             |
Heard in Haven: July 1999Title: One on the Road... Very early in the morn, when mist hangs in the air before making its way to the ground to turn the world into prisms of light upon the rising of the sun, there is seen a strange man, dressed in drab colors, those of ash and mud and wearing what looks to be a turban around his head. Just below the fabric of this odd wrap peeks the tail of something black, perhaps a tattoo, from between his eyebrows. With a look, left and right, once out of the main gates of Haven, a wooden staff in one hand, a bag bulging full of... something, he starts a journey away from the city, in an indeterminate direction. Later, some begin to notice the absence of a particular Hound, a rookie Guard just recently entered into the Bastion's ranks... Title: Empyrean Trade Minister The news kind of trickles out in a way that hints, to the world, that it was meant to. From the Palladium comes news that one Malachi Tritonides has been selected as the Trade Minister for the Empyreal government. Now, this doesn't affect probably ninety percent of the world's population. However, there's a class of people in each of the governments that may find this information valuable should they wish some manner of trade deal with the Empyreans. Reports hint the man is still settling into the job, and as a result may still be a little uncertain of his placement. Some just may consider this a prime time to speak with Malachi. About the only grumblings that come from the appointment remain inside the Palladium. These people ask how a man so apparently estranged from the family of his birth could be a good choice. As is obvious, the people who appointed Malachi aren't concerned with the fact enough to disqualify him. Title: Praetorians in the Tent City Almost conspicuous in their absence within the refugee camp, Praetorians were not seen within its confines. Yet, this came to an abrupt halt as Optio Cyrano was seen speaking with Shakir Al'Samar near the Delphic Healing Clinic. Now, a few Praetorians have taken to visiting the tent city. Among the Empyrean refugees, a rumor abounds that Optio Cyrano will give any family a turkey if they come forth with information regarding the missing women and children. Often among the more common-born, the response to this rumor is a derisive, "Let him eat tongue," followed by laughter. Title: No Longer an Orkie "Hey Darkin, you hear 'bout that Atlantean philosopher guy, Karijou?" "You mean the guy who corners cats in alleys and 'teaches' them?" "No, not him, Karijou, the guy who always has students about him in the Rialto!" "Oh, him? No, what happened to 'im?" "Nothing happened to him, ya numbskull, he did something." "What?" "'e went and renounced his Citizenship with the Orcinus!" "Yeah right! And how would you know even if he did?" "One of his students bought something from me, was complaining about how he couldn't get his lessons 'cause the guy didn't feel like giving lessons for a week. Oi asked 'im about why, and he told me." "Yeah whatever Kaln, I still don't believe that fish story." Title: Delphic Bay Blockaded?!? Has Haven become part of some watery game of chess? In a fairly subdued fashion, more warships have come close to Haven, and another move appears to have been made in whatever game of brinkmanship the Atlanteans are playing, bringing new players to the board. The Pandion have arrived. Thirty Atlantean warships flying pennons of gold-on-blue have strung themselves across the mouth of Haven Bay, just past the waters under Delphi's dominion, and within the waters of the Ormani. As a handful gathered on the docks to see the vessels take their positions, a squad of Pandion warriors led by an Atlantean calling himself Pandion Ranaka came ashore and presented themselves to the Ormani Decemvir, Orman Kai. It would appear that the warships have come to Haven at Kai's request. A flexing of muscle for the upstart Orcinus, perhaps, even as "pilgrims" continue to enter Haven to hear Kuronbo's Vision. Or mayhaps an expression of displeasure with Delphi, for allowing the Orcinus vessels to anchor within Delphic waters. One fear is almost immediately dispersed, though. The Bay is not being blockaded -- trade vessels pass freely between the score and ten Pandion ships, although all are followed by the shadow of shapes beneath the water. Title: Have you seen THEM? As two Delphic novices stroll through the Rialto, their youth perhaps causing a bit more discretion than one might hope... "I'm telling you, Jenna, I haven't seen either of them in over a week!" "Gah... you're such a halfbreed's mother sometimes, Clair. The talk is both of them ran off to Civitas