[Event] 512 Spring Famine

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

[Event] 512 Spring Famine

Postby Echelon on May 18th, 2012, 10:57 pm

On the forty second of Spring famine was officially called in Zeltiva. Food was extremely sparse, and everybody, even the Lord of Counsel, felt the effects. No amount of hording or stealing or preparing had fully stocked the tables of anybody in the city. This stretched painfully onto the 69th, when relief came from Syliras at the expense of fifty volunteers who have left us forever. Even then, however, the food was measly and small in number. Let us not forget this.
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[Event] 512 Spring Famine

Postby Levi Athan on May 18th, 2012, 11:58 pm

Day 65th of Spring, AV 512

OOCI hope this is about what you wanted. If I completely screwed this up, please let me know.

It was funny, depressing, but funny. Twenty seven years old, a Zeltivan boy, born and raised, Levi Morjack Athan. He had known hunger his whole life. It was that companion that sat in the corner of your room, staring at you as you tried to sleep. It was always present, caressing your stomach with those dark tendrils of chilling pain. Yet, in twenty-seven long years, never had he actually gone without food for so long. It had been, counting today, twenty whole days since he had a meal of any sort, and he was a lucky one. He had rationed, he had always saved up, he had found a rat here and there. Now, that companion named hunger that had so often taunted him with discomfort, was a gruesome specter that was reaching into his mind, his chest. The pain was severe, spreading throughout his body like thousands of worms. His mind, the thing he valued second only to his life, was fading. He was a man that found logic in everything. He watched everyone with such detail that he could confidently claim to detect motives.

But now, he only stared in longing. He had looked at his Kelvic companion more than once recently, and in ways he never thought that he could. Give it another ten days, and he might die trying to eat that vicious canine. Levi sat on the streets of Zeltiva, if there were people walking about, he didn't notice them, though it was unlikely because they were no better off that he was. Levi sighed and closed his eyes. He felt defeated, worn down, stretched so thin that he just wanted to sleep, and not wake up. And it wasn't even that he was so close to dying that it was calling him, it was just that he wanted to give up. He almost wanted Blitz to be as hungry so that he would devour Levi. At least then one of them could survive this. How pathetic he must look in that moment, yet somehow it didn't bother him. Pride didn't feed you. Right now, pride was a stranger.

There was a tingling sensation on Levi's finger. It was strange, at first he almost thought it was imagined, until he opened his eyes to see a rat (which was thin and probably as hungry as Levi was) taking cautious nibbles at his flesh. Levi's instincts were to grab the rodent and carry it somewhere where he was alone, burn it on a fire, and swallow it whole. Yet, he only managed to lift his hand before the meal scurried away, crying in fear. It was like Levi didn't even have the strength to survive now. Give it ten more days and he'd be okay with Blitz using him as a meal, he would smile just to have his friend put him out of his misery. Levi closed his eyes again as he leaned his head back, resting it against the brick of whatever wall was behind him. He wanted to sleep, but that ever present, ever haunting companion, hunger, was still there. Watching. Waiting.

A tear for the frustration he felt fell through those closed eyes. A second tear fell for the agony he suffered. A third tear fell for the loss of his pride and self-worth, which everyone values. A forth tear fell for the misery he felt for failing his friend, Blitz, whom he silently promised to care for.

After that, whether he slept, or merely sat there in silence with his eyes closed for a time, could not be easily determined. Regardless, he had nowhere to go, nor the strength to go there. No reason to exert energy, unless it would feed him. The world had abandoned Zeltiva, and with it, Levi. Oh, how badly now he wished to be with his extended family in Syliras. He would trade his freedom for the slavery of knighthood. He would give everything for a meal that would not leave him in realization that he was dying. He even contemplated dropping off the docks into the water, knowing he wouldn't be able to crawl back out of that salty abyss. Drowning was a cruel death, but hunger like this was the master of sadism.
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[Event] 512 Spring Famine

Postby Satevis on May 19th, 2012, 12:50 am

    OOC :
    Taken from this topic.


    65th Day of Spring, 512 AV

    The children were ragged little things, nothing more than skin, bone, and eyes. They clustered around the mouth of an alley surrounding the visitor, about six or seven of them, shoving at each other and clambering for room. The city had been under a state of official famine for twenty-three days now, with the only end in sight being a promise from Syliras--the gift of food in exchange for men. To an outside observer, this sounded like a great thing, an end to the people's suffering. To the people living in the city right now, though, the promise was nothing more than words in the air.

