful to me, though we shall likely never meet.

[DOT]

THE CHIEFTAIN TASK: Bramble Gnolls

A task was ordered to be completed by the powers that be.

There was rumored a tribe of gnolls not far from the border within Cormyr.

It was required that the chieftain be captured alive,

and brought to the Enclave at Proskur.

Given the current state of affairs with Cormyr, a contingent of

Thayan Knights operating within

the Bramble Wood was out of the question.

Therefore, locals mercenaries were deemed necessary for the mission.

Khalidor the man, Mystogen the elf and his elf companion,

 Rausk the dwarf, and Rogis of the Clan Greybeard.

The task was completed efficiently and with professionalism for the most part.

Payment was rendered.

The Enclave now has the chieftain of the local gnoll tribe,

what the Lords plan to do with him is beyond my station.

Though rumor has it, the capture of other

chieftains are currently in progress.

[DOT]

THE CHIEFTAIN TASK: Gaunt Orcs

Another mission was given out by the powers that be.
Upon discovery of a cave system near the town of

Greatgaunt, encounters with an orc tribe soon followed.

Per orders, the chieftain was to be captured alive and

brought to the Enclave under darkness for... "conditioning".

Due to the close vicinity of the caves to the town,

a smaller extraction team was required.

Enter the Setites, Ahmed of Thay and Isidorus of Mulhorand.

The task was completed quickly and uneventfully,

and the conditioning process has been completed.

Both the orc and the gnoll chieftain,

have been released back into their respective

tribes for reasons unknown.

[DOT]

THE CHIEFTAIN TASK: Bramblewood Bugbears


The final mission. As with all things we sat with CENSORED

and went over the evening's mission.

It was to be a party of four and as we discussed locations,

vicinities, and other information...

the plan formulated well into something perfect and cohesive,

and all the cracks were filled.

If we are anything, then we are efficient, intelligent, and put

our shoulder to the grindstone as we demand

nothing less than success.

Sharn, Viktor, Isidorus, and myself.

The night was a complete success. The bugbear chieftain captured,

and a new path to the Enclave was found.

Glory to Thay, with Cormyr none the wiser.

[DOT]

THE FROZEN THRONE: King of the Ice Giants

A walk in winter.

A raven, a dwarf, an elf. The guides.

A flurry of light, softly below.

Alexial. Mathias. For the State we love and know.

Vladimir. William. Two by two in the snow.

Ahmed. Isidorus. By the power of the gods.

To the Storm Horns we go.

...

A battle impossible. Won.

The King is dead. Long live the King.

[DOT]

Duty of a Corporal

The undulating mass that composes the Volunteers of Greatgaunt...

is a task to test organization, control, communication, and discipline skills.

As of this writing, I hold the position of Corporal, and my methods are effective.

They must be effective.

Ahmed walked the length of the Greatgaunt barracks, familiar now with its occupants.

He would take an ink jar and quill from his pack,

sitting at the table that held but a single load of bread.

With care, he began to pen the following notice:

Apr 3, 2015 16:56:56 GMT -5 DOT said:

Officer Promotion & Management

by Corporal Ahmed Albayati

ATT: Volunteer Privates


        Motivated and effective Officers are an absolute must for any successful group. Whether that group is a trade consortium, muster group, a religiously affiliated group... it matters not. That Officer promotions are important decisions, goes without saying. The pool of Privates in the Volunteers is incredibly large and diverse. Selection and promotion to Corporal, and perhaps Sergeant is a task not taken lightly. Be assured of the following:

-only those that have proven themselves to be trustworthy are promoted

-favoritism due to relations outside the Volunteers plays no part, as this can cause conflict and fracture the group

-diversity of the Officer corps within the Volunteers is one of its greatest strengths (ex. Sergeant Trence of Tyr and myself can be considered dynamic opposites, the key being we are both able to work with one another in a professional manner)

-promotion is based on the need to carry out tasks of running the Volunteers effectively, no more and no less

-consideration for promotion is never rushed, many Privates want to be Officers, though in truth few want to be "good" officers; to exert leadership during difficult situations or to accomplish tasks that need to be done without being prompted


I would urge you to consider these traits, be mindful of their benefit and their detriment to a force such as the Volunteers of Greatgaunt.


