Fall 12, 515 AV
East Street near the Docks
Zeltiva was cold. On that evening, huddling into her coat with the hood up and cleaning her old pipe with stiff fingers, Estrellir discovered the heart of the town she’d entered recently. It was cold, it stank of salt and fish. Not that she wasn’t used to vast bodies of water, but the Suvan had always been friendly, inviting. The Sebakem, on the other hand, and its port town had greeted her with remarkable hostility.
Putting the rusty knife back into her boot, the Konti emptied her pipe on the pavement, knocking it against the stone a couple of times, before refilling it with Rajor tobacco. She took a moment to inhale the rich dark aroma before lighting it with meticulous care. The stash she’d brought down from Kenash had already dwindled on the journey – she was determined not to waste another grain if she didn’t have to. When a tiny spark flickered between her hands, she was tempted to let it burn for the warmth it radiated. Of course, smoking would warm her too, from the inside.
Eventually she slipped the freezing mouthpiece between her lips for the first greedy inhale. As the smoke filled her mouth, she stretched her legs and relaxed her shoulders. For the first time in ten chimes, Estrellir paid attention to her surroundings again. The sea breeze still ruffled her white locks and tugged at the hood. She had claimed a spot by the water for herself, a stretch of the pier between the Sailor’s Quarter and East Street.
From her seat on the icy cobblestone, she had a breathtaking view of the docks and Matthew’s Bay. After half a bell, however, she still hadn’t decided on whether the things and people viewed were actually interesting. Of course, you never wasted time people watching, but Estrellir had already been in Zeltiva for a few days. She had passed the stage of mere looking and moved on to looking for. For what? Oh, but how would she know?
Sighing, the Konti gave a long hard look over her shoulder to inspect the people walking by on the street. Either sailors or shady creatures, half a breath away from criminals. Some muscled and hardened men with an air of importance to them, city guards. Few scholarly types, if any. They preferred a different kind of neighborhood.
Estrellir had a good idea of what she wanted that moment. First, she wished for a warm place to curl up in, preferably with an open fire. Then, she wished for a drink, something vile and strong. Lastly, a good conversation partner would sit and pass the time with her, although that last point could be neglected in favor of the other two. Sighing again, she folded her legs, one foot dangling over the edge, and sent another cloud of smoke towards the sky. Her violet gaze wandered over black waters as thoughts came to linger on the divine.
Akajia help me.
East Street near the Docks
Zeltiva was cold. On that evening, huddling into her coat with the hood up and cleaning her old pipe with stiff fingers, Estrellir discovered the heart of the town she’d entered recently. It was cold, it stank of salt and fish. Not that she wasn’t used to vast bodies of water, but the Suvan had always been friendly, inviting. The Sebakem, on the other hand, and its port town had greeted her with remarkable hostility.
Putting the rusty knife back into her boot, the Konti emptied her pipe on the pavement, knocking it against the stone a couple of times, before refilling it with Rajor tobacco. She took a moment to inhale the rich dark aroma before lighting it with meticulous care. The stash she’d brought down from Kenash had already dwindled on the journey – she was determined not to waste another grain if she didn’t have to. When a tiny spark flickered between her hands, she was tempted to let it burn for the warmth it radiated. Of course, smoking would warm her too, from the inside.
Eventually she slipped the freezing mouthpiece between her lips for the first greedy inhale. As the smoke filled her mouth, she stretched her legs and relaxed her shoulders. For the first time in ten chimes, Estrellir paid attention to her surroundings again. The sea breeze still ruffled her white locks and tugged at the hood. She had claimed a spot by the water for herself, a stretch of the pier between the Sailor’s Quarter and East Street.
From her seat on the icy cobblestone, she had a breathtaking view of the docks and Matthew’s Bay. After half a bell, however, she still hadn’t decided on whether the things and people viewed were actually interesting. Of course, you never wasted time people watching, but Estrellir had already been in Zeltiva for a few days. She had passed the stage of mere looking and moved on to looking for. For what? Oh, but how would she know?
Sighing, the Konti gave a long hard look over her shoulder to inspect the people walking by on the street. Either sailors or shady creatures, half a breath away from criminals. Some muscled and hardened men with an air of importance to them, city guards. Few scholarly types, if any. They preferred a different kind of neighborhood.
Estrellir had a good idea of what she wanted that moment. First, she wished for a warm place to curl up in, preferably with an open fire. Then, she wished for a drink, something vile and strong. Lastly, a good conversation partner would sit and pass the time with her, although that last point could be neglected in favor of the other two. Sighing again, she folded her legs, one foot dangling over the edge, and sent another cloud of smoke towards the sky. Her violet gaze wandered over black waters as thoughts came to linger on the divine.
Akajia help me.
