34th, summer, 516 av
9th Bell
Caravansary Refugee Camp
It was a quiet morning so far as Amunet prepared to check in on the refugees and see about a few health concerns. The Healer had pretty much ignored the gossip of how detrimental the refugees were to the welfare of Endrykas. This was fueled in part by fear, by prejudice, by those who spoke of racial purity and by just plain hate of anything non Drykas. She had received an ear full from the assistants and nurses in the River Flower as most of them was either afraid of going into the refugee camp at the Caravansary or didn’t think wasting resources on them was worth it. Amunet had volunteered for the task citing that they didn’t need the refugees to get sick and possibly infect the population. The health of these wayward souls from the mines was in their best interest to monitor for the greater good of Endrykas.
That was how it was colored. Amunet was shaking her head as she packed Shetanae and Gertrude with supplies to haul towards the Caravansary. There was much derision, division and dissension about this group of former slaves. None of them were there in the mines with these people. They didn’t see the desperate situation that no one of the nation that is of the Drykas would allow even a snake to live in. Semele saw to its cleansing thankfully. The Healer made a promise to quite a few of them that she would look after them. Now the lot of them was in a strange situation of no longer being slaves but at the same time not allowed to work or seek to learn how to work, it left them confused, angry and nervous. The red head didn’t blame them. There was little she could do with the council of the clan leaders divided till the other clan leaders reached Endrykas. The young lady hoped they hurried before Pratal did something horrible. The Ruby Clan Leader was getting bolder by the day.
The lead holding gertrude’s halter was held tightly in her hand as knee and heel weeded the mare through the morning people making their way to what business haunted their steps. All this musing of the current gossip did little to no good as the young woman shook those thoughts from her head as she looked up towards where she was headed. Still she worried of what effect this growing prejudice would do to her people. Again that great red mane of wavey locks shook side to side gently as she tried to clear her thoughts to focus on the care she was about to do. Amunet had sent word to the camp to have a tent cleared or available to perform clinic work as it was considered best to do medical checkups and treatments there amongst them then they risk going through the city to the River Flower.
Amunet thought that lessons in how to live the life of one that existed with tents was in order. The items that became clear needed to teach ranged from general cleanliness, tent care, basic cooking from basic things that can be gathered within a half to a mile from the city in the Grass. If one knew how, one would never go hungry in the Sea of Grass. The nod from Thomas Heartsong of the Opals solidified her movement to do bravely what no one else in the River Flower or the other clans would want to do. Rather it was to avoid the refugees for fear of being associated with the issues the poor souls did not start or it was their own true prejudice kept most from lending the hand that should have been given. Nehrar Tenderbloom gave her precautionary advise which he prayed would stay peaceful as the elder Doctor also prayed that she kept control of her tongue. The later was probably a futile prayer but one he dared to put forth anyway.
Out of the Drykas there was that again three times of unbonded. This made up the bulk of their work force and society. The Drykas were on the top of their society having bonded with a strider successfully. It was instant clanship and their version of ‘nobility’ if one believed in such fairy tales. Those with windmarks proudly displayed them. All Amunet had on her body at all was the mark of her Goddess which was proudly splayed out on the right side of her face. The rest of her was well covered in contrast to the rest of her people that didn’t see modesty as a worrisome thing. Her family taken by the Pirate raid the winter before caused her current predicament with her little brother camped near the River Flower. No one in the Ruby clan wanted to take her in due to Pratal’s insistence that she should be with his Pavilion. It was not like Pratal could tell another Ankal what to do, but his influence was a strong one. The stubborn young woman fervently refused Pratal’s hospitality time and time again. Betrayal does that to a person.
Yet the girl loved her people. She hoped they could see past their closed in view to the greatness beyond the tents that surround and shroud them. A great many think her to be foolish. A few think her thoughts fanciful and farfetched even to the point of being a fairy tale that would never be. In those stubborn blue eyes held a strange magic that those around her whisper. Not even the Sapphire mages or the Topaz historians have figured out what this was. The girl was marked by Rak’keli. The girl was bonded yet her windmarks was wiped away by the gods. Was this red head so God touched to be safe within the city? Those she had cared for and tended to would say a hearty yes. The murmurs countered by actions of the heart. It was this big heart that led her to the refugee camp.
