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Taloba, home to the Myrians, is the thriving core of Falyndar. Inhabited by a fierce and savage tribe where blood sacrifices are normal and a way of life, they are untamed and proud of it. Warlike, and with their numbers growing, the Myrians are set on reclaiming what is rightfully theirs. [Lore]
Oryani wanted something else to eat, other than what was available. Anything... just... anything. The residents of the Den of Exiles all worked together to find and get food for meals. Most were good and rather delicious, giving her a good taste in Taloban cuisine. She liked quite a lot of things, as different as they were, and the chef was rather good at having fun with whatever meat, fruits, or grains the people brought in. Someone had work involving the maize grown around the city, as a general staple of the Myrian diet. They often brought back things at a discounted price because of this, meaning that the 'exiles' had a steady supply of the food.
Oryani was normally quite happy to participate in the process, though she'd only really started helping with the gathering of food, due to her lack of... experience with collecting food in the jungle. Back in Endrykas, if not hunting, she would have simply gathered tubers and berries. However, she had no idea what was and wasn't poisonous in this place. Someone had warned her that something a Myrian could eat wasn't always something a non-Myrian could eat... due to some natural thingie or other. Which meant asking a Myrian was probably out of the question... as they might give her something that would make her violently ill. Instead she liked cleaning up or aiding in very simple preparation of the food... just to do her part.
Today's meal, however, was just... ergh. She thought maybe a spice jar had exploded all over the meal while cooking, or maybe three. She hadn't liked the smell when it was first being made, and now had to leave to avoid the scent. She found herself standing outside of the main cooking room, at such a distance where she couldn't actually smell the thing anymore. It was... better. Mostly. She felt like she had the scent stuck in her nose, however, and it simply wouldn't come out. She paused for a few moments, mentally wishing for it to go away... before groaning and turning away, looking for something to relieve the absolutely disgusting smell. Something, anything.
She took large, quick strides in the direction of nowhere, heading a little into a treed area full of wooden giants. Water... water would help. Anything with a better smell, actually. There was a funny smell to the jungle, wasn't there? She'd been here so long, she'd almost forgotten. How long had it been? It was the... tenth of the season. Or something like that. She'd lost count already. It was Summer, certainly. There'd been a big bonfire about it, and she'd ended up dragged along. But that smell... maybe that would help. It was especially obvious in the morning. Maybe it was the leaves? Grabbing for a possible solution, she plucked the nearest one and stuffed it at her nose, taking a big whiff. Maybe these foreign leaves had some kind of scent? That would be amazing.
Her relief was not to come, as the leaf smelled... leafy. Just leafy. Not strong enough to relieve her irritation. Instead she groaned and threw it to the ground, wandering a little further through the giant trunks. Water? She was heading in the direction of something watery, she vaguely remembered. She walked with her hands free, and then... motion. There. She turned in it's direction and found the trickle of a brook. She took a moment to thank her Chatakwe ancestors for this give, before crouching down and splashing the liquid all over her face and nose. She especially tried to get it in. After quite a bit of effort, she finally felt a bit... better.
Oryani straightened, took a moment to get her bearings... then cursed. A droplet of water hit her right on the top of the head. She could hear the pattering all around, hitting the roof of leaves far above. It was raining. Again. It always seemed to rain in this place, her one problem with it. Rain, rain, rain. Always... though that might have been an exaggeration. Rain was almost as bad as the ocean. It gave her a headache. The constant motion confused her. Her mother had never had any problems with it, or being in large crowds, and apparently it wasn't a common problem... but maybe it was just her. She got headaches a lot. Luckily, the canopy was to high up for her to feel it, so she was fine as long as she was under a tree.
She felt a growl in her stomach, and remembered the food. Right, food. She needed to eat. However, she did not want to go back to that disgusting smell. Maybe she'd buy something. She hadn't actually visited many restaurants yet, so this was a good time to try another. The food would certainly be better. She patted a pocket to make sure she had her bikka on her, before setting off. She had her vambrace on (practically every resident here wore some kind of armor), and maybe it would have been a trip with Alaril, but the eagle was probably hiding inside her little hut back at the den of exiles... Alaril hated rain just as much as herself, with an equally good reason.