Dei for their honeymoon or something..." A tongue is stuck out toward Jenna, "Don't talk like that... I'd think you've been hanging out in Bordertown again or something. And how can THOSE two run off, don't they have work to do?!" "Shhh," Clair glances back toward the pair's escorts, "Keep yer' mouth shut... I don't want them to suspect. And besides... it isn't like we can't live without out 'em." A frown forms on Janna's face, but she doesn't push the first issue, "But she's an Estrel... and he's the Archon... it just doesn't seem... well, right!" "Bah... they're just Empyreans..." A firm jab comes from the one of the Adepts following the pair, "You two'd best not discuss such things in public... you're bound to bring trouble." He steps back again, the four moving onward through the masses... Title: Decree Posted at Atesh-Gah "By the might and power of his Immortal Majesty, Khalid Atar, and the grace of the Maharani, Thalia Khalida, let it be known that the petition of divorce by Lais al-Jehan Khalida, on behalf of his sister Shahar, has been granted and the marriage between Kiral Khalida and Shahar al-Jehan Khalida is no more, dissolved this seventh day of December, 3904. With the blessings of the Divine Flame shall Shahar Khalida, beloved child of Khalida, be considered unmarried once more with no taint upon her from the divorce decree. We confirm her in her positions of Pasha and Shakir and further instruct Kiral Khalida to return the bride-price in full before this month ends. So we have spoken, so shall it be." Title: Avalon Under Siege? Since the departure of the Mongrel band bound for the former Empyreal province of Arelate, speculation has run rampant as to the state of their being. Rumors continue to circulate about what is going on in the new nation of Avalon. Those with their ear to the ground in Haven might have heard any of the following mutterings:
Due to the distance from Haven, it is difficult to confirm the veracity of any of these rumors, but with winter fast approaching, it remains to be seen if this new nation will survive. Thus far, one would be hard-pressed to find a Mongrel or Outcast which returned from Arelate, but if you listen to the rumor-mongers, the destruction of this new land is only a scant few months away. If not from within, then from without, or from the very elements themselves. Still, there are those who swear that living with any of these hardships and being free would be better than being a slave. Maybe they are right? Title: Demise of Orman Kai The proclamation comes from the Ormani within Haven that Orman Kai, august Decemvir of the Orman, has perished after a brief illness. Throughout Haven it becomes known that witnesses confirmed, at his death-bed, Kai's selection of Orman Riva as his successor. A celebration of Orman Kai's life has been commanded by Decemvir Riva, and in the succeeding days, events involving the Ormani shall be restricted to paying homage to her predecessor. Throughout Haven and the Ormani city of Lyanesse, across the oceans to other Atlantean populations, this announcement shall be carried to ensure all know of the loss of Orman Kai and the assumption of Orman Riva of the rank of Decemvir, proudly witnessed by many. Title: Tour Guide's To-do List Entries for the day after Orman Kai's death:
Title: Strange Occurrences in the Bay With the death of the Ormani Decemvir, it seems that the presence of the Atlantean war-fleets have been eclipsed by the much larger event. However, there are talks of strange happenings amongst the dark ships of the Orcinus... and it is quite the strange enigma. Instead of preparing for war or for mourning, the Flagship of the Kurofune Sentai has sailed to a spot of the bay opposite of the rest of the fleet. There are rumors of crew-members of the Fukakoku being driven off the vessel and reassigned to the other vessels of the Kurofune Sentai. This fact is surpassed in mystery only by the fact that all those reassigned were Atlantean females. Title: Everyday Rumors In reaction (perhaps mourning, perhaps celebration) of all the earth- and ocean-shattering political events in and around Haven of late, Shim-and-Theno's Smithy is having a sale on domestic items! Nails, horseshoes and lamps are all priced for the Everyman. Mishaps from Delphi level your home? Shimone's tools never fail! Need to keep out over-curious Outcasts? Thenomain's locks befuddle even him! Upset by psychic death-knells? Our toys are soothing and great for the kids! So come on down today, as or even before you need it! Title: In Reaction The Memphis' flag, a black-colored flag with a white strong arm, upholding a sword, whip coiled at the bottom and heart