With minor edits, here is a log from the funeral of Imani al-Aziza, organized by Yasin and performed on 14 Darshali 798. Not only was it a nice little event, but some of the cultural stuff may also serve as a helpful reference.
[City of Omrazir, Wali Djabeli Cemetery, Courtyard]
Humble as it is, this little walled garden is like a piece of legendary Paradise. A reflecting pool gives back a gently rippling mirror image of the domed mausoleum at its south end, the surrounding path set in eye-catching repeating patterns of brick. Flowering plants tumble over the edges of waist-high planters that line the walls, the withered scraps of their pink and yellow blossoms flecking the ground. Near the east wall of the enclosure, an ancient fig tree spreads its shady boughs.
Partial clouds edge past warm starlight.
Cardinal Exits: west: latticed luskwood gate (open)
Other: a domed mausoleum: broad archway (open)
A mild breeze slips through the slats of the latticed gate leading back out to the cemetery.
You go to stand by a reflecting pool.
You see a greying imam with inquiring brown eyes whom you recognize as you.
You are your own height, and appear to be of Sirdabi heritage. You have light brown eyes, tanned skin, and silver-streaked black hair in a neat short style.
Descended from Sirdabi heritage, this athletically built man is of average height and looks to be in his late forties. A square face is accented by a straight nose and inquiring light brown eyes, and his tanned complexion suggests a fair amount of time spent outdoors. He has coarse thick silver-streaked black hair, and his large thin-lipped mouth is framed by a full neatly-trimmed beard that is also heavily touched with grey.
You have no visible wounds.
You are wearing: a bleached white linen turban, a sand-beige flannel bisht, a white cotton thawb, a soft inikiskin mizuda, ivory-white knit sirwaal, some smart soft-grey suede sandals, and a white burial linen draped over the forearms.
You are holding a round flat rock in your right hand.
A hunched, elder woman walks through the latticed luskwood gate, hobbling along slowly.
You have emoted: Hajad raises his eyes from where he stands by a reflecting pool, head bowed over his cupped hands. "Peace be upon you, sayyida," he speaks softly to a hunched, elder woman. "May I be of some service to you this eve?"
Tall billows of clouds stretch up through the sky, silvery in the light of moons and stars.
A hunched, elder woman fails to move as quietly as she intends, a brass-capped reed cane announcing her arrival with a crunch against the garden's calm. She scans the garden without success until you addresses her. "Not me, I hope. I am here... perhaps early, for a service." [in Sirdabi with a sweet, shaky soprano]
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
You have emoted: "Ah." [in Sirdabi] Hajad dips his head in understanding. "You must then be among the former acquaintances of the young woman Imani Aziza, whose remains are to be interred here." [in Sirdabi] His eyes slip past a hunched, elder woman to look out through the gate, searchingly.
Tall billows of clouds stretch up through the sky, silvery in the light of moons and stars.
You have emoted: Hajad offers politely, "You may wait here if you wish, or you are free to go about the mausoleum and see the tomb of Wali Djabeli, harmony hold him." [in Sirdabi]
A hunched, elder woman returns a mild nod. "You are the Wanderer who will be hosting the service?" [in Sirdabi] she guesses.
You have emoted: Hajad smiles slightly at that. "Hajad, known sometime as the Wanderer. Yes." [in Sirdabi]
A hunched, elder woman gives an all around disinterested look to the broad archway. "I will wait. I'm sure everyone will arrive soon," [in Sirdabi] she decides, brushing off a brick planter and then planting herself gently on the brick.
A hunched, elder woman sits down on the edge of a brick planter. (Sit - on a brick planter -)
You have emoted: One eyebrow rises slightly as Hajad observes a hunched, elder woman, but he only nods acceptingly and replies, "Of course. As you wish, sayyida." [in Sirdabi]
A few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens, riding a warm breeze that sweeps in off the low swells of the strait.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
"Do you wander far, or mostly just around here?" [in Sirdabi] a hunched, elder woman asks you, changing the subject.
You have emoted: Hajad answers, "I've wandered much of Raziya, through the canyonlands and across the tops of the massifs. Beyond that, I have strayed into some of the neighboring portions of the Great Hazari." [in Sirdabi] He smiles again, softly. "I hear the harmonies of Annur most clearly among the sands and rocks." [in Sirdabi]
You ask, "And you? Are you a resident of Omrazir, or a wanderer yourself?" [in Sirdabi]
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
Clouds float placidly through a starry sea of sky.
"More wandering than suits me lately. I mean to stay here for a while," [in Sirdabi] a hunched, elder woman answers placidly, tapping the passing seconds with her forefinger on a brass-capped reed cane. "The garden here is well kept." [in Sirdabi]
You have emoted: Hajad inclines his head to a hunched, elder woman, then smiles again slightly. "As befits the sirdab of one of the holiest of men of the faith," [in Sirdabi] he agrees. "Not only imams like myself tend it, but pilgrims as well, and many of the people who live here also do their part." [in Sirdabi]
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
Tall billows of clouds stretch up through the sky, silvery in the light of moons and stars.
