Where to Start? (Open)

by **Brodon Windriver** on March 16th, 2012, 8:14 am

Date:16th day of Spring, 512 av

"Don't be shy, Verrin" Brodon scolded good-naturedly as he pulled his oldest friend from the yvas of his bonded strider into a tight hug, "Just don't try to kiss me."

"I'd sooner kiss the back of a Glassbeak's throat, you sweaty dust bug.' Verrin responded, trying to keep his voice from cracking with emotion. They had been best friends as long as either could remember, and both were hard-pressed to address the issue of how sudden and profound the pain of separation was hurting them.

Brodon pulled away and went down the line of fellow riders that had accompanied them across the Sea of Grass to bring Brodon here. He shook hands and exchanged wishes of good fortune with each of them.

By the time he turned back, Verrin was looking down at him from the back of his strider, his eyes bright, his jaw rigidly set. He nodded and spoke what he knew may be the last thing he ever said to his truest friend, "May Zulrav's breath hasten your return, my friend."

"Safe paths, Verrin" Brodon smiled, "Watch over my mother while I am gone." He stretched his legs and spent a moment adjusting the simple,light cotton shirt and leggins he wore. He had learned quickly that lightweight, light colored clothes really did turn the heat back better than his leather. And the desert-style hood and neck-cover was a godsend to his sunburnt features.

"The CLAN will watch her, do not worry. Worry only about yourself, youngster" Korell, the oldest of the group said warmly but seriously, "These Eypharians can shake both your hands and still stab you twice in the back. Take care and do not hesitate to touch the web when you can."

"When I can." Brodon agreed and watched sadly as his friends, his brothers, his last sight of home turned as one mount and began their journey back to the tents, which would now begin its northern run up the border towards Kalea.

Brodon sighed and turned his sight towards the gates of the city before him. "Ahnatep" he muttered as he stroked the neck of his paintedmount, Lovaak. He turned and walked, knowing his horse would follow.

He whistled a trio of notes and clicked his tongue in a short pattern to let his pigeon, Prombus, know he hadn't forgotten him either. It was a general upbeat greeting to a new situation spoken in the Nari tongue. He grinned as he heard Prombus' warbled coo in reply, as it sat atop Brodon's small wooden shield, currently serving as the bird's perch.

Though the thought of his entry into this strange city was a daunting one, his need for answers outweighed his misgivings. The thought of shade, bed and bath was ample motivation as well. He would find an inn, he would find a market and he would find some answers, in that order, he told himself, as he approached the gate.

by **Brodon Windriver** on March 17th, 2012, 7:29 pm

The gatesmen waved him by, taking no additional interest him than they did in anyone else. The heat, already oppressive, grew quickly stifling as the walls blocked a good portion of the wind. The 'walled-in' feeling was not overwhelming, but it made him uncomfortable both in the sense of "no escape" and of having no forewarning of what may be approaching from beyond them. The smells, likewise, were distasteful if for no other reason than their unfamiliarity. He already missed the wholesome aroma of horse manure and grass.

The people were dressed colorfully enough. If not for the walls in the background, their light billowing shirts and leggings might pass for a fair model of Endrykas' Tents. He stopped to listen for a few minutes. The street musicians seemed proficient, though the scales and timings were a bit odd. In short order, though, he discovered he liked it. Exotic, but not difficult to follow.

The conversations added to the sense of peculiarity. The local language - Arumenic? Was that it? - was fluid and dynamic sounding. Fortunately for him, there was common as well, for he had no idea what the people were saying in arumenic, and would have to rely on body language to interpret. He doubted any Nari was spoken here, but that was probably as well, for he only knew such Nari as was connected to bird training.

He made his way through the streets, taking in the sights, drawing occasional glances, some friendly, some less. He came to a building he assumed to be an inn, due to the repeating pattern of windows and balconies on the upper levels and the sounds of socializing and the smell of food from the entrance.

