61st of Spring, 515AV
16th Bell, Evening
Edge of Ruby District
16th Bell, Evening
Edge of Ruby District
The sun was beginning her descent now as the caravan pulled into the strange new city. At first, Mayra was a little shocked. Bells ago they had met the first of the Drykas, a patrol that welcomed them to the city and pointed the traders in the direction that their goods would be most appreciated. The Bamboo and Sugar as well as some tobacco, as these were traders hired from the Konrath family, was to be distributed between the Ruby and Emerald clans. The horse woman said something that the 'Pavilions" there would trade for it.
Mayra was familiar with the common language, more familiar with it than her mother's Tawna, yet she still had to think about this for a moment. She knew Pavilions were simple tents, that the rich hosted parties under or something similar. But this woman referred to them as if they were... segments of something. Like shops or businesses or something... With the discussion that immediately erupted between the traders afterwards, she learned the 'Pavilions' were in fact just large tents and in the Drykas culture referred to as families of sorts.
A bell ago the pavilions were spread out, many strange herbivores and horses grazing or children playing. But as they got closer to what Mayra assumed to be the city proper, she decided it was time she departed from the caravan. She had paid them for taking her along in the beginning, so as they neared a the tents that seemed increasingly red, she simply unloaded her mule and departed. The strange human, Gerar, wanted a longer goodbye, and was a little stricken by her sudden departure. She hardly understood his confusion, so she waved it off. He seemed intent on continuously looking back at her as he guided her mule back to the caravan to continue to their destination.
Humans are so attached to everything. Mayra thought to herself now, trying to bunch her things together. She wasn't exactly sure where to put her things. This city was not like Alvadas or Kenash, there were no buildings, so she assumed there weren't any inns. Everything was tents, which suited the half-breed just fine, except she would need some place to set hers up. It would be dark soon, and she wanted to be comfortable before the sun completely disappeared.
So she stood there. Sacks of possessions at her feet, in the middle of the busy market place. She might have afforded to think this out better. She was not the most avid planner there was, however. The half-Chaktawe took a sip from her water-skin, watching the bustle of the city around her. Few seemed to mind or even notice her presence. Unlike in Alvadas, her eyes were not such a scandal here. She had peered at maps in Kenash, and seen that the desert-region's border, which she forgot the name of, was very close to the Cyphrus border. She was sure it was not uncommon to see a full Chaktawe passing through. They were nomads too, after all.
Feet firmly planted on the ground, and enjoying her social invisibility, Mayra opted to sit and watch. She stood on the edge of a small clearing of tents. She had no sense of direction or navigation or this tent-town, but she was sure that the closer you got to the center, the more crowded the various tents became. She deducted that she must be about mid-ways out towards the edge of the city, where it was more rural, but only as rural as one could get living in such a large encampment.
Finally, Mayra thought she ought to get started hunting down a place to sleep. Deciding not to do anything about her ignorance of the city, its rules or it's culture, she began to drag her stuff. With her weapons already tacked on her for ease, she hung the strap of her water-skin around her neck once more and examined her sacks. She hauled the first of the sacks over her shoulder, this was a heavier one that contained her books and utensils. Taking a moment to readjust to the new weight, Mayra wiggled a bit before leaning down and hauling the other one over her shoulder. Now that she could adjust both on her shoulder, she could feel the sword sheaths digging into her back. The blades were protected by the thick leather, but that didn't change the focused pressure on her shoulder stubs. If she had been full-Zith, her wings would have sprouted from there, but there was simply not enough of the flying creature's genes in her to make anything more than a vestige bone to annoy her in cases like these.
There was a not-so-easy-but-practical solution to this issue. Although it scared her a bit to use this magic that she had learned, the morphing she did know had only ever been used for this purpose. She'd learned humans well enough. Through both eyes and the intimate touch of a one-night lover, that she could replicate their shoulder bones with ease, removing the vestige from herself. It took concentration, and it didn't last very long, but so long as she only had to walk for a few chimes, she could keep them down.
She probably looked odd as she closed her eyes. Simply standing there, sweating under the weight of her packs and the sun, but Mayra could care less. Right now she was focusing on gathering her Djed. She was completely unaware of the energy within her on a regular basis, but when she paid attention, she found control of it. This was how she had discovered morphing. Like trying to bend metal, she directed the stream towards her shoulder blades. A trickle of sweat caressed her temple and for a second she was sure it was not the heat, but could not break her concentration long enough to think about it. But soon, a feeling of relief followed. She could hear the groans of her bones as the vestige wings melted away, aided by the pressure of her weapons and sacks on her back. Normally, she might had had to reach back and press them down herself, or lean against something to aide with the process, which would have been uncomfortable, but not painful. Luckily, today she had enough weight on her back that her Morphing could work itself.