You say, "Perhaps you will as well, now that you choose to make your home here?" [in Sirdabi]
"I do not know much about him," [in Sirdabi] a hunched, elder woman admits, as she scans the length of the path.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
You have emoted: At that, both of Hajad's eyebrows come up, and he regards her consideringly. He pauses a moment, lips pursing briefly, then says gently, "It is a great shame that you should be in ignorance of one of the greatest men in our history. He was Adwa's closest companion in her exile, and one of the greatest champions of the harmony of the young faith." [in Sirdabi]
A few warm clouds tangle between the stars above.
A hunched, elder woman exhales faintly through her nose. "Yes, a shame," [in Sirdabi] she agrees dully. With a short grunt of effort, she pushes to a stand. "I think I'll take a walk around and see if any are making their way. Thank you for the company." [in Sirdabi]
A hunched, elder woman straightens to stand beside a brick planter.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair walks through the latticed luskwood gate, hefting a coffin slowly alongside a small group. He is followed by a small group.
A short elderly woman nods quietly to Firouzeh.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair and several others enter the courtyard outside the mausoleum. He bears a sturdy beechwood coffin in both of his hands, the edge supported by a hold from a lean, ink-eyed man, and with a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man's hand resting upon the planks as well. He dips his head to a hunched, elder woman in quiet greeting, and then to you as well, where his eyes rest.
You have emoted: Another small smile passes fleetingly across Hajad's lips, and with a glance from a hunched, elder woman to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair he says quietly, "It seems they have indeed made their way." [in Sirdabi]
A short elderly woman nods respectfully to the imam.
A rawboned, sandy-haired lad shuffles on in awkwardly, sticking close nearby to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, though apparently mindful of his height and staying mostly behind her. He darts glances to the others nearby, chewing anxiously at his lower lip.
A hunched, elder woman rises just in time. She nods to you and then greets the arriving group with a quiet dip of her head.
You have emoted: Hajad turns his full attention to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair and his little procession, and bows solemnly to them all. "Enter these grounds in peace and harmony, and be welcome here," [in Sirdabi] he tells them.
Casting meager spots of shade upon the hot and dusty ground, a few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens.
"Imam al-Hayim." [in Sirdabi] a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair calls out in quiet greeting to you. He bows his head more noticeably at those words, hesitates a little awkwardly, and then says, "And upon you, peace and harmony," [in Sirdabi with a calm and quiet bass-baritone] with the air of one a little out of practice at this sort of formality.
A hunched, elder woman steps away from a brick planter, leaving.
A hunched, elder woman steps away from a brick planter to join the gathered, settling towards the back of the pack with her attention on you.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man dips his head respectfully towards you as he shifts his weight slightly. His eyes quietly pans over the garden, something in his features relaxing slightly, but only slightly.
A lean, ink-eyed man inclines their head respectfully as well, a quiet presence alongside a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair and a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
You have emoted: "You may lay down your burden here for the moment, if you wish," [in Sirdabi] Hajad tells a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair kindly. "The ground here is the holy ground of the sirdab, and as is customary, the service will not be a long one. We merely pray for her who has gone on to Dream with the Dreamer itself, and honor the Dreamer for all it has Dreamed, and will." [in Sirdabi]
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair nods his head to you, though he hesitates before any further movement, as though unsure about letting go of this thing he holds tightly. After a glance to a lean, ink-eyed man and a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man, he does this, however, leaning forward and resting the coffin down by his feet.
Scraps of cloud in the warm night sky glide gently across the face of the stars.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair places a sturdy beechwood coffin on the ground.
You have emoted: Hajad's eyes scan the rather motley little crowd, and he adds, "For those who may not have attended such a service in a long time" [in Sirdabi] -- or ever, something discreet in his tone seems to say -- "I will guide us all through." [in Sirdabi]
A rawboned, sandy-haired lad casts a glance toward you, listening, or trying anyway, but he doesn't show any obvious signs of comprehension. He looks toward the others, as though to figure out what he should be doing by watching them.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man retracts his hand from the coffin when a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair starts to set it down. He eases back a step to stand with his hands clasped lightly together on his lower abdomen.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair dips his head once more, and mouths a quietly spoken, "Thank you," [in Sirdabi] at what you says. He does not distance himself from a sturdy beechwood coffin, the edge of his khuffs touching the beechwood planks. He simply stands, respectfully. He clasps his hands in front of him.
You have emoted: "Of course," [in Sirdabi] Hajad allows gently, after a small pause in which he gazes somberly at a sturdy beechwood coffin, "This is not quite a customary funeral, and so some things must be different. But all will still be done in harmony with our more usual customs." [in Sirdabi]
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
A short elderly woman gives Matty a glance that is meant to be reassuring.
You have emoted: Hajad looks over those assembled once more, then asks a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, "You are, then, of all these here, the one who was closest to the deceased?" [in Sirdabi]
(At the general area): A rawboned, sandy-haired lad slants a look back to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair and gives a wavering, self-conscious little smile.
(At the general area): A short elderly woman murmurs softly to a rawboned, sandy-haired lad, "The Iman is explaining that he will guide us through the ceremony." [in Ruvic with an off-key soprano].
