The great feast at the end of Ramadan had begun, the fasting was over and a time of celebration begins. In the grand market place you overhear one such storyteller in the square talking of a great white walled city Arkesh it sits proudly in the bay of Arkesh Alhun, the sun shines down upon the city radiating its glory for all to see.
A place of trade in the finest of items, it is even said that some sellers are not all they seem! Tales of a beautiful toy horse gifted to a shah, was in fact a true wonder, It could gallop across the sky. It is rumored that it was made in Arkesh, just one of many wonders to be found there.
But a wonder that is rare, though not a wonder such as a galloping clockwork steed is that of the dream dust! A purse alone full of it is worth the dowry of one of the princesses of Baghdad!
The story teller himself sits grandly, listened keenly to by a crowd of over 100, a man in his fortieth moon, resplendent in his white silks tanned skin and piercing blue eyes. You feel the need to hear more of his tales, he talks of india and rubies the size of a childs head, and of china with a great wall built by the hands of small gods!
But he returns again to Arkesh and talks of the great white lotus’es that grow in the palace gardens, whose pollen is used to make the dream dust, of the bees that have no home in this world that travel from heaven itself to flower the beautiful blossoms. Whose honey is the sweetest in all of the world, but once tasted is like the bitterest of fruits as no matter how good or how much wine you drink you can never forget its taste!
His tales continue and you hear of palaces appearing in the deserts, of wild horsemen, beautiful green eyed maidens dancing that would make a blind man cry, and of the songs of the nightingales in the palaces of india!
Your mind is ablaze with wonderment at his tales, and of this dream dust!
Where is this city and how could one get some of this dust worth more than a thousand pearls!