Grave Business
71st of Spring, 518 AV
Hachia Koat was sitting outside of his small skyglass shack, crossed-legged on the ground, smoking his pipe. His old bones protested at the hard dirt beneath him, but he ignored them. A handful of okomo milled about as always; if asked, he would deny that they were his, for he was not bonded to any of them, and no okomo could truly belong to someone in any way other than that...but it was almost the truth, for they never strayed far from the old man's house. Perhaps it was more accurate to say he belonged to them.
It was a quiet early afternoon, and the old man let out a chuckle when one of the okomo stopped grazing to plod over to him, nosing at his face. He reached up to fondly rub its head, and it brayed softly, turning to look at him with a shining, intelligent gaze. With a chuckle, Hachia fished around in his pocket until he found a nub of carrot, and offered it to the okomo. It crunched up the treat, and seemingly satisfied, went back to grazing, allowing Hachia to lean his head against its soft, woolly flank.
The peaceful moment was interrupted by the sounds of an approaching traveler, footsteps crunching on the loose rocks of the faded path that led to Kochia's shimmering shack. With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet, knees creaking with the effort, and turned to greet whatever traveler had come to Lhavit.
"Oh my," He murmured to himself in surprise, when the person finally came into view, his bushy brows raising somewhat in surprise. A gaunt woman was making her way towards him, her movements careful and almost sluggish; her skin was pale and ashen, and black bags stretched out beneath her unnaturally pale eyes. Without question, he knew the woman was undead...a Nuit.
She was not the first to come to Lhavit, to be fair, but indeed the race was not common in the sparkling skyglass city. Their unsavoury reputation proceeded them; they were one of the few races who were sometimes barred entry altogether, and if not, they were placed under strict supervision and watched closely.
Regardless, Hachia did not particularly care; while perhaps he had been different in his youth, he had long since cast aside bigotry and the stereotypes associated with different races. His job demanded it; and so he raised a hand in greeting, taking another puff of his pipe and blowing out the smoke before speaking.
"Hullo there," He called, polite enough to sound friendly, a smile crinkling his face. "You must be weary from your travels. Would you like to rest a moment before continuing up the path?" The okomo nearest him shuffled away nervously, nostrils flaring as the Nuit approached, and Hachia clicked his tongue and uttered a few calming words.
If the undead woman wanted to rest a spell, he would bring a chair outside for her to sit on and wait patiently and quietly until she deemed herself rested. Otherwise, or as soon as she had rested, he would coax the nearest okomo into calm with the help of a few more carrots, and begin to put on their tack. As was his duty, he would bring the woman up to the gates, and wait patiently. If the Shinya barred her entrance, he would bring her right back down again.
Hachia spoke to her in a careful voice, not wanting to offend; he was not talkative, usually, but he felt it was only fair to warn travelers of mistrusted races what they would face in the city. "Now see here, miss, I know you must have come an awful long way. Our city isn't exactly the easiest to reach. So I feel like I should let you know, in all fairness and ahead of time, that your kind aren't too warmly welcomed here. I think you can understand that those who guard our city are wary of Nuit, given your...current state, and what it entails."
He paused, the okomo now saddled, and turned, gesturing to the pale woman that she could mount the beast. He paused what he was saying to reassure her. "Don't you worry, these okomo are smarter than any horse I've ever met. They're gentle beasts. You make them a tad nervous, but she won't hurt you."
He offered her help if needed, then continued to speak. "As I was saying, don't be surprised if the guards at the top question you a bit harshly and drag you off somewhere right away...they'll likely be taking you to speak with someone higher-up to arrange your stay." That was if they allowed her in at all, but Hachia didn't say that.
It was a quiet early afternoon, and the old man let out a chuckle when one of the okomo stopped grazing to plod over to him, nosing at his face. He reached up to fondly rub its head, and it brayed softly, turning to look at him with a shining, intelligent gaze. With a chuckle, Hachia fished around in his pocket until he found a nub of carrot, and offered it to the okomo. It crunched up the treat, and seemingly satisfied, went back to grazing, allowing Hachia to lean his head against its soft, woolly flank.
The peaceful moment was interrupted by the sounds of an approaching traveler, footsteps crunching on the loose rocks of the faded path that led to Kochia's shimmering shack. With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet, knees creaking with the effort, and turned to greet whatever traveler had come to Lhavit.
"Oh my," He murmured to himself in surprise, when the person finally came into view, his bushy brows raising somewhat in surprise. A gaunt woman was making her way towards him, her movements careful and almost sluggish; her skin was pale and ashen, and black bags stretched out beneath her unnaturally pale eyes. Without question, he knew the woman was undead...a Nuit.
She was not the first to come to Lhavit, to be fair, but indeed the race was not common in the sparkling skyglass city. Their unsavoury reputation proceeded them; they were one of the few races who were sometimes barred entry altogether, and if not, they were placed under strict supervision and watched closely.
Regardless, Hachia did not particularly care; while perhaps he had been different in his youth, he had long since cast aside bigotry and the stereotypes associated with different races. His job demanded it; and so he raised a hand in greeting, taking another puff of his pipe and blowing out the smoke before speaking.
"Hullo there," He called, polite enough to sound friendly, a smile crinkling his face. "You must be weary from your travels. Would you like to rest a moment before continuing up the path?" The okomo nearest him shuffled away nervously, nostrils flaring as the Nuit approached, and Hachia clicked his tongue and uttered a few calming words.
If the undead woman wanted to rest a spell, he would bring a chair outside for her to sit on and wait patiently and quietly until she deemed herself rested. Otherwise, or as soon as she had rested, he would coax the nearest okomo into calm with the help of a few more carrots, and begin to put on their tack. As was his duty, he would bring the woman up to the gates, and wait patiently. If the Shinya barred her entrance, he would bring her right back down again.
Hachia spoke to her in a careful voice, not wanting to offend; he was not talkative, usually, but he felt it was only fair to warn travelers of mistrusted races what they would face in the city. "Now see here, miss, I know you must have come an awful long way. Our city isn't exactly the easiest to reach. So I feel like I should let you know, in all fairness and ahead of time, that your kind aren't too warmly welcomed here. I think you can understand that those who guard our city are wary of Nuit, given your...current state, and what it entails."
He paused, the okomo now saddled, and turned, gesturing to the pale woman that she could mount the beast. He paused what he was saying to reassure her. "Don't you worry, these okomo are smarter than any horse I've ever met. They're gentle beasts. You make them a tad nervous, but she won't hurt you."
He offered her help if needed, then continued to speak. "As I was saying, don't be surprised if the guards at the top question you a bit harshly and drag you off somewhere right away...they'll likely be taking you to speak with someone higher-up to arrange your stay." That was if they allowed her in at all, but Hachia didn't say that.