floating towards the center, is now at half-mast in recognition of the Decemvir, Orman Kai's, death. Also, the men of the Memphis have not been seen in the Siren's Song since the death of the Atlantean King. There is no revelry aboard the ship. And even if the Atlanteans celebrate the raising of a new leader, the Memphis and its crew do nothing more than silently go about their duties. It is by order of the Captain. Title: Mourning Among the Atlanteans The news travels as quickly as thought can carry it: Orman Kai is dead. Orman Riva rules, in his place. As his clearly named Heir, her assumption of the role of Decemvir occurs almost without thought -- the Ephorate approving almost without question the witnessed final wish of Orman Kai. The Pandion ships within Ormani waters drape their ships with mourning-grey barding and sails. Grey banners hang limply in the cold air, from every cranny of the Korallion. With a very few exceptions, every resident of Orman's capital, the Korallion, dons stormcloud-grey clothing, ties stormcloud-grey ribbons to their weapons, substitutes mourning jewelry of grey pearl and grey mother-of-pearl for their usual finery. In the Atlantean quadrant of Haven, Ormani merchants do the same, with one innovation: their mourning banners are edged with black and silver, the colors of the Orcinus. A statement, perhaps, on the circumstances some believe may have contributed to the demise of the Ormani Decemvir. But accusation or no accusation, the trappings of mourning are for not one, but two good reasons: on the heels of the news of Kai's death comes the news of his Queen and wife's death, in Lyanesse, a scant half-day earlier. Title: The Chronicle Begins Soft light glows from the brass lantern hanging from the wall. Shadows flicker upon the uneven earthen walls. The dull roar of the nearby sea is an underlying music to the place, never ceasing in both its sound and feel. It is as alive as any biological being in its presence within this seaside cave. Within the seclusion of the cave, a woman settles herself upon a red and black ornate cushion. A glance about the room reveals that the cushion is one of the few items of luxury within the Spartan surroundings. She kneels before a clean small boulder that serves as a desk. Putting hand to quill pen, she dips the pen in ink and begins her chronicle. Slowly and meticulously, the characters scroll across the fine paper, an exercise in artistic calligraphy. The journal begins, "In the year of 3904, in a small pivotal town known as Haven, it came to pass...." Title: Rumors Galore! Bep -- for years a faithful servant to House Jove -- comes running to her sister Truus -- for years a faithful servant to House Acesius -- to give her the latest bit of hot gossip from House Jove. Bep: They did it, they finally did it! Truus: Who done what. When? Where! Bep: The family finally decided it's enough. Truus: What enough! Bep: Helena has a suitor... Truus: The poor man! Who is he? Bep: Thorn Alexandrian or something, you know the one who claimed they were romantically involved when they arrived in Haven together? Truus: The poor, poor man. Is it the money he needs? Bep: No idea sis, all I know that she wants to know none of him! Truus: Oh no, her one chance at a respectable life *burp* and she throws it away like that? Bep: All I know she's throwing vases and whatnot at him. And the things she calls him! Truus: Ah, true love, I tell you... Bep: Bah, no such thing! Seen her all cuddly with that criminal? Truus: Which one now? That merchant Orion she kissed in the gardens? Always thought he charged way too much... Bep: Nope, the Astorius guy or something. Didn't he slice the Emperor's throat himself? Truus: Nah, don't think so. Did he? Bep: Dunno, but... The topic of conversation may drift, but the story is out... Title: Kai Heralds announce that former Decemvir, Orman Kai, will be laying in state in the Hall of the Black Pearl at the Korallion for those who would like to pay their respects or keep vigil with the family until such time as he is moved to Atlantis (tomorrow afternoon). Refreshments are buffet style in the entry hall for those who would share their memories of him or visit. Title: Ambush The latest gossip in the Rialto might go something like this: "Did you see?" "They came out of the sky! Just swooped down like a murder of crows... all in black, even their wings, and wearin' masks..." "Murder is right. I tell you, we won't see the Minister alive. 