"Zurshney." : A Greenbo Jenkins Esq Tale

"Well, this is a phenomenal waste of my baszāging time!"

Jardun Jarric kicked the odd-shaped box across the floor and angrily surveyed the deserted captain's quarters.

"A bounty you promised me! C'mon Jard, you said! No ones even seen it yet, you said! Bound to be full of riches, you said! It's a Yungan Merchant vessel, wrecked on the old Skellig... Ya Bollix!

Michå took a step back, but wisely kept his sweaty palm on the hilt of his sword. Sure, him and Jardun went back, but this man was unpredictable. The locals said, it was easier to sail smoothly through a typhoon, than predict Jardun's actions when the black rage was upon him.

"By an Ehscêk's cock! What is this baszāging contraption?"

He strode furiously across the room, picked up the peculiar shaped box, waving it alarmingly near Michå's face.

" What is this, Michå?"

Michå remembered the story of how Jardun had lost his left eye; not to mention what had happened afterwards to the unfortunate perpetrator. The incident was now a cautionary tale to frighten his enemies and debtors.

Jardun turned away shaking the alien item. 

"Aha! Ya hear that sweet rattle?"

A satisfied smirk flickered on Jardun's thin lips. He raised the oddity to his functioning eye, examining it closely. All the while his wiley fingers explored the frustratingly smooth edges. 

"They're baszāging mad those Yungans. Why's this box got a pointy end and two perfect half circles at the other end? It's no shape, known to me.!"

He violently shook it, looking around exasperatedly. 

"I know triangles! I recognize circles! Whatever Ehscék cursed phenomena this is, it better open quick sharp, and a big gyemant better fall right out... or we two are gonna have words... Ol' pal of mine."

The smile was all teeth and threats. Michå certainly didn't feel any bond of friendship with his fellow reaver.

Jardun's vigorous efforts were to no avail. Michå whistled quietly to himself. Suddenly he decided to take a risk and suggest something to his violent acquaintance.

"Let us have a look Jard. I have some experience with this Yungan stuff. Remember I crossed the Ostali and raided their towns on my way to Csális."

"We all know of your famous travels ya bleedin' galoot. By the blessed balls of an Eladan , you never miss an opportunity to tell anyone who'll listen. Always goin' on about how rich those foreign buggers are, but current circumstances would make you out to be a liar." 

Jardun shoved the box into Michå's arms and stormed out of the captain's quarters, yelling back:

"I need some fresh air! Get that thing open!"

Michå, sighing gratefully, lowered himself into the captain's resplendent recliner. He laid the curiosity carefully on to his chest, and began a meticulous examination. No detectable hinges. No visible edges of any kind. 

Michå stared up at the ceiling, breathed deeply and let his mind reflect on those strange days in the distant Kingdom of Yungan.  

Once again he wandered the crowded streets of Csális. All those insane dwellings, almost on top of each other. All those funny looking Madans, laughing and hugging, shouting and screaming in their exotic tongue.  

"Zurschney!"

In his mind's eye, the distinctly ugly Yungan crone wagged a finger at him; then gestured at all the other women in the marketplace, and finally poked him decisively in the chest. 

"Zurschney!"

She'd then offered him a wonderfully scented bouquet, thrusting it onto him. She repeated herself and pointed directly at a young lady sitting in her shop store's entrance. Back then, in that other life, he roughly pushed the hag aside and strode off towards the next bar. 

Now he focused in on the images. The entire time, he was holding the Yungan container; continually turning it over in his callused, weather beaten hands. Why had his thoughts returned him here? 

In his memory he scrutinized the old woman. He now noticed her gown. Superficially she appeared to be wearing just a simple black garment. This was deceptive.  

The longer he concentrated, the more he discerned the subtle red silk thread, decorating her dress. He immersed himself deeper, finally perceiving the pattern of a single triangle crowned by two half circles.

"Zurschney," he whispered. 

The chest began to hum, and seemed to grow warm to his touch. Michå immediately opened his eyes and stared in wonder at the unusual object.

He lifted it to his lips, laid a hand, flat on the upper-surface and quietly repeated the word.

"Zurschney."

The casket vibrated, and cracked slightly open along its middle axis. Michå slid the top and the bottom apart. He looked down on a collection of parchments inscribed with Yungan symbols.  

He lifted them out, catching a whiff of those flowers he'd seen in his recollection. Under the parchments he found an ornate band of ezûk. A masterful piece of two conjoined circles embedded with exquisite, yet small gyemants.  

The ring had the distinct hallmark of Talamani craftsmanship. His suspicion was confirmed once he recognised the secret Talami runes, inscribed along the inner edge.

He reached down to claim his reward, but it was impossible. Michå drew his hand back annoyed. It dawned on him that the runes were in fact a Talami protection spell, allowing only the owner access to it.  

He anxiously shook his head. This was nice and all, but wouldn't satisfy Jardun's greed for spoils. 

"Baszāg and Mennydorges! There must be more here," he muttered. 

As he got to his feet he was rudely reminded how his tall, Kezeti frame, was not compatible with the Yungan ship. 

"Ehscék's scrote!!"

He cried as his head rammed into a support timber.

"Aha! You dumb Szamar!!"  

Jardun laughed as he witnessed Michå's accident. 

"Leave that baszāging box and follow me. I've found their cargo."

Michå scrambled after him, continually ducking, so as not to crack his skull again. Thus, he did not see Jardun's blade till the pommel was sticking out his chest, and his left lung was collapsing. 

"Sorry ol' friend, but I'll not be baszāged around by the likes of you."

Michå didn't understand. His imagination fled the gruesome scene of his murder; returning him to that bustling market. There again was the old shopkeeper, and the quite lovely Yungan girl.  

He patted the crone's shoulder, smiled his charming Kezeti reaver's smile; bowed low before the girl and quietly exclaimed....

"Zurschney."