[D&D5] Al-Qadim

Je ne pourrai plus être là au final. C'est l'anniversaire d'un de mes meilleurs potes . Désolé.
Mais je serai là à toutes les autres parties donc ne pas supprimer ma place stp Muchos Gracias

Ok donc pour vendredi nous avons:

- Bosk
- HansX
- Lyubyana
- Kalimsshar
- Emji

quid de: Spankangelo, Jeudimaster ?

BiBiTheKid a écrit:

Je ne pourrai plus être là au final. C'est l'anniversaire d'un de mes meilleurs potes . Désolé.
Mais je serai là à toutes les autres parties donc ne pas supprimer ma place stp Muchos Gracias

t'inquiète pas, je trouverais quelque chose d'exotique et cocasse à faire à ton perso pendant ton absence :-)

Moi c'est bon.

Le yoyo va me manquer

Je sors seulement maintenant d'une réunion décan fi ir à 11h30/./ j'ai donc 2h30 de retard que je ne pourrais pas éponger... Donc ce soir ce sera sans moi désolé les gars...

J'en connais qui vont être prudents ce soir

Mais non une bande de gros Bill sans heal ça va l'faire même pas de perte... Lol

Je soigne aussi. Enfin moins bien que toi

Bref j'ai raison de faire un pretre de la lumiere

avant que j'oublie: le texte sur l'hospitalité et le Lien du Sel.


In the Land of Fate, generosity brings honor, while stinginess spawns contempt. As a result, Zakharan hospitality is unrivaled. According to Zakharan ethics, a man must offer food and drink to anyone who appears at his doorstep as a friend, no matter how poor the host may be. In her husband’s place, or when receiving female friends, a woman must do the same.

If a guest comes to the door at night, a host must offer lodging as well as sustenance. A wealthy host may also offer entertainment, such as the dance of a talented servant, and perhaps even a gift. The obligation—and desire—to offer hospitality is as compelling as any personal need. A nomadic tribe whose foodstuffs are nearly gone may avoid a busy oasis even if their water stores are equally low. The tribe would rather know thirst and hunger than be unable to offer hospitality to the strangers at the oasis.

A host assumes responsibility for the well-being of his guests. Whether a man lives in a goat’s-hair tent or a lavish house, his honor depends on how well he treats those who place themselves in his care. For this reason, guests can expect safety as well as sustenance—even if they once were the host’s enemies.
Arsenic and other toxins are easy to obtain in the Land of Fate, and poison is a common way to eliminate foes. Nonetheless, once foes become guests—and share the bond of salt—even they can eat heartily, expecting the host’s protection as well as his friendship. In turn, the guests are expected to act as loyal friends, never overstaying their welcome, and never overstepping the bounds of good behavior.


The Bond of Salt

The salt bond epitomizes Zakharan hospitality and the mutual responsibilities of host and guest. When a guest ingests salt from a host’s table, their bond becomes formal. Presumably, the salt remains in the guest’s body for three days. Until those three days elapse, the host is responsible for the guest’s welfare,
By offering the salt, the host vows to protect the guest from harm for the duration of the salt bond.

The guest has his or her own obligations. By accepting the salt, a guest agrees not to bring harm to the host. Furthermore, a polite guest should leave with the coming of dawn if the family’s stores appear to be lean. If the family protests heartily, the guest may stay for the entire duration of the salt bond. No matter
what the host may proclaim, however, it is impolite for a guest to remain in another’s house for more than three days. Thereafter the welcome is gone, no matter how much salt is consumed. Furthermore, a guest knows that it is impolite to ask for hospitality of any kind; he or she must wait for the host to offer it. Since
it is the host’s duty to do so, and it is an insult not to accept, a guest is rarely disappointed.

The rules of hospitality come to light in Scheherazade’s famous tale, “Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves.” The poor woodcutter Ali Baba discovers a treasure trove in a magical cave, which belongs to a band of robbers. Ali Baba takes some of the treasure, which is clearly centuries old.

The robber captain discovers Ali Baba’s identity and vows to kill the daring woodcutter—but not before Ali Baba is severely punished. In the guise of a merchant, the robber goes to Ali Baba’s modest home. The kindly woodcutter fails to recognize the robber and graciously offers a meal. The “merchant” does not wish to accept. He claims to have special dietary needs. When Ali Baba insists, proclaiming that anything can be prepared, the robber feigns embarrassment and says he can eat no salt. Even this unscrupulous man—a thief and a murderer—will not violate the laws of hospitality. If he were to consume Ali Baba’s salt, he would feel honor-bound not to harm the woodcutter or his family.