He tied his mount loosely to a railing alongside several others and went in to see about a room, stabling accommodations and a meal. The innkeeper spoke common, which was understandable, and he quickly got all three for only 12 silver mizas a night. The 'Travelers' Package' the innkeeper called it and asked if he wanted a lock for his door for 5 more. Brodon decided this was prudent and nodded his understanding that the lock was only rented and would have to be returned upon departure.

After accompanying the stable boy to his horse's stall he brought Prombus back with him and asked the innkeeper if there was additional charge for his bird, assuring him it was trained and would cause no mischief. The innkeeper studied him for a second, then grinned widely, "Since you are so honest to be asking me up-in-the-front, I will be giving you pet permits, NO charge. Always aiming to please the customer is Mahib." he said with a bow and a gesture to himself.

"and Brodon is most grateful to his host for his generosity." he replied with the same bow and gesture, "and now I am going to go take a nap. Will there be a knock when the meal is prepared?"

"Of course, of course. No worrying for you, good sir."

Brodon thanked him and went upstairs to his room, where he dropped his backpack, placed the hooded cage holding Prombus on the table, slipped off his boots and flopped on the bed, slipping his belt pouch with his coin under the pillow. Tomorrow he would begin asking around.

by **Brodon Windriver** on March 20th, 2012, 4:56 am

Brodon awoke at the knock on his door. Recalling that this was to announce the evening meal, he thanked the messenger boy with a few copper mizas and went downstairs to the common room for his meal of fish and vegetable soup. The spices in the soup were stronger than he liked and he hoped it was not to cover the taste of vegetables nearing the brink of becoming rancid.

Finished, he went to the stables in back and collected Lovaak, and with Prombus perched atop the small wooden shield secured to his yvas, he took a leisurely ride just beyond the city walls. Dismounting and allowing Lovaak to trot about on his own, he put Prombus through his paces, practicing his simple trainings 'here and back', 'here and stay', 'here and there', 'alert call', 'come', 'follow' and 'hide' being sure to work them with both quiet warbles and loud whistles, so Prombus would recognize the same instruction in both aspects so he would respond whether Brodon was near or far.

Prombus still had trouble with some of them and Brodon was sure to praise him when he did it well, and not to express any dissatisfaction loudly, knowing that birds do not always know that volume means displeasure and may often take anger to be excitement, which may just as well be pleasure. He treated him to bits of boiled carrot with Millet seed, rolled in oats as a reward and Prombus never failed to devour them happily.

It was important to keep him well fed in this heat as birds will ruff their feathers to dissipate excess body heat, but ruffled feathers can also be a sign of respiratory distress and can hide weight loss, a possible symptom of severe problems. He knew Prombus would be a little less active in the heat of the room at the inn, but here outside, the breeze was refreshing and he was not concerned. Nonetheless, Prombus and he were both overdue for a bath.

Returning to the Inn at dusk, he brushed and groomed Lovaak, checked his feed, water and stall, and went back up to his room, where he checked Prombus' weight by perching him on the rim of his upturned shield and balancing it against a small bag of sand he kept just for this purpose.

He knew that with the heat and the start of molting season, Prombus might look a bit ratty now and then, so he would have to check him out a little more often, but that was just to be expected. He hooded his cage and, satisfied that they were settled in now, he went to bed, expecting to begin his search in earnest tomorrow.

by **Brodon Windriver** on March 22nd, 2012, 3:18 am

He came down the next morning and helped himself to the fruit and bread laid out on the sideboard in the common room. he paid Mahib for another day and decided to start with him.

"Mahib, my friend, could I trouble you to take a look at this?" he asked the innkeeper, who finished toweling off a rack of bowls and approached as Brodon unrolled a sheet of paper.

"What have you there, young sir?" he looked at the sketch on the paper, his brow furrowing as he turned it in several angles trying to identify it. "What IS this?"

Brodon was not surprised, but was still disappointed. It would hardly be quest-worthy for him to find the answer to his mystery on his very first question, but still he had hoped. "It is a sketch I drawed of a symbol that showed on my father's head...'s....side..." he tapped the side of his head - he wished he spoke common better - " a week after he took fall from his saddle for no reason."

