Welcome All to the Great Trótskarr Ãokv'kele Race!
It is once again the time when ZàÞça becomes the capital of adventurers of all ages and races! The old city, usually peacefully quiet in the low season, is again a beehive of activity of all sorts. Dubious merchants selling good luck charms, souvenirs and even what they are swearing are genuine Dëymosþan bones which will protect you against dangers (who would buy that, you ask? Well, the world is full of curiosities and many are collectors!). Imagine an old city carved out of the rock, yet so colorful, full of history and genuine relics, but also charlatans and mischievous Miphak thieves! A colorful bazaar filled with curious fruits and fungi, and all sorts of spices, and interesting foods the aroma of which is filling the air and making your stomach grumble. Imagine yourself, a weary traveler stepping out of the ship and letting your feet make decisions for you. Do you have enough eyes to take it all in? The air is fresh and the two suns are up, and you could swear that the wind is playing with your hair, enticing you upwards. You raise your head, and glimpse a magnificent temple high above the city, which inescapably makes you sigh for an unknown reason. The Goddess Bók-T'ak may favor you.
But you are here for a reason, the Race.
For a long time you have wanted to win this Event; this time, you are serious. Or maybe this is the first time you hear of it, by witnessing bets being placed at street corners and overhearing people speaking about it in taverns. It seems that this time there may be some high profile competitors involved as well, and wouldn’t that be a treat, to see a Greater Family or two bite the dust in the same way the poor do? You ask around, and are directed to a mysterious Merchant. A female, all dressed in red, her facial features hidden, her voice raspy but not disagreeable. Anyone can enter, she says, provided they have what it takes. There is a challenging tone in her voice, and you may respond heatedly, or keep your calm. But she is here to sell you what you ask.
The beasts behind her are impressive. Massive, and dangerous looking if you haven’t met an Ãokv'kele before. But pink or green, the creatures are used to the desert and peaceful enough. Take your pick, and you may even want to name your companion. After all, your lives will be tied together for the duration of the Race, and alone in the desert you may even start speaking with your mount on a regular basis. You buy supplies and then remember there were rumors of a special list of items which may help in the Race. Or maybe you are an old hand, and know already what you’d like? In any case, you have to ask the Merchant.
It is once again the time when ZàÞça becomes the capital of adventurers of all ages and races! The old city, usually peacefully quiet in the low season, is again a beehive of activity of all sorts. Dubious merchants selling good luck charms, souvenirs and even what they are swearing are genuine Dëymosþan bones which will protect you against dangers (who would buy that, you ask? Well, the world is full of curiosities and many are collectors!). Imagine an old city carved out of the rock, yet so colorful, full of history and genuine relics, but also charlatans and mischievous Miphak thieves! A colorful bazaar filled with curious fruits and fungi, and all sorts of spices, and interesting foods the aroma of which is filling the air and making your stomach grumble. Imagine yourself, a weary traveler stepping out of the ship and letting your feet make decisions for you. Do you have enough eyes to take it all in? The air is fresh and the two suns are up, and you could swear that the wind is playing with your hair, enticing you upwards. You raise your head, and glimpse a magnificent temple high above the city, which inescapably makes you sigh for an unknown reason. The Goddess Bók-T'ak may favor you.
But you are here for a reason, the Race.
For a long time you have wanted to win this Event; this time, you are serious. Or maybe this is the first time you hear of it, by witnessing bets being placed at street corners and overhearing people speaking about it in taverns. It seems that this time there may be some high profile competitors involved as well, and wouldn’t that be a treat, to see a Greater Family or two bite the dust in the same way the poor do? You ask around, and are directed to a mysterious Merchant. A female, all dressed in red, her facial features hidden, her voice raspy but not disagreeable. Anyone can enter, she says, provided they have what it takes. There is a challenging tone in her voice, and you may respond heatedly, or keep your calm. But she is here to sell you what you ask.
The beasts behind her are impressive. Massive, and dangerous looking if you haven’t met an Ãokv'kele before. But pink or green, the creatures are used to the desert and peaceful enough. Take your pick, and you may even want to name your companion. After all, your lives will be tied together for the duration of the Race, and alone in the desert you may even start speaking with your mount on a regular basis. You buy supplies and then remember there were rumors of a special list of items which may help in the Race. Or maybe you are an old hand, and know already what you’d like? In any case, you have to ask the Merchant.
With his pockets full of pearls, a belly full of bravery, and a dash of stupidity, Çelik approached the Merchant once the opportunity rose. Ever since he was a child he has day dreamed about being in this race, but never thought he would be the type to actually participate, but today that would change.
"Provided that I have what it takes?"He said in response to her ominous threat."I have pearls and a lack of self control so I think I have what it takes, so if I could get the...that thing."He said pointing to the Bowl Needles and IÞ'clet leaves. He snapped his finger a few times as he tried to remember what they were called before he had that aha look on his face."The Bowl Needles and IÞ'clet! Thats right. And can I also get myself that adorable snake there."Celik said as he would be happy to have a pet with him on the trip. The ability to detect poisons was also a bonus. He had to think a bit hard about his next choice, and even though this land was his home, he wanted a map, because he knows this land good enough to understand that getting lost is a real danger no matter how well you know the place."I will take that map too. If you have some dried Tzlivy jerky for the travel I will about 5 steaks, 7 Hurtulj fruit, and 40 feet of rope. So uh, do I get my mount here or-"He was saying before he caught the eyes of a light green Ãokv'kele among the animals."Oh my this one is..."He said with a smile as he slowly approached it and petted the bottom of his chin."This one is beautiful, can I take it?"Seeing the magnificent beast flooded him with memories of riding one with his Yógra from their little village all the way to this city to sell their goods. Thankfully, with very little bartering, he was able to take the Ãokv'kele along with him. He was almost sad that he more so renting it then he was owning it, as he knew once the race was done he would have to return to his ship, and leave the poor thing behind. So he just had to make their time last. For the record, he unofficially dubbed it "Chippy"
So the table was set, he had a lightweight, yet useful set of items on him, and had his faithful mount. But he did not want to do it alone, so he needed a partner. And it would't take long at all before he found exactly what he was looking for...
"Provided that I have what it takes?"He said in response to her ominous threat."I have pearls and a lack of self control so I think I have what it takes, so if I could get the...that thing."He said pointing to the Bowl Needles and IÞ'clet leaves. He snapped his finger a few times as he tried to remember what they were called before he had that aha look on his face."The Bowl Needles and IÞ'clet! Thats right. And can I also get myself that adorable snake there."Celik said as he would be happy to have a pet with him on the trip. The ability to detect poisons was also a bonus. He had to think a bit hard about his next choice, and even though this land was his home, he wanted a map, because he knows this land good enough to understand that getting lost is a real danger no matter how well you know the place."I will take that map too. If you have some dried Tzlivy jerky for the travel I will about 5 steaks, 7 Hurtulj fruit, and 40 feet of rope. So uh, do I get my mount here or-"He was saying before he caught the eyes of a light green Ãokv'kele among the animals."Oh my this one is..."He said with a smile as he slowly approached it and petted the bottom of his chin."This one is beautiful, can I take it?"Seeing the magnificent beast flooded him with memories of riding one with his Yógra from their little village all the way to this city to sell their goods. Thankfully, with very little bartering, he was able to take the Ãokv'kele along with him. He was almost sad that he more so renting it then he was owning it, as he knew once the race was done he would have to return to his ship, and leave the poor thing behind. So he just had to make their time last. For the record, he unofficially dubbed it "Chippy"
So the table was set, he had a lightweight, yet useful set of items on him, and had his faithful mount. But he did not want to do it alone, so he needed a partner. And it would't take long at all before he found exactly what he was looking for...
