>>5796481She scoffed, and chewed her lip a moment, but then seemed to cede the point, beckoning you to follow her closer to the outcropping’s edge. Your hand found the comfort of Muffin’s mane, and you cast a quick glance back to your friends, before doing as she asked. As you walked together, this strange wasteland woman answered your inquiries.
“I am called Nemenmo, of the Neme… What are called by others the Ashurati. We are children of the Djinni.”
“Oh, a genasi!” you gasped, excitedly.
“A what?!” she demanded, looking at you again.
“A… A genasi?” you hazarded. “A tangible race, but descended from of a class of elemental fairy normally invisible to non-fey humanoids?”
Nemenmo looked at you, uncomprehending and seemingly a little offended.
“I am of the NEME,” she corrected you slowly, “but you may, if you MUST, call me Ashurati.”
“Right,” you said, perturbed by her demeanour and honestly a little intimidated by her intensity. “And you’re here, staring at the goblins below, because…?”
Nemenmo huffed haughtily, and pointed down below with an elegant gesture of her finger, telling you: “Look and see, with your own eyes, forest-foreigner.”
You did as she (impolitely) suggested, and saw the goblin camp. There were about a dozen of the goblins there, you noted, both males and females. They had the characteristic green hue of their race, with the large and wide ears jutting out from their hoods. None stood taller than four feet, with most closer to three. They had a cooking-fire, but had placed some sort of structure of stone and topped by a hung grey-green fabric, all serving to hide the light and to disperse the smoke. They had a caravan about hem of rickety rickshaws and scattered packs and four shaggy-looking creature like lumpy horses…
And in chains, amidst them, they held a thin, lean, rust-coloured male humanoid with a hairless, forlorn face with ivory eyes.
“Ah,” you said, sagely in your wisdom.
“Yes,” Nemenmo agreed bitterly.