(At the general area): "Th-nk you," [in Ruvic with a scratchy, youthful baritone] a rawboned, sandy-haired lad whispers back to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, though probably a little too loudly anyway. Rude.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair dips his head in acknowledgment of your question. There is no hesitation in his voice. "Yes," [in Sirdabi] he says, firmly. "I was." [in Sirdabi]
(At the general area): A rawboned, sandy-haired lad meant that for a short elderly woman, oops.
A few warm clouds tangle between the stars above.
You have emoted: "Very good," [in Sirdabi] Hajad replies, with a small nod of his head. "To you, then, will go the laying of her funeral shroud." [in Sirdabi] And he slips a white burial linen from his arms and extends the length of pale embroidered fabric to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
You remove a white burial linen.
You approach the general area.
You offer a white burial linen to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
(Quietly): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair flicks a brief glance to a short elderly woman and a rawboned, sandy-haired lad at the whispered exchange, but nothing in his expression seems to convey that he finds it rude at all. Instead, all of his attention is completely fixed upon you.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair accepts a white burial linen from you.
You say quietly, "Ordinarily, of course, we would wrap the body itself. But it will do just as well, now, to simply lay it over her coffin." [in Sirdabi]
(Quietly): A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man looks away from the ceremony and towards a rawboned, sandy-haired lad. The glance is only for a moment, but he also offers a reassuring smile before he resumes watching a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair and you.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair accepts a white burial linen in his hands. He holds the material betwixt his callused fingers, and listens to your instruction. For some reason, he closes his eyes at something you says. His eyes open, and he nods firmly.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair then kneels down by a sturdy beechwood coffin, and seems about to do just that, holding the shroud above the wood. He glances up at you, as though awaiting any other instruction or prerequisite.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair drops to kneel on the ground.
A lean, ink-eyed man lets out a slow breath paired with their own eyes closing briefly before reopening to settle on a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair and you.
Clouds float placidly through a starry sea of sky.
You have emoted: Hajad announces, "As Sayyid Yasin lays the shroud, all of us should prepare to attune ourselves to the harmonies of the Song, for next, we will perform al-ansijam." [in Sirdabi]
(Quietly): A rawboned, sandy-haired lad watches a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair now, and a sturdy beechwood coffin, though at your words he glances that way with a faintly puzzled frown, just for a moment.
You have emoted: Hajad cradles his speckled stone within his hands as he watches a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, his own expression becoming still more peaceful as he draws in a deep, slow breath.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gives a nod of his head to you, then focuses chiefly on a sturdy beechwood coffin. He extends his arms wide, encompassing as much of the coffin as he can and as the burial shroud will allow. He leans over to rest the shroud reverently upon the coffin, and holds that position, not quite letting go of either a white burial linen or a sturdy beechwood coffin.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair straightens and walks over to a sturdy beechwood coffin.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair puts a white burial linen on a sturdy beechwood coffin.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair drops to kneel near a sturdy beechwood coffin.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man reaches out to touch a twisting fulgurite pendant.
A lean, ink-eyed man gets out a shimmering green seaglass pebble from a rugged zharalhide mizuda in his possession.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair eventually lets one hand go from the shroud, dragging it along to smooth the material against the wood. His thumb runs briefly along some angular marks barely visible beneath the shroud on the upper edge of the coffin. He rests that hand there, and looks up at you, remaining in his kneel.
(Quietly): A hunched, elder woman settles into your rhythm, copying the slow breaths. To a rawboned, sandy-haired lad, she suggests gently, "Agigass daw Song." [in an unknown language]
A short elderly woman takes the redbird in her hand and draws a deep steady breath.
Scraps of cloud in the warm night sky glide gently across the face of the stars.
(At a sturdy beechwood coffin): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair takes nothing in his hand -- no prayer stone, or anything else. His right hand rests upon the coffin, his left empty.
You have emoted: Hajad exhales again, just as slowly, and gives a small bow to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair. Still quietly, he says, "We will now attune ourselves to the mystery and harmony of the Song with our humming, and then I will recite the Surah of Oneness to praise and honor Annur, our merciful Dreamer. You may recite it too, in the depths of your heart, and maintain al-ansijam until it is complete." [in Sirdabi]
(Quietly): A rawboned, sandy-haired lad looks aside to a hunched, elder woman and gives a quick nod-nod, frowning in concentration.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
You have emoted: Hajad gives a flick of his little finger against a round flat rock, which produces a brief quiet hum of its own. Before the sound completely fades away, he begins to hum along with it, a quietly resonant sound in the same key as the Prayer of Dreaming.
(At a sturdy beechwood coffin): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair takes in a deep breath, then lets out a slow exhalation. After you begins to hum, he closes his eyes, then attempts to match the same key.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man inhales deeply and closes his eyes, his features relaxing as he reaches for inner focus. He starts humming the moment that you does, trying to keep the sound steady and blended into the harmonies.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man hums in a light, airy tenor.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair hums in a calm and quiet bass-baritone.
A short elderly woman slowly lets out her breath in a soft hum trying to keep it steady and in the same key as the Iman.
A short elderly woman hums in an off-key soprano.
A hunched, elder woman hums in a sweet, shaky soprano.
You hum in a soft-spoken tenor.
(Quietly): A rawboned, sandy-haired lad looks around at everyone as they take up the hum, eyes darting nervously. But after a moment or two he gulps and gives it a try, trying to keep it quiet to blend in.