"Stop that, you great lout!" The voice rang loud and clear, a pitch or two above the general noise of the bazaar. If someone were to raise their head and look around they may identify the source in a petite Khah' female struggling to lead an overly affectionate pink-colored Ãokv'kele, while also attempting to stuff her purchases in two large satchels on either side of the great lizard.
Fey'Kat had just finished acquiring her new pirate wardrobe and customizing it to her tastes, and was looking around for a ship when her attention had been caught by whispers of the Race. Intrigued, she made herself invisible hiding behind a barrel, listening in. "I wish I had that much P’ee K’äh", an old human was bitterly complaining. "I wouldn't waste it on that deadly Race though. Much better uses. You would leave it alone if you had a smart bone in your body, boy." The boy in question was a Khah' male of about her age, who clearly was not listening to the old sailor. "I will win it someday and be rich. I heard that this time one of the Zûtran may be entering. Imagine if I were to help out somehow. I'll be set for life. Isn't that worth a little risk, old man? Or would you rather I ended up like you?"
The redhead had frowned, and went further to investigate. From tavern to merchant stall, she learned bit by bit that the Race was a regular event where a lot of people would be competing, that even to finish it was very prestigious and that yes, crossing the desert on an Ãokv'kele in a cut-throat environment was part of it. But she didn't pay a lot of attention to that last part. Hadn't she taken a lot of risks already? Wasn't she looking for adventure? This was the perfect opportunity to build up her resume. If she finished it and could prove it (she already dreamed herself pulling some sort of odd artifact that would make people instantly look in awe), nobody would be able to imply that she was not good enough or not strong enough to explore the new continent as well. Determined, she had made her way to the Merchant.
The encounter with the mysterious woman left her with a pink lizard she decided to name Hk’täs, sweet and deadly, like the fruit she used to crave as a child, and still did now. On top of that, she haggled for food and supplies to fill her satchels which were now ready to burst (not even counting her own talismans and focus stones she always carried). Finally, she chose Weapons (a lovely knife which would work very well as a souvenir after the Race ended), Hurtulj and a Map. She was ready. Now, if only Hk’täs would sit still while she consulted the Map and figured out where she was supposed to go.
Fey'Kat had just finished acquiring her new pirate wardrobe and customizing it to her tastes, and was looking around for a ship when her attention had been caught by whispers of the Race. Intrigued, she made herself invisible hiding behind a barrel, listening in. "I wish I had that much P’ee K’äh", an old human was bitterly complaining. "I wouldn't waste it on that deadly Race though. Much better uses. You would leave it alone if you had a smart bone in your body, boy." The boy in question was a Khah' male of about her age, who clearly was not listening to the old sailor. "I will win it someday and be rich. I heard that this time one of the Zûtran may be entering. Imagine if I were to help out somehow. I'll be set for life. Isn't that worth a little risk, old man? Or would you rather I ended up like you?"
The redhead had frowned, and went further to investigate. From tavern to merchant stall, she learned bit by bit that the Race was a regular event where a lot of people would be competing, that even to finish it was very prestigious and that yes, crossing the desert on an Ãokv'kele in a cut-throat environment was part of it. But she didn't pay a lot of attention to that last part. Hadn't she taken a lot of risks already? Wasn't she looking for adventure? This was the perfect opportunity to build up her resume. If she finished it and could prove it (she already dreamed herself pulling some sort of odd artifact that would make people instantly look in awe), nobody would be able to imply that she was not good enough or not strong enough to explore the new continent as well. Determined, she had made her way to the Merchant.
The encounter with the mysterious woman left her with a pink lizard she decided to name Hk’täs, sweet and deadly, like the fruit she used to crave as a child, and still did now. On top of that, she haggled for food and supplies to fill her satchels which were now ready to burst (not even counting her own talismans and focus stones she always carried). Finally, she chose Weapons (a lovely knife which would work very well as a souvenir after the Race ended), Hurtulj and a Map. She was ready. Now, if only Hk’täs would sit still while she consulted the Map and figured out where she was supposed to go.
Çelik took his materials to Chippy and loaded everything he could on him. Thinking back on it he wished that he had gotten something to help cover his face in the case if a sandstorm, but when he turned to the merchant there were already more people stockpiled up. Oh well, if all else fails he can take his coat and refashion it to be used as some kind of mask. He looked around the crowd, hoping to see somebody that might want to join him. He saw people from all walks of life, tall and broad men that looked strong and capable, skillful sword fighters that could be useful in a fight, men who seemed keen on adventuring and navigation and-
As he searched he heard a woman shouting to her Ãokv'kele. His eyes darted to see the woman struggling to pull along her mount. He stood there in a bit if a wondering daze for a moment too long. She had a lovely set of red hair and was distinctively a Khah' woman. Two of his greatest weaknesses.
Ignoring all the broad and strong men and warriors around him, he gently approached the woman with Chippy close behind him.
"Excuse me."He said as he gave her a formal ZàÞça greeting."Need some help? She might be stressed out by this crowd, sometimes you just need to comfort them a little, the affection will go a long way too."He said while he gently petted her snout. He hoped his advice would come on handy, but she seemed to have picked up a rather honorary looking one. It was always the pink ones too."Are you joining the race? I just got done grabbing my equipment."He asked while he waited for her answer.
"If you are interested, I was hoping to partner up with someone. This place is my home, and I know how to navigate decently well through the land and how to handle all its hazards. I would appreciate having someone to watch my back and talk too. And you seem like you can handle yourself decently enough."The man said with a calm and confident demeanor, remaining oblivious to the amount of people who seemed far better fit for the race, atleast at face value. He knew the woman probably had plenty up her sleeve to make her think she could take on the challenge. Çelik seemed a bit more stable and charming about his mannerisms and tone, at least far more then a certain group of pirates he ran into a little bit before this."Oh aaaand I have this X'miasxu I called him Lankey. Is he not the cutest."He said as let the snake wrap around his wrist as he admired its beauty. And of course, no matter how charming he could be, little things like that will always manage to slip through
"I'm Çelik by the way. And what a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."
As he searched he heard a woman shouting to her Ãokv'kele. His eyes darted to see the woman struggling to pull along her mount. He stood there in a bit if a wondering daze for a moment too long. She had a lovely set of red hair and was distinctively a Khah' woman. Two of his greatest weaknesses.
