Recent content by Suleiman Askari

"I have my moments," Suleiman said, making sure to mind his table manners and to speak only when he didn't have a mouthful of food to get in the way (or come sailing out). His parents had been lax on him, but this was one of the things they made sure to scold him on. And here in Elbion those...

"Oh I'm not very talented, but I am good at squandering," Suleiman said, no stranger to self-deprecating humor. He was always the talkative sort, and being in the midst of so many well-established peers, he felt a strong but vague tug to make a "good impression". He ought to at least seem...

Suleiman flushed and quickly waved his hands and said, "Me? An adventurer? Oh-ho-ho-no, that's not me; I wish I was that storied. Ah. Well." Now he could cite his Uncle Fahid again, and he could cite the tales of home and the tales of afar that recounted daring men of renown. The Empire itself...

His lips rounded into a silent "Ohhhhh" as Suleiman, at Atticus's clarification, realized his error. He did have a bad habit of getting those two, Dornoch and Oban, confused ever since the days of his tutoring. Registering the idea of a "snowball" a touch late, Suleiman blinked and glanced...

"Well that's good." Suleiman immediately caught himself. "Not the part about the few, but the part about the most! I myself—I didn't know what to expect when I came here. I still don't, really, there's still a lot more, uh, 'settling' in to do, I suppose." She'd mentioned coming from a wealthy...

You've never seen snow? "N-No!" replied Suleiman, a bit flustered as though it were a thing he should have known but didn't. Aiko chimed in, and giggled, and though she suggested to make sport of his reaction, it didn't sound all that bad. Yeah, "wonder" wasn't that bad. A lot better than his...

Thanks to Papa. But also, thanks to the tutors that taught me... Suleiman smiled and couldn't quite hide his guilty conscience behind it. He had a similar story, of his father providing for him an education with tutors and the like (or at least making the attempt at it). Suleiman wasn't...

In Svenia's insight Suleiman found much to appreciate. Though his family, particularly his father and his mother, meant well, they had made for him a bed of silk so comfortable that he now found difficulty in rising from it, and had further fashioned an iron gate which kept many of the world's...

Suleiman collected his materials as the consensus swept over Svenia and Aiko too. Aiko glanced at him for a reason unbeknownst to him, and she flushed briefly, and Suleiman wasn't quite sure why; she did have fair skin and it could be mottled by the sun. She had the right idea with the parasol...

He sat as Svenia sat and seriously pondered her question, his back hunched and his elbows on his knees, his hands entwined and his brow in a deep furrow. Certainly he had caught some mean remarks before, barbs proceeding from some mishap or accident or other, but again it seemed not the thing...

Surely you understand? Suleiman couldn't hide his grimace. He...didn't understand. In the years of his childhood, he himself was not cruel or did cruel things—or at least he hoped he wasn't in gross error, and that Annuk would judge it so. Neither did he see what she was talking about in his...

Her bluntness, to Suleiman's surprise, lessened the sting of embarrassment. To put the unspoken in words lifted its burden before it could linger, and he discovered this then and there. Father did speak often on the virtue of straightforwardness. Can we find some place to sit...? "Yeah, yeah...

"Yeah, that's what I would suppose too," said Suleiman. "I remember back home seeing a man of magical talent passing through the city. I don't know if he was a wizard or adventurer or what-have-you, I had just heard some rumors; point being, I caught a glimpse of him, and he had a staff too, and...

A little gust of confusion crossed over Suleiman's expression. He didn't quite get it at first. Still he held the notion that the staff must have been for her magic, and thereby came the puzzlement. Help her walk a little steadier? What kind of spell was that? "It is pretty," he said, figuring...

Suleiman felt like fog filled his head. His neck, desperately in the struggle to support his embattled head, kept bobbing and bending like a oasis tree weathering a gale. His book, his parchment, he might fall into them, literally if his neck lost the battle, if he kept at it any longer. So...