[Nadia] As the day approaches, you consult John. He claims the Bedouin will not strike you. Yet. Then he calls you a slut.

[All] All converging at Nadia's meeting place, a delightfully shady red-rock ridge lined by palm-dates, Nadia pleas with the al-Nazihah to reconsider. This is a thing of extreme danger and deadly ramifications, and she does not wish for her friends to be harmed, or worse. But the clan are resolute: Rasha smiles, flexing her stone arm, Zafir even grins, strone-eye aflame with blue fire, twirling a new, non-ebon but very clean new scimitar. Siddig, on his knees, promises to never let down a friend, or more, in need. Maha, hair billowing in the wind, tears in her eyes, can barely talk, and just holds her friend.

[Nadia] Suckers!

[All] Nadia, wiping a tear from her eye, thanks them, then panics: it is almost time. The clan rush to their places amongst the palm dates, as Nadia approaches a table-like rock structure, pouring prepared tea leaves into tiny cups. She then removes her cloak, revealing loose black silks and a lot of skin, silver jewelry.

[Nadia] You, of course, have to look the best for father. If all he can think of is your silky thighs, then he won't notice what happens next.

[Al-Nazihah] Siddig whistles low into the grasses, stating his appreciation for the clothing. Zafir is confused - if he was meeting his father, he wouldn't dress like a concubine, even if he demanded it. Rasha asks if Zafir has ever met their father? Maha hushes the others - something's happening…

[All] The moon cuts an eery illumination amongst the rocks - tearing through this light however, is a great, long shadow. Gently, it first passes over the moon, then the distant hills, then streaks over the desert, little more than a long black column. Slowly, it amasses as a puddle, just short of the table. And soon, rising from it's place, a figure draped in great heavy black silks and cloaks, his face obscured by a great black turban, his eyes little more than red flickering candle flames. By his side, two cruel looking knives. Iblis ahriman, the first fallen Djinn, Sultan of the Shadow Court.

{Al-Nazihah] Maha shudders at Iblis' approach. Rasha and Siddig swear. Zafir prays to Allah, blade drawn.

[Rasha, Zafir, Siddig] Something strange begins happening to Maha. Her hair excapes her scarf, billowing unnaturally. Her skin slowly becomes golden, detailed lines appearing over face and skin. In many ways, she resembles Turab…

[Al-Nazihah] Iblis strides up to the rock, only a few steps, his 10-foot-tall giant's pace. He says something brief, chugs his tea, and suddenly he is upon Nadia, pressed against her. She screams. He slowly draws a blade. Siddig grunts that that is not fatherly behaviour. Rasha agrees, lighting two torches. Zafir calls the al-Nazihah clan to arms in the name of Allah, and the missing Turab Qalb. All but Maha, shocked but muttering under her breath, descend upon The Great Satan.

[Maha] This is wrong. Very wrong. Either Iblis is a truly abusive father in ways you cannot even comprehend (even after viewing Turab's collection of racey manuscripts), or he's just a monster. Well, yes. Readying yourself, you begin the words of binding…

[Nadia] Iblis approaches. “Nadia”, his voice is whispery, old, “Sorry I'm late old dear. Bit of a revolution. Upstart young Djinn, that sort of thing. Usual backstabbbing. Bigmouthed silly blackhearted human sowing dissent, wot wot. Ofcourse, you wouldn't know about that.” He chugs his tea in one go. Forcing a smile, you part your legs slightly more. You blink. Pain. You have been forced against the rock, his great weight pressing against you. “Or maybe you would, eh? I may be old as shadow's spit, but I'm not stupid, old thing. Now, if we just amke like old times, maybe we can call this all quits, wot?”

You've had enough of this. You hear the Al-Nazihah rushing. Good. You lightly touch the pendant on your neck, and call for service…

[All] Between Iblis and Nadia there is a burst of sand, dark and billowing. Ahriman is pushed back. For a moment, a figure appears in the cloud. Dressed in black, great silver claws for hands. Black silk adornments. A dark hood, a silver mask. Another Djinn. As quickly as it appeared, it vanishes.

[Nadia] Your slave glares at you, elemental hatred. More than a powerful old man grinding into you, that turns you on. You begin to recite teh words of binding…

[Maha] Your heart flutters for a second. And is then still.

[Zafir] Your stone eye rotates. You see a sliver of skin behind the Silver mask. Orange, golden skin. Sad eyes.

[All] Ahriman falls to the ground, but re-rights himself, flowing like water. “Another betrayal, Nadia?” it shouts, “how beautifully predictable!” Zafir strikes, blade flashing. Iblis responds, cloaks unfurling, revealing themselves not to be cloth, but great bat wings. The skeletal form beneath draws two wicked long knives, deflecting Zafir's relentless blows with ease.