-Trustworthy: steadfast, reliable, confidential, discreet VS. too personal, too involved in everything, micromanager

-Empathetic: able to see any situation from the perspective of another VS. too tolerant in justifying inappropriate and unprofessional behavior

-Confident: bold, able to carve out a path of action VS. overconfident, blind to mistakes and learning from errors in judgement

-Forceful: knowing when necessary to kick Privates in the hindquarters VS. can easily cross the line into anger, lacking in effective control

-Diplomatic: able to resolve disputes and forge agreements VS. can be adverse to taking decisive action, susceptible to being exploited

-Knowledgeable: a firm grasp of the world and its nuances VS. know-it-all, arrogant, patronizing, impatient

-Mathematical: inclined in optimizing and facilitation of efficiency VS. unable to base a decision on the intangible and incalculable


There are many variables to consider Privates, in a promotion as well as your own futures.

The key lesson to take away from this is that a proper Officer, fosters the growth of other potential leaders, effectively leading by guidance.


Be patient. Be willing. Be prepared.


*signed*

Corporal Ahmed Albayati
Greatgaunt Volunteers
Thayan Enclave at Marsember




//ooc: big ups to Scott Andrews's 'The Guild Leader's Handbook, fantastic read!

[DOT]

FEAR



I am afraid of the Dark
I am nervous at Night
I am afraid of the Day
I cannot stand the Light
I am afraid one day Someone
Will come to take me Away
I am too scared to Leave
I am doomed if I Stay


The tent was simple enough.
The Thayan touch came by way of an expensive imported rug from Amn, a Marsembian style desk with curves and coiled legs,
and a lantern giving a faint glow to the various architectural sketches and invoices.

Ahmed tried to slow his breathing, thinking back to the rhyme taught to Thayan children to strengthen them in the face of adversity.
Discipline is best built from a young age.

He often spoke the rhyme before praying to Typhon. A necessity. Simply put, Typhon is evil.
He is  not the evil of Bane by way of Tyranny.
He is not the evil of Cyric by way of Madness.
He is not the evil of Shar by way of Entropy.

Typhon -is- Evil. The source in its purest form, long before the dawn he was known as Set.
When one spoke to him, it was responded immediately with a cold enveloping darkness. 
Like silk in its movement but frigid to the touch.


But this time… the rhyme did not work, and this had nothing to do with praying to Typhon.
Ahmed's brow twitched as he attempted to control his expression…
the lantern's light playing lightly across his features.

His comrade taken… or perhaps given. Ahmed recalled the site vividly… an unexpected occurrence.
A form crumpled, twisted, toyed with like a doll on a puppet's strings. Horror.

IT was dangerous, something to be feared, something to be cautious around.

His gloved-hand gripped the armrest.


Ahmed would work throughout the night into the early hours of dawn.
He would attempt to control this emotion.

He would fail.


There are few things in this world to truly be feared,
 IT was one of them.

[DOT]

The fire would crackle every so often, its light faintly outlining the edge of the fireplace... a plush couch, expensive drapery, as with most things Thayan, the suite at the Standing Stone Inn was quite decadent.

Rarely out of armor, Ahmed would stand fireside in a short white garb imported from Mulhorand. The old tattooed man was certainly still fighting fit... even though he really was not as dexterous or flexible as he once was during his youth.

His eyes would be tired, the wrinkles at the corners clearly visible. A healthy man still, but the stresses of long military campaigns have taken their toll. He was after all, only human. Not one of those younglings that augment their forms with wings or skeletal arms or whatever it was they did these days. 'Back in my day...' Ahmed would start to think... "Gods, am I that old already?" He would utter.

There was the hit-and-run tactics of the mixed and fair folk during the Aglarond campaign... excluding the horror that was Queen Simbul.

Worse still, were the muddy and misty wilds of the Rashemen skirmishes. Damned backwards people with their lunatic barbarians and their witches. 'They would come... right out of the mists...' Ahmed would think to himself, his mind drawing back to those events. The tharc at the time had claimed it was in defense of their borders, but Ahmed was always the wiser... still, the end justifies the means.

He would pause, and then shake his head. It would seem Typhon was at work again in the back of his head. He would be sure to tithe well at the god's shrine, for he knew quite well that even the faithful could be betrayed by the source of betrayal.