Instead Oryani traversed in a random direction alone. She dashed between trees, taking her time when under their protection. She wasn't quite sure where she was going, but was rather following her nose... her recently revived nose. The rain steadily grew heavier and heavier, and she grew wetter and wetter every time she came out from under cover. Quite a few of the Myrians seemed to like the downpour, and a few made remarks about Makutsi. The Chatakwe had nothing against the goddess, especially when it came to rivers and general water sources... as long as they weren't too big. Both the Drykas and the Chatakwe worshiped the goddess. So did the Myrians. It was just... rain she had a problem with. Just the rain.
Oryani ended up running into something strange-looking that she hadn't actually discovered yet. She'd wandered under a particularly large grove of trees, relieved to be out of the worst of the downpour. She puttered around a bit, not wanting to move on, until she nearly ran into a wooden staircase. It was situated at the base of a very fat tree, curling up and up and up. Many of the buildings here were made in or around trees, but this was... something else. It looked almost delicate, a little out of place. She also knew she wasn't too close to the main city, where she knew most of the restaurants were. It probably hadn't been very intelligent wandering around the edge of the city, but she hadn't exactly been paying much attention. She'd really just been going for the largest and closest spot of protection.
The stairway winded up to a large construction built around the tree itself, connected to another, smaller one on another tree. She frowned at it, wondering of the purpose. Was it food? Was it public, or a strange house for one of the Myrian clans? As she was thinking of this, she was rudely shoved aside by a dark skinned woman, who quickly jogged up the spiral stairs. A moment later, another person followed, this one male... though he walked at a normal pace. The two didn't seem very related. It seemed... public. She didn't want to walk into a private place by accident, thinking it was somewhere she could actually go. She might as well take the chance, though... she needed to see and learn more about this city.
With that decided, she began jogging up the stairs herself. It took her a moment to decide that it was much too much effort, though... there were too many stairs, so she slowed to a walk like the man ahead of her. As she reached the top, noises and smells gave her hope that it was, perhaps, a restaurant... though one situated in an odd location. She could smell food, and a variety of it, though nothing like the disgusting meal that was probably currently being eaten back at the Den of Exiles. She wanted nothing to do with that. She'd hopefully just found her relief. Oryani ended up running the last few steps in anticipation, despite her earlier decision. Her stomach growled again, emphasizing the hunger that clawed at it.
She walked in and decided that she was in the right place. There were seats all over the place, where people could eat and sit. At the moment, all were full of people eating and talking... and talking loudly. She was quickly approached by someone who looked like a server, and barraged by a random sentence in Myrian. She stared at them blankly, before asking "Common please?" They scowled at the request, before picking a few words carefully in a terrible accent. "Chair? One?" She nodded to both, assuming the man was asking for how many people she was with (A grand total of zero), and where she wanted to eat. She was quickly lead off, pushing through the crowded seats to come out the other side of the circular room, to a door. Outside the door... was a bridge. The server expertly traversed it, though Oryani took it slightly more carefully, not liking the wobbling... but she too was more comfortable once halfway across.
She was led to an empty table with two seats, set near a window. She sat down in the indicated chair, before being asked another question. "Food?" The Myrian asked, pointing to a small black board on a nearby, covered in white scribbles. It was probably writing... but she couldn't read it, Pavi or not. Pavi didn't even have a written language after all. She'd never cared to read, and it wasn't much of an impediment... though at the moment she was expected to read. And she couldn't. Instead she shrugged, and asked kind of awkwardly "Anything? Simple?" The Myrian scowled but turned away, crossing back over the bridge and leaving her along in the (slightly) quieter room. Hopefully whatever she was brought would be worth the mizas... or bikkas. She still had trouble not mixing up those words. She used bikka now, and it was all she had... she'd lost all her mizas to those petching water-loving Svefra.
She watched the scene around her, staring out the plentiful open windows to see the rainy and leafy scene around her. It was certain... you'd never find a place like this in Endrykas. It would be simply laughable. On the first topic, you couldn't move it. And considering Endrykas was the moving city... any complicated structures were simply out of the question. You had to be able to disable it and move it in a moment's notice. Hence why it was called the tent city. Taloba was not like that. It was closer to Riverfall in that way, permanent buildings in a permanent location. Endrykas was special like that. Very special... which was part of the reason why she loved it. Why she wanted to return. Why... no. No. She was not having this debate again. She had it practically every night before falling asleep, and there was never an answer. Maybe one night she'd decide to leave, and return home... but the next she'd decide to stay. It was utterly pointless, and a stress she didn't want to focus on unless absolutely necessary. Which it wasn't. She wouldn't have been able to leave now even if she was utterly determined to. She needed to save up, wait until she knew more about the jungle, so she didn't die on the way back.