Ignoring all the broad and strong men and warriors around him, he gently approached the woman with Chippy close behind him.
"Excuse me."He said as he gave her a formal ZàÞça greeting."Need some help? She might be stressed out by this crowd, sometimes you just need to comfort them a little, the affection will go a long way too."He said while he gently petted her snout. He hoped his advice would come on handy, but she seemed to have picked up a rather honorary looking one. It was always the pink ones too."Are you joining the race? I just got done grabbing my equipment."He asked while he waited for her answer.
"If you are interested, I was hoping to partner up with someone. This place is my home, and I know how to navigate decently well through the land and how to handle all its hazards. I would appreciate having someone to watch my back and talk too. And you seem like you can handle yourself decently enough."The man said with a calm and confident demeanor, remaining oblivious to the amount of people who seemed far better fit for the race, atleast at face value. He knew the woman probably had plenty up her sleeve to make her think she could take on the challenge. Çelik seemed a bit more stable and charming about his mannerisms and tone, at least far more then a certain group of pirates he ran into a little bit before this."Oh aaaand I have this X'miasxu I called him Lankey. Is he not the cutest."He said as let the snake wrap around his wrist as he admired its beauty. And of course, no matter how charming he could be, little things like that will always manage to slip through
"I'm Çelik by the way. And what a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."
The petite redhead was much too concerned with her own struggles to notice the man at first. It was only when he started to pet Hk’täs, somehow managing to calm down the restless beast, that she started to pay attention to his words, and raised her Şzein-colored eyes to take a good look, up and down. A human, not bad looking either; maybe a local then? She had been in ZàÞça for some time now, and had learned to recognize the suntanned look of the people. She smiled broadly. "Well hello there! Yes, I was about to start, but first I wanted to take a good look at the Map. Worth having a clear idea, don't you think?" She did not mention that it had taken her a while to make any sense of the damn thing, and still wasn't sure where the Race was supposed to start from.
"My name is Fey'Kat and I guess we could team up." Her tone was slightly intrigued, but also a tad suspicious. "Less boring this way, at least." Her copper-colored tail twirled lazily around her legs, and she attempted her best to look the part of an adventurer. Relaxed. Knowledgeable, confident. She perked up, however, at his next words. A local indeed, if he called the place home, and assuming that his offer to partner up was genuine (she remembered vaguely that she had heard stories of bandits and sabotage in two distinct taverns so far), someone she could potentially benefit from, in more ways than one. After all, he surely knew people around the city, and when the Race was over, could introduce her to someone who had a ship and was up for the expedition towards the new continent. "Çelik. Hmm. The name doesn't sound familiar, but then again I used to live in Fawzia-Kedet and Püertagœ before. This continent" she gestured around "is still new to me, although I am quite keen on discovering its secrets and magic." Her eyes lit for a brief moment at the mention of magic, but only if the man was paying close attention he would have noticed anything different.
"Since it's your home, Çelik, do you have an idea of how long it'll take to reach Ñabivtzi?" She frowned a little in thought, looking back at the Map for a brief moment before her gaze was caught by the X'miasxu, and her nose scrunched up a little in puzzlement at the sight at the tiny snake. "Not that it's not cute, but it is a little unusual to have a snake on your person, don't you think? Is it poisonous?"
"My name is Fey'Kat and I guess we could team up." Her tone was slightly intrigued, but also a tad suspicious. "Less boring this way, at least." Her copper-colored tail twirled lazily around her legs, and she attempted her best to look the part of an adventurer. Relaxed. Knowledgeable, confident. She perked up, however, at his next words. A local indeed, if he called the place home, and assuming that his offer to partner up was genuine (she remembered vaguely that she had heard stories of bandits and sabotage in two distinct taverns so far), someone she could potentially benefit from, in more ways than one. After all, he surely knew people around the city, and when the Race was over, could introduce her to someone who had a ship and was up for the expedition towards the new continent. "Çelik. Hmm. The name doesn't sound familiar, but then again I used to live in Fawzia-Kedet and Püertagœ before. This continent" she gestured around "is still new to me, although I am quite keen on discovering its secrets and magic." Her eyes lit for a brief moment at the mention of magic, but only if the man was paying close attention he would have noticed anything different.
"Since it's your home, Çelik, do you have an idea of how long it'll take to reach Ñabivtzi?" She frowned a little in thought, looking back at the Map for a brief moment before her gaze was caught by the X'miasxu, and her nose scrunched up a little in puzzlement at the sight at the tiny snake. "Not that it's not cute, but it is a little unusual to have a snake on your person, don't you think? Is it poisonous?"
"If we hit the sands and run as fast as we can Ñabivtzi shouldn't be that much of a trek. The real problems will arrive when we have to go to Makŭs-vibûm and back. Very uh...well unruly lands in some parts. The map seems to take us to parts I remember my parents explicitly trying to avoid so that all should be interesting." He said in answer to her question.
He heard her question the nuances of having the snake on him, which he was proud to answer any and questions on. He was no animal expert, but he had an affinity for the scaly friends in the lands."No, no, he is entirely harmless. In fact, he helps to detect poison, so as long as we have him, no one's going to be able to pull a nasty trick on our food."
Çelik brought over Chippy so he could get acquainted with the fellow Ãokv'kele that would be joining them on their journey, watching as Chippy seemed a bit infatuated with the pink Ãokv'kele the same way Çelik had. The lizard amusingly fluttered its eyes a little and cooed at his crush.",Heh..., okay, buddy, don't take it too far...you need to take her to a date first."Çelik said to him while he stepped up on the mount. "I will admit it is different being in this race instead of sitting passively by as an onlooker. My brothers and I would play pretend like we were in the race and fantasized about having the courage to go, but now the danger is real, and we are going straight in it. I have heard if terrible things are happening to the racers, the kind that makes you thankful they died to end the suffering. Eh, don't let that deture you though las. Plenty of riders make it back alive, if you got a good head on your shoulders and didn't do too much stupid, the worse you have to worry about is losing the race."He said, trying to throw in a dose of optimism.
"So if you aren't from here, then my I acquire where you did come from? Surely some sort of Paradise were all kinds of beautiful creatures such as." He said as he gestured, said as hand to her. "This one?" Çelik was quick to get as much talk in as he could before they must depart, knowing that conversation may be hard to keep while in the run
He heard her question the nuances of having the snake on him, which he was proud to answer any and questions on. He was no animal expert, but he had an affinity for the scaly friends in the lands."No, no, he is entirely harmless. In fact, he helps to detect poison, so as long as we have him, no one's going to be able to pull a nasty trick on our food."
Çelik brought over Chippy so he could get acquainted with the fellow Ãokv'kele that would be joining them on their journey, watching as Chippy seemed a bit infatuated with the pink Ãokv'kele the same way Çelik had. The lizard amusingly fluttered its eyes a little and cooed at his crush.",Heh..., okay, buddy, don't take it too far...you need to take her to a date first."Çelik said to him while he stepped up on the mount. "I will admit it is different being in this race instead of sitting passively by as an onlooker. My brothers and I would play pretend like we were in the race and fantasized about having the courage to go, but now the danger is real, and we are going straight in it. I have heard if terrible things are happening to the racers, the kind that makes you thankful they died to end the suffering. Eh, don't let that deture you though las. Plenty of riders make it back alive, if you got a good head on your shoulders and didn't do too much stupid, the worse you have to worry about is losing the race."He said, trying to throw in a dose of optimism.