"No reason for the symbol? or no reason for the fall?" Mahib asked, "and it is 'drew', not 'drawed', my friend."

"Drew...Well...both....in truth...He was in fine healthy one minute and was falling off his horse on the next. He has not awakened in the time since. I have left my people for seeking the meaning of this."

He went on to explain that there were no other indications of any afflictions, that his father's health did not seem to diminish, there was no wasting effect due to his coma. There was no bruising, besides the symbol itself and there were no indications of any bite or sting or discoloration or swelling. Nor had there been any dire portents or omens, no seers with prophecies of doom, No prior mysterious symbols on anything connected with his father, or even the clan overall.

Mahib eventually suggested that the men Brodon's father had been riding with may have done him some evil. Perhaps one of them wished to claim Brodon's mother as his own, or maybe his father had owed money or done him a bad turn in the past. Perhaps some rivalry. That there were poisons and sorcery that could mimic this result and then it would be a small matter to steal into his tent with some dye...

Brodon rose angrily from his chair and snatched his paper back from Mahib, decrying these suggestions as insulting and ridiculous. That his people would not stoop to such. That there are a number of honorable ways for people to seek redress of wrongs and that the clans would exile or execute any that practiced such things. His voice rose further as he defended his father in particular, certain that he would not DO something to merit such low treachery.

The fact that Mahib continued to correct his grammar as he ranted did nothing to improve his mood. As Brodon stormed out of the room, Mahib called after him, between chuckles, saying to check the Pavilion and the temples and maybe the Halls of Peret as well.

After angrily accosting several civilians, thrusting his sketch in their faces as they recoiled defensively, Brodon took several deep breaths and realized that he really ought to take Mahib's advice and find this 'Pavilion'.

A few inquiries later, in a friendlier tone, he got the directions he needed and went in search of the Anhatep marketplace, the Pavilion.

by **Brodon Windriver** on March 25th, 2012, 3:57 am

There was no mistaking the Pavilion market. Like a halfsize model of the city itself, the kiosks were of the same overall design, but the colors were as varied as the canopy designs. Onion domes, pyramids, ziggurats, tiers of domes and complex combinations of geometric patterns and pleats, fringes and flags. Some of the booths had stone walls and were truly styled like miniature homes and buildings, some like temples. Some with styles openly suggesting the nature of their wares, like a tack and saddle shop designed like a stable. Most, however, were simple affairs of poles set into stone blocks and braces supporting canopies.

There were not as many Eypharians here as the other parts of the city Brodon had visited, which was just as well, seeing as the exotic humanoids had eyed him with open disdain any time he approached, as though it was demeaning to them to even have to endure his presence. He supposed that some of the 'lesser' citizens present were here on behalf of their 'betters'.

He tried to ask only those who were not otherwise engaged and most were amiable enough to give his sketch a look, but none appeared to recognize the symbol there. More helpful were those that gave him suggestions as to whom he might ask with better chance of success. People in lines of work or training that brought them into contact with symbols and emblems, old and new. Cryptographers, anthropologists, cartographers, historians, scribes, priests, even tattooists.

Brodon was disappointed to find no better results amongst the few of these that he could find a moment to speak with. In the office of one historian, however, he noticed an intern do a subtle double-take, his eyes narrowing briefly. But when Brodon turned his attention to him, the man smiled politely, shook his head, shrugged and gave him a sympathetic look as he left the office.

As Brodon was passing back through the Pavilion, he noticed a vendor selling decorative basins of various materials. it occurred to him that this was just the thing he needed to give his bird, Prombus, a long-overdue bath. He would get some Mint leaves or Kale to spread upon it before he poured the water in it as the fumes helped to prevent mites and ticks.

He picked up a fired clay basin with a dark glaze that gave it a near mirror finish. As he held it up to look for thin spots in the glaze that might allow the water to penetrate the clay, he noticed a man watching him in the reflective surface. He didn't turn right away and instead replaced the basin and picked up a polished metal one to 'examine'.

