Recent content by Zahir Balmahed

It was some further paces before Zahir answered. He kept traversing towards the camp, its tents and single, morose banner growing steadily on the horizon. A great belt of cliffs shot up on their left, casting a shield of shadow beyond the camp. "I am the master of this expedition. We have come...

Zahir turned his head as they walked, surprise marring his face at the legless Toreth being hauled along like a pack. It took him a moment to realise that Jhinn had opted for some sort of mercy. Perhaps. So he nodded in guarded greeting, leading him to his camp. "I am Zahir Emen Afneth Emen...

Zahir's eyes travelled down to the legless tiefling, and his mouth twitched with displeasure. He gathered his robes about himself, almost in a protective manner, and glanced out over the vista view, if only to distract himself from looking at the missing stumps for legs. "I understand the need...

Zahir folded his sleeves before him, patiently indulging Jhinn's question like a tutor before an insistent student. "From Amol-Kallit. It is indeed far west from here. Beyond Elbion and Vel Anir, which you may have heard of." He lowered his scarf to show a bearded, regal face, all sharp edges...

The wastes. It was almost familiar to him, here in the other end of Arethil. Nothing but miles of unhewn rock and unclaimed territory. Barren, as only places of truly ancient barbarism got. And that barbarism showed in the few denizens here. While the winds tugged at his jade robes and cloak...

Despite being a stranger to these lands, and still struggling with the local dialect, Zahir recognised an invitation when he heard one. It would practically be an impasse to decline now. As such, he stepped up to Youssef, his stride slow and measured, thumb tucked with dignified leisure into...

Zahir cupped his chin, gently stroking his beard with thumb and finger. He quietly perceived each card flipped, revealing their guidance. The young man spoke with the voice of many a fortune teller across Arethil. Vague and nebulous, holding just enough specificity to feel especially applicable...

Zahir walked the streets of Tirnua with an air of detached observation, noting the crumbled ruins with greater interest than the newer, half-timbered buildings and the people who had built them. Two imperial slave-guards followed in his wake, their threatening spears keeping most citizens at...