"So if you aren't from here, then my I acquire where you did come from? Surely some sort of Paradise were all kinds of beautiful creatures such as." He said as he gestured, said as hand to her. "This one?" Çelik was quick to get as much talk in as he could before they must depart, knowing that conversation may be hard to keep while in the run
Bets, or so it seemed. Individuals of all creeds and colors seeming to converge on bookies, money lenders, and perhaps more reputable hagglers of stakes and margins, the area seemed abuzz with activity of the sketchy and greedy variety. That being the indicator that something of interest was afoot, that ‘language’ that transcended borders, languages, and creeds, gambling was a welcomed familiarity in a…fairly foreign land…
Since having arrived in the city’s port via a fishing trawler she had…reappropriated for her own means, there had been an odd air of ‘foreignness’ to everything. From the strange characters forming the city’s name of Zapca, or however it was in the native tongue, Naomi at least felt some familiarity with much of the spoken language used here and there. Cultural words always sounding odd to new ears, that the general gist of conversation was discernable if not wholly relatable was a minor blessing (having been to ports where the language had about as much in common with her own as the sun has with the moon). On that matter, of odd and disjointed things, was it her eyes or were there not one but two suns overhead? A trick of the eye or a side effect of too long at sea perhaps, but everything about this place reeked of the exotic and…alien. From the scents of the fruits at the stands, to the look of garb and relics here and there, there was an unknown tint to most of what she saw as she walked through the bazaar-like area.
‘The Race’ having been on more whispered tongues than anything else, at least in terms of what verbiage was understandable to Naomi’s faintly pointed ears that hid beneath her jet-black head of hair, with an elaborate building, a temple perhaps, adding an artistic flair to the city itself, she meandered around in search of more news about the event. Races, sports, all manner of competitions really offering a chance at riches if not lively adventures, it is a woman in red that seemed to be selling wares that eventually caught her attention. Unable to help but ‘accidentally’ overhear that the race was available to any, there was a small agreeable smirk that slipped across Naomi’s features. ‘No buy-in…does that mean only dolts join, or that the rewards on offer are paltry at best? Funding for any event has to have some source…some revenue stream…or maybe the prodigious betting seeming to go on funds the event itself…’
The merchant, or so she turned out to be, at least offered some advice but did not seem to be overly helpful apart from agreeing to settle in exchange for a few gold coins on parting with one of the female mounts, a map, some purpled fruit called hurtulge or something, and some hallucinogenic powder from some desert creature in a small tied up bag. Slipping the map, fruit, and powder into a satchel hanging from her shoulder, the reptilian mount which the woman pointed to, a gawdy pink thing with rather pointy tusks (supposedly one of the females), was far from an enticing beast to ride…but given the climate, perhaps preferable…
Meandering over to the beast, keeping her thoughts to herself and only speaking to the red-clad merchant thus far, Naomi had more hopes in finding riches or enjoyable adventures along the course of the race than winning it herself. Examining the saddle of the creature, along with the reins, it seemed…similar enough to a horse for her to find riding such familiar to a degree, but any skilled rider might very well get much more from their beast than any ‘new’ to such a thing.
Since having arrived in the city’s port via a fishing trawler she had…reappropriated for her own means, there had been an odd air of ‘foreignness’ to everything. From the strange characters forming the city’s name of Zapca, or however it was in the native tongue, Naomi at least felt some familiarity with much of the spoken language used here and there. Cultural words always sounding odd to new ears, that the general gist of conversation was discernable if not wholly relatable was a minor blessing (having been to ports where the language had about as much in common with her own as the sun has with the moon). On that matter, of odd and disjointed things, was it her eyes or were there not one but two suns overhead? A trick of the eye or a side effect of too long at sea perhaps, but everything about this place reeked of the exotic and…alien. From the scents of the fruits at the stands, to the look of garb and relics here and there, there was an unknown tint to most of what she saw as she walked through the bazaar-like area.
‘The Race’ having been on more whispered tongues than anything else, at least in terms of what verbiage was understandable to Naomi’s faintly pointed ears that hid beneath her jet-black head of hair, with an elaborate building, a temple perhaps, adding an artistic flair to the city itself, she meandered around in search of more news about the event. Races, sports, all manner of competitions really offering a chance at riches if not lively adventures, it is a woman in red that seemed to be selling wares that eventually caught her attention. Unable to help but ‘accidentally’ overhear that the race was available to any, there was a small agreeable smirk that slipped across Naomi’s features. ‘No buy-in…does that mean only dolts join, or that the rewards on offer are paltry at best? Funding for any event has to have some source…some revenue stream…or maybe the prodigious betting seeming to go on funds the event itself…’
The merchant, or so she turned out to be, at least offered some advice but did not seem to be overly helpful apart from agreeing to settle in exchange for a few gold coins on parting with one of the female mounts, a map, some purpled fruit called hurtulge or something, and some hallucinogenic powder from some desert creature in a small tied up bag. Slipping the map, fruit, and powder into a satchel hanging from her shoulder, the reptilian mount which the woman pointed to, a gawdy pink thing with rather pointy tusks (supposedly one of the females), was far from an enticing beast to ride…but given the climate, perhaps preferable…
Meandering over to the beast, keeping her thoughts to herself and only speaking to the red-clad merchant thus far, Naomi had more hopes in finding riches or enjoyable adventures along the course of the race than winning it herself. Examining the saddle of the creature, along with the reins, it seemed…similar enough to a horse for her to find riding such familiar to a degree, but any skilled rider might very well get much more from their beast than any ‘new’ to such a thing.
The petite redhead nodded her head in what she thought would be a thoughtful manner. Ñabivtzi then, was within easy reach, and there she remembered that the Merchant had offered a chance to restock some supplies. It wasn't clear what the man meant by "unruly lands", but if Fey'Kat had ever listened to her parents, she wouldn't be where she was now, so she immediately dismissed those concerns. "Your parents must not be great adventurers, then?" her small smile showed a hint of empathy. "I am also the first in my family, don't worry. My folks are merchants, and my brothers as well."
Her eyebrows raised a little at the explanation of the tiny snake, and she moved closer to examine it. Her eyes were wide, taking in every little detail of the patterned colorful scales, and when she raised her gaze back towards Çelik they were sparkling with interest. "Well then, that changes things. A very useful creature indeed." Another advantage in partnering up with the man, if he told the truth. Although she had brought her own food, and also had her protective talismans, Fey'Kat knew that a great many things could be poisonous. She was bold, but not so foolish as to forget that.