The camp was a hodge-podge of tents in various forms. Whatever could be scavenged from top of the mine and what those of Endrykas could donate was spliced together with some of these structures. Those sky blue eyes bedecked with the golden shimmering starbursts surveyed the conditions making mental notes. She brought Shetanae up to a stop and dismounted smoothly. One of the slaves she had first helped up on that dreadful precarious shelf came up to clasp arms with her. The red head’s face lit up and smiled as they spoke of small things while she entered the open air tent she requested so she could set up.
“Hey listen. Carson.. I want do Teachings. People need know how tent life is. “ Her basic common making some ideas difficult but she was determined. “You think spread word and have them come say in two bells?”
Carson bobbed his head. He was a tall willow dark skinned fellow. “Miss Amunet, this will be so.” His dark head nodded once and once only before he sauntered his long and lanky legs through the tent poles and started weeding through the tents to do as she asked.
Amunet was glad the change in the man from the mud soaked skeleton she saw in the mines. He had become a liaison of sorts for her with the former slaves. The industrious girl started unpacking and arranging things on tables, while rearranging items for examinations and counseling in some cases. Some had come back pregnant from God’s only knows which slave Master. Though things were tough here, it was a far cry better than the mines.
The girl started seeing the gathered people to talk to them about if they had any coughs, unreported cuts, irritations, rashes or other ailments since the last she was here. This was a chance to make small talk with the refugees.
“Are you eating enough?” She asked one frail looking woman.
“We eat what we can. Rations are slim but it’s better than the mines.” This was a common response or similar throughout whom she interviewed and examined.
Amunet nodded. “I want to show you a few things of how to live out here. It be good. We will need all help come time to gather winter stores.” Her hand went to her shoulder as she checked her joints and complaints of bad tendons. “This will take time to heal. “ It was all she could say as she pondered their dilemma. The Drykas knew how to hunt and forage so not any one pavilion was a burden to the other. There were times that one gave to another in times of need, but every Pavilion pulled their weight. These new people needed to learn these things so they do not become a burden. Maybe some people will see them as a gift from the Gods instead of a detriment, parasites even.
9th Bell
Caravansary Refugee Camp
It was a quiet morning so far as Amunet prepared to check in on the refugees and see about a few health concerns. The Healer had pretty much ignored the gossip of how detrimental the refugees were to the welfare of Endrykas. This was fueled in part by fear, by prejudice, by those who spoke of racial purity and by just plain hate of anything non Drykas. She had received an ear full from the assistants and nurses in the River Flower as most of them was either afraid of going into the refugee camp at the Caravansary or didn’t think wasting resources on them was worth it. Amunet had volunteered for the task citing that they didn’t need the refugees to get sick and possibly infect the population. The health of these wayward souls from the mines was in their best interest to monitor for the greater good of Endrykas.
That was how it was colored. Amunet was shaking her head as she packed Shetanae and Gertrude with supplies to haul towards the Caravansary. There was much derision, division and dissension about this group of former slaves. None of them were there in the mines with these people. They didn’t see the desperate situation that no one of the nation that is of the Drykas would allow even a snake to live in. Semele saw to its cleansing thankfully. The Healer made a promise to quite a few of them that she would look after them. Now the lot of them was in a strange situation of no longer being slaves but at the same time not allowed to work or seek to learn how to work, it left them confused, angry and nervous. The red head didn’t blame them. There was little she could do with the council of the clan leaders divided till the other clan leaders reached Endrykas. The young lady hoped they hurried before Pratal did something horrible. The Ruby Clan Leader was getting bolder by the day.
The lead holding gertrude’s halter was held tightly in her hand as knee and heel weeded the mare through the morning people making their way to what business haunted their steps. All this musing of the current gossip did little to no good as the young woman shook those thoughts from her head as she looked up towards where she was headed. Still she worried of what effect this growing prejudice would do to her people. Again that great red mane of wavey locks shook side to side gently as she tried to clear her thoughts to focus on the care she was about to do. Amunet had sent word to the camp to have a tent cleared or available to perform clinic work as it was considered best to do medical checkups and treatments there amongst them then they risk going through the city to the River Flower.
