13th Day of Fall in 514 A.V.
Bored and with a rare afternoon off from his duties with the Fang, Zukwa traipsed through the streets of Taloba. Seku was in meetings with Panglima and the Fang had no assigned duties at the moment. Zukwa had been invited to go drink with the others but had declined, he was in an odd mood. The city in the middle of Falyndar’s chaotic jungles was a bastion of all that he loved of the Myrian culture. It’s structures were impressive and lined with moss and bones, vines and tree trunks. The jungle lived within the city. It lived within each Myrian. Zukwa let his fingertips run across the smooth bark of a tree as he passed. It was warm to the touch under Syna’s glowing rays.
Meat fizzled from a makeshift vendor on the other side of the narrow alley. The smell of cooking wild boar made his mouth water, but he did not stop. Zukwa had decided shortly after abandoning his Fang to their own merriment that he would spend the afternoon reflecting on his goals. Tokoh in short, and Panglima in long. But above both he wanted to serve with the eyes of Myri, the Mengintai.
But the Mengintai were ghosts to him. They stalked and crept through life with a grace and stealth that could fool even one of the tigers. He was a cumbersome fool who could almost shoot a bow. He needed to cultivate the ability to watch, to obverse, to understand, and to follow. He decided that he was going to practice here, today, in Taloba. Zukwa was walking, carefree, through the streets of Taloba, but he was also following a man who was peddling jungle cat pelts. He had been following him for the better part of an hour now.
Zukwa had started this exercise on a whim as a woman passed and he thought heavily about ways to become more attractive to the Mengintai. In the exercise the rules were that he could not be identified as following the target, and he would need to get close enough to hear him if he interacted with anyone.
Zukwa had failed four times, once even being confronted angrily by a female carrying a child. This man seemed to be a singularly unobservant fellow though. The archer walked lazily on the opposite side of the street from the peddler, two dozen steps behind him. He was just close enough to hear calm words if he listened hard. Mostly the man continued to announce his wares.
Zukwa felt the hard packed dirt of the street unyielding to his bare feet. He liked to believe he had been improving. At one point the man turned around to glance behind him. He carried pelts over both shoulders so he had to turn all the way around to look. Zukwa had seen the move and slipped smoothly behind a damp stone wall that had been conveniently placed just so. He paused a moment and glanced down the alley. Two warriors were bickering over a set of daggers on the other end, but it was empty otherwise.
Zukwa leant over so that he could see down the street. The peddler was walking again, announcing his wares. Zukwa had decided that he would try to finger out the detailed of each sale the man made, without him knowing. He had failed in the last three sales, sacrificing the snooping for stealthy hiding places. But he would succeed!
Bored and with a rare afternoon off from his duties with the Fang, Zukwa traipsed through the streets of Taloba. Seku was in meetings with Panglima and the Fang had no assigned duties at the moment. Zukwa had been invited to go drink with the others but had declined, he was in an odd mood. The city in the middle of Falyndar’s chaotic jungles was a bastion of all that he loved of the Myrian culture. It’s structures were impressive and lined with moss and bones, vines and tree trunks. The jungle lived within the city. It lived within each Myrian. Zukwa let his fingertips run across the smooth bark of a tree as he passed. It was warm to the touch under Syna’s glowing rays.
Meat fizzled from a makeshift vendor on the other side of the narrow alley. The smell of cooking wild boar made his mouth water, but he did not stop. Zukwa had decided shortly after abandoning his Fang to their own merriment that he would spend the afternoon reflecting on his goals. Tokoh in short, and Panglima in long. But above both he wanted to serve with the eyes of Myri, the Mengintai.
But the Mengintai were ghosts to him. They stalked and crept through life with a grace and stealth that could fool even one of the tigers. He was a cumbersome fool who could almost shoot a bow. He needed to cultivate the ability to watch, to obverse, to understand, and to follow. He decided that he was going to practice here, today, in Taloba. Zukwa was walking, carefree, through the streets of Taloba, but he was also following a man who was peddling jungle cat pelts. He had been following him for the better part of an hour now.
Zukwa had started this exercise on a whim as a woman passed and he thought heavily about ways to become more attractive to the Mengintai. In the exercise the rules were that he could not be identified as following the target, and he would need to get close enough to hear him if he interacted with anyone.
Zukwa had failed four times, once even being confronted angrily by a female carrying a child. This man seemed to be a singularly unobservant fellow though. The archer walked lazily on the opposite side of the street from the peddler, two dozen steps behind him. He was just close enough to hear calm words if he listened hard. Mostly the man continued to announce his wares.
Zukwa felt the hard packed dirt of the street unyielding to his bare feet. He liked to believe he had been improving. At one point the man turned around to glance behind him. He carried pelts over both shoulders so he had to turn all the way around to look. Zukwa had seen the move and slipped smoothly behind a damp stone wall that had been conveniently placed just so. He paused a moment and glanced down the alley. Two warriors were bickering over a set of daggers on the other end, but it was empty otherwise.
Zukwa leant over so that he could see down the street. The peddler was walking again, announcing his wares. Zukwa had decided that he would try to finger out the detailed of each sale the man made, without him knowing. He had failed in the last three sales, sacrificing the snooping for stealthy hiding places. But he would succeed!