However, all thoughts of dangers and poisons disappeared quickly from her head and she laughed a little as the two Ãokv'kele made friends, and she jumped on Hk’täs as well, leaning forward and petting the snout of the great lizard. "Want to have your own fun, I see." Turning towards Çelik, she almost rolled her eyes at all his talk of doom and gloom, and tried not to take it personally. The man didn't know her, and was probably reminiscing about himself as a child, and got stuck in that mindset. However, if this persisted, and Çelik proved not to be so useful, she could simply move on and let him fall behind. "Well, life is a great adventure, no?"
She giggled a little at his flattery. Either the man was a very talented con artist, or ... . "I was born in Uhwang, and it may seem like a dangerous paradise to you maybe. Where I come from, stranger, beautiful also means dangerous. But what's life without a little danger, no?" Now laughing to the fullest, she leaned again to pet Hk’täs on her snout as the man had showed earlier. "Since you know the way, I suggest you lead. My guess is that this great lout would follow. Let's see how fast they can move once we get out of the city."
Her eyebrows raised a little at the explanation of the tiny snake, and she moved closer to examine it. Her eyes were wide, taking in every little detail of the patterned colorful scales, and when she raised her gaze back towards Çelik they were sparkling with interest. "Well then, that changes things. A very useful creature indeed." Another advantage in partnering up with the man, if he told the truth. Although she had brought her own food, and also had her protective talismans, Fey'Kat knew that a great many things could be poisonous. She was bold, but not so foolish as to forget that.
However, all thoughts of dangers and poisons disappeared quickly from her head and she laughed a little as the two Ãokv'kele made friends, and she jumped on Hk’täs as well, leaning forward and petting the snout of the great lizard. "Want to have your own fun, I see." Turning towards Çelik, she almost rolled her eyes at all his talk of doom and gloom, and tried not to take it personally. The man didn't know her, and was probably reminiscing about himself as a child, and got stuck in that mindset. However, if this persisted, and Çelik proved not to be so useful, she could simply move on and let him fall behind. "Well, life is a great adventure, no?"
She giggled a little at his flattery. Either the man was a very talented con artist, or ... . "I was born in Uhwang, and it may seem like a dangerous paradise to you maybe. Where I come from, stranger, beautiful also means dangerous. But what's life without a little danger, no?" Now laughing to the fullest, she leaned again to pet Hk’täs on her snout as the man had showed earlier. "Since you know the way, I suggest you lead. My guess is that this great lout would follow. Let's see how fast they can move once we get out of the city."
The dark Khah' looked doubtfully at the Merchant, shook her head a little, then she carefully counted the right amount of P’ee K’äh. She wasn't herself quite certain how she had let herself be roped into such an adventure, and once again in ZàÞça. All she knew was that a bet was a bet, and that several Red Dreams may have been involved. Once again, In'Anna was clad not in her usual fare, but in Z'sa'Ză-'Bäa fashion, which freed her arms and legs, and also showed off her body tattoos. She had selected to keep wearing one of her talismans, however, enchanted by herself for protection, and had tied up her long hair carefully. If ZàÞça was hot, she expected the desert to be scorching.
In addition to the Ãokv'kele, a green one which looked impulsive enough to match her temper, the young jewelry-maker had decided to buy a bow and arrows, her time in the Mountains having allowed her a little familiarity with such weapons, Bowl Needles and IÞ'clet leaves, as well as a Map. She had a tendency to get into all sorts of scrapes even in a normal Hour, but a full Tam'nýer—a’ day in such a dangerous environment would certainly leave her worse for the wear. Not for the first time, she considered abandoning, but pride was one of her key traits, together with a fervent wish not to become the subject of the rumor mill in Püertagœ.
Besides, if she finished the Race (she didn't think of winning), she would design and sell a bunch of new talismans and jewelry inspired by the desert. For In'Anna, the event was much less about winning, and more about staying alive (and preferably as healthy as possible). If only she could find a few like-minded people, she thought. The dark Khah' half-breed had already planned her strategy for the first segment of the Race after researching the matter thoroughly: she would push ahead as fast as she could to Ñabivtzi, and there she would attach herself to a group for the crossing of the most difficult segment. Hopefully, it would be enough.
The dark-haired female didn't project a very welcoming presence, very far from her usual self trying to sell her jewelry. Face clouded and gaze narrowed, she would have looked armed and dangerous if one didn't take account of her small stature. Inside, she was very much afraid; she had spotted several mean-looking males, and she was aware that - to them - she presented an easy target. Her supplies and her Ãokv'kele also. She walked with purpose, and lost herself in the meandering streets, taking advantage of the slight familiarity. Having learned from experience to secure all her supplies and possessions most carefully, she then pulled out some food for a lonely Miphak she spotted hiding in a tree, trying to entice the small monkey to come closer.
In addition to the Ãokv'kele, a green one which looked impulsive enough to match her temper, the young jewelry-maker had decided to buy a bow and arrows, her time in the Mountains having allowed her a little familiarity with such weapons, Bowl Needles and IÞ'clet leaves, as well as a Map. She had a tendency to get into all sorts of scrapes even in a normal Hour, but a full Tam'nýer—a’ day in such a dangerous environment would certainly leave her worse for the wear. Not for the first time, she considered abandoning, but pride was one of her key traits, together with a fervent wish not to become the subject of the rumor mill in Püertagœ.
Besides, if she finished the Race (she didn't think of winning), she would design and sell a bunch of new talismans and jewelry inspired by the desert. For In'Anna, the event was much less about winning, and more about staying alive (and preferably as healthy as possible). If only she could find a few like-minded people, she thought. The dark Khah' half-breed had already planned her strategy for the first segment of the Race after researching the matter thoroughly: she would push ahead as fast as she could to Ñabivtzi, and there she would attach herself to a group for the crossing of the most difficult segment. Hopefully, it would be enough.
The dark-haired female didn't project a very welcoming presence, very far from her usual self trying to sell her jewelry. Face clouded and gaze narrowed, she would have looked armed and dangerous if one didn't take account of her small stature. Inside, she was very much afraid; she had spotted several mean-looking males, and she was aware that - to them - she presented an easy target. Her supplies and her Ãokv'kele also. She walked with purpose, and lost herself in the meandering streets, taking advantage of the slight familiarity. Having learned from experience to secure all her supplies and possessions most carefully, she then pulled out some food for a lonely Miphak she spotted hiding in a tree, trying to entice the small monkey to come closer.
Take a job on a merchant ship, they’d said! Now that The Wastes had been secured, it would be the best coin on offer, they’d said.
Not for the first time this week or even this month, Rush found herself shaking a mental fist at her old comrades back home. Oh, she’d planned to take their advice with a hefty pile of salt of course, until she’d seen the pay on offer. What kind of fool would turn down that much coin? Just a single run with one of the heavily laden merchant ships would be enough to set her up for life twice over! The threat of violence and loss of life hardly even gave her pause. She was a sell-sword, after all. Running security for desert caravans was surely more deadly than a voyage across a body of water, right? How much water could there possibly be?