Slowly pulling back the heavy beddings, he would utter a prayer to Typhon in thanks for the powers granted to him and for having kept him alive for all these years. The light of the fire would dance about, and Ahmed would slowly close his old and tired eyes.

As he drifted off... his last thoughts were to his squire.

"I wonder what that troublesome Darko is up to now... petulant child reminds me too much of myself when I was young..."

...

[DOT]

Mother may I?


Nefersit Umm

A mulhorandi woman of seemingly modest background, it was not until her leave of the ancient kingdom
and move into Thay that Nefersit embraced her cause publicly.
Worship of Set in Mulhorand was punishable by torturous death.
Worship of the same deity in Thay, there known as Typhon, was well enough accepted.

In the summer of the same year, Nefersit gave birth to her first and only child, Ahmed.
With no father to claim him, and his mother favoring not to marry, rumors circulated as to the boy's origin.

Nefersit was overly strict with her child, even by Thayan standards.
In her mind, this was necessary to foster an academically competitive spirit.
Discipline, focus, and strength of will were key.

Her only goal was to form Ahmed into a financially and socially successful individual of note.
This was done at the risk of his emotional well being. Taunts, jeers, social shame.
Her methods were harsh, but as Set says… the end justifies the means.

Nefersit was a social climber in Thay's elite class, marrying into nobility and becoming well established before her natural death in 1360.
Even now she lives on, in the back of Ahmed's mind… unsatisfied with his numerous accomplishments.

[DOT]

The Odd Couple

It is an... odd thing... a very strange occurrence that I find myself in the company of Malzaron once more.

It would seem, that every time I would encounter an extraplanar being, it is in part

due to his machinations. I find him quite foolish... virginal child.

Though here I am, once again. Allowing myself to become involved in his plots.

Tis no matter, let the "kings" have their thrones. I am content behind the curtain.

Still... it was worth it to see him getting hit by it.

[DOT]

I SAY A LITTLE PRAYER FOR YOU...

//ooc: What a standard prayer for blessings between Ahmed and Typhon (Set) looks like.

[DOT]

The cargo ship would move, not unlike a babe's cradle.

Ahmed would 'sleep' on his side... his back turned towards the only door entry, a hand under a pillow, where it gripped a summoning dagger.

His armor carefully set aside... the odd longsword, bound to a chair...

Ahmed would keep his eye closed as the moonlight shone through the aft windows.

The old priest would count... the number of days till he would finally reach the Enclave at Marsember... the vessel with full cargo, ready to dock.

Ready to unload its many desirables.

The wood would creak, the waves and spray would be dispersed by the vessel.

Soon.

[DOT]

Ahmed's carriage would roll to a stop near the side road to Suzail's House of healing... so the meeting was to begin.




He would enter the House of Healing... and upon waiting, would meet with Henrik, Davice, and eventualy Velisario.




//thank you all for the wonderful rp, it has been a while

[DOT]

"The path we walk is the one we create." -Sir Ahmed

Now is the time to reflect on our past.

Now is the time to examine our present.

What is our identity. What is our future.

[DOT]

The Talented Mister Newport

It was a rather... different day.
As I considered my current state, and the crossroads that was approaching,
I felt it appropriate to "take a breather" as the locals say.


What better place than a pub to avoid adventure and the like?


It was very quiet day indeed.

You had your usuals, always standing in the places you expected them to.
There was a fellow on the other side of the divider, likely enjoying the ambiance of the fireplace.
A balding fellow at the table nearby, and of course the barkeep/innkeeper/merchant licensor. 

We did our own individual things, reading a book, order a drink, keeping much to ourselves.

When the road wound towards a conversational encounter,

then I would say I did experience something I had not in quite a long time.


Basic conversation with no goals, tie-ins, and the like.

Just simple... chatter.



Most enjoyable and grounding.


Mister Newport certainly has talent to spare in his field of interest.

I am most curious to see how far he will actually take it.
A flash in the frying pan, or a steady flame?

[DOT]

The End

On this eve, Sir Ahmed passed away peacefully in his sleep.
Wisdom, caution, and luck has allowed him to live
a long life, and to end things
off the battle field.

Notices would have been sent to the Ironsworn, the Thayan Enclave at Marsember, Ilmater's House of the Healing, and The Cornucopia Trading Company.

"No memorial will be held, no grave to be visited. Sleep in peace."

//ooc thank you all for a beautiful four years with Ahmed