Posts
The fire crackles, throwing out its flickering orange radiance. It gives up its heat grudgingly, making those around it huddle close to enjoy its warmth. Wrapped in their cloaks and blankets, they look like low rocks where they lie snoring. An inix grumbles in the darkness.
Other fires crackle nearby, with more sleepers around them. The vague shapes of animals loom and twitch in the darkness: crodlus, like featherless, snouted ostriches, hobbled and dozing; inix, giant monitor lizards, muzzled and staked down to prevent them attacking. Meanwhile, circling slowly in the freezing night, the guards.
Keeping away from the fires so their eyes can adjust to the dark, wrapped up against the cold and breath fogging, they keep watch in small bands. While the caravan sleeps, they watch for danger coming out of the desert.
Calla stamps her feet against the cold, and looks at the companions on her patrol. The hulking mul, Gorad, looks about intently, and she envies the boundless endurance of his race. As one of Grandma's favorites, though, she wonders if he's there to keep an eye on her. The cantankerous old buzzard might be the caravan-master for this trip, but she still seems to have problems accepting Calla is grown up now. And the enigmatic mul is a very odd and slightly unsettling nursemaid, even if he always has been friendly in the past.
Arakan the half-elf is more fun, if seemingly about as trustworthy as any other elf. He and his companion, the lame woman Irivis, joined on at South Ledopolus, claiming to have arrived on another caravan. Both are vague about their origins and life stories, which makes Calla slightly suspicious. Neither seems entirely comfortable out in the desert, despite their previous experience.
But they are the epitome of wilderness-craft compared to Jareen. Claiming to be a follower of the Way, he hired on at the last minute in Balic. But he seems very unsuited to the rigours of the desert, with his soft hands and slight paunch, and seems to be finding the trip heavy going. Again, like the others, he seems reluctant to discuss his past.
This could be a long night.
As for the other three, Gorad withholds judgement for the moment. The half-elf and human woman who joined at South Ledopolus, Arakan and Irivis, he doesn't know well, but they both seem unhealthily secretive. They joined on at South Ledopolus, claiming to have arrived on another caravan. Arakan is friendly enough, but his elven heritage does little to reassure. Irivis is lame, leaning on a stick. Both are vague about their origins and life stories and neither seems entirely comfortable out in the desert, despite their previous experience.
But they are the epitome of wilderness-craft compared to Jareen. Claiming to be a follower of the Way, he hired on at the last minute in Balic. But he seems very unsuited to the rigours of the desert, with his soft hands and slight paunch, and seems to be finding the trip heavy going. Again, like the others, he seems reluctant to discuss his past.
This could be a long night.
Jareen stares glumly into the night and not for the first time curses his misfortune. Why did Saela's father have to come home just at that particular moment? Why did he have to be one of the most powerful templars in Balic? And why did he have to be a raging, murderous lunatic when it came to his daughter's honour?
And why, exactly, did Jareen ever pursue the brazen Saela, knowing all these things? He sighs, and looks into the darkness. At least he had been able to pull some strings with the Veiled Alliance, otherwise he'd probably be in the arena in a loincloth fighting off some terrible beast with a toothpick. Even if the Alliance are a somewhat humourless crowd, he always sympathised with their aims to eliminate the damage done by defiling magic, even as a templar. Plus he quite fancied the sister of the Balic cell's leader. In any case, his occasional assistance meant they were willing to smuggle him out of town and on to the first caravan out.
Bloody sands, but it's cold! It was never like this in Balic, where he had slaves to cater to his whims and do the drudge work. Why does he always get night duty anyway?
He looks about him at his companions on this patrol. The girl, Calla, seems quite sweet if naïve - always prattling on about how great the abolition of slavery is in Tyr. Given that this is a House Ianto caravan, and that House Ianto were some of the biggest slave-traders in the Tyr Region before the revolution, and that Calla is herself a child of House Ianto, perhaps her unwise enthusiasms have led her to draw this uncomfortable duty.
The mul, Gorad, on the other hand, keeps looking at him. Does he know anything? Jareen has held off any casting so far, so as not to be lynched as a defiler - oh, the irony! - but that mul seems to look through him. He also seems close to the family running the caravan, especially that old bag, "Grandma". Jareen had been grateful when Grandma had hired him, but she seems to delight in giving him the most uncomfortable duties going. The arena seems almost preferable. Almost.
And the other two - the half-elf Arakan, and the lame human woman Irivis, seem to have secrets of their own. They are friendly enough, hiring on a few days ago at South Ledopolus after leaving another caravan. But if they don't want to talk about where they have come from, that's fine by him. He doesn't want to talk about himself either.
This could be a long night.
She glances at Arakan, her companion on the way from Balic. They met on another caravan but left it at South Ledopolus as it unexpectedly headed back to Balic. So they hired on to the next one, belonging to the Tyrian House Ianto. The woman running it, "Grandma", is a leathery old bag of ruthlessness if ever there was one, but seemingly fair - and heading in the right direction. Irivis is heading home, but Arakan seems to be escaping Balic. It's his business - both of them nursing their secrets.
Grandma's granddaughter, Calla, is also on this patrol. She's a sweet young thing, and very caught up with revolutionary fervour, always talking about how Tyr is better with the ending of slavery. Given how House Ianto was the biggest slave-trading house in Tyr before Kalak's fall, perhaps that explains her uncomfortable duties here on the night watch.
A hulking presence in the night is the mul, Gorad. He also seems close to the family running the caravan, keeping a close eye on Calla, athough his history is unclear.
And then there is Jareen. Claiming to be a follower of the Way, he was already with the caravan when Irivis and Arakan hired on. But he seems very unsuited to the rigours of the desert, with his soft hands and slight paunch, and seems to be finding the trip heavy going. He also seems reluctant to discuss his past.
This could be a long night.
He glances at Irivis, his companion on the way from Balic. They met on another caravan but left it at South Ledopolus as it unexpectedly headed back to Balic. So they hired on to the next one, belonging to the Tyrian House Ianto. The woman running it, "Grandma", is a leathery old bag of ruthlessness if ever there was one, but seemingly fair - and heading in the right direction. Irivis is heading home, being from Tyr, but seems preoccupied by the prospect. It's her business - both of them nursing their secrets.
Grandma's granddaughter, Calla, is also on this patrol. She's a sweet young thing, and very caught up with revolutionary fervour, always talking about how Tyr is better with the ending of slavery. Given how House Ianto was the biggest slave-trading house in Tyr before Kalak's fall, perhaps that explains her uncomfortable duties here on the night watch.
A hulking presence in the night is the mul, Gorad. He also seems close to the family running the caravan, keeping a close eye on Calla, athough his history is unclear.
And then there is Jareen. Claiming to be a follower of the Way, he was already with the caravan when Irivis and Arakan hired on. But he seems very unsuited to the rigours of the desert, with his soft hands and slight paunch, and seems to be finding the trip heavy going. He also seems reluctant to discuss his past.
This could be a long night.