It had turned out so much worse than Rush ever could have imagined. It turned out that there was far more water than her sand-addled mind could ever have conceived of and unlike the dunes of the Wastes, the waves were not content to shift inch by inch but rather tossed the merchant galleon violently as the vessel made its way toward a distant destination that the red-skinned woman had waved off as unimportant. If she’d cared enough to recall it, she probably wouldn’t be where she was now but there wasn’t a whole lot of point in dwelling on past mistakes. One terrible storm and an ill-timed swell was all it took to sink the ship and all her hopes of riches along with it.
Through some strange stroke of fate, she’d survived, clinging to a bit of flotsam like one of the barnacles that had stuck to the galleon’s hull. Rescued by a foreign ship, Rush now found herself on unfamiliar soil with little in the way of options to return home. Safe passage from Trótskarr back to her homeland was going to require going through several ports of call, each taking their share of fees along the way. So it was that she’d found herself taking jobs at the docks and scraping together enough of the local currency to build herself a little security. She’d already saved enough for passage through the first leg of her journey home and yet she still hadn’t booked passage.
The truth of it was that the place was starting to grow on her. Sure, it was a bit strange in comparison to home but welcoming in its own way. There was no shortage of work to be had. No shortage of coin to be earned—or won—if one scratched a bit at the luxurious surface of the port town of Zàpça. Rush was particularly good at finding ways to survive and at first she’d been happy to enjoy the kind of security enjoyed by those who lived in the city. It had only been a short while, but already she was starting to feel that itch in the soles of her feet that suggested it was time to move on. Or perhaps to simply seek out something more akin to her normal line of work as a mercenary.
She ignored the whispers of the Ãokv’kele race the first few times she’d heard them circulating through the local watering holes and back alleys. She’d caught tidbits of information here and there that started to really flesh out the magnitude of what was involved. This wasn’t just about bragging rights—it was about reputation. That was something she was sorely lacking as a stranger in a strange land. Back home she might have had her pick of work on reputation alone but here? She was just an unfamiliar face with a heavy accent that put the locals ill at ease as often as not.
So it was that Rush stood now, having counted out her P’ee K’äh to the woman in the red robe whose face was so deep in shadow she might as well not have one at all. Everyone called the robed woman “Merchant” but it seemed like no one could agree about any other details, some even spouting the most ridiculous of tales possible about goddesses, the Great Families of Tam’nyer-a and all sorts of other nonsense. Rush didn’t believe a word of it, of course. That didn’t stop her from staring in between transactions, of course, Rush’s amber eyes peering into the void where the merchant’s face ought to have been.
“That one,” the woman indicated with a rough gesture in the direction of a large, red male. The beast in question looked marginally more alert than the others in the corral, a trait she hoped was an indication that he would serve her well in the coming days rather than an interest in making a meal out of her. The hulking lizards were still a bit of an incongruence to the mind of the woman who’d spent her whole life trying to avoid being eaten by the larger residents of her homeland.
“You’re red,” she murmured in thickly accented C’ërod to the Ãokv’kele. “Like me. Let’s hope that makes us a good pair, hmm?”
It was as good a reason as any to make the choice, she supposed. Her colouring had been something of a signature back home. Perhaps that would end up working here as well. Only time would tell.
Atop the expected food and water, Rush made a few extra purchased from the merchants wares, stopping to ask about each in great detail before making up her mind. A map seemed like an important choice even if Rush couldn’t actually read the flowing script that labelled most of it. That was easily remedied by pulling it open right there in the shop and demanding to have each location of importance pointed out to her so she could memorize them later when she had a spare moment. The other items were a little more difficult. Rush’s ears were still ringing with tales she’d heard of poison, theft and bandits in the previous races. The bandits were of far less concern to a seasoned mercenary like herself but poison wasn’t something she knew very much about. Especially foreign ones that she’d be even less likely to identify. When the merchant described the abilities of the X’miasxu snake to her, Rush’s eyes lit with interest.
“That sounds useful! As does the knife”
She’d eyed the bow and arrows but her taste in weaponry tended to lean away from missiles. Honestly, she would have given just about anything to have her glaive back in her hands but the folk here in Trótskarr seemed not to favour that particular weapon as far as she could tell. She’d yet to come across a smith or shop that had a decent replacement for the one she’d lost. Instead she’d had to settle for a spear that she’d hacked down to an approximation of her favourite.
Not for the first time this week or even this month, Rush found herself shaking a mental fist at her old comrades back home. Oh, she’d planned to take their advice with a hefty pile of salt of course, until she’d seen the pay on offer. What kind of fool would turn down that much coin? Just a single run with one of the heavily laden merchant ships would be enough to set her up for life twice over! The threat of violence and loss of life hardly even gave her pause. She was a sell-sword, after all. Running security for desert caravans was surely more deadly than a voyage across a body of water, right? How much water could there possibly be?
It had turned out so much worse than Rush ever could have imagined. It turned out that there was far more water than her sand-addled mind could ever have conceived of and unlike the dunes of the Wastes, the waves were not content to shift inch by inch but rather tossed the merchant galleon violently as the vessel made its way toward a distant destination that the red-skinned woman had waved off as unimportant. If she’d cared enough to recall it, she probably wouldn’t be where she was now but there wasn’t a whole lot of point in dwelling on past mistakes. One terrible storm and an ill-timed swell was all it took to sink the ship and all her hopes of riches along with it.
Through some strange stroke of fate, she’d survived, clinging to a bit of flotsam like one of the barnacles that had stuck to the galleon’s hull. Rescued by a foreign ship, Rush now found herself on unfamiliar soil with little in the way of options to return home. Safe passage from Trótskarr back to her homeland was going to require going through several ports of call, each taking their share of fees along the way. So it was that she’d found herself taking jobs at the docks and scraping together enough of the local currency to build herself a little security. She’d already saved enough for passage through the first leg of her journey home and yet she still hadn’t booked passage.
The truth of it was that the place was starting to grow on her. Sure, it was a bit strange in comparison to home but welcoming in its own way. There was no shortage of work to be had. No shortage of coin to be earned—or won—if one scratched a bit at the luxurious surface of the port town of Zàpça. Rush was particularly good at finding ways to survive and at first she’d been happy to enjoy the kind of security enjoyed by those who lived in the city. It had only been a short while, but already she was starting to feel that itch in the soles of her feet that suggested it was time to move on. Or perhaps to simply seek out something more akin to her normal line of work as a mercenary.
She ignored the whispers of the Ãokv’kele race the first few times she’d heard them circulating through the local watering holes and back alleys. She’d caught tidbits of information here and there that started to really flesh out the magnitude of what was involved. This wasn’t just about bragging rights—it was about reputation. That was something she was sorely lacking as a stranger in a strange land. Back home she might have had her pick of work on reputation alone but here? She was just an unfamiliar face with a heavy accent that put the locals ill at ease as often as not.