A rawboned, sandy-haired lad hums in a scratchy, youthful baritone.
A lean, ink-eyed man cradles a shimmering green seaglass pebble within their hands with gentle touch, slowly joining with their own quiet hum.
A lean, ink-eyed man hums in a muted countertenor.
Tall billows of clouds stretch up through the sky, silvery in the light of moons and stars.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes walks through the latticed luskwood gate.
You have emoted: Hajad keeps up his quiet yet powerful hum, which gradually begins to be matched by that of everyone else present as all their voices fall into a single resonant key.
(At a sturdy beechwood coffin): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair keeps his eyes closed as he continues to hum along with the shared key, his right hand still resting upon a sturdy beechwood coffin.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man keeps his head bowed and his eyes closed, his fingers lightly resting on a twisting fulgurite pendant as he continues humming along with the rest of the group.
You have emoted: Hajad's gaze passes across the courtyard towards an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes, and he inclines his head in wordless welcome to her as he maintains al-ansijam. Even if the services have already begin, he seems entirely unperturbed by a latecomer to the funeral.
(Quietly): An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes walks in as discreetly as can be managed, slipping through the open gates to join the gathering near the back of the garden as the hum rises to fill the space. With what might be a very vague look of contrition does she return that nod of your head before finding an unoccupied space, and after just a moment or two stills herself to join al-ansijam.
Tall billows of clouds stretch up through the sky, silvery in the light of moons and stars.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
You have emoted: Hajad allows enough time now for an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes to begin her own hum, and for it to train itself in key and pitch to all the other voices, each different, yet each residing together now in collected strains of harmony. Then, while that harmonious sound continues to vibrate the air, he allows his own hum to fall away as he begins to recite instead.
You recite sonorously in a soft-spoken tenor,
"By the Song of the One, Dreamer of all Dreams,
Breaker of bondage, master supreme." [in Sirdabi]
You recite sonorously in a soft-spoken tenor,
"To you alone we give service and praise
Your name alone is on our lips, to you alone our song is raised." [in Sirdabi]
You recite sonorously in a soft-spoken tenor,
"Send us the dreams of the righteous and the songs of sweet accord
And steer us clear of dark nightmare and discord." [in Sirdabi]
You recite sonorously in a soft-spoken tenor,
"In the light of your great name, we sing,
O Annur, Dreamer of the Dream." [in Sirdabi]
You have emoted: Hajad raises one hand, fingers outspread, as if trailing his fingertips lightly through the melodious notes. Then, slowly, he lowers his hand in a sign of silence.
(Quietly): A hunched, elder woman's own humming silences at the prompting.
A short elderly woman lets her breath trail off as her humming ends.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
(Quietly): A rawboned, sandy-haired lad fidgets a little and shifts his weight, listening as intently as he can manage to you while trying to keep up that hum. He gets distracted, though, and looks back down at that hole in his tunic again, and doesn't see the sign to stop, his hum continuing past the others until suddenly he realizes and cuts off with a blink and then a slight flush to his cheeks, checking as though to see if anyone noticed.
Scraps of cloud in the warm night sky glide gently across the face of the stars.
(At a sturdy beechwood coffin): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's eyes are closed, and -- perhaps similarly to a rawboned, sandy-haired lad in some way -- he does not notice your silent gesture. He lags behind, continuing to hum until it seems to dawn on him that only a very few voices remain. His eyes shoot open, and he seems to get the picture. He quiets, and swallows.
You have emoted: Hajad folds his prayerstone within both his hands, carefully and securely. Then he says into the stillness, "Now that we are in harmony with the Song and with one another, we may recite our prayers. The first, for the Prophet, harmony hold him. The next, for the deceased. The third, for her family and community." [in Sirdabi] He dips his head again, briefly. "They need not be said aloud. The Dreamer hears them, spoken or silent." [in Sirdabi]
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair rises to his feet after listening to your words, his hand lingering upon the shroud atop a sturdy beechwood coffin until the last possible moment. He clasps his hands in front of him once more, and bows his head. (Stand - beside a sturdy beechwood coffin -)
A limber, way-worn male walks through the latticed luskwood gate.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
A hunched, elder woman rests both hands on a brass-capped reed cane, closes her eyes, and bows her head.
You have emoted: Hajad prays, "O Al-Azad, most harmonious of souls, our guide both great and good through this life and the next. We praise you for awakening the harmony in our own souls, and for allowing us the hope of a peaceful reunion with that which Dreamed all of us into being. May this woman, Imani Aziza, join the notes of her song sweetly with all the Dream, now that she has passed on from this life to the land beyond." [in Sirdabi]
A short elderly woman quietly composes herself and gathers her thoughts. Then with the redbird still clasped in her hands, she bows her head, lips moving as she murmurs softly.
(Quietly): A lean, ink-eyed man dips their head over a shimmering green seaglass pebble, closing their eyes for a time.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man keeps his head bowed and his fingers lightly resting on a twisting fulgurite pendant, his eyes remaining closed while he quietly listens to you.
Casting meager spots of shade upon the hot and dusty ground, a few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens.