“Zafir, is it not?” starts Iblis, Zafir paying little attention, “Enjoy my blade did you, you little effluent slump? Or did you get bored of it, of it's majesty? You apelings have no respect for our gifts!”

Rasha rushes around the great shadow, torches dragging across the Earth, flames forming a circle around Iblis and Zafir. Iblis shakes, hissing, trying to defend both his eyes and body as Zafir presses in. Soon the blades are discarded, snaking through the air and burning up in the moonlight.

“You think light will trap me, wot? Will bind me thus?” begins Iblis, roaring with rage, “Know that I am darkness born! I am the first fallen! I am Iblis!” His great arms rush forward, little more tahn black smears, grabbing Rasha and Zafir about the necks. Black smoke billows. Screams.

“Ahem” Siddig coughs for attention, “If perhaps you will lower my siblings, we could talk wedding, dowries, business…”

Iblis stops still, Rasha and Zafir falling from his gasp. He turns and lowers, still shielding his eyes from his firey ring prison. “Did you say… business?”

Siddig does his best “I'm orchestrating a wedding-arrangement with a Fallen Angel” face, and smiles. “The dealing of my marriage to your most captivating daughter Nadia. I will of course be willing to negotiate a dowry or offering on your behalf for the beneficiary acceptance of our happiness…”

“Waitwait..” halts Iblis, palm out, scratching forehead, ”…deals and soul-pacts I get, yesyes easy stuff. But did you say my dau–”

Maha and Nadia's chanting becomes deafening. The fire around Iblis turns white. He screams, not in pain, but in rage.

“WHY WAS I SO BLIND?!?” he screams, chains of flame writhing around his wrists “FINE! BIND THE GREAT IBLIS AHRIMAN! CLEVER GIRLS! CLEVER GIRLS INDEED! BUT REAP WHAT YOU SOW!”

There is a great black explosion as Iblis becomes little more than a flailing whirling black mass. All are knocked to the air, the earth churned, the palms torn asunder. Through it all Maha and Nadia keep chanting…

[Maha] A great black wing strikes you. A great searing cold. Your clothes are rent, the bottle city and glass skull swept into the storm. You swear and scream, a deep gut-wrenching pull in your heart. Iblis voice in your ear: “You met my namesake, did you not little girl? You are truly blessed. Humph. Think well on his words…

[All] The darkness clears. The clearing is torn. Everyone is fine, but there is a flaming crater where Iblis stood, a single black marble sitting in the ditch. Nadia takes the black orb, laughs delighted, and slips it into a bottle. Everyone cheers and celebrates, Nadia embracing both Maha and Siddig, Rasha pulling a shocked Zafir to his feet, who can only repeat “I fought Satan! I fought Satan!” Nadia explains how she has to dispose of the remains as soon as possible, and despite the offers to help her, she makes excuses to do it alone, disappearing into the night.

[Nadia] The Black Pearl in your mouth, Ishanni between your legs, you scream as the pleasure and darkness washes over you. Your body changes, the flesh burning away, replaced by malleable darkness. Around you, the room changes. Darkness seeps in. With a glass-splitting scream, you come back down, shrouded by a thousand shadows. You feel perfect, complete. Sitting upon the throne of Iblis Ahriman, you glare at your subjects and bid they bring you offering. A few mention that Nizam-Ata is their master. A few manifested tendrils of darkness later, and they are compliant. But Nizam is still a problem you must deal with - no court can have joint rulers…

Soon, A'Sayyal, young and worried, brings you a message: during the Iblis debacle, he was able tos ecure Maha's broken bottle, issuing forth Golden Light. With a lust, you ask for it, and A'Sayyal looks worried. He explains that he had it, but no longer. Something took it. Things. Guys. Little guys. He can't describe. Grimacing, you punish your subject and plot more…

[Maha] You return to The Court, distressed and still missing Turab. Attempting to sleep, alone, in your resplendant, yet still downcast halls, you are awoken by tiny scurrying noises. You spy small figures, a dark green-grey, tiny malformed bodies with stick limbs, and big, expressive faces. There are a dozen of the Tiny Chaps, and no two look alike. One approaches you (you notice he is wearing a fruit bowl for a hat). “For you!” he squeaks, pulling out a bundle from behind. Within is your bottle city, thank Allah, but there are cracks in the container - great black rimmed burns where light is pouring out. The whole bottle shakes slightly. “Be careful!” squeak the Little Fellows, and as strangely as they appeared, they are gone…

[Zafir Siddig Rasha} You ride back. Something just doesn't sit right about this whole debacle. But you are unable to ponder on this anymore as Zafir won't shut up about “I fought Satan!”