Oryani drifted off like this, occasionally flicking back to the topic but always forcing it off herself again. Think about other things. Like work. Maybe she'd buy a horse... but would any creature ever be able to replace Khal? The Strider had simply been to... perfect. Too irreplaceable. He'd been a companion, a friend... The archer sighed. Yet another topic she tried to stay off of.
Oryani was brought out of her thoughts when the food was brought. The server, carrying a large tray, deposited two items on her table, a drink and a large plate. “Food, drink. Sweet come when done food. It melt.” When she nodded her appreciation, the man turned and left, leaving her to wonder how three items was ‘simple’ in any way, shape, or form. And how did something melt? Was it made of icecubes? She had no idea. She assumed the ‘Sweet’ meant dessert… considering it came after the main and was, well, sweet. She couldn’t exactly complain about bad language skills.
The food before her, however, was utterly strange. The drink was a strange color, a light green, and had a texture that made it look almost… like it wasn’t a liquid. Just to check, she stuck a finger in, and found it thicker than water but… not as thick as honey. It wasn’t entirely smooth though, which was strange. She licked her finger, and her eyes widened. It was sweet, as sweet as any of the random fruits she’d tried. She couldn’t quite place which fruit it was, or even if she’d tried it before. It was like fruit juice… but it wasn’t a juice. It was good however… very, very good. She could never get enough of this new food. It was always more interesting than the slightly plain stuff you found in Endrykas.
The main dish looked a tiny bit less appetizing. The surrounding parts, a small bit of maize bread and some leafy vegetable (she liked leafy vegetables. They were always so… simple), looked delicious enough, despite being naturally plain. The rest of the food that covered the pottery plate was… she didn’t even know. Had it been smart to leave and buy her own food tonight? Probably not, looking at the things. And they were things. Bug things. Very buggy… bugs. They weren’t like the small ants and beetles she was used to from Endrykas, but a lot of the bugs she’d seen here had been amazingly large. These were no exception. They looked like… beetles, but strange beetles. She couldn’t explain them. They were brown and crispy, like they’d been cooked. Apparently she was supposed to eat… beetles. Lovely.
A man sat down in the chair opposite hers, startling the Chatakwe so much that she jumped. She glared at him, remembering all of a sudden that women were in charge in this society, and always needed to be dominant. Almost instinctively she reached forward to pull the sweet drink closer, from where it had been sitting on the far side of the table. She got a good look at the man then, noticing his Myrian-like dress but mostly un-Myrian-like appearance. He had the dark skin, but wasn’t nearly as bulky, and his eyes… his eyes were a startling green color, sticking out on his face like gems. Or bugs, since she was on that topic. She vaguely remembered people like him visiting Endrykas, a race that lived in Ekytol like her own ancestors. Ben… Ben… Ben something or other.
“Hello!” he greeted politely but joyfully, in such a natural tone that it startled her to realize what language he’d said it in. Tawna. Her stare turned confused, and her lack of speech was more from surprise than anything else. “Don’t speak Tawna? Really? You are a Chatakwe, aren’t you? I mean… those eyes.” He sighed, looking a little disappointed. She shook her head, having to convert to a language she rarely used. At least she knew it better than Common, though.
“I speak Tawna,” she finally said in the same language, after bringing back some of her confidence. “But… why do you?” It was an honest question. She was in the city of Myrians, as far away from the deserts of Ekytol as possible. She man grinned back, seeming to be utterly pleased that she did, in fact, speak the language of the Chatakwe. In fact, he clapped his hands and leaned back, the expression on his face stating that this was the best discovery of his life. “Good!” he exclaimed, not even bothering to answer her question. “I was getting rusty. I only found a half-Chatakwe… but they didn’t know any Tawna. What was their name? Reylil?” Oryani had originally been annoyed at the lack of answer, but the mention of her boss brought more surprise. “Reylil?” she repeated, stunned. That would explain the strange appearance of the woman… she didn’t have the black eyes Yetrian had, but the reddish skin tone… yes.
