Early Spring, 520 AV
Coast of the Suvan Sea, a few miles north of Syliras
The morning sun caused ripples of light to dance through the trees which hugged the beach. Lutro hopped off his moored castinor into the shallows, the water clear to his knee. He waded towards the beach, his cloth backpack heavy with produce. This was becoming routine: spend a day or two on the water, recharge, get away from the busy hub of the capital, then return with fresh fish to sell. He didn't make much and what he did make he spent in the Traveller's Row on cheap beer and cheaper bedding, but he was self sufficient and that was enough. It had been over a year since he left his pod and he hadn't met a single Svefra in that time. Honestly he was glad: his people didn't take kindly to one with no active pod and he was happy to keep his past behind him for now. Besides, once he was set up here he could continue his travels, to find where he really belonged. That was the plan, anyway.
Another reason to stay near the coastline was his gnosis. All Svefra were marked by Laviku and the dynamic blue tattoo spread across both arms showed that Lutro was no different, but the abilities he had grown up to take for granted were lacking in recent months. While he still felt most at home in the water, that deeper understanding was gone. Sea creatures avoided him and he struggled sometimes to know what was happening in the depths below him, which creatures were there and how the water was responding. He raised one finger to his lips and tasted. Salty. Saltier even than it had been the day before. Lutro shook his head and pulled his boots over his drying feet.
It was a short walk south to the Evantide Outpost, then he could wait for a caravan to take him to Syliras. The Kabrin Road was safe, supposedly, but Lutro had heard enough stories of dark creatures and missing merchants to risk traversing it before today. Instead he would wait by the roadside where he usually did, with a couple of coins to show to a passing tradesman in exchange for a lift.
That's exactly what he did this day. He had plenty of things to consider, from the condition of the fish in his pack to the rumours of a toxic fungus in the Great Bazaar. He steered clear of the deeper thoughts. As far as Lutro was concerned, he was done with the Seafoams - he still used his family name, but not for long. They were an old, small pod and were on the brink of collapse. Besides, male Svefra often started their own pod, or joined another. He could just do that, as soon as the opportunity arose.
Hours passed. It wasn't unheard of to wait for an hour or two until a caravan arrived, but the sun was arcing across the sky now. Syliras was a capital city after all, there was bound to be one soon. Lutro grew impatient and anxious. He weighed up his options: keep waiting as the day grew shorter and shorter, or set off by himself. It was just one road and was regularly patrolled by knights of Syliras. How many times had he travelled to Syliras with company over the last few months? One hundred, two hundred? An ever restless and headstrong Lutro made his mind up: today was the day he would brave the Kibran alone.
It was going well. A mile or two down the road and Lutro's spirits were raised. These stories were clearly exaggerated, nothing more than tales to tell around a campfire, to scare little children into behaving. In fact, Lutro found it difficult to admit, he was enjoying this stroll inland. It was an interesting trip when you had to plan it yourself. While the road itself was just one way, there were countless small trails leading off into the Wildlands. Each one could hold a thousand adventures, just waiting to be discovered. Lutro felt like a kid again and against his better judgement, set off down a well worn path.
It was hilly and dark, with thick tree coverage concealing the now afternoon sun, but the path was surprisingly well trodden. Lutro walked for a time, and came to a rock face which led down, perpendicular to the Kibran. It must have been an old quarry or mine, the cliff cropped in such a precise, manmade fashion. Lutro gazed down, fascinated. The moss and undergrowth were thick, clearly this hadn't been used for years, if not generations. Could it even be pre-Valterrian? He shook his head and spoke out loud in Fratava, his native tongue.
"Don't be foolish, this place couldn't have survived...
The first droplets of rain were finding their way through the canopy as he carefully made his way down the hill. Just imagine what he could find: ancient relics from a hundred years ago; tools and equipment from the local workers; at the very least interesting and at best worth a fortune. In fact, was that a glint in the brushes, a glimmer of something special at the bottom of the hill? The rain starting to lash down, Lutro picked up pace, excitement and romanticism overcoming his nerves and he felt the solid ground beneath him give way, his ankle slipping in his leather boots and he was falling, rolling head first down the steep embankment. With a sharp crack, he collided head first with a tree at the bottom of the hill. Everything went black.