'Nless they're holdin' him for ransom." "But who? Who would do it?" "They flew, you said? Empyreans. They're still chafing from the war and that damned treaty..." "But the ones who attacked Khalida's guards were on foot. And these were Agni-Haidar, these guards. Nigh-unstoppable." "Well, they were stopped, all right. I was there. Two of 'em went down before there was any firing." "How?" "I don't know, I don't know, but... there was that feeling that went through the whole city -- you know, the night the Ormani Decemvir passed on? Couldn't shake it for days, myself. Could be related?" "All I know is that it's gettin' so it's no longer safe to walk the streets around here...." Title: Murder in the Siren Morning at the Siren -- well, just about sunup, as things are quieting down for the night -- is rather rudely disturbed by the sound of Tara, one of Jenean's girls, having hysterics, and then being noisily sick. Needless to say, various of the Siren's regulars are quickly on the scene, and a couple of them are likewise in danger of losing their breakfast. It appears that someone -- a mongrel -- has been murdered in one of the Siren's rooms, and rather brutally mutilated. The name Kyklos is carved into his naked chest. Title: Angry Cyprian Two Hounds in the Bastion: "Didya see that Jenean earlier?" "Aye. I thought her and the Archon got on." "Me too. Dunno what he said to make her storm out of his office like that." "Mm. Tarsius says she came into the Siren and went straight upstairs, and he heard a door two floors up practically bounce off its hinges." "Oh? And what was Tarsius doing in the Siren?" Title: Scandalous Spring Chickens! "Rosa!" A mongrel lad perhaps twenty or so years of age came dashing into the atrium of House Jove, gaining more than a few distasteful stares from the noble occupants of the chamber. "Rosaaa!" he calls again, softer this time, and a slave of similar age moved to greet him. "What do you want, Escius?" When his friend moves to respond to the question, Rosa first moves toward a corner where no-one will hear them and pick up on what looks to be wonderfully juicy gossip. "Well?" she whispered. "What is it?" "You will not believe what I saw!" Escius beamed and began to relate his news: "I was just in the baths, preparing everything for the morning bathers, when I saw those two--" "Who?" "I was just going to say! Lirani and that guy who just came here a little while ago... Octavian, I thinks, were in the baths together!" "In the baths together?" "I think so... He didn't really say whether they were in the baths together or whatever, but that's enough! It was dark out, and no-one else was in the area." "We-e-ell... That's not so interesting..." "But I heard she asked Decimene for a bowl of oil." Silence. Then, the two broke into peals of laughter, earning more angry glares. "Y'know," Rosa comments, "Chevra said she saw him giving her a love-letter or something a few days ago.." "Heh... This is good." A wolfish smile crossed Escius's countenance, and he departed from the corner, mind full of gutterish thoughts about the two Jovians. Title: Changes In House Thanatos The annoucement came almost unnoticed among the other doings of the Palladium and in the wake of such upheaval among the Atlanteans, but for those keen of ear and eye, word filters out of the Empyrean sector that Andromache Selene Thanatos, Regent for her son, Astyanax, has renouced his claim upon that House. The boy, the illegitimate child of the previous Patriarch Raziel, has had his claim renounced in favor of the Aegian Princeps Leonidas Severinus Thanatos. Title: In the Sky... On Friday, December 26th of the year 3904, the city of Haven fell to darkness. A day that, while cold, had been bright with light dropped into shadow with the passing of the moon before the sun. This celestial event coincided with the end of a speech being given by the Orcinus Heir, Kuronbo, on the beach to a crowd of Atlantean pilgrims, and a number of others gathered to listen curiously. The Atlanteans reacted with fear to the event, as did a great many surface-dwellers, though it was the former that evinced true panic and retreated into the ocean. When the sun finally reappeared -- relieving many who expected the sky to remain dark endlessly -- Kuronbo and his Pallid Warriors had disppeared, leaving the fleet gathered in the bay staffed only by its regular crew. Rumors hint that the dark Atlantean's sister will step in, to take his place, but for now the Atlanteans seem to care little. The event -- seen as a sign from Pasiphae by some, as a freak event by others -- has left things in a temporary and wary peace. Title: Ague in the Tent City Once again, disease has raised its ugly head in the city of tents. The hot, wet summer followed by the wet fall resulted in a proliferation of insects which appears to be the harbingers of a new plague that has