The man raised an eyebrow at her statement, then shrugged. “You asked me why? I speak many languages. Common, Myrian, Shiber, a tiny bit of Fravata… and a bit of Pavi, though I never had the time to pick up the language.” He seemed rather pleased with himself at this. The statement that he spoke little Pavi was a little sad… but at least she could speak Tawna, not the blasted Common. It was practically a relief. She didn’t mention anything, and instead leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, almost in a question. Now that this was done… why was he here? She would have been happy to talk more in Tawna, though… she wanted more of the drink. Not the bugs, though.
The man of many languages ignored this and leaned forward, inspecting her drink. “Lychee?” he asked, though the word was in Myrian. She shrugged, indicating that she had no idea what it was. He nodded, understanding, before continuing. “I think its Lychee. Lychee smoothie. Tasty. And… hah… the Stir Fried Cicadas. They’re really good, actually. I’ve had most of the food here. I just love it.” He grinned again and shrugged, then waved forward. “Please, eat. My food is coming.” Oryani frowned at the food names, trying to lodge them in her memory. They weren’t familiar, and both had been in Myrian. Lychee Smoothie… Stir Fried Cicadas. Whatever those meant. The man had said Lychee at first. It probably described the fruit in the drink or the type of drink. Though it was probably easy to figure out the type of drink… so it probably meant the type. “Lychee…” she repeated, frowning slightly.
The man later named himself as Ahbe from the tents of Konam, of the sons of Malech. He then mentioned that he was also no longer from the tents of Konam, in a joking voice... though it sounded important to Oryani. Had he been exiled or something? The Drykas didn't do that (very often), despite having clans and tents and families like that. Otherwise, it sounded like many a name she'd heard before. Three parts. Her own full name was 'Oryani Darkeye, of the Sapphire Clan'... though she rarely said it all. It was too lengthy, and a little too personal to simply give away. His own food arrived faster than her own, looking more appetizing... though missing the utterly delicious drink.
He'd practically forced her (though in a more pleasant way) to try the cicada bugs, which turned out... not too bad. Crunchy, but actually rather tasty. After a few she grew to like them, though it was nowhere as good as the Lychee thing, which she took constant sips of. The taste was so interesting, so delicious, she didn't seem able to get enough. When she eventually finished it she considered ordering another, then remembered the concept of money (she had no idea how much this cost) and decided against it. This meal would hopefully not be too expensive... and she had more than enough money, but it would still be smart to save up.
"So..." Ahbe began, when he was finished his part, and Oryani finished hers. "How long have you been in Taloba?" It was a generic question, though utterly obvious that she wasn't a native. He didn't know about her complete lack of skills in Myrian, though. She thought for a moment, trying to count the days... then gave up. She only knew how long she'd been here for Spring, after counting Reylil's pay. There was one thing she did know, which she offered as an answer. "Less than a season. You?" She wasn't adverse to conversation, and it was the first sensible and (mostly) fluent one she'd had in... gods, over a season. She felt practically deprived.
The server turned up as their conversation continued, picking up the empty dishes and depositing one last one before Oryani. Ahbe eyed it in surprise, raising an eyebrow. "Lucky," he mentioned, looking at it enviously. "I ordered... anything," she explained, staring at the bowl more in confusion than understanding. The thing inside was white, but covered in a medium brown powder. Like the Lychee, she had no idea how to describe it. "Do you not know what it is?" the linguist asked, sounding surprised. When she shook her head, he laughed.
"Ice cream! It's hard to explain. It's good." He picked up the spoon and stuck it in her hand, though she had no idea what to do with it. She poked the utensil in lightly, and it created a small dent. On a kind of whim she used indents to draw a shape in the food, something that was slightly humanoid. "Look, it's you," she commented jokingly, turning the bowl and pushing it towards him. He grinned but pushed it back. "Try it," he insisted, before leaving her to do so.
Oryani frowned at it, then, deciding that she'd tried the cicadas she might as well try this... scooped up a spoonful and ate it. Like the Lychee... it was amazingly delicious. In moments she wolfed the rest of it down, not really understanding how anything like this could exist. By the end she was full and satisfied, happy with a rather successful evening. She'd had a conversation, tried three new foods (even the cicadas), and most had been delicious. She didn't really want to try the cicadas again, though. They'd been good but... odd. The texture hadn't quite met her tastes.
