Yah Tayyib al Amirah

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An older, very skilled magician operating out of Faleen. A war veteran, discharged from the front at age 40 where he served from the age of 16.


He wore a billowing blue robe. Carrion beetles clung to the hem. He was a tall thin man, well over sixty and gray in the beard. His face was a sunken ruin, the nose a mashed pulp of flesh. But his hands, his all-important magician’s hands, were smooth and straight-fingered.


But the man in the door was tall and slender and intact. He carried himself aloof and erect, like a court magician. He wore his hair white and long. A beard the same color made a soft point from his chin to the center of his chest, hiding much of the severe expression on his deeply lined brown face. His eyes were two dark pools, the nose mashed, but his hands, his magician’s hands, were long-fingered, smooth, beautiful.