Amunet thought that lessons in how to live the life of one that existed with tents was in order. The items that became clear needed to teach ranged from general cleanliness, tent care, basic cooking from basic things that can be gathered within a half to a mile from the city in the Grass. If one knew how, one would never go hungry in the Sea of Grass. The nod from Thomas Heartsong of the Opals solidified her movement to do bravely what no one else in the River Flower or the other clans would want to do. Rather it was to avoid the refugees for fear of being associated with the issues the poor souls did not start or it was their own true prejudice kept most from lending the hand that should have been given. Nehrar Tenderbloom gave her precautionary advise which he prayed would stay peaceful as the elder Doctor also prayed that she kept control of her tongue. The later was probably a futile prayer but one he dared to put forth anyway.
Out of the Drykas there was that again three times of unbonded. This made up the bulk of their work force and society. The Drykas were on the top of their society having bonded with a strider successfully. It was instant clanship and their version of ‘nobility’ if one believed in such fairy tales. Those with windmarks proudly displayed them. All Amunet had on her body at all was the mark of her Goddess which was proudly splayed out on the right side of her face. The rest of her was well covered in contrast to the rest of her people that didn’t see modesty as a worrisome thing. Her family taken by the Pirate raid the winter before caused her current predicament with her little brother camped near the River Flower. No one in the Ruby clan wanted to take her in due to Pratal’s insistence that she should be with his Pavilion. It was not like Pratal could tell another Ankal what to do, but his influence was a strong one. The stubborn young woman fervently refused Pratal’s hospitality time and time again. Betrayal does that to a person.
Yet the girl loved her people. She hoped they could see past their closed in view to the greatness beyond the tents that surround and shroud them. A great many think her to be foolish. A few think her thoughts fanciful and farfetched even to the point of being a fairy tale that would never be. In those stubborn blue eyes held a strange magic that those around her whisper. Not even the Sapphire mages or the Topaz historians have figured out what this was. The girl was marked by Rak’keli. The girl was bonded yet her windmarks was wiped away by the gods. Was this red head so God touched to be safe within the city? Those she had cared for and tended to would say a hearty yes. The murmurs countered by actions of the heart. It was this big heart that led her to the refugee camp.
The camp was a hodge-podge of tents in various forms. Whatever could be scavenged from top of the mine and what those of Endrykas could donate was spliced together with some of these structures. Those sky blue eyes bedecked with the golden shimmering starbursts surveyed the conditions making mental notes. She brought Shetanae up to a stop and dismounted smoothly. One of the slaves she had first helped up on that dreadful precarious shelf came up to clasp arms with her. The red head’s face lit up and smiled as they spoke of small things while she entered the open air tent she requested so she could set up.
“Hey listen. Carson.. I want do Teachings. People need know how tent life is. “ Her basic common making some ideas difficult but she was determined. “You think spread word and have them come say in two bells?”
Carson bobbed his head. He was a tall willow dark skinned fellow. “Miss Amunet, this will be so.” His dark head nodded once and once only before he sauntered his long and lanky legs through the tent poles and started weeding through the tents to do as she asked.
Amunet was glad the change in the man from the mud soaked skeleton she saw in the mines. He had become a liaison of sorts for her with the former slaves. The industrious girl started unpacking and arranging things on tables, while rearranging items for examinations and counseling in some cases. Some had come back pregnant from God’s only knows which slave Master. Though things were tough here, it was a far cry better than the mines.
The girl started seeing the gathered people to talk to them about if they had any coughs, unreported cuts, irritations, rashes or other ailments since the last she was here. This was a chance to make small talk with the refugees.
“Are you eating enough?” She asked one frail looking woman.
“We eat what we can. Rations are slim but it’s better than the mines.” This was a common response or similar throughout whom she interviewed and examined.
Amunet nodded. “I want to show you a few things of how to live out here. It be good. We will need all help come time to gather winter stores.” Her hand went to her shoulder as she checked her joints and complaints of bad tendons. “This will take time to heal. “ It was all she could say as she pondered their dilemma. The Drykas knew how to hunt and forage so not any one pavilion was a burden to the other. There were times that one gave to another in times of need, but every Pavilion pulled their weight. These new people needed to learn these things so they do not become a burden. Maybe some people will see them as a gift from the Gods instead of a detriment, parasites even.
