The Cattle's Entrance (Solo)

[Treksha]

3rd of Summer, 512 AV 5th Bell His father's advice pulsed within his head. He could hear Shedhael's warning against Eypharians in his ear, as if the old man were standing beside him. “They will never accept you,” He would say, “You are nothing more than a slave in their eyes. Perhaps even less, you are weakness in their race.” Treksha hadn't realized what the man meant by “weakness” until he matured, realized that the proud Eypharians would never accept that one of their own had stooped to procreating with as lowly a creature as a chupra. Yet, despite everything he knew, the Benshira boy with golden skin was finally venturing into Ahnatep, the Eypharians' Eyktolian capitol. He simply had no idea what would happen, what he would encounter. The dunes turned to irrigated fields, which turned to the stone walls of pillared buildings. If not for the monstrous sandstone fortifications surrounding the city proper, the boy would have been convinced the chateaus and halls had grown from the hard-packed earth itself. The forecourt that lay before the gargantuan, stone-arched gate was packed with sweating travelers, yelling to be heard over the general din of the crowd. The caravans were coming into the city early in the morning, to beat the heat of summer that had recently rolled in during the daytime, and they eagerly yet slowly rode through the gate and into the city dripping with decadence and beauty. There were condescending looks by the dozens; Treksha didn't know whether it was his appearance, or the stench of unwashed skin and urine that he knew accompanied him that earned such disdain from the men around him. He could feel his quarterstaff, heavy against his back, and the weight of the pack he had slung next to the weapon. If the need arose, he could defend himself; his months of training had not been for naught. Like most travelers, he was hoping that need would never arise, and he would be able to get into the metropolis with no more than the looks of scorn. But the caravans continued steadily through the gate, and those who stared eventually turned away and went about their business. None had time enough to question him or his motives, they were all focused on their own selfish, hedonistic thoughts. They spoke to the ones traveling with them, often in Arumenic, of which Treksha could only understand snippets. There was some muffled Shiber, and the occasional shout in Common, but overall the din made specific words unintelligible, which suited the boy perfectly. He would rather not hear anything than hear words spoken of him, of slaves, or some sort of nightly debauchery no doubt partaken of in this borough of gluttony. Finally, it was his turn to venture through the portal and into the city itself. There were multiple six-armed guards manning the gate, but the caravans and travelers were let in without comment. They knew that to tax or stop the men traveling through would be to lose traders and, in turn, lose revenue for the city, so the guards there were more for show and occasional crowd-control than anything else. The throng of travelers soon mixed with a crowd of residents, all moving in a current which Treksha found himself in, unable to escape. He simply let the crowd take him where it would; he soon found himself traveling deeper and deeper into the city, seeing large tents and pavilions in the distance...

[Treksha]

The crowd finally parted, giving Treksha a chance to breathe, and when he took the time to inspect his surroundings, he found himself in a massive market, one that dwarfed anything he had seen in his travels. The tents that flanked the cobblestone streets had merchants peddling their wares in each and every one, men yelling about selling this and wanting to buy that. It was all a bit overwhelming for the Benshira boy, having never been in a city of this magnitude before, but it was also quite exciting. He started off into the Pavilion, peeking into tents where merchants were selling rugs, clothes, sandals, food, and everything else purchasable. Treksha's eyes strayed to a tent, a fraction of the size of the others, where a stooped old Benshiran man seemed to be setting out a small tray of bread. The Benshira's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since the night before, and he made the decision to buy bread from this decrepit man, who looked like he needed the money anyway. Treksha slowly made his way over to the man's tent, looking closely at the individual, small loaves of bread. They were circular loaves, of a texture that suggested they were made of barley, not wheat. “Are you thinking of purchasing a loaf, son,” The man asked in slightly accented Shiber, as if he had spent too long away from home and had not spoken his native language in years, “Or are you just planning to stand there?” The merchant's toothy grin expressed his jollity, and he laughed heartily at his little jest before uncovering more loaves of the same barley bread. “I am afraid I do not have much variety, but you will not find a better tasting or longer lasting barley bread in all of Eyktol.” He gestured toward one of the loaves, never letting that smile drop for a moment. “There is a secret, very safe ingredient inside that prevents the bread from going stale for a very long time, and I have seen loaves last for multiple seasons since I have started using it.” The man picked up a loaf, tearing into it and showing the coarse grains that looked so appetizing to the hungry boy, and took a bite. “Tastes so very good, also.” “I would very much like to purchase a loaf, yes,” Treksha replied to the merchant, pulling out four copper mizas and handing them to the man in exchange for two loaves of bread, “And I will keep one for later!” He matched the man's grin, then looked down at the loaves in his hand. “Is there any way I could get you to divulge your secret to me? I think being able to make bread that lasts so long would be quite the useful skill.” His tone was as sincere as it could be, and the man looked at him appraisingly. “You seem like a reasonable young man, and you speak Shiber very well,” The merchant said in reply, “So I suppose I could trust you with the secret. For a gold miza, of course.” He chuckled, eyeing Treksha and awaiting his response eagerly. “You have a deal, old man,” Treksha replied, pulling a gold miza out from his coinpurse and sliding it along the table. “Now, what is the secret?” The man's smile widened at the sight of the miza, and he looked directly into the boy's green and gold eyes with his own bright blue ones. “Acacia honey. You add acacia honey to the mix, and bake the bread at a lower temperature for longer. This adds a sweeter taste to the bread, in addition to keeping it fresh for longer. Also, only a minute amount is needed.” He tapped his temple, as if indicating that he was imparting important knowledge on his impromptu student, then pocketed the gold miza with a grin. “And you have a good day, young sir.” “Good day to you too,” Treksha replied, beaming at his newfound knowledge, “And thank you.” He walked away, tearing into one of the delicious loaves and putting the other in his pack. He had been worried about his treatment within the Eypharian city at first, but now? Now he was confident that he would do well. Things were already going his way.

[Colombina]

The XP Wand Is Waved! Welcome to Ahnatep! I can see you read some of the lore/ city info with the Acaia Honey/ Pavilion reference. Much appreciated! This thread is a wee bit short for any super awards, but I hope it was a good starter for you. Let me know if you need any help settling in. PC's Loot 1 XP Baking 1 XP Persuasion 1 XP Observation Lore of Acacia Honey in Cooking Lore of Ahnatep's Appearance Extras + two loaves of bread - 1 gm and 4 cm