    Food within the city was extremely scarce, and what little one was likely to get was either rationed out amongst the populace or exorbitantly priced. Those that could travel by sea had already left the city in search of greener pastures, but those people made up a small fraction of Zeltiva's population. Even the University's Cafeteria, normally a reliable source of food for the school's paying students, had had to resort to severe rationing in order to continue feeding them all. A student might get lucky enough to receive one small meal a day, and on some days, calling it a meal was being generous.

    Satevis could live quite comfortably off of one small meal a day. In fact, he often did.

    Which was why he gave all his food away.

    The piece of fried fish in his pack disappeared in the crowd of children, his hands quickly breaking it into seven somewhat equal pieces and handing a piece to each child. The stale roll at the bottom of his pack disappeared in much the same fashion, divided up and eagerly scarfed down. It was precious little, but there wasn't much more anyone could do.

    The Ethaefal turned the bag inside out to show the children that he didn't have anything more to give, sighing as he watched their faces fall. It was late afternoon, and his own hunger gnawed at him, reminding him that he hadn't had a bite of food from dawn until now. In truth, he hadn't had a single bite to eat since famine was officially declared, but he was lucky in that regard. His body disregarded that. As soon as night fell, he knew that he would assume his Ethaefal form, and the need for food would be gone. The hunger would be gone.

    But he wasn't in his Ethaefal form now, he was in his mortal seeming. And in his Benshira form, he hungered. He didn't eat a lot, and he had gone days without food before, but in his Benshira form he was functionally nothing more than a human, and humans felt hungry when they hadn't eaten from sunrise to sunset. The academic part of his mind knew that he was in no danger of starving, knew that he was better off than everyone else, but it had been twenty-three days. His mind was starting to feel the psychological effects of being constantly hungry, and his control was beginning to grow strained.

    It was hard to have food in his hand and not take one bite out of it. It was hard to tell himself to wait for nightfall, that once night fell it wouldn't matter, once night fell, he would be satisfied. It was hard to stand here every day and give his food away, knowing that one bite here and there wouldn't do much to keep any of these kids alive.

    It was hard, but he kept at it, because of the principle of the thing. It would be a horrid excess for him to eat anything when he didn't truly need food to survive. And after a while, it became a point of pride as well, a personal challenge. Because there were few things Satevis prided himself on more than his self-control.

    So he stood and watched as the children ate, some of them scarfing down the few bites of bread and fish quickly, and others nibbling on the pieces, taking small bites and savoring them. And maybe for the first time since becoming an Ethaefal, he found himself thinking that he had the best fortune out of all of them.
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[Event] 512 Spring Famine

Postby Blitz on May 19th, 2012, 7:16 pm

OOC: Satevis, I hope you don't mind that I joined you in your open thread.

Food! Fish! Meat! Blitz smelled meat and drooled in copious amounts as he padded painfully toward the scent. There was a crowd of children and he did the only thing he could think of to be heard above them. He cried because his tummy ached with emptiness. 'Feed me!' Blitz begged and cried. The dog's stomach was tucked up high with starvation, his ribs showing plainly beneath the once glossy black coat. He knew posturing would take as much effort as his weak self could muster, but he was so hungry it made his very bones ache!

Blitz did his best to catch Satevis' eyes with own big brown pleading ones. 'Food. I need food! I'm dying!' he tried to show this in his expression of desperation.
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He stepped weakly from child to child, avidly licking their faces and hands that smelled unbearably of the food that the young dog needed so very badly. The taste only sharpened his ravenous appetite and he cried out again.

His skin felt tight, stretched painfully over stark bones almost sharp enough to poke through the skin and bedraggled patchy fur. After several desperate chimes, he fell down in exhaustion, weakened by too much posturing. Giving up, Blitz laid his head down tiredly on his paws, looked up pleading at Satevis and sobbed in defeat.
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[Event] 512 Spring Famine

Postby Minerva Agatha Zipporah on May 22nd, 2012, 3:30 am

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[Event] 512 Spring Famine

Postby Kaeson Dakano on May 22nd, 2012, 3:30 am

OOCKaeson response to this thread and to Satevis'
Kaeson had been walking back and forth alongside the docks long before Leth had relinquished his reign to Syna. Kaeson had arrived in the same ports not too long ago, except when Kaeson had arrived in Zeltiva, it had been with a whole weeks supply of food -- or what had supposed to be a weeks worth of food. That majority of his supply hadn't even lasted the boat trip to the Zeltivan harbors, and Kaeson had barely managed to stretch what remained for five days, let alone a week.