A limber, way-worn male walks solemnly along the mourner's path, arms folded within his cloak, and comes to a pause on the outskirts of the funerary gathering. His citrine-hued eyes settle briefly on you, then a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair until he bows his head with the others.
You have emoted: Having offered up this prayer to the Prophet himself, Hajad bows his head over his clasped hands and allows the others time for their more personal prayers for the deceased, should they wish to share any.
(Quietly): An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes listens quietly to the you, allowing her gaze to wander across the faces in the room before eventually settling upon a sturdy beechwood coffin and looking to it in what must be a contemplative silence. After a few more moments then she cups her empty palms together, the fingers of one hand curled protectively over those of the other, and also bows her head.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's fingers fidget slightly in his clasped grasp. At the conclusion of your prayer he looks up, searching, hesitant. Eventually, he sets his jaw and prays, raising his voice to be heard. "Imani was a singer, and..." [in Sirdabi] His words are awkwardly spoken, as though a conflagration of thoughts, all coming out at once, some fast, some slow. "...wished and dreamed to journey the Caliphate, to join her song with those she met. To spread light, and joy, to those she could." [in Sirdabi] He swallows. "I pray that now, at her reunion with the Dreamer, her song is at peace, and that..." [in Sirdabi] He pauses again. "...we remember those notes, as best we can, when... when others are quiet." [in Sirdabi] Well. An atypical prayer, perhaps, but one given. He quiets, and bows his head once more.
Tall billows of clouds stretch up through the sky, silvery in the light of moons and stars.
You have emoted: From Hajad's expression, solemn still yet serene, he doesn't seem to find any such heartfelt prayer unusual or atypical. Most likely he's heard any number of them by this point in his life, of all kinds and expressing all manner of sentiments.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
(Quietly): A rawboned, sandy-haired lad fidgets awkwardly, evidently *trying* to stay still and quiet and attentive but failing.
You have emoted: Hajad allows the time to stretch out a little bit longer, and then when all remains peaceful and quiet, he raises his head to pass his eyes softly over the gathering once again. "Good," [in Sirdabi] he says quietly. "Now, we will bring her remains to the ground which will take her in its embrace, and say the final prayer over her there." [in Sirdabi]
Riding a warm breeze that sweeps in off the low swells of the strait, a few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens.
You have emoted: Hajad glances very briefly to a rawboned, sandy-haired lad, but he's doubtless seen all too many fidgety young men at funerals too. There is only a mild look of reproof in that direction, and then he settles his gaze upon a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair. "Do you wish to carry the coffin again?" [in Sirdabi]
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's eyes depart from you at the conclusion of his prayer, briefly scanning the crowd. He then turns his attention back to the coffin and you at the question, and he nods firmly. "I do," [in Sirdabi] he replies -- and he does so, kneeling down, and taking up the thing with his arms.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair picks up a sturdy beechwood coffin from the ground.
A hunched, elder woman falls in with a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
(Quietly): A rawboned, sandy-haired lad quickly bows his head at your look, dropping his own gaze to the floor and stilling. At least for a moment, until a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair moves, and then he's watching him instead.
The soft reflections of clouds glide infinitely across the mirrored surface of the pool.
(Quietly): A lean, ink-eyed man remains quiet, a little fidgeting with a shimmering green seaglass pebble as they listen. They take slow steps alongside a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, their free hand uplifted questioningly a moment in an offering of support.
You have emoted: "Very good," [in Sirdabi] Hajad says, simply, as he observes a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair faithfull shoulder his burden once more. "I will lead the way, if you wish to follow." [in Sirdabi]
Haphazard bits of cloud dot the heavens, looking like an afterthought in the middle of vast dark skies.
(Quietly): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair is hesitant as he walks through the crowd, his steps slow at first, before he seems to gain some confidence, his steps firmer on the ground. His eyes settle on each person he passes. As he passes a lean, ink-eyed man, he nods, an acceptance of the offer given.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair falls in with you.
A limber, way-worn male falls into the group following you, solemnly pacing forwards.
A lean, ink-eyed man falls in with you.
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes raises her head once the time of prayer is gently ended, hands lowering to hold the hems of her abaya. With a thin press of her mouth she watches a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair in silence, and falls in with the eclectic group of people to proceed out.
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes falls in with you.
(Quietly): A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man offers a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair a subtle look of support and moves closer, taking the same spot behind the coffin as when he first arrived with the group. He too lifts a hand towards the coffin to place it against the plain wood.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man falls in with you.
A hunched, elder woman falls in with you.
You have emoted: Hajad bows his head briefly and then leads the way out the gate and back into the cemetery proper.
Hajad starts towards the frame of the open latticed luskwood gate. (Stand - near the frame of the open latticed luskwood gate -)
You are followed by a large group.
A short elderly woman falls in with you.
You walk through the latticed luskwood gate. You are followed by a large group.
A rawboned, sandy-haired lad walks through the latticed luskwood gate.