It was the same man that had taken the unexpected interest in him at the historian's office. Brodon paid the vendor 10 silver mizas for the basin, turned and started towards the man, only to see him pull his sun hood and turn sightly to conceal his face as he took a few steps in the other direction.

Brodon passed him without a look or a word and lashed the basin to his horse, slowly leading him out of the market. Now and then he would cross behind his horse to adjust a strap or bag on the other side, taking note that the man was now following him.

He did not want to lead the man to his room at the inn, nor did he want to confront him openly in this foreign city, as, being the outsider here, he would no doubt end up being held to blame for any trouble that might result.

He needed a distraction.

by **Brodon Windriver** on March 29th, 2012, 5:11 am

Brodon pulled a few raisins from his saddlebags. He waved it in front of Prombus' eyes, leaned in and muttered a cooed series of chirps and clicks as he tossed the raisin to the base of a nearby wall, blocking the view of the man following him as he did so. He continued walking Lovaak through the streets of Ahnatep, Prombus perched, as usual, on the small wooden shield lashed to the side of his yvas.

After a few turns, he repeated the process, again cooing some sounds to Prombus and covertly tossing another raisin in a corner as Prombus watched it fall. Several blocks and a pair of turns later, he mimicked the procedure once again. Each time, he casually strode around Lovaak, taking the opportunity to see that the man was still behind him.

After yet one more short walk, he mimed a double take to no one in particular and made a gesture with his hand that was subtle but obvious enough to anyone watching him. He pulled his journal from his bag and tore a small strip from one of the pages, not hiding his actions from anyone this time. He pulled out his quill and ink and went through the motions of writing a short note on the strip of paper.

He tied it to Prombus' leg, gave him one last cooed message and tossed him lightly in the air. He turned back to Lovaak and grinned as he saw the man in the reflection, clearly unsure of which target was more important now, turning back and forth from Brodon, now tying his horse to a railing as if he meant to stay put, to the pigeon, flying back the way they had come.

If the man went after Prombus, he would make himself scarce, knowing that Prombus would follow the 'Here, There and Back' instruction he had given him, picking up the raisins as reward and flying back to the room at the inn. If not, he would eventually confront the man, inventing some story about the purpose of the note and seeing if he could trick information out of him that way. If not, he might have to resort to simply interrogating him.

He watched to see what the man did.

by **Brodon Windriver** on April 13th, 2012, 12:51 am

Brodon stepped inside the building, outside of which, he had tied his horse, Lovaak. It was a pottery store, and the heat and smells indicated that the kiln was in the same building. There were all manner of pots, trays, ewers, plates, jugs, cups and cookware of every shape, size and color, as well as beads and miniatures of animals, soldiers, buildings and even plants, some of marvelous detail. For a moment, Brodon forgot why he had come in.

Enthralled, he purchased a miniature horse, a Strider, the traditional mount of his people, and one that he would have been riding even now, if not for the disruption to his social progression caused by his father's sudden affliction. It was not only an endearing knick-knack, it would serve as a reminder to him to focus on his mission.

He was taken slightly aback by the 15 silver miza cost, but the proprietor assured him that the light glaze adorning the appropriate portions of the animal's coat contained a quality that gave a glow in low light, as many actual Striders were known to do.

He paid the cost, asking as he did where he might find some vegetables or spices for sale, since mint or kale might be found in either. He received directions along with encouragement to return, which he sincerely thought likely, and said so, and stepped back outside to find no sign of the man that had been following him. He smiled, untied Lovaak from the railing and hurried to return to the inn. It would not do for Prombus to wait long to receive his praise for following his training. And he needed a bath.

by **Brodon Windriver** on April 17th, 2012, 4:27 am

The shadows stretched to cover much of the street by the time Brodon reached the inn. No doubt Prombus had returned a short while ago at least.

The kale had not cost much - 8 copper mizas for 4 hand-sized leaves - but the mint had been 5 times that! He decided to use 2 of each. They could be used twice if within a few days, so he could see Prombus properly bathed four times. As for himself, he would ask Mahib about reserving the tub when he went inside.

