14th of Spring 513 AV The Denvali settlement sprawled along the northern bank of Zeltiva, its rainbow coloured streets growing swiftly in every directions as more refugees had arrived and they'd settled down. The Denvali had not only brought their people with them, but also their culture. Every house was painted in vivid bright colours, and the streets were patrolled by their own kind of merchants as well as their own peacekeepers. In the recently plagued and depopulated Zeltiva, it seemed a much needed growth to the city. The Denvali tended their own fields nearby, and were known for their hardiness and discipline. Afterall, they'd survived the utter annihilation of their home and come out on top. Their warriors were bound to ancient Suvanese military discipline, for much like Zeltiva their settlement used to have its roots in one of the ancient empires. But of course, much as the differences inbetween those two empires had lead to strife, so did the arrival of the Denvali not only cause peace and prosperity near their borders. When one group grows another may feel that it is at their expense. The sun shone deceptively brightly, accompanied by a cold wind blowing through the sharply illuminated city streets. It was the kind of sun that brought little warmth, but was set low in the horizon to blind you. Talen was walking through a street in the southern end of the Quarter. He enjoyed looking at the brightly coloured buildings and hearing people talking in what was slowly becoming more and more common speech rather than Denvali. The cold didn't much penetrate the shield, armour and scarf he was carrying. As they say, old habits die hard, and with all the things they'd been through lately he did not often leave home without them. He exhaled heavily and looked up the lightly populated street towards the building where his comrades had set up their base. Perhaps he'd find someone to train with, or some grub. With that envigorating thought he hunched his shoulders and almost changed direction, until someone shouting his name pulled him out of his reverie. "Talen! Talen!" A young son of a farmer came running up the cobblestones, waving at him vigorously. "There's a fight down by pops house! 'Em bloody thieves are callin' half our garden theirs!" "Lead the way." Talen pulled the shield off his back for better control of it's weight and set off at a ramshackle sprint after the youth, his blade bouncing merrily next to him. Arriving upon the scene of the scuffle there stood two small groups of people upon a little field inbetween to houses, one Zeltivan and one Denvali. Two men were engaged in a fistfight, whilst another was trying to pull them apart and the rest were shouting curses at each other, neither group understanding anything being said. "ENOUGH! HALT!" Talen roared loud enough to hurt his own voice, but not before one man had knocked his opponent out and others had started fighting. Intending to restore order Talen walked forward to push the men apart with his shield and military authority. Little did he know, he was not the only one. |