[City of Omrazir, Wali Djabeli Cemetery]
A luskwood gate, elaborately carved and latticed, offers entry into the walled enclosure to the east. Interspersed with leaning white headstones and a few wooden markers, low adobe tombs cluster thickly on the west side of the path, as if striving to be as near as possible to the mausoleum whose bright dome rises over the walls. To the northwest, across a jumble of tall mud-brick structures, rises an imposing hill topped with pale buildings.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair is here, holding a sturdy beechwood coffin in his right hand. A rawboned, sandy-haired lad is here. A lean, ink-eyed man is here, holding a shimmering green seaglass pebble in his right hand. An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes is here, holding a sheaf of parchment in her right hand. A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man is here. A hunched, elder woman is here, holding a brass-capped reed cane in her right hand. A short elderly woman is here.
Partial clouds edge past warm starlight.
Cardinal Exits: northeast, southeast, and east: latticed luskwood gate (open)
Hajad starts towards the southeastward direction. (Stand - near the southeastward direction -)
You are followed by a large group.
You walk southeast. You are followed by a large group.
A rawboned, sandy-haired lad walks over from the northwest.
[City of Omrazir, Wali Djabeli Cemetery, Intersection]
Coming around the south side of a whitewashed adobe enclosure, the graceful dome of a mausoleum emerges into view behind the high wall. The path continues its gentle loop northwest while trekking more ruggedly up the face of the hill to the southwest, where the graves take on a more varied character. Stone steps have been laid to the east, allowing a steeper ascent towards the cemetery's perimeter walk. Here is an open dirt grave.
A stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide stands beside an open dirt grave, both hands resting upon the top of a long-handled shovel's ashwood handle, holding a long-handled shovel in her right hand. A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair is here, holding a sturdy beechwood coffin in his right hand. A rawboned, sandy-haired lad is here. A lean, ink-eyed man is here, holding a shimmering green seaglass pebble in his right hand. An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes is here, holding a sheaf of parchment in her right hand. A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man is here. A hunched, elder woman is here, holding a brass-capped reed cane in her right hand. A short elderly woman is here.
Partial clouds edge past warm starlight.
Cardinal Exits: up to the southwest, northeast, and northwest
Other: some steep stone steps
The muted noise of falling water comes from behind the wall, filtered through the heavy branches of an old fig tree.
(Quietly): A lean, ink-eyed man braces their hands in a steady clasp following a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's steps and lead on the wood of the coffin.
(Quietly): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair returns to the intersection, following you in a somewhat bigger procession than when the group first arrived here. He is holding a sturdy beechwood coffin -- with the support of a lean, ink-eyed man, and with a hand rested upon the planks by a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man -- which has been adorned with a white linen shroud, and he clutches that shroud tightly to the planks of wood in his grip.
You have emoted: Hajad approaches an open dirt grave, a small entourage in tow, including a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair who carries the small coffin with him. He stops a short ways from the excavation in the soft dirt of the cemetery hill, spreading his hands in solemn permission for a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair to lay it down there.
Clouds float placidly through a starry sea of sky.
A limber, way-worn male walks over from the northwest.
A stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide merely watches as the procession approaches, seeming not so much impassive as remote from it all, as if only part of her were truly present here amid the dust and graves.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair nods his head to the open-handed gesture from you, and approaches the grave. He kneels down by it, and sets the coffin down next to the grave. (Stand - near an open dirt grave -)
A lean, ink-eyed man goes to stand near an open dirt grave, joining a stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide and a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair places a sturdy beechwood coffin near an open dirt grave.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair drops to kneel near an open dirt grave.
A rawboned, sandy-haired lad observes the sky.
A rawboned, sandy-haired lad takes a moment to peer upwards to the sky before his attention comes back to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair and a sturdy beechwood coffin.
You have emoted: Once everyone has gathered around and a sturdy beechwood coffin in its pale shroud has been laid down, Hajad says, "Now, it shall be placed in the ground, and I will recite the Surah of Salutations. For a death is not merely a parting or an end, but a meeting and a reunion -- which we too will gladly have one day." [in Sirdabi]
You have emoted: Hajad tips a small nod towards a stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide.
You see a stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide whom you recognize as a stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide.
A stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide is noticeably taller than you, and appears to be of Tessouare heritage. She has deep turquoise eyes, dull rosy-red skin, and pinkish hair in a multitude of thin beaded braids.
This angrosh appears to be of Grasharek lineage and is around average height for her kind, with a tough hide whose rosy-red hue seems dulled and dusty. She has deep turquoise eyes set above a strong and slightly hooked nose, and her weathered ivory tusks curve out about a hand's length from either side of her slightly downturned mouth. Long-shafted quills of faded pink droop in a lank forelock across her brow, while those that trail down from her crown and neck are secured in small bunches with thin scraps of leather. Around thirty years of age, she carries her rugged frame with the carefulness and reserve of someone much older.
She has no visible wounds.
She is wearing: a short hemp kaftan, a fraying purple homespun thawb kilted up above the knee, a rustic rope belt, and some shabby rust-colored foulard sirwaal gartered with strips of leather below the knee.
She is holding a long-handled shovel in her right hand.
A stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide picks up a sturdy beechwood coffin from the ground.
A few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens, high above the hillside sweep of the city.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's hands still rest upon the coffin, even as he sets it down, even while he kneels there. But at the gesture to a stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide and the move to lift up that coffin, he releases his grip, and looks up to the massive angrosh. He gives an acknowledging, small nod, and slowly rises to his feet.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair straightens to stand near an open dirt grave.
A stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide picks up the coffin with great ease, being careful of the gracefully draped shroud, and slips down to stand in the hole and lay the box there as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
A stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide puts a sturdy beechwood coffin on an open dirt grave.
A stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide bows her own head once over the coffin, matter-of-factly, and then hoists herself back out to take up her shovel once more. But she waits, turning to look towards you.
(Quietly): An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes looks on wordlessly and with a quietly neutral set to her countenance as the coffin is lowered into the ground.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's attention goes briefly to a lean, ink-eyed man and a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man at the surrendering of the coffin. It resets back to a stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide, and there's a momentary gesture of his right hand that might make one wonder if the young man was almost about to reach for the shovel himself. He does no such thing, though, and watches.
You have emoted: "Thank you, Digger," [in Sirdabi] Hajad tells a stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide softly. Then he looks up again, surveying the crowd. "You may recite the Surah of Salutations in your heart as well after me, just as you did the Surah of Oneness. It will be heard, and known." [in Sirdabi]
(Quietly): A rawboned, sandy-haired lad watches on as well, though maybe it's more just a chance for him to stare at a stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide some more.
You recite sonorously in a soft-spoken tenor,
"We greet you, O Annur, bathed in your light.
We greet you, O Annur, in the depths of the night." [in Sirdabi]
You recite sonorously in a soft-spoken tenor,
"All peace is from you, all peace is yours.
All harmony is through you, through all the day's hours." [in Sirdabi]
(At an open dirt grave): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair mouths the words to your recitation alongside, but they are spoken under his breath, inaudible.
You recite sonorously in a soft-spoken tenor,
"On life's path, O Prophet, your footsteps go before.
Your right-guided footsteps, leading us sure." [in Sirdabi]
You recite sonorously in a soft-spoken tenor,
"May peace be upon us, this day and all.
Peace be upon God's Prophet, following God's call." [in Sirdabi]
Haphazard bits of cloud dot the heavens, looking like an afterthought in the middle of vast dark skies.
You recite sonorously in a soft-spoken tenor,
"May harmony embrace us, and embrace all things in sum.
Harmony enfold us, in all times that are to come." [in Sirdabi]
You recite sonorously in a soft-spoken tenor,
"We greet you, O Annur, bathed in your light.
We greet you, O Annur, in the depths of your night." [in Sirdabi]
Scraps of cloud float amidst the twinkling stars in the stillness of the night.
It is night, the hour of the owl.
You have emoted: Hajad allows the sound of his own quiet voice to fade into the deepening night, and he turns his eyes upward to the stars for a few moments.
(At an open dirt grave): A lean, ink-eyed man bows their head, lips silently moving.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man keeps his head lowered and his fingers resting lightly on a twisting fulgurite pendant until the completion of the prayer. His solemn eyes seek out and remain trained on an open dirt grave afterwards.
You have emoted: Looking back down, Hajad concludes, "All who wish to may toss a handful of the good earth the Dreamer has dreamed for us onto her coffin. And then, you may depart, in harmony and peace, to dream well." [in Sirdabi]
(At an open dirt grave): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair concludes his quietly-mouthed recitation of the prayer, his head bowed, eyes focused towards an open dirt grave.
A stoic looking angrosh with a dull rosy-red hide breathes out a soft sigh, shifting her grip on a long-handled shovel in preparation for the work ahead.
At your words, a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair kneels once again, to dip his hand into the soft dirt from the excavation. He hesitates, his eyes focused on the paltry amount of dirt in his palm.
(Quietly): A rawboned, sandy-haired lad looks confused after trying to listen to you, and glances down to a short elderly woman questioningly.
Clouds float placidly through a starry sea of sky.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair looks to his other hand, and as though a decision was made, digs that into the dirt as well, now using both of his hands to form quite an impressive little pile of the earth. He stands up and shifts over to the grave, and lets the larger, two-handed pile fall within. Then, he takes a step back, making room for others.
A short elderly woman nods reassuringly to matty, then picks up a handful of the good earth, her head still bowed and gently, silently sprinkles it into the grave.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair steps away from an open dirt grave, leaving.
A limber, way-worn male dips his head, inkings on his jaw and lips moving a silent whisper as he recites in recall to your words. He bends, fingers lacing in the dirt, to sprinkle a scatter coursed waywards over the freshly dug resting place.
A short elderly woman steps back.
A lean, ink-eyed man leans forward to collect a small handful of dirt, then gives a gentle toss arcing it into the grave.
(Quietly): A rawboned, sandy-haired lad looks momentarily alarmed at a short elderly woman's nod and actions, then watches as the others do the same. He doesn't move yet himself, though, caught in hesitation.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man waits until a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair has sprinkled dirt onto the grave before he steps forward to join anyone else who's joining in. He kneels to pick up a handful of dirt and exhales slowly as he stops at the edge of the open grave. After a moment, he opens his fingers to let the dirt trickle out of his fingers in a quick, steady stream.
A lean, ink-eyed man goes to stand within the general area, joining a large crowd.
A hunched, elder woman steps forward to take her turn, patting a rawboned, sandy-haired lad on the shoulder as she passes to urge him on as well. She scoops a small pile and seasons the casket with it.