Coast of the Suvan Sea, a few miles north of Syliras
The morning sun caused ripples of light to dance through the trees which hugged the beach. Lutro hopped off his moored castinor into the shallows, the water clear to his knee. He waded towards the beach, his cloth backpack heavy with produce. This was becoming routine: spend a day or two on the water, recharge, get away from the busy hub of the capital, then return with fresh fish to sell. He didn't make much and what he did make he spent in the Traveller's Row on cheap beer and cheaper bedding, but he was self sufficient and that was enough. It had been over a year since he left his pod and he hadn't met a single Svefra in that time. Honestly he was glad: his people didn't take kindly to one with no active pod and he was happy to keep his past behind him for now. Besides, once he was set up here he could continue his travels, to find where he really belonged. That was the plan, anyway.
Another reason to stay near the coastline was his gnosis. All Svefra were marked by Laviku and the dynamic blue tattoo spread across both arms showed that Lutro was no different, but the abilities he had grown up to take for granted were lacking in recent months. While he still felt most at home in the water, that deeper understanding was gone. Sea creatures avoided him and he struggled sometimes to know what was happening in the depths below him, which creatures were there and how the water was responding. He raised one finger to his lips and tasted. Salty. Saltier even than it had been the day before. Lutro shook his head and pulled his boots over his drying feet.
It was a short walk south to the Evantide Outpost, then he could wait for a caravan to take him to Syliras. The Kabrin Road was safe, supposedly, but Lutro had heard enough stories of dark creatures and missing merchants to risk traversing it before today. Instead he would wait by the roadside where he usually did, with a couple of coins to show to a passing tradesman in exchange for a lift.
That's exactly what he did this day. He had plenty of things to consider, from the condition of the fish in his pack to the rumours of a toxic fungus in the Great Bazaar. He steered clear of the deeper thoughts. As far as Lutro was concerned, he was done with the Seafoams - he still used his family name, but not for long. They were an old, small pod and were on the brink of collapse. Besides, male Svefra often started their own pod, or joined another. He could just do that, as soon as the opportunity arose.
Hours passed. It wasn't unheard of to wait for an hour or two until a caravan arrived, but the sun was arcing across the sky now. Syliras was a capital city after all, there was bound to be one soon. Lutro grew impatient and anxious. He weighed up his options: keep waiting as the day grew shorter and shorter, or set off by himself. It was just one road and was regularly patrolled by knights of Syliras. How many times had he travelled to Syliras with company over the last few months? One hundred, two hundred? An ever restless and headstrong Lutro made his mind up: today was the day he would brave the Kibran alone.
It was going well. A mile or two down the road and Lutro's spirits were raised. These stories were clearly exaggerated, nothing more than tales to tell around a campfire, to scare little children into behaving. In fact, Lutro found it difficult to admit, he was enjoying this stroll inland. It was an interesting trip when you had to plan it yourself. While the road itself was just one way, there were countless small trails leading off into the Wildlands. Each one could hold a thousand adventures, just waiting to be discovered. Lutro felt like a kid again and against his better judgement, set off down a well worn path.
It was hilly and dark, with thick tree coverage concealing the now afternoon sun, but the path was surprisingly well trodden. Lutro walked for a time, and came to a rock face which led down, perpendicular to the Kibran. It must have been an old quarry or mine, the cliff cropped in such a precise, manmade fashion. Lutro gazed down, fascinated. The moss and undergrowth were thick, clearly this hadn't been used for years, if not generations. Could it even be pre-Valterrian? He shook his head and spoke out loud in Fratava, his native tongue.
"Don't be foolish, this place couldn't have survived...
The first droplets of rain were finding their way through the canopy as he carefully made his way down the hill. Just imagine what he could find: ancient relics from a hundred years ago; tools and equipment from the local workers; at the very least interesting and at best worth a fortune. In fact, was that a glint in the brushes, a glimmer of something special at the bottom of the hill? The rain starting to lash down, Lutro picked up pace, excitement and romanticism overcoming his nerves and he felt the solid ground beneath him give way, his ankle slipping in his leather boots and he was falling, rolling head first down the steep embankment. With a sharp crack, he collided head first with a tree at the bottom of the hill. Everything went black.