Kaeson had been trying to gather some of the kelp that should have been collecting underneath the dock, but it seemed as though some of the other more resourceful Zeltivans had the same idea considering that by the time Kaeson had arrived at the docks, aside from the odd strand of kelp, there hadn't been anything to collect.

"What a petching waste of time," Kaeson muttered underneath his breath. He had woken as the first rays of Syna's light his the city, and even that hadn't been early enough. As he walked back to his small cottage, Kaeson began to reconsider his opportunities for food. As a university student, he had access to the university's cafe three times a day and Kaeson had been sure to take advantage of that as soon as he heard about the famine. The thing was, Kaeson had been noticing the cafe meal slimming down considerably the last couple of days and he was worried about how much longer the cafe would manage to continue serving.

Sighing, Kaeson had even toyed with the idea of foraging outside the city for substance. If anything, the climate should allow for wild onions to grow and this was the time to harvest..."but who knows how that storm effected everything outside?" Kaeson thought. The last thing he wanted to get do was get eaten by some wild Djed altered creature.

Hearing a bark, Kaeson head turned to look down an alley only to see a young man and a young woman apparently playing with a dog. Kaeson squinted his eyes at the pair, hoping they migh have something extra to spare when he realized he knew the smaller blonde girl. Recognizing her, Kaeson called out,"Nai'shee?" before quickly managing a nod and a polite hello to the benshira standing next to her.
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[Event] 512 Spring Famine

Postby Montaine on May 25th, 2012, 1:37 pm

Hunger Pangs
Spring 52 512 AV


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‘So, Jonathan here tells us you have been teaching him personally how to blow glass, is that correct Mister Redsun?’

The room was ornate. It was the only word to describe it. The coving stretched round the edge of the ceiling and inwards, curving and curling and twisting and turning and meeting finally at the great chandelier in the centre. There was a grand fireplace reaching across much of the far wall but the heart was empty tonight, the blackened grate covered in the soot of fires past. Even the great, wooden dining table fitted the aesthetic to a tee, its grandiose legs bending in and curving out to end at sturdy, carved paws. Montaine could see his face reflected in its varnished surface. The Foglehorn family was old blood. They claimed heritage from pre-Valterrian aristocracy, though the truth to that claim could doubtfully be proven, yet they still held some substantial political sway. Their house sat among the foothills, isolated as many of the higher class homes were in the city. However, the many fripperies and fineries that graced their dining hall spoke little of their financial situation. These were signs of status, not wealth. Indeed, most of their monetary value was tied up in physical possessions, to the detriment of their wallets.

But status brought advantages that mere wealth could not. The Foglehorn manor even possessed a sizeable chunk of land, a quarter acre at least, upon which they usually grew a small selection of crops. The garden was barren today. When he had been led up the path to the old front doors he had been able to glimpse the yellowed grass. Compton, the sole servant to the house of Foglehorn, had looked so sadly then.

‘Yes, Fo-Jonathan’s a right talent and no mistake Missus Foglehorn,’

Fogle’s parents chuckled quietly. They had called his manner and speech quaint upon his arrival, much to his chagrin. He didn’t feel at home in this cold, cavernous house, so cut off from the city proper. But Fogle had insisted, his family had little food but compared to the starving that were now so common a sight on the streets they were positively inundated with it. Montaine felt guilty sitting on their antique furniture, waiting for a meal that would probably be larger and fancier than anything he normally consumed, knowing full well that his countrymen were dying outside for lack of nourishment.

Elizabetta Foglehorn, lady of the house, took a delicate sip from her glass, ‘I do so apologise, Mister Redsun, about the quantity of our dinner this evening, but I am sure you are aware of this frightful famine that has taken a hold of our fair city. Indeed, I fear we shall have to do away with the dessert altogether!’ the woman laughed as if she had made a joke, ‘And I am so very sorry that your father could not make it. He works at the stables, you say? Compton’s nephew has a friend that makes saddles in Syliras,’

Monty raised an eyebrow, unsure what to do with this new information. The concept of small-talk with people whose world he had barely even scratched in all his years was a tad daunting. Thankfully he was saved by the arrival of the first course. Compton briefly struggled with opening the heavy oaken doors with his four plates in hand but managed to slip inside with the sacrifice of a single salad leaf that fluttered gently down to the floor. The starter was ceremoniously placed on the table before the glassworker. He looked down. It was a modest platter of kelp and thinly sliced fish, accompanied by an arrangement of colourful vegetables, many of which Montaine failed to identify.