Ali Baba serves his guest unsalted meat. The robber chews the fare, and he schemes, imagining how he will humiliate and destroy his gracious host when the meal is done. Before his plan can take effect, a clever servant girl enters the room. She dances magnificently, bending to and fro while brandishing a scimitar. For the finale, she plunges the blade into the chest of the surprised robber.

The robber is dead. Ali Baba is mortified. He believes he must kill the girl as retribution, because the merchant was his guest. The girl hastily reveals the merchant’s true identity, and explains how the robber purposely avoided the bond of salt, so that he was not really a guest after all. Everyone lives happily ever after (except the robber, of course).

In another well-known yam, a thief is pillaging a home when he comes across a small box. Inside it is another little box, which contains a fine white powder. Thinking it’s sugar, the thief touches it to his lips. To his horror, he discovers that it is salt! Immediately he leaves the house, taking nothing. Like the robber in
the tale of Ali Baba, he is willing to steal. Yet he cannot bring himself to violate the bond of salt, even if the bond was forged by accident. To most Zakharans, actual salt is not required for the bond of hospitality. Even guests who merely drink water or unsalted coffee can expect no harm from an
honorable host.

Donc, dans cette idée, on ne pouvait pas tuer le diable de poussière, à moins de le laisser mourir de soif...

Lyubina a écrit:

Donc, dans cette idée, on ne pouvait pas tuer le diable de poussière, à moins de le laisser mourir de soif...

Hum, moi je lis "man must offer food and drink to anyone who appears at his doorstep as a friend"... je ne sais pas si les règles d'hospitalité s'appliquent aux prisonniers...

...par contre exécuter un prisonnier, désarmé et implorant pitié, n'est peut-être pas très honorable^^

...et ne pas donner quelque chose au petit Malik qui a réussi à multiplier par 20 le salaire des combattants du groupe, ce n'est pas honorable non plus

C'est vrai qu'un prisonnier n'est pas là en tant qu'ami...
Et pour Malik... moi je n'ai rien à dire, mais je suis d'accord... vous devriez tous les deux lui donner une partie de vos pièces d'or (dinars si je me souviens bien), et pas simplement le bonus de 4 PO entre 66 et 70... je comprends qu'il en soit frustré... et si vous voulez continuer à bénéficier de ses largeurs, il faudrait mieux ne pas l'oublier... il est intéressant le petit barde

Concernant le partage de la somme, j'ai certes que donner 4 dinars. Mais j'ai voulu qu'on repartage avec ceux qui etaient absent. Et la Aïsa a balaye d'un main et n'a pas voulu.

J'aurai voulu partager la somme de 140 dinars en 5 parts. 1 part pour les 4 gardes de la caravanes et 1/2 pour Malik (passager clandestin) et 1/2 pour Selma (marin perdu dans le desert )

Tu n'as pas dit ça très clairement... mais ça peut se discuter dans la suite du scénario après tout... on a nos 8 têtes coupées à ramener, puis on pourra en discuter à... tête reposée...

Certes je n'ai pas preciser pour le passage. Mais c'est quand on ete chez "Abdallah" le marchand que j'ai dit qu'il fallait partager avec les absents et que Aïsa a balayé d'un main et a meme dita Malik "Qu'est-ce que tu veux? On te paira!". Et Malik a demande des vetements "made in Zarif" et la le 1/2 Orc c'est fache sur lui

En même temps, il a aussi parlé d'attendre les deux autres pour partager si je me souviens bien... De toute manière quoi que de plus normal que d'avoir des disputes et des mauvaises compréhension entre un demi orc et un humain?

parcqu'on parle d'honeur justement (et qu'il y a encore une bonne semaine a attendre avant la prochaine partie), je vous propose ce petit texte pour patienter

Honor

Life without honor is meaningless.
—Zakharan proverb

The pursuit of honor—and the prestige it brings—is a driving force behind the life of every Zakharan. For many, there is no greater cause. Even to a city dweller, money and power mean nothing if they are attained at the expense of one’s honor.

In its broadest sense, honor is the embodiment of all that is good—such as honesty, kindness, and forgiveness. Honorable men and women keep theirword when it’s given. They are generous, offering sustenance to those who are poor, lending protection to those who are weak. They are faithful to their friends and loyal to their families. Men show their strength and bravery in battle; women display their courage in the face of hardship. Both must be virtuous and free of shame.

To a foreigner, the Zakharan concept of honor may appear complex. To a Zakharan, nothing could be simpler. Honor is as natural and as necessary as breathing, and its badge, for better or worse, is as inescapable as death.

Every action, large or small, serves either to enhance or erode one’s honor. Moreover, every deed colors the honor of an individual’s family. Honor and kinship are closely entwined. If a man acts dishonorably, his offense may create a stain upon his family’s honor that will be remembered for generations to come. The same, of course, would hold true for a dishonorable woman.

