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41st of Fall, 514 AV
Early Afternoon
Change was seldom welcomed with a smile. There were always those who resisted it. There were always those who worked to prevent it. Change was coming for Zeltiva one way or the other and there were certainly those who did not like it.
Rumors had spread quickly throughout the city. The growing encampment upon the beach near the Cerulean Pier drew widespread attention. While the Iyvess tribe had brought with them little more than odd looks and weird dances in the sand around bonfires the authorities were still cautious. To that end the Wave Guard was dispatched upon their arrival to quarantine the beach. After just a few days it became apparent that such high security measures were utterly unnecessary on Zeltiva’s part. The Wave Guard presence was diminished but that didn’t prevent some concerned citizens reaching out to the community to “keep the peace”.
So far, the only peace that had been broken were a few startled fishermen and some very, very curious children. Nevertheless, the Dhani camp still received visitors and for the most part the Iyvess entertained guests with their own strange bit of hospitality. This included coercing them into wildly quirky dances, much joking, and impersonations of passerby’s. Wounded pride seemed to be the most common injury to anyone serving as the butt of an Iyvess joke. Over the past few days large groups of the tribe would vanish into the sea in the early morning only to return toward the evening with their catches of the day. And through it all, one woman among the Dhani stood out. Her head held high with arms clasped behind her back she surveyed the encampment stoically.
She was tall with ebony skin and piercing eyes so dark they were almost pitch. Her body was lean and bore the scars of many battles. Midnight black hair cascaded down her shoulders skirting across her frame, the only crown to mark the queen that she was. Though Iyvess had no queens and honored only the strength of those who proved themselves capable, this woman could have worn the title well.
Shikar, she was called in the Common tongue. She was second among her people only to the Chief. His absence weighed heavy on her mind. He was away from the Den speaking with the land-dwellers on where their people would fit in among the city. She surveyed the human city with suspicion. She didn’t like the land walkers. She didn’t trust them. They smelled not of the sea, nor did they sing the songs of the Deep. Still, the time of the Prophecy had come and like her Chief, her lifemate, she believed in the words of the ancient priestess.
Her dark eyes came to rest on one of the land walkers. They narrowed ever so slightly.
“You! Come. Question, I have.” She raised a hand pointing at the individual. Her voice brokered no arguments. The authority in her tone was beyond clear. She had spoken. She expected an answer.
41st of Fall, 514 AV
Early Afternoon
Change was seldom welcomed with a smile. There were always those who resisted it. There were always those who worked to prevent it. Change was coming for Zeltiva one way or the other and there were certainly those who did not like it.
Rumors had spread quickly throughout the city. The growing encampment upon the beach near the Cerulean Pier drew widespread attention. While the Iyvess tribe had brought with them little more than odd looks and weird dances in the sand around bonfires the authorities were still cautious. To that end the Wave Guard was dispatched upon their arrival to quarantine the beach. After just a few days it became apparent that such high security measures were utterly unnecessary on Zeltiva’s part. The Wave Guard presence was diminished but that didn’t prevent some concerned citizens reaching out to the community to “keep the peace”.
So far, the only peace that had been broken were a few startled fishermen and some very, very curious children. Nevertheless, the Dhani camp still received visitors and for the most part the Iyvess entertained guests with their own strange bit of hospitality. This included coercing them into wildly quirky dances, much joking, and impersonations of passerby’s. Wounded pride seemed to be the most common injury to anyone serving as the butt of an Iyvess joke. Over the past few days large groups of the tribe would vanish into the sea in the early morning only to return toward the evening with their catches of the day. And through it all, one woman among the Dhani stood out. Her head held high with arms clasped behind her back she surveyed the encampment stoically.
She was tall with ebony skin and piercing eyes so dark they were almost pitch. Her body was lean and bore the scars of many battles. Midnight black hair cascaded down her shoulders skirting across her frame, the only crown to mark the queen that she was. Though Iyvess had no queens and honored only the strength of those who proved themselves capable, this woman could have worn the title well.
Shikar, she was called in the Common tongue. She was second among her people only to the Chief. His absence weighed heavy on her mind. He was away from the Den speaking with the land-dwellers on where their people would fit in among the city. She surveyed the human city with suspicion. She didn’t like the land walkers. She didn’t trust them. They smelled not of the sea, nor did they sing the songs of the Deep. Still, the time of the Prophecy had come and like her Chief, her lifemate, she believed in the words of the ancient priestess.
Her dark eyes came to rest on one of the land walkers. They narrowed ever so slightly.
“You! Come. Question, I have.” She raised a hand pointing at the individual. Her voice brokered no arguments. The authority in her tone was beyond clear. She had spoken. She expected an answer.