infected the refugee denizens. Many of the Empyrean refugees are stricken with an ague that will not disperse, despite the beleaguered efforts of the volunteers and Delphic healers. The sounds of coughing signal the onset of the ague and few that catch the disease are surviving. Murmurings from the Delphic clinic suggest that healers are overwhelmed by the ferocity of the plague and its relentless desire to kill its victims. The number of refugees in the tent city are dropping and some people on the streets of Haven was heard to say, "Good riddance to bad rubbish," even as the Varati in charge of the food distribution network hired more mongrels to aid in the burial or burning of the dead. Piles of dirt and the dark smudge of smoke to the north of Haven signals the carnage that the ague is wreaking among the refugees. Title: One Less Bachelor? A couple Hounds talking in the Rialto... Jihal: Hey, did you hear about Reeve Januarius? ShortTrigger: Don't you mean Reeve Thanatos? Jihal: No, Reeve Januarius. Altair's changed his name again. ShortTrigger: Again?!? He changes names like he changes clothes! Speaking of which, what's with that new getup of his? Jihal: *shrugs* I don't know. Though, I actually think the black metal looks better on him. But about the name, I hear his cousin, some government snob, forced it on him. Despite his marrying another Thanatos cousin! ShortTrigger: You're kidding me! His own cousin?? That's almost as bad as marrying another breed! What's the Archon said about it? Jihal: Nothing that I know of, but you know those Empyreans. Half are probably inbred. ShortTrigger: True. Never have I seen a more confusing and complicated people. What about the Hounds? Is he inviting any of us? Jihal: Well, word has it that he's invited several Empyrean Hounds, but no one else... ShortTrigger: Figures. You know how racist they can be. Jihal: Yeah, but the Reeve? He's always been fair. I bet it must have something to do with protocol. ShortTrigger: Right. Once an Empyrean, always an Empyrean. Racist. Jihal: I'd love to stay and argue the point with you, but here comes the Archon. ShortTrigger: Yipes! And so the pair disperses.... Title: Return of the Dyer A small number of gossip-mongers with nothing better to do (of course) were heard remarking on the reappearance of the Empyrean Dyer and tattoo-artist Deianyra on the morning of January 3, 3905. While she has been seen about in the Riallto for the past three months or so, it was not in her usual place at her stall, which has since been run by one of her clansmen, a mongrel known as Etrion. And what's more she has been sporting a veil and residing at Atesh-gah... but no more. Whatever her reasons for her stay in the Varati embassy, Deia is now free, and veilless. Title: Another Empy Wedding?! Two Jovian servants are overheard talking in the Rialto while on a shpping trip. Lilan: Hey, where's Olivia at? I didn't see her in the kitchens this morning. Is she sick? Marian: No, you silly goose, she left for Civitas Dei. Lilan: Civitas Dei? Lucky woman. Why did she go there? Marian: Gods Lilan, are you completely daft? She went for Domina Selene's wedding to Deus Pantoleon. Don't you pay attention to any gossip? Lilan: She what? How'd she get an invite for that? I heard it was gonna be a really upscale affair, only nobles allowed. Marian: *sigh* Lilan, you fool, she's helping the kitchen staff, she's not going to attend the wedding. Though I wish I was her, she might get a sneak peek if she times it right. Certainly lucky, we have to stay here in Haven. The pair continue their shopping as gossip turns to other topics. Title: One Returns... A month or so after the disappearance of the rookie Hound, Jaihyn, a small disturbance in the Force rippled its way into the consciousness of those living somewhat close to the most northwestern part of the Varati lands. In the dead of night, on the eve of a new and empty moon, in the darkest time there can be in the cycle of the Night Goddess, a clan of simple sheep herders begin to stir. Within hours, tent pegs are pulled and the fluttering cloth packed, herds pulled together, fodder wrapped and settled onto the backs of different animals, personal possesions tossed quickly into bags. Then, in this darkest hour, a slow procession begins to move towards the northwest and out of the Varati lands. This column of the living does not take long to travel out and past the boundaries of these lands, being right along its edge. Only a man, woman and daughter stop before crossing over into unknown lands, looking into the direction where the City of Haven must lie, anguish in their faces and promises on their lips, sent across on