Honor is closely guarded. For every insult to aperson’s honor, restitution must be made. If the insult is small, a simple apology may suffice. But to steal or injure with intention, to kill without justification—these are grave offenses. They can ruin the honor of the offender as well as that of the offender's family. Moreover, these crimes assault the honor of the victim and the victim’s family, too. The graver the offense,the greater the required restitution—and the harshest the punishment.

If, for example, one should be caught stealing, one may lose part of his hand; at the very least, he will be forced to make a humiliating public apology and to offer money or livestock to his victims. If a man kills another without just cause, then the victim’s family has the right to demand the offender’s death—or to kill him themselves—in lieu of monetary compensation. In all likelihood, the offender’s family will eliminate the offender themselves. When a crime is severe, only the death of the dishonorable person can erase the stain upon his or her family’s honor. In effect, the family must “cut out the offending part” before the honor of the whole can be restored.

Aside from murder, only one crime is great enough to warrant punishment by death: amorous impropriety.Contrary to popular belief among foreigners, no honorable desert warrior would ride off with his enemy’s screaming wife—even in the midst of a feverish camel raid. (Such raids, incidentally, are not considered stealing.) Nor would he ride off with his enemy’s unwed daughter unless a marriage were to be arranged somehow. In fact, if a desert raider were to return to his camp after committing such a crime, his brothers might strike him down on the spot—thereby sparing the family honor. Women are the usual target when accusations of impropriety are made.

Men are by no means exempt,however, as this common parable illustrates. In every Zakharan settlement, children approaching14 adolescence hear a story about a girl from a “distant village” who fell prey to temptation. The names in the story change at the teller’s whim, but we’ll call the girl“Maneira.” Maneira was promised in marriage to her first cousin on her father’s side (a customary practice inZakhara). Unfortunately for all, she fell in love with a young herdsman. Struck by madness, she went to meet him one night. When news of her indiscretion reached her brother, Hasim, he immediately sought her out and plunged his dagger into her heart, as if to banish the evil spirits that had lead her astray. Hasim was a devoted brother who loved his sister dearly; he took no pleasure in this deed. But killing Maneira was his duty. Had he not done it, then it would have been his cousin’s right. By slaying her himself, Hasim had done more to repair his family’s honor.The story is not finished until the fate of the herdsman is known. After killing his sister, Hasim looked for the boy who had wrought such shame and torment. It was Hasim’s right to demand the shepherd’s death—and to kill the bastard himself if need be. The herder’s father had already learned of his son’s impropriety. Like Maneira, the boy was killed by a member of his own family.

Retaining honor can be avery bloody, sorrowful business.The punishment for impropriety is not always as severe as the story demonstrates, however. In reality,Maneira and the boy might have been allowed to flee into the desert, and simply be banished from their families. In effect, however, they would still be dead to the families they dearly loved. In some larger towns, a test of Fate and the gods’grace is considered suitable punishment. For example,a boy was once placed in well for 40 days, while his paramour was placed in another. Each day, they received only a little coffee and a few dates. The girl survived; the boy did not. This was considered proofthat the girl had benefitted from a holy grace, and he rpunishment was complete. So, too, was the boy’s.

The Blood Feud

No discussion of honor would be complete withoutmention of the blood feud. To kill another person is not a crime if that killing is justified. What constitutes justification? Not even Zakharans can always agree. Ablood feud is a battle between two groups that begins when one side believes a killing is justified, and the other, having lost one of its own, disagrees. Soon, they are both caught in a vicious cycle, exacting one vengeful killing after another, with each side attempting to balance the scales. The feud may not end until an objective third party arranges a monetary settlement between the two groups, allowing each group to feel that its honor has been properly restored.A blood feud usually erupts between two nomadic families or clans, but even entire villages have become embroiled in this deadly conflict.

Alors comme je l ai dis pour l argent moi je m en branle, j'ai dis quand quelqu'un a besoin d un truc utile on le paye point final. A quoi ca sert que tout le monde est 5 Po dans sa bourse? et qui a besoin de quoi utile?
Regardez la taverne on l a payé avec un pot commun.

Si vous voulez vraiment partagé il faut partagé au % effectué.
Donc en gros ou tu suis le contrat et c est 1/4 a chacun des 4 qui on été engagé.
Ou tu veux distribuer a ce qui on participer soit 1 part au prêtre guerrier, au barde et au guerrier prêtre + 1/2 part au prêtre, au marin et ranger.

Hello à tous,

on joue vendredi, je fais donc un petit tour de présences. Qui sera là ?

+1

present chef!

Le petit Malik sera présent^^

quid de Lyubiana et Bibithekid ?

je devrais être là, si je ne suis pas trop malade.