She hadn't noticed it, but there was thunder outside. A large noise filled the room from one crack of lightning. A few people glanced up in surprise, but returned to their meals mostly unconcerned. She stared outside the window for a little longer, remembering the rain from earlier. It was pouring even more heavily now, though she didn't notice as it was too far away in all directions to feel or sense. A relief. She didn't actually mind the noise or smell that came when rain fell, and now that she was out of its influence... it was rather nice. Nice enough for her to want to close her eyes and lean back to rest.
"So, Chatakwe, which tribe are you from?" Ahbe inquired, trying to restart the conversation again. She frowned at him, confused. Tribe? She had a family and a clan, but the Drykas had no tribes. Ahbe looked even more confused at her confusion. "Chatakwe live in tribes. I can't remember the names off the top of my head. The grey one... red... and black, wasn't it? " It took Oryani quite some time to finally understand, and she shook her head. Ahbe was assuming she was a normal Chatakwe, from Ekytol... but that was quite far from the truth.
"I was born in the deserts, but I did not live there. I live... lived... with the Drykas. I am a Drykas." It was rather confusing, but something she was proud of. "So I am of the Sapphire Clan, if it is helpful." Ahbe frowned, then grinned in understanding and laughed. "Oh... strange indeed. I am sorry I don't speak much Pavi." He shrugged, thought a bit, and began with something else. "Anyways, I have an idea. The Myrians over there are having an arm wrestling challenge. Want to join me?" He stood up, waiting for a response, and pointing across the room. There was indeed a small collection of the dark-skinned warriors, and according to Ahbe... having a competition. She frowned, considered her options... then sighed. "Why not?"
Before Oryani could head over there, however, the waiter came to her side and tapped her on the shoulder. She frowned at him, then remembered she still needed to pay for the food. The man held up five fingers and she winced. Five bikkas was fifteen mizas. That was what she made over three days. Just… lovely. Still, she’d eaten the food, so she had to pay for it, and forked over the bone coins. If she could say anything about them, she liked the way they didn’t clink like metal coins. They were actually kind of soft, if a tiny bit gruesome. She was used to bone and blood decorations here, though… she had to get used to it.
When the food was done and paid for, Ahbe led her over to the collection of slightly intimidating-looking Myrians. At the moment there was one well-cheered fight between an intimidating woman and a scowling man. It was rather tense, with no movement between the two, until slowly the man started losing ground and… slammed into the table. There were a few cheers and groans from the results, and someone passed a bikka to another, muttering something in Myrian.
Oryani eyed them skeptically, worrying about her own chances in this competition. She had strong arms for Drykas, after practice with her bow, but these Myrians… they were all amazingly huge, with strong thick arms and bulging muscles. She didn’t know how she would compete. However, she’d told the linguist she’d try… and she didn’t want to back down now. It wasn’t like she was going to lose more money after this, was she?
After some conversation in Myrian Ahbe stepped up, taking a seat opposite the winner. He grinned a little goofishly at the woman, who stared back in suspicion, as if wondering why he was so weak. Especially around the Myrians, the man looked like a stick. Oryani was almost in the same boat, though she had more bulk and strength to her than the Benshira. She was pretty sure she could beat him, if the time came.
The fight only had one surprise… that Ahbe lasted nearly five ticks, rather than one. He’d strained with his hand grasping his opponents, tiny muscles sticking out in the effort. He’d managed to keep it like that for quite a while, before having his own hand slammed into the wooden table. A few cheers and jeers came from the watching crowd. A few more words in Myrian were said, and the man stood up, nodding his thanks.
The chair was empty for a few moments, until Oryani was startlingly pushed into it. She hadn’t been expecting this, so stumbled a little and “What? No. No. She’s…” in Pavi, instinctively turning to her native language. No one listened or understood, leaving her to stare hopelessly at her new opponent. The woman shrugged, commenting in rough Common “You barbarian, but you female barbarian. You be better opponent.” The Myrian grinned wolfishly, setting her elbow on the table, ready to grab the Chatakwe’s arm.