So it was that Rush stood now, having counted out her P’ee K’äh to the woman in the red robe whose face was so deep in shadow she might as well not have one at all. Everyone called the robed woman “Merchant” but it seemed like no one could agree about any other details, some even spouting the most ridiculous of tales possible about goddesses, the Great Families of Tam’nyer-a and all sorts of other nonsense. Rush didn’t believe a word of it, of course. That didn’t stop her from staring in between transactions, of course, Rush’s amber eyes peering into the void where the merchant’s face ought to have been.
“That one,” the woman indicated with a rough gesture in the direction of a large, red male. The beast in question looked marginally more alert than the others in the corral, a trait she hoped was an indication that he would serve her well in the coming days rather than an interest in making a meal out of her. The hulking lizards were still a bit of an incongruence to the mind of the woman who’d spent her whole life trying to avoid being eaten by the larger residents of her homeland.
“You’re red,” she murmured in thickly accented C’ërod to the Ãokv’kele. “Like me. Let’s hope that makes us a good pair, hmm?”
It was as good a reason as any to make the choice, she supposed. Her colouring had been something of a signature back home. Perhaps that would end up working here as well. Only time would tell.
Atop the expected food and water, Rush made a few extra purchased from the merchants wares, stopping to ask about each in great detail before making up her mind. A map seemed like an important choice even if Rush couldn’t actually read the flowing script that labelled most of it. That was easily remedied by pulling it open right there in the shop and demanding to have each location of importance pointed out to her so she could memorize them later when she had a spare moment. The other items were a little more difficult. Rush’s ears were still ringing with tales she’d heard of poison, theft and bandits in the previous races. The bandits were of far less concern to a seasoned mercenary like herself but poison wasn’t something she knew very much about. Especially foreign ones that she’d be even less likely to identify. When the merchant described the abilities of the X’miasxu snake to her, Rush’s eyes lit with interest.
“That sounds useful! As does the knife”
She’d eyed the bow and arrows but her taste in weaponry tended to lean away from missiles. Honestly, she would have given just about anything to have her glaive back in her hands but the folk here in Trótskarr seemed not to favour that particular weapon as far as she could tell. She’d yet to come across a smith or shop that had a decent replacement for the one she’d lost. Instead she’d had to settle for a spear that she’d hacked down to an approximation of her favourite.
Q'uerîl slipped from his home before even the earliest rising members of his servants in order to avoid their scrutiny, not that any would dare question the master of the house. In spite of his own showing age, Q'uerîl was most worried about his mother catching wind of his objectively terrible decision. However, he found himself caring less and less about his duties of late. The Trótskarr had called his name since he was a boy and he was tired of ignoring them. He had made arrangements for the Ãokv'kele his grandson had picked out to be delivered to a haggard man who goes by the name Q'uerîl. His retainers had done just as instructed and did not bat an eye when he took the reigns of the pink Ãokv'kele the boy had dubbed “Biscuits.”
Q'uerîl paid little heed to the excited crowds rushing through the streets as he joined his fellow racers at the merchant’s stall. Using as few words as possible when talking to the ominous merchant, he laid down his P'ee K'äh and picked out a X'miasxu that happily coiled around his little finger, a pouch of Hurtulj, and a map. His dark eyes lingered on the weapons laid out before him for a moment, but he decided to take his chances with his own blade rather those better suited to desert combat.
His selections made, Q'uerîl returned to Biscuits and made sure the Ãokv'kele was well fed. Though he would appear distant to the other racers, the Ãokv'kele took to its new owner without question. It happily accepted food from him and wagged its tail as he gently patted it, inspecting it for any potential issues. Under his mask, a smile broke out as he remembered the Ãokv'kele he briefly had as a boy. While Biscuits was a tall, calm male, the Ãokv'kele he from his childhood had been an exuberant female that had ended up giving its life for him during a bandit attack. Biscuits picked up on its new masters change in moods and turned to gently nudge him on the shoulder with its snout. Q'uerîl, having drifted off, chuckled as his spirits were renewed by his new companion’s affection.
Being dragged from his memories also caused Q'uerîl to note a very silly mistake being made by one of his fellow riders. His unexpected good mood urged him to intercede in what would have otherwise likely been a helpful slip up by the other rider. He walked forward as Khah’ offered food to a Miphak, apparently not noticing the little monkey’s thieving counterpart slowly approaching from behind. “Taityl!” He called out as the little thief reached out for her pack. Q'uerîl raised his sharp gauntleted hand threateningly as he got close to the Miphak. Luckily, it quickly scampered away and he did not have to be the racer who killed an adorable monkey in the middle of the street. “ZàÞçan Miphak are thieving little bastards.” He said to the woman, eyeing her curiously. She did not seem like the typical racer.
Q'uerîl paid little heed to the excited crowds rushing through the streets as he joined his fellow racers at the merchant’s stall. Using as few words as possible when talking to the ominous merchant, he laid down his P'ee K'äh and picked out a X'miasxu that happily coiled around his little finger, a pouch of Hurtulj, and a map. His dark eyes lingered on the weapons laid out before him for a moment, but he decided to take his chances with his own blade rather those better suited to desert combat.
His selections made, Q'uerîl returned to Biscuits and made sure the Ãokv'kele was well fed. Though he would appear distant to the other racers, the Ãokv'kele took to its new owner without question. It happily accepted food from him and wagged its tail as he gently patted it, inspecting it for any potential issues. Under his mask, a smile broke out as he remembered the Ãokv'kele he briefly had as a boy. While Biscuits was a tall, calm male, the Ãokv'kele he from his childhood had been an exuberant female that had ended up giving its life for him during a bandit attack. Biscuits picked up on its new masters change in moods and turned to gently nudge him on the shoulder with its snout. Q'uerîl, having drifted off, chuckled as his spirits were renewed by his new companion’s affection.
Being dragged from his memories also caused Q'uerîl to note a very silly mistake being made by one of his fellow riders. His unexpected good mood urged him to intercede in what would have otherwise likely been a helpful slip up by the other rider. He walked forward as Khah’ offered food to a Miphak, apparently not noticing the little monkey’s thieving counterpart slowly approaching from behind. “Taityl!” He called out as the little thief reached out for her pack. Q'uerîl raised his sharp gauntleted hand threateningly as he got close to the Miphak. Luckily, it quickly scampered away and he did not have to be the racer who killed an adorable monkey in the middle of the street. “ZàÞçan Miphak are thieving little bastards.” He said to the woman, eyeing her curiously. She did not seem like the typical racer.
“Taityl!” She turned, since the voice calling out to her was male, rather gruff, and too close for comfort. She managed - barely - not to wince as she saw the man and his raised hand, mostly because she spotted the second Miphak. His words, which followed rather quickly in the wake of the small thief escaping empty-handed, served to further reassure her, and she managed to nod in thanks and then to shake her head rather ruefully.
"I should have known better. This already happened to me once before, you know." She passed a hand over her face, as if to wipe out her brow, and then continued, with a small chuckle. "At least, this time, I am in a proper attire to run after the little thief, not that I want to do such a thing before the Race even starts. I must thank you, Ethor ..." she trailed off a little, leaving the man the opportunity to introduce himself, as was nice and proper, before continuing, "I am In'Anna, from Püertagœ, and still uncertain about how I got into this Race in the first place."
