33 Winter, 515 AV
5th Bell, Early Morning
The City of Tents
5th Bell, Early Morning
The City of Tents
A wall of fire cut through the city, separating the Diamond and part of the Opal Clan from the rest of their people. Dravite had awoken to the sound of distant screaming, of both animal and man. With little time to dress, he raced from the tent, taking up his spear and a throwing axe from the pavilion's armoury on the way out, "stay inside! Hide!" He told his son, Löwe as the boy poked his head out of Fara's tent; the horse lord hadn't realised the woman was missing, but Pearl's absence had been felt before he had even opened his eyes.
The River Flower, he thought and ran like he had never run before, dodging fleeing horses, petrified dogs, and the odd warrior fresh to his or her feet. While most ran from the flames, Dravite charged into the fray; he didn't know the city was under attack, not yet, not until he leapt through the wall of fire and rolled with weapons held to his chest in order to suffocate any fire that still clung to his woollen longs. It was then the watchman jumped to his feet, right into a standoff between one of his own and a man who looked, sounded, and even smelt unfamiliar, just like the sea.
The younger Drykas man to Dravite’s right cowered as the man from the sea lunged at him with a club, and without hesitation, Dravite thrust his spearhead into the wild man's belly and cut open his throat with a stroke throwing axe, sending the foreigner to Lhex with a mighty war cry, "he kicked the Pirates Shark-tooth club in front of the Drykas man and told him to take it up and warn or help whoever he could between here and the other side of the wall.
While he spoke, an arrow hummed by the watchman's face, cutting through his hair and disappearing through the flames at his back. In the darkness, Dravite saw the strangely dressed bowman fumbling to load another arrow as the warmth of his own blood spilled over his left cheek and traced his jaw and neckline. With all his might, Dravite drew back his right arm and heaved his spear through the air, catching the bowman in the shoulder. He sprung forward and closed the gap between himself and the bowman to quickly end another life, or so he thought, until the foreigner surprised him with an axe, that cut into the Drykas man's side, stopped by his ribs.
Dravite cried out and slammed his axe into the pirate's face. The foreigner's swing had been clumsy and last second, cutting open flesh but not breaking into bone, with one edge of the blade. Barefoot, he retrieved his weapons and ran in the direction of The River Flower once more, the pain blocked as a new bout of adrenalin took hold.
Inside The River Flower was total and utter chaos, and though it seemed the damage had already been done here, men and women of his own race flinched when they saw the man dart inside with weapons in hand, "Pearl!" Dravite cried out in search of his wife, and Star, his wife's assistant, raced out into the waiting room.
"She's not here, Blackwater!" The woman assured the man, who not willing to waste any time, turned and to race back outside and retrace his steps, perhaps he thought, he had missed her on the way here.
When he got outside, up ahead in the distance, he noticed two men dragging a screaming woman towards the shore where a line of unfamiliar lights waved back and forth. Boats, he could only just make out their shapes from this distance and speed towards the fleeing attackers, so few in their numbers now.
By the time he had almost made it to the shore, most of the boats were already moving out of view and those left behind, abandoned by their own, were left to face the fury of the Drykas people. They had come with fire, iron, and beasts, dogs with a thirst for the blood of man and... Dravite stilled, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he thought it might burst as he watched what looked like a black lioness tearing a man down to immobilise him in a matter of seconds.
While the beast had her back to the horse lord, he thundered closer with weapon at the ready and roared, not sure if she had taken down one of the attackers, or one his people. He thrust his weapon forth and missed, an inch shy of tearing open the creature’s belly; his mighty battle cry pre-warning the animal, giving her that split-second to react that he had not counted on. It was the reach of his axe she would then need to fear, as it came up over his left shoulder, where it seemed as if the watchman might release and throw the weapon her way.