Oryani shook her limb, stared at her right hand, and came up with an idea. She was better with her left, but most were with their right… and saw switching as a challenge. She shook the left instead, setting it on the table before asking “Left?” with as much confidence as she could muster. A few of the onlookers laughed, and the Myrian woman grinned, switching hands and grasping the Drykas’. “Ready?” the woman asked, and was answered with a nod. “Okay. Three… two… one…”
There was a sudden pressure and Oryani had to fight to not lose ground. She hated this angle, it was so awkward to push from, but her opponent seemed to have an easy time. The woman glared at their clasped hands, as if that would help, all energy focused on force. And force it was. The archer could barely hold her arm upright. When she felt herself slipping back she pushed even harder, desperately trying to make it even, keep up, not loose. She did rather well at first, but she slowly inched towards the table, to loss… but she fought to the last bit, only relaxing when the back of her hand touched the surface. She let out a deep breath and shook it again, feeling rather embarrassed.
However, the woman smiled politely, holding out a hand that was not for an arm wrestle. “Good game,” was the comment, and they shook hands, before Oryani pushed herself out of the chair and slipped out of the crowd.
She found Ahbe in a moment, and frowned at him irritably. “Ow,” she told him, rubbing her left arm where it had begun to ache from the strain. It may have not been a good idea, considering it felt like her hand had been crushed under a rock, not in someone else’s grip. The man just laughed, though his reply was cut off by a dash of thunder. It sounded closer than before, and was coupled with something they had yet to hear. A cracking. A very large, loud cracking. Oryani glanced at the tree beside them worried, before more sound hit her ears. Not cracking, not thunder. A crash.
The damage was rather noticeable. As soon as the crashing noise was heard, a large branch had made itself known, landing in on top of the walkway between the two buildings as well as the front entrance area of this circular tree house. The huge tree limb ripped through much lighter wood, before landing on the ground far below with a thud. In the other building, similar damage occurred, though it went unnoticed by the current residents of this treehouse. They were all focused on the lack of the way back to the main building.
Oryani stared, quite frozen, at the damage, realizing that she would have been there, if she’d been half a chime earlier. Ahbe, on the other hand, was quite vocal in his surprise, stumbling back a few steps and yelping something in a language she didn’t recognize. Most of the Myrians in the room simply stared, in a similar position as the Chatakwe. This was not something that happened every day, and was a rather startling event. It wasn’t normal for a giant branch to come crashing through a restaurant.
A Myrian began calling out things, with a few responses, before jogging forward to inspect the damage. It was the same woman who’d won most of the arm wrestling challenges. She had two males tagging along behind her, looking like they were trying to help. Oryani simply frowned, dragging her eyes away from the gaping hole in the building. Her main thought was how they would get back, without major reconstruction. But… if no one helped, nothing would get done… so she left Ahbe where he was sitting dazed in a chair and moved over to the trio of Myrians. The woman was crouching close to the edge, seemingly undaunted by the drop before her, staring at where the bridge had been previously. The remainder dangled from the other side of the treehouse restaurant, utterly unreachable. Lovely.
“Person hurt?” she inquired, glancing around and wondering if anyone had been in the way of the crash. The woman shook her head, standing up. That was good… they wouldn’t have to get anyone with a broken leg or something down and out of here… which would be more complicated than getting themselves out of here. There were wood shards everywhere covering the ground, from tiny slivers to half-broken chairs lingering near the wreckage. After a moment’s pause the Myrian began shoving it over the edge, quickly joined by her two companions. Oryani jumped in as well, finding a sudden need to get out of this place… and this seemed like a good way to push off the strain.
She started kicking shards off the edge, sometimes taking a moment to watch them fall the lengthy distance to the ground. The ground was quite a sight, with wood remains everywhere, from the timber that had made up the tree house to the raw wood from the tree branch itself… which lay as a formidable but broken thing on the earth. Someone passed her a broom and she took it, using that to sweep off the smaller debris that lay around. A few more people joined in the work, whilst one woman went around, talking to everyone else there. It was a small group, basically Oryani, Ahbe, the seven or so Myrians from the arm wrestling, and one of the servers who hadn’t quite made it back to the main building.
With many people working to help clear out the mess, it was gone in a few chimes, leaving a smooth and clean floor. The only remainder of the actual wreckage was a large hole in the wall where the tree branch had crashed through, plus the catastrophe on the ground. She barely wanted to look at that, it was so bad. Still there was that nagging wonder of how they would get down, how they’d get off this thing… and she sincerely hoped someone came up with an idea, and fast. She was personally fine physically, full from her large meal and never lacking water. However, she didn’t want to be stuck here, at a strange height that she was completely unused to. It sounded generally unpleasant, especially if they had to sleep over the night.
