Githzerai monks

The old gith stared mournfully into his beer glass. It wasn't nearly empty, but still he didn't drink."I had nearly half of my growth when my eyes *knew* their first monk," he said to the air."What in Khalas did you just say?" demanded the purple-furred halfling sitting on the next stool over, sputtering out part of the contents of her sixth tankard. "'My eyes knew...?' By the all the horny screwing devas, say it in Planespeak, you sodding, pretentious ass! Gods, I hate giths."The graybeard's yellow-eyed gaze met hers coldly. The halfling gave him a rude gesture. With a sigh, he returned to his conversation with the more polite, if slightly smoggy, atmosphere.The githzerai continued. "When I first beheld him, I didn't *know* the stranger's path in life. His robes were of a cut not *known* to me, and of the color that Ich'od used to hide in dust. I *knew* he came from outside the city because of the broad-brimmed hat he used to shield his eyes from the madlight of the chaos beyond. I wanted, badly, to talk with him, to *know* what his guild was, but it is not polite to force conversation on a stranger who does not wish it."The halfling's eyes grew wide, then her brow furrowed as she tried to figure that out. "Who are you talking to again?" she asked. "'Cause I don't see no one else here."The githzerai ignored her. "I allowed my eyes to chase him for a few heartbeats, then ran off to join some friends in Gi'mari's Game with practice swords. It wasn't until later that a commotion in a public square drew our paths toward his."The stranger had produced a small figure from his robe, shaped like one of our people but of a race not *known* to me. Its blood flowed onto the crystalline streets of our city, attracted by the gravity we shaped for it. The stranger was shouting for a healer-anarch, so that his friend might *know* help."'Why should we help you?' a healer-anarch demanded. 'You are not *known* to us. You have not taken part in our hunts or our *rrakkma*. You live seperated from the People in wild Chaos, enslaved to your rules. Now you come to our people and demand we share healing with one not even of the People, as if you both were part of our community.'"The stranger's pupils grew large, and his face *knew* wrath. 'It is true that you do not *know* us, or you would not speak that way,' he said. 'We sequester ourselves that we may devote ourselves fully to *knowing* the pursuit of *rrakkma*, and our *rule*, the *rite of echoing pain*, is only a means to that goal. Our *rrakkma* hunts are as successful, and our protection of Limbo as vigilant, as any of yours. Now this halfling, my friend who fought bravely against a slaad who would have had me, and likely this community, *know* death, nearly *knows* death herself. I ask you, as fellow devotees of Zerthimon, to share healing with her."The healer-anarch said nothing, but walked away. The halfling died, and the stranger surrended her husk to the pits of growth. In time, our city began to better *know* the monastery from which the stranger had come, and began to share food, healing, and even *rrakkma*. The story of the halfling was preserved, and began to be *known* to us as a new phrase. Those who turn away fellow warriors because they are too far within themselves are said to have indulged in the folly of the healer-anarch, or to have let the halfling *know* death."He turned back toward his halfling neighbor, and caught her paying attention. She blinked. "What, just because I'm a halfling that horrible little story is supposed to impress me? Are you trying to get me to purge you of your sins? Did that even *happen*, of is it just one of the stupid addle-coved little parables you people pull out of your rectums in order to begin the hopeless task of trying to educate your empty little minds?" The githzerai started to speak, but she stopped him with a gesture, "No, I didn't give you permission to have a conversation with me yet. You keep talking to your friendly little air. I'm outta here." She jumped off the bar stool and walked outside, the flare of a portal taking her to parts unknown.The old githzerai stared into his glass for a while. "I would have liked to *know* you," he said softly, and took a sip.