by Solicah on March 2nd, 2012, 7:27 pm
Solicah's mental preparations had not been enough for the words pouring from the dark man's lips. Solicah, even in his most cynicle of thoughts, had not predicted a message of such grave consequence. His mind reeled for a moment, before coming to a deadening halt upon a single image within his mind, his mothers face. And this thought spread, as ones awareness did upon the web, to that of his entire Pavilion, then all of of his people. And, with these thoughts came a plethora of piercing emotions which he did not ignore, but instead allowed to run through him with vigor. All of which lead him to one conclusion. His people must be warned.
Had he excess energy to divert from his focus on contacting his people, and desperately attempting to comprehend what this portent meant for them all, he might actually have been insulted by the suggestion that he could remain in Riverfall while his people stood naked against the coming storm. No Drykas, that truthfully claimed their heritage with even the most remote of honour could ever think of passing up the chance to serve his or her people in such a dangerous time. Though the words for sanctuary were kind, Solicah required not even a moment to decide on what to do. That he would ride from safety into probable danger.
Solicah suspected no foul play, or deception from the Akalak, not because he had heard the rumors spread throughout the caverns of the carved city of Konti messengers arriving with dire news, or out of respect for the warrior men, but because he was young. A youth which coupled with his strong sense of ethnic pride lended the young man an unrivaled sense of conviction in the face of danger. Near excitement, had the news not numbed him to anything but thoughts of action. A conviction which unfortunately robbed him of all skepticism, or doubt that others would for any reason wish to do other than work against him. In this case, a wise trait, one that offered him celerity of mind over those less trusting of the congregation.
And so, his mind began to consider the repercussions of this catastrophe the man warned against. Most of the information shared was irrelevant in his decision making. The origins and long term aftermath of the disaster meant nothing to Solicah, only the immediate warning. They had till the turn of spring to avoid an almost entirely unknown threat. He did, however, know that this threat would come from the skies, and he knew even better than that the stories of his peoples past. They must take to the soil, and hunker against that which would destroy them, and with the condoning and loving embrace of Semele would come out of the disaster with strength, as they had before. And to fuel this, was the knowledge of what might happen if the preparations were not made in time. A nation of men and women blinded by the skies itself, stolen their given gift of sights. Possibly robbed of much more as the lay exposed upon their Sea of Grass, unprotected by other dangers from above.
Solicah suddenly rose to his feet, his emotions not stalling or reeling in shock, the wooden chair beneath him skidding obnoxiously backward. The action happened without thought, and caught Solicah as much off guard as anybody else in the Hall. His mind had focused upon what he must do, but his body had not the freedom to move in such an appropriate manner. And so it took that freedom by force. His body felt the rush of fright from his mind and was ready to act beyond any reason or etiquette that might have held him seatbound. No tempering nature held this Drykas spirit from action, and so. As many of the eyes in the room moved toward him, he decided it best he speak his mind instead of stand in foolish silence.
First he spoke to his people, not the bearer of this horrid news. Niceties were of no concern of his immediate thoughts. "Brothers. Sisters." His voice was clear in flawless native Pavi, adorned with overly active motions. His usual flare of the gesture side of the speak only heightened by his sudden agitation, and anxious attempt to fight through the pressure he had brought upon himself by standing in order to construct somewhat coherent sentences out of vastly incoherent thoughts, and absolutely incoherent emotions. This lead to a very rigid and stressed, but quite impactful set of motions as the words rolled from his tongue. "There is no time for long speeches or lengthy debate today. This news must be spread and spread quickly. I have no doubt that all who are able will assist without question. In two bells I will ride out from the gates of Riverfall, and will fight to further the message bared by all those that ride with me in any way necessary." He thought for a moment if anything else might need to be said to his kine, but the answer came as an easy relief, the only that his mind held in that moment. His people knew what they must do, his words need not have been said, and that he knew. And for that reason he kept his words to a minimum, controlled and simple.
For the man that presented this message to them, and took time from his own cities preparations to offer shelter and more importantly warning to another nation, Solicah gave more care to grant thanks in that moment. If he took the moment to thank the Akalak for his nation than no other would need to speak, and the quicker they could all be ready to ride into the Sea of Grass, and the faster his home could prepare for what came. Leveling his eyes directly on Nevar he said, with honestly and only a little fear thick in his voice. "On behalf of myself, and my nation. Thank you for the time you have sacrificed to gather us together and share this dreadful prophecy with us, as well as the knights you have dispatched to warn Endrykas. I promise you we shall spread the word with the utmost haste, and with this message will enter a record of Riverfall's honor and kindness within my people. It shall not be forgotten." Then with the longest pause he had taken during his 'speech' he thought upon how to word the last of what he had to say, then with great deliberation and effort switched to Tukant, in which he said quite roughly, "Thank you. Stand fast against that which would topple you, friend."
Then, took a loud breath at the end of the very long winded sentence, shaking his curly topped head slightly to adjust his attention back to his people, to see if they had anything to add or replies to give. He hoped not. He would not have usually spoken when those older to him were present, but felt he spoke for his entire nation, and thus the individual voice did not matter, only the message. And that hope, he clung to with a bite of his lips, as finally some level of shame over his actions seeped into his mind.