You have emoted: Hajad stand by in silence now that his work is done, seemingly at peace with it all. He looks quietly around at each person as they make their own small contribution to the grave, and studies without judgment those who do not. His gaze does perhaps linger momentarily on an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes, but then it passes on to the others again.
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes continues to look down to the coffin in silence throughout the entirety of your recitation. Even after his conclusion she remains staring at it for a while longer - until a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's motion finally seems to pull her away from wherever her thoughts were. She looks up with a bracing breath and, after a quick glance to those immediately around her, crouches carefully down to gather a palmful of earth. She approaches the open grave after a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man and a hunched, elder woman and carefully tips the dirt upon the shrouded coffin. Then she steps back, dusting off her hands.
(Quietly): A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man rubs his hands together to remove the grains of dirt still clinging to it. Seeing a rawboned, sandy-haired lad's hesitation, he steps closer to speak in a soft murmur. "Thar eecka iu okn uwepunn epp wuat aenni daw oov ui thar'ipp ioddu wesiukaonn ddongabb. A feak'oi ait thirrock eoff thar uv'na uaww rovoetaipp." [in an unknown language with a light, airy tenor]
Tall billows of clouds stretch up through the sky, silvery in the light of moons and stars.
Once a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair has rejoined the crowd, his eyes remain focused on an open dirt grave, watching as each person tosses dirt there. Eventually, his eyes drift towards the others. He seems to pick up on a rawboned, sandy-haired lad's hesitancy, and gives an encouraging nod alongside a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man.
A rawboned, sandy-haired lad gives a jumpy flinch at a hunched, elder woman's pat, but calms as he looks to see who it is. The gesture and then a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man's words seem to decide things for him, and he nods, and then anxiously steps forward too. He bends to grab a handful of dirt and, as 'gently' as might be managed, half-crouches to let it fall within. Then he quickly scoots back to the safety of the crowd once again.
(Quietly): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's eyes linger on a rawboned, sandy-haired lad for a moment, watching as he tosses the dirt into the grave. He gives an approving nod, and then eventually surveys the crowd in general.
You look up at the sky.
(Quietly): A rawboned, sandy-haired lad tries for a little smile to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair at that nod, but it's not terribly convincing, too shaded by self-consciousness and worry to be more than an attempt - but the attempt is made.
"Thank you," [in Sirdabi] a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair offers to the group in the space of the silence that follows, his voice quiet, solemn. "Thank you all, for coming. I'd... like to think that she knows, somehow. That you were all here, for..." [in Sirdabi] He trails off. "Well. Just, that. Thank you." [in Sirdabi]
A few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens, high above the hillside sweep of the city.
You have emoted: Hajad looks deeply thoughtful as he gazes up at the sky again, mouth set in an expression that falls a little shy of being a frown. After a time, though, he returns his attention to the earth-bound world, and to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair. "She knows, sayyid," [in Sirdabi] he says simply. "She will feel the harmony of your prayers, collected together here for her." [in Sirdabi]
A short elderly woman says, "Thank you, Yasin, for sharing this time with us." [in Ruvic]
A lean, ink-eyed man quietly replies to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, "You are welcome." [in Sirdabi with a muted countertenor] then gives an intent nod listening to you.
(Quietly): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair dips his head to a short elderly woman and a lean, ink-eyed man, his gaze still solemn, but the gesture likely meant warmly. It lingers on the latter for a moment before he turns his attention to you.
"She deserves a farewell from those who cared for her," [in Sirdabi] a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man responds softly and sincerely. "I do hope that she does feel our thoughts and prayers..." [in Sirdabi]
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair dips his head in acknowledgment of you, too. "And thank you, Imam al-Hayim, for guiding us in... this farewell." [in Sirdabi]
You have emoted: Hajad smiles gently at a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair as he replies, "Of course, sayyid. I was glad to do so." [in Sirdabi]
Haphazard bits of cloud dot the heavens, looking like an afterthought in the middle of vast dark skies.
You have emoted: Hajad goes on, "Now, I must return to Midtown for the present. But all of you may linger or depart, as you wish." [in Sirdabi] With a small tilt of his head, he says, "And of course, if any of you have need of anything else in which I can lend my aid, feel free to seek me out again." [in Sirdabi]
You have emoted: "Dreamer guide your path," [in Sirdabi] Hajad says with a small bow. "And may harmony hold you." [in Sirdabi]
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gives another dip of his head to you. His eyes drift to an open dirt grave once more where they linger, before he shifts his feet, as though intending to move away. He stops as he takes a few steps from the group, and says, "If any wish to linger, there are a number of places to do so nearby." [in Sirdabi] He swallows, then admits, "I am not sure of my destination. But if I see none of you the remainder of this evening, may the Dreamer guide your paths." [in Sirdabi]
Hajad starts towards the northeastward direction. (Stand - near the northeastward direction -)
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes looks from a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair in courteous silence over to you at those last words. "Thank you, shaykh," [in Sirdabi] she says quietly in farewell. "Harmony be upon you." [in Sirdabi with a low and measured contralto]
A rawboned, sandy-haired lad is no longer following a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
You walk northeast.