86th of Fall, 515 AV
12th Bell
"Continue to cloak me in your dark shroud. Protect my secrets as my clan vows to protect yours, and keep fear from my heart when your shadows reign in the mystery and danger of the night, " Kaie finished her afternoon prayer to Akajia in the Night Tower in the comforting whisper of her mother tongue. Her hooded face rose from its solemn position as she lifted herself from her pose. Even now she could still feel the gaze of the resident priestess hot upon her back. Was it mistrust that she was a Myrian? Some kind of condescending thought process that made her believe that a woman of jungle savages could truly be loyal and reverent? She turned to find the priestess lurking as quiet and observant as the shadows, lips moving as if she were speaking to someone that was not there. For a tick, the Myrian's amber stare was fixed upon the strange occurrence, searching but failing to find any possible conversation partner remotely near the priestess. A muffled cough from a praying follower tore the woman from her short-lived perplexity. Who was she to question the behavior of one of Akajia's chosen?
Before long she was back in the sunlight. The speech of pedestrians and the roar of the nearby river filled her ears in a way that reminded her just how oddly quiet the Night Tower was within. An invisible hand grasped at the ends of her cloak, yanking and tugging her backward as if bidding her to reenter the one place in the city she truly felt comfort. Instead the savage tightened the buckle of her weapon belt and wandered toward the sound of the river. The night before when she landed upon Riverfall's docks, her ship's captain had done her a solid. Just before wandering along the gangplank, nursing bruises and healing lacerations to turn just about anyone's head, he'd mentioned a place of refuge within a city dominated by the purple, blue, and green patriarchy. Some place where women could live and have access to resources that do no typically come easily to a newcomer. For once, she'd chosen not to deny the available aid.
One of these days, I swear I'm going to learn to read at least Common. Dammit! she cursed with useless eyes gazing upon the various signs that lined the streets. Tukant? Common? It hardly mattered the heritage of the characters upon the wood. They meant nothing to her all the same. Wait! Tavern? Bladed boots practically skid to a stop before one sign in particular. She teetered from the balls of her feet to her heels. No, no. Move it, Myrian. That's right. Left foot, right foot, left foot. She could feel her mood souring with every step that took her away from a happier direction. The conversations in Tukant she brushed by were no more significant than a buzz in her ears.
"I've never seen such a thing! What did they call it again?"
"A Killa Hound?"
"Yeah that thing! Those mutts were creepy. Can't imagine being chased by one with real fur."
The Myrian whipped around, shoulder unintentionally bumping against an older Akalak in the process, who was quick to curse her out in his own language. The woman didn't bother to spit her own insults. Her eyes were fixed on the pair of human women, their dresses whirling about as the fall wind whipped around their ankles. "Excuse me," Kaie surged forward with a passive palm raised. "I didn't mean to over hear but...you said you just saw an Akila?" The two women gawked at the rough foreigner in their midst. When their expressions had finally smoothed over to conceal their initial fear and surprise, they nodded in sync. "Sure. There were all kinds of animal bones at the Hall of Bones," the blonde responded and tugged her shawl tighter over her shoulders. She smiled softly, and before Kaie had to voice the next obvious question, she gestured with an index finger in the apparent Hall of Bones' direction. "Find Niko if you can." And with that the two turns and continued on their way, leaving the blindsided Myrian scratching her head.
The petch's a hall of bones?
12th Bell
"Continue to cloak me in your dark shroud. Protect my secrets as my clan vows to protect yours, and keep fear from my heart when your shadows reign in the mystery and danger of the night, " Kaie finished her afternoon prayer to Akajia in the Night Tower in the comforting whisper of her mother tongue. Her hooded face rose from its solemn position as she lifted herself from her pose. Even now she could still feel the gaze of the resident priestess hot upon her back. Was it mistrust that she was a Myrian? Some kind of condescending thought process that made her believe that a woman of jungle savages could truly be loyal and reverent? She turned to find the priestess lurking as quiet and observant as the shadows, lips moving as if she were speaking to someone that was not there. For a tick, the Myrian's amber stare was fixed upon the strange occurrence, searching but failing to find any possible conversation partner remotely near the priestess. A muffled cough from a praying follower tore the woman from her short-lived perplexity. Who was she to question the behavior of one of Akajia's chosen?
Before long she was back in the sunlight. The speech of pedestrians and the roar of the nearby river filled her ears in a way that reminded her just how oddly quiet the Night Tower was within. An invisible hand grasped at the ends of her cloak, yanking and tugging her backward as if bidding her to reenter the one place in the city she truly felt comfort. Instead the savage tightened the buckle of her weapon belt and wandered toward the sound of the river. The night before when she landed upon Riverfall's docks, her ship's captain had done her a solid. Just before wandering along the gangplank, nursing bruises and healing lacerations to turn just about anyone's head, he'd mentioned a place of refuge within a city dominated by the purple, blue, and green patriarchy. Some place where women could live and have access to resources that do no typically come easily to a newcomer. For once, she'd chosen not to deny the available aid.
One of these days, I swear I'm going to learn to read at least Common. Dammit! she cursed with useless eyes gazing upon the various signs that lined the streets. Tukant? Common? It hardly mattered the heritage of the characters upon the wood. They meant nothing to her all the same. Wait! Tavern? Bladed boots practically skid to a stop before one sign in particular. She teetered from the balls of her feet to her heels. No, no. Move it, Myrian. That's right. Left foot, right foot, left foot. She could feel her mood souring with every step that took her away from a happier direction. The conversations in Tukant she brushed by were no more significant than a buzz in her ears.
"I've never seen such a thing! What did they call it again?"
"A Killa Hound?"
"Yeah that thing! Those mutts were creepy. Can't imagine being chased by one with real fur."
The Myrian whipped around, shoulder unintentionally bumping against an older Akalak in the process, who was quick to curse her out in his own language. The woman didn't bother to spit her own insults. Her eyes were fixed on the pair of human women, their dresses whirling about as the fall wind whipped around their ankles. "Excuse me," Kaie surged forward with a passive palm raised. "I didn't mean to over hear but...you said you just saw an Akila?" The two women gawked at the rough foreigner in their midst. When their expressions had finally smoothed over to conceal their initial fear and surprise, they nodded in sync. "Sure. There were all kinds of animal bones at the Hall of Bones," the blonde responded and tugged her shawl tighter over her shoulders. She smiled softly, and before Kaie had to voice the next obvious question, she gestured with an index finger in the apparent Hall of Bones' direction. "Find Niko if you can." And with that the two turns and continued on their way, leaving the blindsided Myrian scratching her head.
The petch's a hall of bones?