‘D’you eat like this every day?’

Gulliver Foglehorn, lord of the house, guffawed, ‘Oh gods no! So meagre a meal is only ever reserved for the bleakest of times. You shall have to return in Zeltiva’s prosperity and witness this table at full feasting capacity, dear boy,’

Montaine was horrified. The food in front of him wasn’t much, but in times like these to eat it would have been sheer gluttony. This was just the first course. How could people live like this when their fellows starved and died and decomposed on the streets outside? Though really they weren’t the fellows of people like the Foglehorns, they didn’t die on the road that led up to the manor house. They lived in solitude, away from the city centre, away from the citizens. The craftsman’s stomach growled loudly. The lord and lady Foglehorn chuckled again. Monty scowled and stood to his feet. Fogle looked panicked, unsure of what to do, as his superior began to speak, first quietly but very quickly verging on yelling.

‘How can you laugh at a time like this? People’re dyin’ for want of a meal and you sit here, stuffing your faces day in day out! What? You too high ‘n’ mighty to starve like the rest of us? Too fancy up in your petchin’ manor house to share around? You’re nothin’ but shyking, helioc petchers ‘n’ you don’t even care!’

Elizabetta and Gulliver looked shocked, struck dumb. Compton stood beside them with a smirk spread across his pale features and the young Jonathan Foglehorn, Fogle the novice, sat, staring wide eyed at Monty, awe and admiration twinkling in his gaze. The glassworker looked down at the meal and his stomach rumbled again. It was so painful. But he couldn’t eat the food. It made no sense, but he couldn’t eat it. Instead, he stormed out and didn’t look back.

He made half way to his apartment before he started to feel faint. He collapsed against the wall of a moderately expensive residence and slid down to the ground. He felt as though he wanted to throw up, to retch and heave, but his stomach was empty, devoid of anything it could bring up to lessen the pain. The glassworker’s vision was blurred but he could just make out in the darkness the shape of something lying in the gutter.

It was an apple. Well, part of one. The half consumed core, brown and mucky and with a distinct fuzz. It wasn’t food. No one would, could class that as food.

But it was all there was left in Zeltiva.

Monty opened his mouth, and gratefully accepted it.
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[Event] 512 Spring Famine

Postby Echelon on June 1st, 2012, 10:31 pm

Adventurer's Loot

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A Gift
Experience is its own reward.
Levi's Loot :
Levi Morjak Athan

Skill XP Reward
Poetry +1

Lore:
Endured the 512 Famine of Zeltiva
Taste of Rat
True Hunger
Four Tears for Four Trageties

Items or Consequences:
+10SP

Notes: Exactly what I was looking for.

Satevis's Loot :
Satevis

Skill XP Reward
Philosophy +1

Lore:
Endured the 512 Famine of Zeltiva
Sight of Starving Zeltivan Children
Generosity: Feeding the Hungry
Pride Endures

Items or Consequences:
+8 SP

Notes: Awwww so sweet.

Tock's Loot :
Minerva Agatha Zipporah

Lore:
Endured the 512 Famine of Zeltiva

Items or Consequences:
+10

Notes: I'm guna let the rest be awarden in the other thread. Thanks for the addition <3

Kaeson's Loot :
Keason Dakano

Lore:
Endured the 512 Famine of Zeltiva

Items or Consequences:
+5SP

Notes: Minimal, vague. Still appreciated, however.

Monty's Loot :
Montaine Redsun

Skill XP Reward
Anthropology +1
Philosophy +1
Leadership +1

Lore:
Endured the 512 Famine of Zeltiva
Foglehorn Family
Distance of Aristocracy
Maintaining The Montaine Morals

Items or Consequences:
+8SP

Notes: I felt that this slipped off topic quite a bit form my intended purpose. That said, I do think it added quite a bit to the picture of Zeltiva, as a see class war as a large issue in Zeltiva.

(Thank you all for helping build upon the very important tragedy of the Zeltivan 512 famine! You guys rock.) - if you have ANY questions or concerns about this grading, please PM me.
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