She was about to voice her concern when someone walked up with a large bundle of rope in hand, starting to peer over the edge. Were they going to move down that way? It seemed the bigger building was in more of a mess than they were, a branch having landed on top of the roof, though not quite going through the floor. There were also many more people in that one, though a few could be seen streaming down the winding staircase, either running away or fetching other help. Her group, however, was on its own… which wasn’t an optimistic thought.
The man with the rope fount a strut on the wall that looked rather sturdy, but hadn’t been damaged in the crash. With deft hands he tied one end of the long cord around it, before tossing the end over the edge. It sailed down, unwinding as it went, before falling taught above the wreckage. It didn’t seem like a pleasant place to land, but there weren’t any other exits in this building, so there was no other easy way out. Oryani still stared at it skeptically, having never climbed down a rope like this before. It seemed too long, too hard to climb… but it seemed like their only way out as well.
She sighed and walked up to it, the first person already inching their way down. There was a lot of conversation in Myrian that she was missing, but she was able to follow the general plan by watching people and their actions. The woman who’d taken charge was organizing people to go down, or help in other ways, whilst the man who’d tied the rope was teaching those who didn’t know how to crawl down it. Oryani made her way up and next to him, quickly finding herself next in line. The man began talking to her in Myrian and she shook her head, asking him to translate in Common.
The instructor sighed, but began in that language, remarkably fluent. “Do not slide. Hand over hand, grip with knees. Will have to hold all weight. Slow, careful. You will figure out.” Quick lesson given, he gave the Chatakwe a nudge towards the edge where the rope hung. He’d been smart enough to tie it at waist height, where it was easy to grab a hold of and find a starting position. She gripped tightly with her hands, starting to wish she hadn’t been here in the first place, while the man fussed with the position of her legs until they were strangely wrapped around the rope. “Go,” he called, the order for her to start moving down.
She was slow at first, as slow as an inchworm moving down its own tiny thread. Carefully, very carefully, she moved one of her hands down, gripping for her life, before loosening her knees and sliding them down. She gripped again, moved her hands, and slid down again. Each hand change she moved only a few inches, but quickly she picked up the rhythm and moved at a faster pace. It wasn’t as fast as some, who’d seemed to slide all the way down like monkeys, but still fast enough that she didn’t feel like she was going nowhere.
It was a long, long climb, and she didn’t want to look down and see how much there was left. See how far down the drop would be, if she fell. Instead she closed her eyes, refusing to see the vast, threatening space around her that was frightening in its own way. She could admit it, she was scared… she’d never done anything like this, and it was probably more dangerous than riding a galloping Strider unprepared. Which she’d done, thinking about it. Only once or twice, and they’d ended badly. Here, if she fell or slipped or… anything, she’d probably die rather quickly. It wasn’t a pleasant thought.
Still, these kept running through her head as she shuffled down, hands hurting from rope burn and legs cramping from holding her weight. It was funny, you didn’t realize how heavy you were until you held up your entire body weight with just your hands and knees. At least the rope wasn’t swinging…. Maybe somebody was holding the end, or had tied it down? She didn’t think she’d be able to handle swinging, especially if she still had to move when it happened. It felt like she’d been moving down for ages, each hand width down blurring into the next, so she wouldn’t have been able to say if she’d just moved her right or left hand, or how long she’d been on the rope.
She jerked when she felt a touch on her leg, eyes flipping open to stare at what had tapped her. The ground was much, much closer, though there was the wreckage of the tree limb between her and the ground. Looking down she found someone with a hand on the end of the rope, holding it taught, and another person holding out a hand to help her down. She relaxed, and almost fell off, but barely managed to uncurl herself from the rope and step on the ground on wobbly legs. “Thank you,” she muttered, amazingly sincere. She was on the ground.
Thank you for mentioning the deduction from your meal!
Notes :
This thread was positively wonderfully written. You described everything perfectly and I could follow every moment as it was happening. It makes me feel even better to know that I was the one who prompted this calendar event. I loved how you described the damage and how Oryani was feeling as everything was happening. Shock, stunned, even a little worried if not subconsciously. I hope she goes back to help out during the reconstruction! Overall, a brilliant read, thank you.
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