The Tent City of Sunberth
Fall 35th, AV 511
Zandelia had a rare occurrence this day, and that was shown in so far as she had no limp at all as she made her way back through the tent city that was her barrier from the darker streets of Sunberth’s alleys and markets. She held her home there, enshrined at the very centre of the hundreds of canvas triangles, and a fine home it was by many accounts. It held no regal items and it was unlikely to become a social sensation, however its tranquillity and spaciousness was enough for Zandelia. When she spent the majority of her time running leaping and fighting it was pleasant at least to have somewhere to sit and just be. It was an irony then that though her intentions were always to do just that she always ended up doing something else within the thickly oiled canvas walls. Her evenings were spent pouring carefully crafted over notes or swiftly stolen missives. Sometimes she had a drink to relax, other times she did not. She had few possessions to speak of and little in the way of money that was ever on display. She had no fear of robbery and yet she always slept with a dagger.
A contradiction I am, indeed. My home life is little more than an extension of my working one. None know where I lay my head and no friends have ever graced its walls. A sad hermit I have become she thought to herself, a little sadly, as she walked through the flapped entrance and set about undressing.
“Still, something moves this evening that might just change that for the better. For once I have trust enough to spare a visit or two from a useful woman, and a strange man indeed” she muttered to herself as she pulled her Shadowsilk robes over her head and threw them onto her bedding, “I can only hope it’s not bloody miss-placed, this trust of mine” she finished as the studded leather armour followed it swiftly.
She took the opportunity to stretch her tired muscles, easing the tension in her shoulder and neck as she let herself sink onto the end of her bed before rubbing her thighs in an attempt to rub away the aching masses there. Fitter was might well be now, yet still she needed time to recover from a hard day’s work. She pulled at herself here and there, probing a knot in one place and smoothing the tension in another. It was a bodily ritual she completed every day – knowing now how truly useful it was to her body. It not only halved her recovery time but filled her with a sensation of pleasure that she did not often get throughout her time at The Establishment. Still, time was wasting and she would need to be outside to meet the newcomers soon enough in order to begin the exchanges of experience, not wishing to miss the golden opportunity. She patted herself down once more, smoothing her trousers and shifting her corset into place on top of her blouse before pulling her leather boots back on and striding out of her home to wait, just outside the entrance flap.
Let’s just hope they damned well makes an appearance as I can’t be petching bothered to hunt Shai cute little arse down, and Eridanus can only be caught half the bloody time she thought to herself as she crossed her arms under her bust and took up a sentinel’s position in front of her home.
It was getting further into the evening now, the sky darkening earlier each day and casting lengthy shadows across the tent city that were only partially banished by the spluttering torches that each resident kept going at night to guide their visitors in. Zandelia had never had much use for one before, however she had kindled one now and stuck it firmly into the ground beside her with a few hard shoves, gathering a mound of dirt back up around its base to keep it stable. It was a dangerous practise for a person who lived in what was akin to a house made of parchment, but it was the only way to provide light and, therefore, a necessity. Still, she waited despite her growing concerns, for her new pupils – and teacher at that too – to arrive.
“Come on Shai, Eridanus, where the shyke are you?” she asked the darkness itself as it gathered, slowly, around her.