the wind. With heavy hearts, they turn and step across the borders and into a new life. About another month or so after this slight disturbance, also in the dead of darkest night, a man comes trudging back through the great Gates of Haven. His head is wrapped inside a dark, earthly-toned turban, the same dark tail of some tattoo, perhaps a brand, peeking out from between his eyebrows. He still carries his staff, but leans on it more than carries, a heavy limp in his step. He walks back through the gates several months after leaving them and heads straight for the Bastion of the Hounds. Title: Apisachi Attack! Circulating through the town of Haven is a disturbing bit of news. As the harsh winter continues to take its toll, and disease runs rampant throughout the gathering of refugees, the supplies of wood have become scarce, that used for the fires tended to keep young, sick, and cold comfortable. Since the surrounding area of their encampment has been thoroughly plundered for such precious resources, parties were sent into the northern woods, in search of more dry kindling... And returned, believe it or not, with arrows protruding from posterior portions. Apparently, an Apisachi attack was made as gatherers wandered too far, and into the rough Sylvan wilderness. Wails rang through encampments as a score and ten of injured men and women were brought within the walls of Haven, seeking medical attention. The warning is clearly stated: No trespassing. Title: Keep the Home Fires Burning Even as Apisachi arrows are removed from wounds and then burned for fuel, Shakir Al'Samar begins to send word to the various Atlanteans that have helped the refugees in the tent-city. Her words are few, but plainly clear, "Though I know the Atlantean race has been beset by internal woes, I beg that they do not forget those in need and continue to donate, in greater quantities, the dried seaweed kindling that they have given generously so far." Coupled with those words is a message for the general populace, reminding all those that live in Haven that food is ever necessary for the refugees and while the winter is hard, that there are those who could starve without donations of food. The catchwords of the Varati Food Distribution network are compassion, generosity and donate. Strange, considering that they are Varati and most people consider them to be heartless butchers. Lamp lights burn all hours in the tents occupied by the members of Al'Samar in the tent city as they attempt to distribute food to the cold, the hungry and the sick. Yet, this effort may not be enough as the funeral fires to the north of the encampment do not cease in their merciless elimination of the dead. Title: Problems Pouring in the Tent-City It doesn't rain, it pours goes the old adage and such is the situation in the Tent-City. With coughing and ague running rampant, missing women and children, and lack of wood, the tent city was struck by a near riot during one afternoon. Sick Empyrean refugees standing in line outside the Delphic Healing clinic were said to have mobbed and attacked a halfbreed wearing the colors of Clan Khalida. Fallen refugees were carried away from the scene, and though logic states that these individuals would have needed additional medical care, none of them rejoined the line, but instead were heard to have been cured of any ague which beset them. Eventually, two Hounds, a guard from Clan Khalida and Shakir Al'Samar managed to restore order and the halfbreed was removed from the scene, unconscious. Title: Apisachi Wandering South? Strange things have been happening in Haven these past days, so it is no wonder that the Apisachi are following through with abnormal behavior. For a day or so now, vague reports have filtered through the riff-raff of the town of Apisachi warriors within the shadows. Gruff and anti-social, these warriors seem to be on a new, unspoken hunt... Title: Ripples in the Pond The fabric of Haven's peace was torn viciously by the despised person of the Agni-Haidar Nayaka. Arriving in the early hours of morning, the older warrior relieved himself upon the walls of the Delphic Citadel in deliberate fashion. Horrified by this insult, one of the Delphic Warriors, a Hound named Altair, levied a fine and a string of insults upon the person of the Nayaka. Notorious for his ill-temper and rigid honor, the Nayaka attempted physical retaliation, but was stalled by a young Empyrean woman who crashed into the pair for unknown reasons, and promptly rendered herself unconscious upon hitting the cobblestones of the street. The small reprieve gifted to the Hound spent itself and a battle between the two ensued, one that left the Empyrean