At the very least, the dark Khah' half-breed knew when laughing at oneself was warranted, and she let out another small chuckle even as she looked curiously at the man. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to impart a piece of advice or two?" She didn't trust the man, of course, saving her from petty Miphak robbery could have been a simple tactic to earn her trust and all her P’ee K’äh. However, asking questions couldn't hurt either, and she would listen carefully to what he had to say.
As he responded, she noticed a red-colored and strange-looking female, and her mouth opened without her noticing, and her hand moved of its own volition to point, as if she were still a child discovering the world. "Oh my, I wonder where she's from ... I heard all stories about the desert. Do you reckon she may be a Dëymosþan? I heard their women are possessed by demons." But with In'Anna curiosity was always stronger than fear or even wisdom, and she gawked towards the strange-looking female a little too long and a little too obviously. If the woman in question glanced their way, she would immediately notice she was being scrutinized by the dark Khah' half-breed.
"I should have known better. This already happened to me once before, you know." She passed a hand over her face, as if to wipe out her brow, and then continued, with a small chuckle. "At least, this time, I am in a proper attire to run after the little thief, not that I want to do such a thing before the Race even starts. I must thank you, Ethor ..." she trailed off a little, leaving the man the opportunity to introduce himself, as was nice and proper, before continuing, "I am In'Anna, from Püertagœ, and still uncertain about how I got into this Race in the first place."
At the very least, the dark Khah' half-breed knew when laughing at oneself was warranted, and she let out another small chuckle even as she looked curiously at the man. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to impart a piece of advice or two?" She didn't trust the man, of course, saving her from petty Miphak robbery could have been a simple tactic to earn her trust and all her P’ee K’äh. However, asking questions couldn't hurt either, and she would listen carefully to what he had to say.
As he responded, she noticed a red-colored and strange-looking female, and her mouth opened without her noticing, and her hand moved of its own volition to point, as if she were still a child discovering the world. "Oh my, I wonder where she's from ... I heard all stories about the desert. Do you reckon she may be a Dëymosþan? I heard their women are possessed by demons." But with In'Anna curiosity was always stronger than fear or even wisdom, and she gawked towards the strange-looking female a little too long and a little too obviously. If the woman in question glanced their way, she would immediately notice she was being scrutinized by the dark Khah' half-breed.
It would have been impossible to miss the sharp cry of “Taityl!” that echoed through the merchant’s space. That particular word was one that Rush had become intimately familiar with, having been on the receiving end of it near constantly since her arrival. Originally she’d thought it was meant to get address any unfamiliar person until one of the older dock workers kindly enlightened her to its proper use. She’d tried to explain in return that she didn’t need an honorific attached to her name every time someone felt the need to get her attention but given up when it became clear that the locals weren’t about to adopt the casual nature of her name.
This time the honorific wasn’t directed at her, though. Across the open-air shop she spotted the man who’d called out and the woman he was gesturing at, the pair of them suddenly very interested in the critter that was scampering away as if a herd of cinder wolves were chasing it through the rest of the bazaar. There were many such creatures throughout the city, she’d learned. Most of them were known to thieve and vandalize and even the red-skinned foreigner could understand why there’d been a need to shout about it.
She was about to turn away, back to the task at hand—loading her mount with goods—when she caught sight of the dark haired woman pointing in her direction. This too was a familiar enough sight. There were plenty of strange folk here in Trótskarr the likes of which she’d never seen back home. Some sported ears and tails and some not. She’d even seen one with feathers! No matter the diversity of the place, her crimson skin still stood out in a crowd like a fiery beacon. Apparently the human population here was much like the one at home and the folks here hadn’t seen anyone of her colouring before either. Even the drab kurta she was wearing wasn’t enough to mask her foreignness.
The woman was staring. Openly.
It wasn’t so much a surprise really, but Rush couldn’t help feeling the strangers eyes on her skin like a brand. And so she responded with a feral looking smile that was all teeth and very little warmth, her slightly too-long incisors gnashing lightly. It wouldn’t do to get too friendly with the competition, right? If the woman had wanted to team up she would have done something more than simply stare, wouldn’t she? Or would she?
This was a foreign land, Rush tried to remind herself. The cutthroat nature of the Wastes lent itself well to posturing and assumptions about behaviours that didn’t quite run true in this place. She pulled thoughtfully at the Ãokv’kele’s cinch, testing the fit before looking back over her shoulder to see if she was still the subject of open spectating. She was, of course. Probably just as much for Rush's confrontational behaviour as for her colouring now.
“Red,” she supplied rather loudly, sarcastically implying that perhaps her observer had forgotten the word.
This time the honorific wasn’t directed at her, though. Across the open-air shop she spotted the man who’d called out and the woman he was gesturing at, the pair of them suddenly very interested in the critter that was scampering away as if a herd of cinder wolves were chasing it through the rest of the bazaar. There were many such creatures throughout the city, she’d learned. Most of them were known to thieve and vandalize and even the red-skinned foreigner could understand why there’d been a need to shout about it.
She was about to turn away, back to the task at hand—loading her mount with goods—when she caught sight of the dark haired woman pointing in her direction. This too was a familiar enough sight. There were plenty of strange folk here in Trótskarr the likes of which she’d never seen back home. Some sported ears and tails and some not. She’d even seen one with feathers! No matter the diversity of the place, her crimson skin still stood out in a crowd like a fiery beacon. Apparently the human population here was much like the one at home and the folks here hadn’t seen anyone of her colouring before either. Even the drab kurta she was wearing wasn’t enough to mask her foreignness.
The woman was staring. Openly.
It wasn’t so much a surprise really, but Rush couldn’t help feeling the strangers eyes on her skin like a brand. And so she responded with a feral looking smile that was all teeth and very little warmth, her slightly too-long incisors gnashing lightly. It wouldn’t do to get too friendly with the competition, right? If the woman had wanted to team up she would have done something more than simply stare, wouldn’t she? Or would she?
This was a foreign land, Rush tried to remind herself. The cutthroat nature of the Wastes lent itself well to posturing and assumptions about behaviours that didn’t quite run true in this place. She pulled thoughtfully at the Ãokv’kele’s cinch, testing the fit before looking back over her shoulder to see if she was still the subject of open spectating. She was, of course. Probably just as much for Rush's confrontational behaviour as for her colouring now.
“Red,” she supplied rather loudly, sarcastically implying that perhaps her observer had forgotten the word.
The woman looked around. The Desert Race seemed ready to start, yet only a few entrants had come to her so far. She sighed; people were forgetting the old traditions. Some thought it was just another tourist attraction and stayed away. Or those Ãoni healers must have complained about the number of injuries and deaths. The Trótskarr blood was growing weaker by the day, and with the Gods dead there were moments when she didn't have any hope left, that something could change, that the Çuïnk'anagâ could ever come back. If only the rumours she had heard were true - the resurgence of magic, eggs hatching in the desert. If only. Then, keeping the traditions alive would have been worth the sacrifice.
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