Appearance

Height is 6'3", body build medium, with a natural leanness. His hands and feet are large in proportion to his frame. Memnos is tanned from many years in the sun. He tends to wear little clothing when by himself and enjoys sunning after swimming or bathing. Eyes are a light, clear gray. The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles or laughs. His hair, once light blonde, is now white. He would be the Earth equivalent of 50 years of age, that being longer on Gor. He wears his Scribe's robes almost exclusively and sandals for footwear. He always carries a long staff, which he is skilled in using but does not admit to it.

Behavior

Memnos enjoys talking to people and telling a good story. He is fascinated with people and does not hesitate to ask personal questions of total strangers. He is not critical of the differences of others and is willing to give them their due. His speech is always very learned and erudite. He is not a warrior and does not try to be, being a peaceable man and preferring to negotiate his way out of difficulties. He loves being a Scribe and has applied himself to every facet of it. He is a man who believes very deeply in love and usually hides that side deep within.

Skills

He is a philosopher, sociologist, storyteller, clerk, bookkeeper, tutor, negotiator, ambassador or emissary. He has skill in the making and maintaining of websites and webpages.

History

Part of my story is still a mystery, that of my birth and parentage. My first cognizant memories were at the age of about 4. My caretakers said I was an orphan. Over the next year, I was passed along several times, until I was abandoned on the stone steps of a tavern in the City of Ko-ro-ba. I do not know why I was not sold as a slave. It would have been a good decision. A straight-haired, tow-headed, boy with solemn light grey eyes, I awaited my fate on those steps, watching patrons enter and exit the tavern, and people flowing by in many shapes, sizes and colors.

A man with bushy brows and grizzled hair strolled by, but I did not mark him until later. Several hours passed and that same man returned, his business completed. He stopped to consider me with a piercing blue gaze under those bushy brows, moved to the steps and asked me who my parents were. I told him I did not know and was an orphan. He digested that, then took my hand and led me away.

This was the Scribe, Nicademus Imzadi. He took Me to his home and made me his personal servant and companion. I was given the name, Memnos Imzadi, the name of an ancestor of his family known to be a great adventurer. He had been the one who had established the family's fortune, for Nicademus was an affluent man, in addition to his professional calling. For the first time in my life, I had a good roof over my head, clothing without patches, tasty food to fill my belly, and a comfortable place to sleep.

Nicademus kept me close for safety's sake, he said. I soon learned it was because his son and only child of 15 years, Daemos, took exception to his father's waif. Whenever he could find me away from my benefactor, he would taunt and jeer at me about being his father's little boy and personal toy. I did not understand, at first, but soon came to. Nicademus had never made any amorous claims on me and comported himself as a father.

As time moved on, I gratefully learned anything my mentor was willing to teach me, performed any task he assigned. My quick intelligence and good memory encouraged him to teach me the skills of a Scribe, and, when I was old enough and skilled enough, recommended me to the guild. I was tested and passed with flying colors, making him very proud. Daemos, too, had become a Scribe but applied himself indifferently to it. The spoiled boy had grown into a mean, avaricious man. He was jealous of my enduring closeness to his father and sought ways of driving a wedge between us.

At the age of 16, Nicademus died. I entered his bedchamber to wake him in the usual routine and found him cold. A Physician was called to examine the body and he pronounced him to have died of a heart malfunction. I had little time to grieve before Daemos took control of his father's estate. The next day, I was summoned to him and told to leave, as there was no longer a place for me there. He handed me a staff and ordered the household to have nothing to do with me. I filled a pack with the most precious of my belongings and left.

During my wanderings, I learned Daemos had contracted an advantageous Companionship with one of the prominent families in Ko-ro-ba. Several years later, I heard his Companion, who discovered him with another Free Woman, had killed him. His properties revolved to his Companion, as per their contract.

I met the love of my life when I wandered into her village of Nkuru in the Ven Highlands of the Schendi north of the villages of Ukungu. I was journeying between the City of Schendi and the village of Shaba on the shores of Lake Shaba. I was negotiating a Companion contract between the Chief of Shaba, for his daughter, Wisa, and a rich Merchant of Schendi, Oscar Simm. I took it upon myself to explore the Highlands. Meshanga was a dusky beauty, the only daughter of six children. I could not keep my eyes from her, moving so that I could strike up converse. Her mien was as beautiful as her face and form. I left the next day hoping to purge her from my memory. But it was not to be. I dreamed of her every night, her features and voice haunting my heart.

When my business had been successfully completed, I returned to Nkuru to end my torment. Meshanga came running to me, eyes shining like ebony stars, face glowing with welcome. Her parents, Taba, her father, and Seneru, her mother, welcomed me into their home. It seemed their daughter had made her choice and they were eager to settle her. Our joining came soon after, and paradise lived in the eyes of my love. We stayed in Nkuru until my wanderlust overtook me, when we ventured forth together. I was hesitant to allow Meshanga with me, since I could not guarantee a home for her. She and her parents affirmed that there would always be a hut for us in Nkuru and to return safely.

We traveled through life together for five ecstatic years. On a visit to Nkuru, I was summoned away to begin negotiations on a merchant contract, when the village was attacked by raiders. Meshanga was killed in the raid, for she struggled when she was taken and the raider killed her rather than deal with her. I returned to find our home damaged and our parents grieving the loss of their daughter. My heart was torn asunder at the loss. I shouldered my pack and drifted away, in too much pain to be aware of danger to my person. For years, I wandered aimlessly, not caring for anything. I stayed away from settlements and haunted the jungles and highlands of the Schendi.

One night, Meshanga came to me in a dream to tell me she was well and waiting for me in the Cities of Dust. I was to come when I had finished my course in this life, but to live it well until that time. When I awoke the next morn, I felt as though a great burden had been lifted away. I picked up my life and wandered on…

Many years after, I visited the camp of Shadow Talon and met Haijin Mijurai, the Weaponsmith, and his lady, Cabushan Tieri, a Master Gemsmith. I spent two evenings with them and liked them on even that short acquaintance. After conducting several business arrangements, I returned to the camp to find they had moved away. And so, I followed them to the camp of Harigga. There I renewed our acquaintance and found other reasons to stay.