Hound mauled -- his wings broken and useless. Some came to the aid of the Hound, but they were either too late or were interfered with. One Praetorian warrior attempted to assist his brethren, but was thwarted by the strange sight of an armed Varati female. Before leaving, the Nayaka was challenged momentarily by an Empyrean Praefect, but little resulted from the exchange... including any manner of explanation. The scene of the Rialto was chaotic upon the aged warrior's exit. Insults exchanged. A Hound attacked. How will the Delphi respond? Speculation runs rife. Title: Ripples Always Leave an Effect Two mongrel slaves gossip within the streets: Juniper: "Lares be -- didja here the commotion?" Freida: "Aye, ye mean bouts the Hound an' Nayaka? Who hasn't?" Juniper: "Aye, but I be talking about after the Nayaka left..." Freida: "He left, so what's so big 'bout that? Juniper: Ye don' understand -- the Praetorians, they got involved. I mean really involved." Freida: The older woman perks up a bit at the mention of the Empyrean guard. "Ye gotta be kiddin' ain't no way the guard's gonna do anythin' bout the thing. Juniper: The younger woman bubbles over with her gossip. "That's where ye wrong -- the darkling one, ye know that officer Domina? She marched right outta the square headin' for Atesh-Gah." Frieda: "Ain't surprisin' me -- always figured she be one o' us tainted ones deep down anyways." Juniper: The younger woman shakes her head vehemently, "Nay ye don' understand -- she went with one lowly ceterion to Atesh-Gah to report the incident and demand them do somethin'." Frieda: The older woman blanches, astonished, "She went alone? But...but...that's jus' crazy!" Juniper: "Aye, crazy -- an' from what Selma be tellin' me, they let her in, too!" Freida: The older woman looks around and lowers her voice, "If'n ye ask me that darklin' is insane -- ye be best to watch what ye say 'bout her." Juniper: The younger woman sighs softly and shakes her head with a smile, "She ain' insane -- she's the bravest guard I ever seen...." With that, the two women return to their chores.... Title: The Forging of Nightmares With the gates of Atesh-Gah thrown wide open, there is no concealing the nightmare that is being lived upon the stone cobbles of the embassy's courtyard. A man and a woman dressed in the manner of naraki lie staked upon the ground. Surrounding them, a brood of leashed newling wyverns frolic, sleep, and feast upon the flesh of the bound slaves -- their tiny razor teeth slowly gnawing away at the meal. Exhausted and delirious, the man and woman nevertheless manage a bloodcurdling scream each time a mouthful of their body is ripped away. Presiding above the gruesome scene, four Agni-Haidar warriors stand guard, preventing any from interfering in the sentence being carried out. Title: Mongrel's Take on Events Two workers on the Docks pass by, speaking openly. "Fronk... I tell you it's bloody true. That little Mongrel dirt ball was in the 'Song spouting off about how those he calls 'statues' could use a lession from him in manners... something about one of their leaders urinating on a wall or something. Real smart of the lad to be insulting them like he is... but he gets away with murder anyway. I hear Cepheus and the Hounds have been trying to catch the little runt at his business for a long time now." Fronk returns with a chuckle, "Aye, I heard that after ya left last night, he was making a speech from the hearth about how anyone what needs ta feed his people ta a lizard to have them follow him must be hidin' something. Ended it by shouting out that obviously the halfbreed King-God of the 'statues' could not maintain control any better than he could hide his bastard background. After he said that, everyone got all upset and ran him off with a few well-placed blows. Cleared the place out he did... scared that someone might take offense. I suppose we should get another coffin built, eh?" Title: Two Sides of a Coin... On the days of the Nayaka battle and the Naraki torture, there has sat one lone man in the Rialto, wrapped in red and stone-faced as the people he comes from. He has a table set up, and items laid out before the people, and yet does not charge for a thing taken from it. There are even small purses of coinage left unattended, willingly left to poor children's hands. Often the one mistreated by Agni-Haidar as they pass, the man, said to be a priest by many, simply quotes his god, "Surah #6 to have Surah #1." This, of course, gets strange shakes of the head by most, and yet he continues, even in the coldest of weather, to sit at his table. Before the table is a patched sign : For those that have less.
|
