Aboard the Merchant Dhow Tuccar
Yaziz Inshal woke to the crash of waves against a metal hull. His eyes groggily opened, his vision swaying back and forth with the boat. Several seconds later and Yaziz almost vomited, holding in the spray of fluid with strength of will. He turned to view the assailant to his nostrils. There stood a dark skinned man simply known as Toro. Toro was a vile man, quite hefty and seemingly filled with unending sweat. On his brow was a tatoo marking him as a Tribal, a Beirutai at that. Yaziz, an Eranian, frowned in disgust.
"Time to go, your Majesty," mocked the fat man, whom thought himself quite clever referring to Yaziz as such, "We spotted land."
Yaziz gave a sarcastic grin and stood, covering his mouth and nose with a sleeve. His people, the Eranians, were known for their skill at sea. Yaziz apparently lacked the gene. He tumbled and tripped down the hallway and even more so as he climbed the steps to the deck. As he finally wiped away the sleep from his eyes he realized he was surrounded by more sailors, although the majority were Eranians, several Shahr and Beser tribesmen walked the deck. As if an act by divine providence, Toro was the only Beirutai he knew to reside aboard the ship.
"Yaziz! Good morning, Efendi! I trust your sleep was well?"
Yaziz turned to see Jari, a Beser whom had been assigned to him as an attendant for the voyage. Yaziz had to admit, the man had grown on him. Not many Beser were known for their skill at playing the flute, chess, or reading.
"Jari, it is good to see you. Yes, I slept fine, but for that disgusting Beirutai waking me so rudely . . . " said Yaziz bitterly.
Jari smiled, showing his pearly teeth. "Yes, he is a fat man not known for manners. Still, he is good at fetching things." Jari gave a chuckle and motioned for Yaziz to follow. After mulling about for a minute or so, Jari took Yaziz up the steps to the Kaptan's quarters.
"Kaptan, are you awake? I have brought Yaziz as requested!" said Jari as he banged the steel reinforced doorway. Yaziz could hear something stirring inside. With a boom the door was pushed outwards, taking Yaziz off guard and sending him stumbling back, only to be caught by the smiling Jari. The Kaptan stood, eyepatch and all, staring at Yaziz.
"Diplomat, we will be of need of your services in but a moment. We are nearing the coast and already we have seen many ships. You do speak Hironori, yes?"
"Well, you see, that is a misconception held by many Eranians. The people of Hironori have many languages and dialects. To answer your question though, I do speak several of them." After finishing his sentence Yaziz nodded astutely, his scholarly manner returning. The Kaptan only stared at him blankly, his brows furled in a constant, deadpan scowl.
"Wonderful. We will attempt to get close so you may speak with them. If not, we will hail them with the radio. Do you understand?"
Yaziz nodded as he turned to return to his quarters. A smile was forming across his face as his mind mulled over the many diplomatic strategies he'd use today.
Yaziz Inshal woke to the crash of waves against a metal hull. His eyes groggily opened, his vision swaying back and forth with the boat. Several seconds later and Yaziz almost vomited, holding in the spray of fluid with strength of will. He turned to view the assailant to his nostrils. There stood a dark skinned man simply known as Toro. Toro was a vile man, quite hefty and seemingly filled with unending sweat. On his brow was a tatoo marking him as a Tribal, a Beirutai at that. Yaziz, an Eranian, frowned in disgust.
"Time to go, your Majesty," mocked the fat man, whom thought himself quite clever referring to Yaziz as such, "We spotted land."
Yaziz gave a sarcastic grin and stood, covering his mouth and nose with a sleeve. His people, the Eranians, were known for their skill at sea. Yaziz apparently lacked the gene. He tumbled and tripped down the hallway and even more so as he climbed the steps to the deck. As he finally wiped away the sleep from his eyes he realized he was surrounded by more sailors, although the majority were Eranians, several Shahr and Beser tribesmen walked the deck. As if an act by divine providence, Toro was the only Beirutai he knew to reside aboard the ship.
"Yaziz! Good morning, Efendi! I trust your sleep was well?"
Yaziz turned to see Jari, a Beser whom had been assigned to him as an attendant for the voyage. Yaziz had to admit, the man had grown on him. Not many Beser were known for their skill at playing the flute, chess, or reading.
"Jari, it is good to see you. Yes, I slept fine, but for that disgusting Beirutai waking me so rudely . . . " said Yaziz bitterly.
Jari smiled, showing his pearly teeth. "Yes, he is a fat man not known for manners. Still, he is good at fetching things." Jari gave a chuckle and motioned for Yaziz to follow. After mulling about for a minute or so, Jari took Yaziz up the steps to the Kaptan's quarters.
"Kaptan, are you awake? I have brought Yaziz as requested!" said Jari as he banged the steel reinforced doorway. Yaziz could hear something stirring inside. With a boom the door was pushed outwards, taking Yaziz off guard and sending him stumbling back, only to be caught by the smiling Jari. The Kaptan stood, eyepatch and all, staring at Yaziz.
"Diplomat, we will be of need of your services in but a moment. We are nearing the coast and already we have seen many ships. You do speak Hironori, yes?"
"Well, you see, that is a misconception held by many Eranians. The people of Hironori have many languages and dialects. To answer your question though, I do speak several of them." After finishing his sentence Yaziz nodded astutely, his scholarly manner returning. The Kaptan only stared at him blankly, his brows furled in a constant, deadpan scowl.
"Wonderful. We will attempt to get close so you may speak with them. If not, we will hail them with the radio. Do you understand?"
Yaziz nodded as he turned to return to his quarters. A smile was forming across his face as his mind mulled over the many diplomatic strategies he'd use today.