As he entered the common room, he whistled for Prombus to hear his arrival. Expecting to hear nothing in return, he was instantly wary upon hearing a warble in return. Given the distance to the room upstairs and the closed door, Prombus must have warbled quite loudly, his 'alarm' call!

Not wanting to give away his suspicion, he called up the stairs, "That's a pretty boy, I am got surprising for you!" He took a couple steps up and then turned to face back down the stairs, feigning a response to Mahib, "What? The tub is only for using right now?" he called back up the steps, "Sorry, Prombus, guessing I am first, but I am got some honeyed millet seeds for you when I am did!"

As he went towards the door, meaning to go back and get a few items from the stable, Mahib motioned to him and pointed towards the door behind which the tub was located, "Young sir, I think you are mistaken, the -"

Brodon winced and put a finger to his lips, pointing at the ceiling, then waved him over. "Someone in my room is not being my guest. I want for trapping him to see why he, or who, follows me."

Ever one to enjoy being in on a trick, Mahib resumed his conversation, loudly enough to be heard upstairs, and with an angry tone as though Brodon had been accusing him of padding his prices, "You see? As I said, the bath soaps are not included in your rent. You will have to get your own or pay extra!"

Brodon play-acted exasperation, "Fine, fine! I am having some in my bags. Is it costs...ex...tra...for the water being hot?" he called sarcastically as he went out the front door.

"On such a day, you want the water HOT?....Idiot!" Mahib chuckled as he went back to the bar.

by **Brodon Windriver** on April 26th, 2012, 1:16 am

Brodon returned with his whip and his staff, as well as his all-purpose knife. He looked a question at Mahib, who shook his head. None of the other patrons seemed to take any note of him. Brodon took a look up the stairs as if willing his would-be assailant to come down where they would be on equal terms. He had no doubt there would be nasty surprises in his room designed to give his adversary an edge and he had no intention of falling victim to them.

When his enemy was foiled, he could take his time searching his room for traps, but for now he would wait. He felt it likely that his adversary was on a time limit of some sort and would not wait long before emerging, whether he had bought into Brodon's phony bath scenario or not.

A sudden apprehension gripped him as he realized that the scenario was only phony because it was not HIM in the bath right now. What if his assailant opted to use a bow or blowgun instead of a garrotte or knife? Had he just put an innocent bystander in danger?

He pressed his ear to the door of the bath chamber. The sounds of gentle splashes and soft humming greeted him, the voice too soft to determine gender. He grew anxious and went back to the stairs, giving a whistle to see if Prombus would answer with another 'alarm' warble.

There was no response.

by **Brodon Windriver** on April 29th, 2012, 7:37 pm

Prombus was either no longer alarmed or whatever he had been alarmed about before had silenced him. He began to creep up the stairs, the thought of Prombus being silenced tearing at his emotions.

When he got eye-level to the floor, he noticed soft light showing beneath his door. He had not left the candle burning. His room should have been darker. He had left the window open to allow Prombus to return, but the drapes were left closed.

He whistled softly and was profoundly relieved to hear Prombus' soft warble in reply. So he was no longer alarmed. He crept to the door and carefully examined the lock. It was still engaged. Either someone had an accomplice who re-closed the lock after letting his partner in, or no one had come in through the door.

Then his stupidity hit him like a bludgeon. The window, of course! Growing up in tents you don't worry so much about locks and he had thought nothing of leaving his window open, drapes or not. But if Prombus was not alarmed then the intruder must have left by the window, and only very recently.

It also hit him that whoever was waiting for him might not know exactly what he looked like, assuming that anyone coming through his door besides the innkeeper would be him. Which meant that his ruse about bathing would not only be a danger to the person currently using the tub from range, but up close as well. The intruder would not sneak in and realize that it was not Brodon in the tub.

Brodon prayed he was wrong. Perhaps there was no intruder in the first place. Maybe another guest had a bird and it had responded to his whistle earlier. Just the same, he strode back down the stairs to check the sounds from the bath chamber again.