Mayra was familiar with the common language, more familiar with it than her mother's Tawna, yet she still had to think about this for a moment. She knew Pavilions were simple tents, that the rich hosted parties under or something similar. But this woman referred to them as if they were... segments of something. Like shops or businesses or something... With the discussion that immediately erupted between the traders afterwards, she learned the 'Pavilions' were in fact just large tents and in the Drykas culture referred to as families of sorts.
A bell ago the pavilions were spread out, many strange herbivores and horses grazing or children playing. But as they got closer to what Mayra assumed to be the city proper, she decided it was time she departed from the caravan. She had paid them for taking her along in the beginning, so as they neared a the tents that seemed increasingly red, she simply unloaded her mule and departed. The strange human, Gerar, wanted a longer goodbye, and was a little stricken by her sudden departure. She hardly understood his confusion, so she waved it off. He seemed intent on continuously looking back at her as he guided her mule back to the caravan to continue to their destination.
Humans are so attached to everything. Mayra thought to herself now, trying to bunch her things together. She wasn't exactly sure where to put her things. This city was not like Alvadas or Kenash, there were no buildings, so she assumed there weren't any inns. Everything was tents, which suited the half-breed just fine, except she would need some place to set hers up. It would be dark soon, and she wanted to be comfortable before the sun completely disappeared.
So she stood there. Sacks of possessions at her feet, in the middle of the busy market place. She might have afforded to think this out better. She was not the most avid planner there was, however. The half-Chaktawe took a sip from her water-skin, watching the bustle of the city around her. Few seemed to mind or even notice her presence. Unlike in Alvadas, her eyes were not such a scandal here. She had peered at maps in Kenash, and seen that the desert-region's border, which she forgot the name of, was very close to the Cyphrus border. She was sure it was not uncommon to see a full Chaktawe passing through. They were nomads too, after all.
Feet firmly planted on the ground, and enjoying her social invisibility, Mayra opted to sit and watch. She stood on the edge of a small clearing of tents. She had no sense of direction or navigation or this tent-town, but she was sure that the closer you got to the center, the more crowded the various tents became. She deducted that she must be about mid-ways out towards the edge of the city, where it was more rural, but only as rural as one could get living in such a large encampment.
Finally, Mayra thought she ought to get started hunting down a place to sleep. Deciding not to do anything about her ignorance of the city, its rules or it's culture, she began to drag her stuff. With her weapons already tacked on her for ease, she hung the strap of her water-skin around her neck once more and examined her sacks. She hauled the first of the sacks over her shoulder, this was a heavier one that contained her books and utensils. Taking a moment to readjust to the new weight, Mayra wiggled a bit before leaning down and hauling the other one over her shoulder. Now that she could adjust both on her shoulder, she could feel the sword sheaths digging into her back. The blades were protected by the thick leather, but that didn't change the focused pressure on her shoulder stubs. If she had been full-Zith, her wings would have sprouted from there, but there was simply not enough of the flying creature's genes in her to make anything more than a vestige bone to annoy her in cases like these.
There was a not-so-easy-but-practical solution to this issue. Although it scared her a bit to use this magic that she had learned, the morphing she did know had only ever been used for this purpose. She'd learned humans well enough. Through both eyes and the intimate touch of a one-night lover, that she could replicate their shoulder bones with ease, removing the vestige from herself. It took concentration, and it didn't last very long, but so long as she only had to walk for a few chimes, she could keep them down.
She probably looked odd as she closed her eyes. Simply standing there, sweating under the weight of her packs and the sun, but Mayra could care less. Right now she was focusing on gathering her Djed. She was completely unaware of the energy within her on a regular basis, but when she paid attention, she found control of it. This was how she had discovered morphing. Like trying to bend metal, she directed the stream towards her shoulder blades. A trickle of sweat caressed her temple and for a second she was sure it was not the heat, but could not break her concentration long enough to think about it. But soon, a feeling of relief followed. She could hear the groans of her bones as the vestige wings melted away, aided by the pressure of her weapons and sacks on her back. Normally, she might had had to reach back and press them down herself, or lean against something to aide with the process, which would have been uncomfortable, but not painful. Luckily, today she had enough weight on her back that her Morphing could work itself.
Common | Tawna | Thoughts | PC/NPC Talking
